In 44 BC the respected
Roman seer and soothsayer Spurinna warned the great Consul and ruler of the
Roman Empire Julius Caesar about the “ides of March”. He counselled him not to
go out on that day because he had perceived that something terrible would
happen.
According to the Roman
calendar the ides of March was the 15th of March. Caesar treated the prophecy
and the warning with ridicule and contempt, as is often the case with most men
of power, and he chose to ignore it.
According to the Greek
historian and essayist Plutarch, on the morning of March 15th, whilst on his
way to the Theatre at Pompei, Julius Caesar saw Spurinna again and disdainfully
whispered into his ear that the ides of March had come, thereby mocking the old
man and his prophecy. The soothsayer smiled and responded by calmly saying, “Ay
Caesar, the ides of March has indeed come but it has not yet ended”.
Later on that same day on
his return to Rome and as he entered the great hall and hallowed chambers of
the Senate, the great Julius Caesar was stabbed to death by no less than 60 of
his most trusted colleagues in the Senate, including Marcus Brutus, his young
protegee who hailed from a noble and respected Roman family, who he had
supported all his life and who he had virtually adopted as his own son.
History records that such
was the courage, strength and fortitude of Caesar that even after dozens of
vicious and deep fatal stabs were inflicted all over his ageing body and even
as his blood flowed all over the floor of the Senate, he still stood up proud,
refusing to bend his knee, refusing to plead for his life and refusing to fall.
What a man he was! It was
only after the last of the conspirators, his very own Marcus Brutus, walked up
to him slowly, looked him in the eye and plunged his long and sharp dagger deep
into the old mans heart that Caesar gave up, yelled in pain and whispered the
famous latin words, “Et tu Brute?” meaning “and you too Brutus?”? He ended it
by saying “then Caesar falls” after which he fell down and gave up the ghost.
The truth is that he died
more of a broken heart as a result of the betrayal of those that he trusted and
loved, like Marcus Brutus, than he did from the physical stab wounds that were
inflicted on him by the other Senators and his political enemies. When he saw,
felt and suffered Brutus’ betrayal and treachery he gave up hope and lost his
will to continue to live.
What a royal tragedy this
was! What a waste of human life and greatness! What a gruesome and complicated
mess! What a way for the most powerful man on earth of his time to end his
days. What a way for a gallant and noble son of Rome, a man of valour and a
great and irresistible warrior, clothed by the Living God in magnificence,
splendour and glory to go down and leave the earthly plain.
This was a valiant and
courageous man who had achieved greatness and who was bestowed with awesome
power and unprecedented glory by the God of Heaven and the Lord of Hosts. This
was a man who went to the British Isles, who conquered and bound their ruling
spirit Brittania and who proudly proclaimed those famous latin words, “veni,
vedi, vici”, meaning “I came, I saw, I conquered”.
This was a man who turned
Egypt into a vassal state, who overwhelmed the Greeks, who conquered Europe,
who mastered the Middle East, who ruled the entire civilised world and who bedded
and tamed the great African Queen Cleopatra. Yet this was also a man who was
also deeply flawed: an unforgiving man who could not reign in his immeasurable
and profound sense of narcissisms, who could not control his obsession with
power and desire to dominate others and who could not shed his sense of pride,
self-importance and vanity.
This was an arrogant man
who listened to no-one, who took pleasure in being worshipped, who loved to be revered,
who relentlessly persecuted his enemies, who showed cruelty to his detractors,
who scorned his three wives, who had contempt for his clerics, who mocked the
sacred prophecies and who defied the Living God and the Ancient of Days.
Predictably and sadly it all eventually caught up with him and, in the end, he
was taken despatched from this world in the most agonising and pitiful way,
wallowing in a pool of his own blood, slaughtered, not by his traditional and
known enemies, but rather by his own political associates, loved ones and
erstwhile friends.
If Caesar had listened to
his youngest wife, the beautiful Calpurnia, that ill-fated morning and not
stepped out he would not have been murdered and Roman, nay world, history would
have been very different. If he had listened to Spurinna, the great seer and soothsayer,
who the God of Heaven had used to speak to him and if he had shown humility and
heeded the seer’s warning about the ides of March, Caesar would have lived to
finish the work that he started and to fulfil his vision.
If he had not become the
victim of his own vanity and obsessions and if he had not turned from being a
great and much-loved war general and hero into a beastly and dictatorial bully
he would not have turned the hearts of the Senate against all that he stood
for, he would not have provoked the wrath of God and he would not have kindled
and stoked the bitterness, hatred and enmity of even his most trusted loved
ones and men like Marcus Brutus.
If he had not sought to
destroy all his enemies with a bitter vengeance and if he had not killed,
incarcerated, jailed and tortured the innocent and those that had done no wrong
he would have attracted the mercies of God and the Lord would have protected
him from his relentless and implacable enemies. If he had not abused power,
brought sorrow, hardship and pain to the people, played God and sought to
impose his wicked will over the nation he would have lived longer and he would
have died peacefully in his bed many years later as a fulfilled and happy old
man.
If he had not allowed
himself to be transformed from being a great warrior and war hero who feared
and honoured God, who believed in justice, equity, fairness and the rule of
law, who upheld the sanctity and integrity of the republic and who defended the
constitution and the sacredness of the Senate into a mean-spirited,
power-hungry, obsessive and brutal tyrant he would have lived for much longer.
If he had not attempted to
transform himself from being an accommodating Consul and the humble leader of
the Republic of Rome into a life-long dictator and all-powerful emperor who
could tolerate no criticism, who would brook no opposition and who would kill,
brutalise and demonise his enemies, lock up and humiliate his critics and seek
to destroy the destiny and very essence of his nation, he would have lived for
much longer.
If he had not used his
brutal army to murder young and defenceless activists, opposition figures and
protestors or his secret police to torture innocent people and lock them up all
over the country without any recourse to the law or respect for their civil
liberties, human rights or the courts, he would have lived for much longer. If
he had not attacked and sought to blackmail,
humiliate and intimidate the Judiciary and if he had not attempted to
politicise, manipulate and corrupt the administration of justice in his nation
he would have lived for much longer.
If he had not treated the
opposition with disdain and contempt and if he had not sought to decimate and
destroy their ranks by foul means and the dishonourable despatch, planting and
deployment of a bunch of merciless, crooked and treacherous blacklegs,
traitors, moles, gangsters, saboteurs and murderers in their ranks he would
have lived for much longer.
I could go on and on. When
men play God all manner of tragedies stalk them and they never end well. That
is the lesson of history and that is what we are seeing unfolding in Nigeria
today. Persecution and the abuse of power always attract a heavy price for
those who indulge in it: this is especially so when they hate God’s children
and His anointed and they persecute the Church and His clerics.
(TO BE CONTINUED).
By Fani-Kayode
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