14 - In Search of a Scapegoat

Nero was content. For once his beastly nature was sated. Rome had served as the model for his great ode. Now Rome lay at his feet like a ravaged, brutalized woman. He set about at once to save what was left of her, or more accurately, to deflect suspicion from himself. He was seen everywhere, taking personal command of the legionaries who demolished rows of houses in the immediate path of the fire with battering rams. The order was finally given to open the sluices of the aqueducts, which had remained shut during the conflagration for some mysterious reason. The destruction was finally halted.

For nine days the fire had raged, and a vast part of Rome had been converted into a glowing pit. Only those quarters on the outer ring were completely unscathed, including the Via Appia and the Trans-Tiber, where most of the Jews lived. The Tiber acted as a barrier and not a single house was touched. Also the precincts containing the great empty palaces of the Campus Martius and the Forum were untouched. Four precincts in the heart of the city, the most densely populated, were completely gutted, while six were partially demolished when the fire brigades tried to clear a wide space around the flames.

The heart of the city was a vast, glowing oven, covered with the ruins of fallen walls and roofs, which buried whatever and whoever remained behind. The people who had managed to escape crowded the streets of the other precincts, making passage and communication all but impossible.

And here comes Caesar as the tenderhearted father of his people. He had the great Campus Martius, with its baths, gardens and temples, opened to the homeless. He even placed his own gardens, palace, and circus on the Vatican heights across the Tiber, at the service of the city. As soon as they could enter, tens of thousands of slaves were set to work clearing the ruins, and carrying the ashes and rubbish in sacks, baskets and carts to the banks of the Tiber. All available ships were mobilized to bring stores of grain and olives up the river from the port of Ostia and then remove the huge heaps of refuse to be dumped into the open sea. Each day Nero visited the people, who wandered among the ruins of their former homes hoping to save some remnant of their possessions, or to identify the charred bones of their loved ones. He called up a profusion of tears over the misfortunes of his people. He even went so far as to lift homeless orphans in his arms, so that Rome might see to what depths Caesar had been moved by the universal calamity.

Nero promised the people a new city the like of which no ruler in the history of the world had ever bestowed on his subjects. It would be a city of glorious, wide streets, of great, regular houses of a certain, limited height, with wide facades, and in every house there would be a supply of fire-fighting equipment. As the first token of his intentions, Caesar ordered his treasury to extend credit to every citizen who was prepared to start rebuilding his home, and a tax was laid on every province of the empire to finance the reconstruction. Engineers and architects were called in, and great quantities of fire-resistant stone were brought in. Nero promised to build a vast ring of colonnades, baths, theaters and circuses.

And of course, there was his “Golden House” that would stretch all the way from the Palatine to the Esquiline, combining his palaces on the two hills.

Nero worked feverishly with the architects and engineers. Hundreds of thousands of slaves were rounded up and set to work and order was gradually restored.

But there was a problem.

The Roman populace was mournful and unresponsive. They no longer cared to watch the antics of their ruler with gross good humor. They no longer acted content with “bread and circuses,” and they openly applauded the mimes and rhymesters who mocked the imperial criminal. Rome was no longer what it had been.

Oh they listened to the words Nero offered and they accepted the gifts he gave, but they said nothing. Everywhere Caesar was, the people looked away. He shed his tears in vain. Even his promise to arrange a performance of the mighty poem “The Destruction of Troy,” in which he’d immortalized the catastrophe, failed to move them.

The people refused to be whipped into a mood of enthusiasm, for they were certain that it was Caesar, and Caesar alone, who was responsible for Rome’s destruction. It was no secret that Caesar had always dreamed of a new Rome, and of a “Golden House” to immortalize his name, and hundreds of people had seen and now testified of the men running around the city throwing lighted torches into the stores of the Circus Maximus on the eve of the fire’s outbreak. And word soon got around that Nero had posted himself on the summit of a tower on the Esquiline and chanted his ode.

And so the Romans turned to the gods. The corrupt and cynical masses underwent a religious revival, and the temples were suddenly filled with worshippers, especially the Vulcan temples. The Sybilline books were consulted for the significance of the disaster, and Roman matrons renewed the practice of bringing offerings to the Capitoline Jupiter and to the other gods. It was clear that Rome had averted its face from Caesar and turned it toward the gods.


Nero couldn’t hide from the truth; something had happened to the soul of the Roman people. Words and gifts alone wouldn’t take away the memory of the nine days of horror. The screams of dying children still rang in the people’s ears, and the nights were haunted by memories of themselves and their dear ones running back and forth in panic between the blazing ends of narrow streets.

A scapegoat was needed.

And where better to find a scapegoat than among that element of the Roman population that was the weakest, the most alien, and the most despised?

“The Jews, who blaspheme our gods, and refuse to take part in our religious festivals!” said the poet Lucan, a long time enemy of the Jews. “They despise us and refuse to worship Caesar. They have a horrible and mysterious religion, a god who nobody sees, and who demands they sacrifice their happiness, and even their lives, to him. They let themselves be sacrificed like sheep for the sake of their god. Would it be any wonder if their god commanded them to destroy the city of their enemies?

“Have you noticed how many candles they light on the seventh day? Doesn’t that prove their god is a lover of fire? And how about the fact that not a single Jewish home was destroyed by the fire, but stopped dead on the banks of the Tiber? Not only that, it didn’t even go in the other direction, along the Via Appia, where the Jews have settled recently. The people of Rome will easily understand that these aliens are the only ones capable of committing such a crime.

“And what about their talk of a certain ‘Christ,’ who has supposedly appeared as their liberator? Who is this ‘Christ,’ and what does he threaten?”

Lucan pointed to the number of Roman temples destroyed in the fire as additional proof that only the godless Jews could have perpetrated the crime.

* * * * *

When Nero called together the council of his intimates to discuss the question of finding a scapegoat, he also invited old Seneca.

Ever since Nero freed him from the consular office, Seneca had clung to his private life, spending his days either in his city home or at his country estate. He gave himself completely to his studies, and was engaged in a final, desperate search for the essence of the divinity he’d never been able to find among the gods, but that he believed could be found in the laws of nature. He was working on a thesis in which he compared the laws of nature with the laws of ethics. He discovered that there is not only an imperative logic of cause and effect in natural law, but also a higher logic that provides a counterpoise to evil. This brought him to the threshold of that faith he never entered.

“We believe,” he wrote, “that we are in the temple of nature; but the truth is we still linger in her corridors.”

Though he never crossed the threshold, his new perceptions did influence his character. Near the end of his life, he actually began to live in closer accord with the principles he’d so long proclaimed in his letters. He overcame his lust for worldly possessions, he abandoned the pursuit of wealth, and he lived the life of a Nazarite, eating only bread and water. His only wish was to be forgotten by Nero and by Nero’s shameful world, so that he might dedicate himself to his studies without interruption. In this he was disappointed, for Nero demanded his presence in the council on important occasions.

At the secret council that discussed the question of the scapegoat, Nero asked Seneca for his opinion.

“I consider,” said Seneca, “that the Jewish faith in an invisible god, and their blind devotion to him, is something fit for slaves, but unworthy of freedmen. Nevertheless, their faith is legal and has had the sanction of all the greatest Caesars. They’ve lived in Rome since time immemorial, and can be found in every part of the empire. The people are in daily contact with them in a hundred ways. And though it’s true that people make fun of them, it’s also true that many have begun to imitate them and visit their synagogues, both here and in the provinces.

“It won’t be easy to convince the Romans that people whose shops and stores are in the rich streets of the Campus Martius, and on the Via Sacra, and who are spread in all precincts of the city, would set fire to Rome in an act of self-destruction. Besides, persecuting the Jews here might start a rebellion in Judea, and riots in other parts of the empire. Nor would it be off the mark for me to say that one cannot wipe out the evil deeds of others by committing evil deeds oneself.

“Nor, Caesar, can one cleanse oneself of guilt by accusing the innocent. It is only by good deeds that we can cleanse ourselves of our own guilt. Therefore I relinquish the greater part of my possessions to rebuild Rome. And it is my advice that all present do likewise.”

The old philosopher looked calmly at Nero as he uttered these words.

Caesar was dumbstruck. He tried to speak, but all that came from his mouth was the tip of his tongue. His short, fleshy neck expanded, until it resembled a huge goiter.

But Seneca was at peace. A patient smile settled on his hard, granitelike features. His eyes were filled with a fresh, steady light. For the first time, he overcame the fear of death and said what was in his heart rather than what Nero wanted to hear.

“Tigellinus!” exclaimed Nero, his voice hoarse with rage. This told the courtiers that Seneca’s end had not yet come, for if it had, Nero would have smiled softly instead of showing anger.

Tigellinus began in a pious, restrained voice, “The calamity fallen on the city of our gods is so great that only you, O Caesar, were able to fittingly lament it in your immortal ode. The gods are aghast at the destruction of their temples, and they cannot be placated, O Caesar, by prayer and sacrifice alone. Who knows what greater calamity awaits us if we do not placate them with the act of vengeance they want?

“Rome is sick and angry. Rome is thirsty for the blood of those who have reduced her city to ashes. This act of horror can be atoned for only by a greater act of horror. The only way to win back the favor of the gods is to find the guilty and visit on them such punishment as will satisfy the gods. The Romans must see torn flesh, bleeding and burning in an act of retribution.

“You, O Caesar, must show honest Romans that you will not stand by indifferently when they clamor for revenge. You must appease Rome and the gods by a judgment that no Caesar before you has ever carried out. There must be great spectacles, at which all the punishments rained by Pluto on the daughters of Danaus are rained down on those who are guilty of Rome’s destruction.

“And who are the guilty? Surely not all the Jews. I agree with Seneca. We can’t take an entire people and throw it to the beasts. We can’t ascribe guilt on a religion sanctioned and legalized by a line of Caesars. That could indeed cause riots.

“But who says all Jews are guilty of burning Rome? Certainly the rich merchant of the Campus Martius or the Via Sacra wouldn’t give his own shop to the flames. There are certainly decent Jews, who’ve adopted our manners and our civilization.

“But there are masses of poor Jews on the other side of the Tiber who are called ‘Christians,’ after a certain criminal, Christ, whom Pontius Pilate put to death. Do you know what the name ‘Christ’ means? It means ‘the anointed one.’ The fanatical Jews believe that this Christ is a king and Caesar. They believe that he rose from the dead, and that he will soon return and ascend a throne of judgment. And do you know who he will judge? You, Nero. He will judge you and me, and anyone who doesn’t believe in him!”

A burst of laughter came from the assembly, partly of derision and partly of relief. Tigellinus waited, then continued, “This Christ is their Caesar, O Nero, not you. And as if that criminal fanaticism weren’t enough, they try to bring others down to their level. Roman slaves are infected with this disease, including some of my own. They don’t think of themselves as slaves. They insist on knowing their own children and creating their own families. They avoid work on the Jewish Sabbath, and they disobey any commands that are contrary to their ritual. They have only one Dominus, Christ.

“Search well, all of you. You will find the pestilence among your own slaves. Worse, I’ve heard that there are Roman matrons, wives of patricians, who are tainted with the criminal superstition. I have reason to believe that the wife of a certain senator, who shall remain nameless, has accepted their faith. And that’s not all! The legionaries have also been corrupted. There are slaves, freedmen, and legionaries in your house, Nero, who worship Christ rather than you. They meet secretly at night and celebrate mystic rites. They bow before an ass’s head and eat human flesh. They drink the blood of slaughtered infants. I have this on the authority of my own spies.

“It is they who set fire to Rome at the command of their god. They are to blame if our gods have withdrawn their favor from us. I’ve already ordered that my Christian slaves be put to the torture, so they may reveal the names of their fellow conspirators. The courts will do the rest.

“Rome demands revenge, O Caesar. The gods demand revenge! The whole world demands revenge against the enemies of mankind! And your hand, O Caesar, shall be uplifted to give the gods, and Rome, and the world, that which they demand!”

Nero rose from his chair, went over to Tigellinus, and kissed him resoundingly on the mouth.