Max Weber on Charismatic Leadership

The concept of charisma has made its way into multiple treatments of the imperial cult in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, starting with Taeger’s Charisma. Studien zur Geschichte des Antiken Herrscherskultes (Reference Weinstock1957) and continuing up to Boschung’s brief Reference Boschung, Boschung and Hammerstaedt2015 article, “Divus Augustus. Das Charisma des Herrschers und seine postume Beglaubigung.”Footnote ¹ Ironically, neither of these scholars actually attempt to define categorically how the worship of Augustus, both in his own lifetime and afterwards, fits into Weber’s theories of charismatic leadership. Indeed, while the term “charisma” is frequently bandied about in Classical scholarship, few have actually addressed the difficulties in trying to apply Weber’s concept of charisma and charismatic leadership to Augustus. Hatscher (Reference Hatscher2000) attempted to explain how Weber’s concept of charismatic leadership could be applied to multiple leaders at the end of the Republic. In particular, he focused on Sulla and Julius Caesar as leaders who fit his criteria, eschewing Octavian/Augustus as a charismatic leader. Despite his effort, his treatment was excoriated by Flaig (Reference Flaig2004) and gently refuted by David (Reference David2002).Footnote ²

In 2006, Lendon offered a more thorough refutation of the general application of Weber’s concept of “legitimate authority” (legitime Herrschaft) to ancient Rome. He asserted (Reference Lendon and Kolb2006: 57) that Classicists have too casually sampled from Weber’s theories without truly understanding them and that Augustus’ charisma was not hereditary. This argument was particularly aimed at Ando (Reference Ando2000: xii), who claimed that Augustus was a charismatic leader but did not follow up on the process which transferred that personal charisma to the office of the principate. Lendon highlighted the difficulties inherent in applying charisma to the principate since Weber’s works “display a considerable degree of confusion and internal contradiction” (Reference Lendon and Kolb2006: 54). Indeed, the three types of Weberian authority (Herrschaft) – rational/legal, traditional, and charismatic – do not exist in isolation from each other. One would be hard pressed to apply any of these terms exclusively to any system of government used by the Romans. The last of these is especially problematic. While the terms legal and traditional are somewhat grounded in tangible and definable realities, charisma is a term borrowed from the often intangible and indefinable world of religious experience.

To complicate matters even further, Weber himself never fully defined the process of routinization, nor did he always distinguish charismatic leadership from his two other forms of legitimate Herrschaft. Thus, Ando theorizes, “With these cautions in mind, we may begin with the hypotheses that the Senate understood the emperor’s rule to be based on rational grounds, that the army stressed the traditional nature of his power, and that the population of the provinces viewed him as a charismatic figure in Weber’s sense” (Reference Ando2000: 25). Ando applies this blanket statement towards all emperors, not just Augustus. But claiming all emperors to be charismatic simply by virtue of their office undermines Weber’s definition of charisma as “extraordinary” (außeralltäglich) and revolutionary. Moreover, Ando does not explain what he means when he says that the Senate understood the princeps to have authority based on rational/legal grounds. While the emperor could hold the consulship, he often did not. The foundational basis of his unique legal authority, the tribunicia potestas, ran contrary to the intentions of the Republican office of Plebeian Tribune (especially considering Augustus was a patrician).Footnote ³ Augustus’ election as Pontifex Maximus occurred after he had already secured power through other means. Thus, unlike Republican magistrates who had to canvass for office, the princeps held offices by virtue of being princeps.

Likewise, there is nothing inherently traditional in the authority of the princeps among the army. The princeps commanded the armies through legates and members of his own family but rarely led troops himself after becoming princeps. No one would dispute that Octavian/Augustus seized power through military means.Footnote ⁴ But, as we shall see, his hold over the army was not through their traditional obedience to their commanders but rather their belief in his charismatic ability to ensure victory. Weber (Reference Weber1968: 1125) himself recognized this, citing the eventual ability of the army to proclaim their commander as emperor. Flaig (Reference Flaig2019 [1992]; Reference Flaig, Arnason and Raaflaub2011: 72) has argued that much of the emperor’s power derived from consensus or an “Akzeptanz-System,” requiring the support of the army, the Senate, and the plebs.Footnote ⁵ Charisma is a two-way street. Charisma must be recognized by the leader’s followers.Footnote ⁶ However, the leader must also be able to manipulate his followers in order to secure his position.

Thus, we turn to the charismatic basis for the princeps’ power. The term charisma was originally used by Rudolf Sohm (Reference Sohm1892 and 1923) to describe the hierarchy of the early church. Weber extended its application to contrast with the other two forms of legitimate Herrschaft.Footnote ⁷ While Weber was able to define (to a certain degree) the basis of legal/rational and traditional leadership, the origin of charisma in Paul’s letters as a “divine favor” bestowed by God creates difficulties. Complicating matters further, Weber treated charisma differently in different contexts. In delineating the three pure types of legitimate rule, Weber described the charismatic as “resting on devotion to the exceptional sanctity, heroism or exemplary character of an individual or person, and of the normative patterns or order revealed or ordained by him (charismatic authority)” (Reference Weber1968: 215). Weber expands the religious aspect of charisma to include “heroism” (Heldenkraft) and “extraordinariness” (Vorbildlichkeit). In his treatment of the “routinization” (Veralltäglichung) of charisma, Weber elaborates:

When the crisis eases and the charismatic authority becomes routinized, it ceases to be purely charismatic and turns into an institution. This is precisely what happened with the principate. But I would argue, contrary to Weber’s own perceptions of the principate, that the process was not finalized by Augustus but rather by Tiberius.

Weber himself was certainly familiar with the history of the Roman world, especially the late Republic. His relationship with Theodor Mommsen is described in varying degrees of warmth.Footnote ⁸ But as Furedi points out, “The one person who did not have much of a conversation with Augustus was Max Weber” (Reference Furedi2013: 91). Weber said little about Augustus or the Roman principate in his main treatment of legitimate Herrschaft in Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft (Economy and Society). Weber observed that the legitimacy of the Roman emperor did not stem from any lex de imperio but from “acclamation by the army of a victorious hero” (Heeresakklamation des siegreichischen Helden). He did not take this point any further and immediately moved on to the nature of succession. The Roman emperor could name his successor in a legal sense only as a paterfamilias could name his primary heir. This was how most peaceful successions did take place, including that from Augustus to Tiberius. However, Weber did not mention that Augustus was also responsible for making sure that Tiberius had the necessary legal powers to ensure his succession not only to the role of paterfamilias of the domus Augusta but also as princeps of the state. Without discussing the process, Weber (Reference Weber2005: 495–6) stated that eventually charisma was transferred to the position of princeps. Weber (Reference Weber2005: 497) acknowledged that Augustus was careful in observing Roman aristocratic sensitivity by distinguishing his power from the Hellenistic monarchy threatened by Caesar but went no further in exploring the transition from Republic to principate. Nevertheless, he laid the foundations for later explorations of the nature of charisma and its routinization.

Charisma and Auctoritas

In order to utilize Max Weber’s conception of charisma with respect to Augustus and the principate, we must examine the theory in its sociological context. Roger Eatwell (Reference Eatwell2006) identifies particular aspects of Weber’s ideas of charismatic leadership in his studies of the Fascist and Nazi movements which led to World War ii. I believe these can also be applied to the early principate.Footnote ⁹ After all, Syme was partially inspired to write his critical analysis of Augustus’ rise to power and the institutionalization of the principate, The Roman Revolution (Reference Taeger1939), by the rise of totalitarian governments in Europe in the 1930s.Footnote ¹⁰ By using Eatwell’s criteria, we can answer the fundamental question: was Augustus a charismatic leader in the Weberian sense? Eatwell specifies four traits useful in identifying a charismatic leader: 1) missionary vision; 2) symbiotic hierarchy; 3) Manichean demonization; and 4) personal presence. All of these markers can be found in Augustus’ rise to and consolidation of sole supreme power.

First, Eatwell specifies: “Charismatic leaders may at times make compromises… However, ultimately true charismatics are driven by some form of mission… This sense of mission is often linked to a foundation myth” (Reference Eatwell2006: 144). While we can never truly know how Octavian felt at the time of Caesar’s death, later authors and the considerably older Augustus all assert that Octavian’s rise to power stemmed from a desire to avenge his father and to restore the Republic. Cicero, an eyewitness to the aftermath of Caesar’s assassination, believed that he could compel Octavian to align his interests with those of the boni seeking to restore the oligarchic Republic, as opposed to Mark Antony, who seemed to have stepped into the dictator’s shoes. D. Brutus claimed that Cicero considered Octavian “a young man to be praised, honored, and then eliminated” (laudandum adulescentem, ornandum, tollendum, Cic. Ad Fam. 11.20.1).Footnote ¹¹ Later authors anecdotally ascribe to Cicero an awareness of Octavian’s future greatness. Plutarch maintains that Cicero was inclined to help the young Octavian not only because of his hatred of Antony and affection for Octavian’s stepfather, Marcius Philippus, but also because of a prophetic dream:

Even more auspiciously, Octavian had been born in Cicero’s consulship. Suetonius (Aug. 94) also cites harbingers of Octavian’s future greatness, although many of these may be later interpolations or fabrications. Regardless of the origin of these stories, the fact remains that such prophecies of future greatness were circulating after Augustus came to power and were given credence.

Augustus also did everything he could to enhance this charismatic image. In addition to accepting divine honors indirectly while refusing them outright, he engaged in certain behaviors which might make him seem more than human. Suetonius (Aug. 79.1) relates the story of a Gallic chief who was especially moved by Augustus’ countenance (vultus), which was so tranquil and serene that the Gaul abandoned plans to throw him off a cliff. Suetonius adds that Augustus had clear and shining eyes (oculos habuit claros ac nitidos), from which he wished it to be thought that there was in them something of a divine strength (quiddam divini vigoris), and he was pleased if, whenever he looked at anyone very closely, that person lowered his face as if before the glow of the sun (ad fulgorem solis vultum summitteret, Aug. 79.2). Augustus promoted his charismatic image with actions which seemed to be favored by the gods themselves, beginning with the vengeance visited upon Caesar’s assassins and culminating in his achievement of peace. Augustus himself later delineated his own motivations in the Res Gestae, completed shortly before his death. He justified his pietas in avenging his father and, more importantly, foregrounded his role in ending a nearly hundred-year cycle of civil wars. Much has been written on the Saeculum Augustum, and we need not rehash it here (see especially Zanker Reference Zanker1988, Chapter 5). Needless to say, both Augustus and his contemporaries believed that he had been divinely sent to bring peace to the Roman world.

The second of Eatwell’s criteria for identifying a charismatic leader centers on what he terms “symbiotic hierarchy.” As he observes, “Charismatics can at times also portray themselves as ordinary men, merely obeying the wishes of the people” (Reference Eatwell2006: 145). Augustus portrayed himself as civilis princeps.Footnote ¹² According to Suetonius (Aug. 73, 76–7, 86–7), his mannerisms, behavior, conversational speech, and even his diet created the image of a humble man who lived no differently from other Romans.Footnote ¹³ Although the reality is far more complicated, for our purposes, image is more important than reality.

Octavian’s/Augustus’ desire to portray himself as a man of the people was guided by the nature of the conflict through which he came to power and closely connected to the third specification for charismatic leadership – demonization of the enemy. Octavian benefited greatly from vilifying Antony’s alliance with Cleopatra. According to the Res Gestae (RG 25), tota Italia swore an oath to support Octavian as he headed east to destroy the Egyptian queen. Horace’s famous ode (Car. 1.37) celebrating the victory at Actium indicates the perception of Cleopatra in contemporary Rome. After the fall of Antony and Cleopatra, Augustus was able to use other foreign conflicts to add to his glory. The Res Gestae is peppered with names of subject kings and peoples. More importantly, in 27 bc Augustus did return several provinces to the Roman people but retained any provinces with substantial numbers of troops. This allowed him to claim military victories fought, if not by himself, then by generals fighting under his auspices.Footnote ¹⁴

Finally, Eatwell acknowledges that the charismatic leader must possess that certain je ne sais quoi which modern popular culture identifies with the term “charisma.” According to Suetonius (Aug. 79.1), Augustus’ personal appearance was pleasing and his manner graceful but not artificial. Extant statues of Augustus, most famously that found at Livia’s villa at Prima Porta, project such a charismatic bearing regardless of Augustus’ actual appearance. Beyond his personal appearance was his meteoric rise to power at a young age and his ability to create consensus. Writing considerably later, Tacitus and Dio claim to report the mood at Augustus’ funeral. While Tacitus reports the negatives as well as the positives, Dio has Tiberius deliver a eulogy in which Augustus is portrayed as superhuman. But both agree that it was Octavian’s/Augustus’ ability to adapt to any political situation which was the key to his success (see esp. Tac. Ann. 1.2, 1.9; Dio 56.39). It was not for nothing that his first signet ring bore the sign of a sphinx (Pliny, HN 37.10; Dio 51.3.6). Pliny further adds that the sphinx was replaced by the image of Alexander the Great, another charismatic figure; Dio states that it was an image of Augustus himself. This then became the seal for all later emperors.Footnote ¹⁵

Thus, Augustus fits all four of the criteria which Eatwell uses to examine the charismatic qualities of autocratic leaders in the era prior to World War ii, especially Mussolini (who expressed sincere admiration for the first princeps).Footnote ¹⁶ Eatwell further examines four conditions under which a charismatic leader can rise to power. The first of these, and the one emphasized originally by Weber, is a moment of national crisis.Footnote ¹⁷ By any reckoning, in the aftermath of Caesar’s murder, the Roman constitution, whatever that entailed, was undergoing the ultimate crisis of identity. As Cicero observed (Att. 14.12), the liberators had failed to accomplish their goal because they only did half of what was needed: they had not assassinated Mark Antony. Chaos engulfed the Roman world in the years 44–42 bc, leading to Cicero’s own death. The solution to restoring stability was supposedly an emergency coalition of three men with a stake in Caesar’s legacy – triumviri rei publicae constituendae. Ultimately, the other two made tactical errors which allowed Octavian to emerge as victor. But in order to shed the mantle of triumvir and institute a new era of peace and prosperity, Octavian entered the Senate in January of 27 bc and relinquished his powers (which had already expired).Footnote ¹⁸ He emerged even stronger, confirmed in his position as primus inter pares and dubbed Augustus.

Eatwell further observes, “the rise of charismatic leaders requires some form of historical-cultural legitimation” (Reference Eatwell2006: 149). In many ways, Augustus was successful because he grafted his charismatic leadership onto pre-existing institutions. Augustus’ revival of ancient cults and rejection of extraordinary honors erased any fears that Julius Caesar’s heir and namesake would follow in his adoptive father’s footsteps. By refusing the position of dictator, even in its traditional iteration as an emergency office limited to six months, Augustus made a strong statement about the ways in which he would wield power. Indeed, the only innovation which Augustus introduced to strengthen his position was tribunicia potestas. Unable to hold the office of Tribune of the Plebs without having himself adopted out of the Iulii Caesares, Augustus needed a way to set himself apart from other senators and, more importantly, to interpose his veto without coming across as a tyrant.Footnote ¹⁹ The sacrosanctity which came with the position also played into his image as a divine savior.

According to Eatwell’s third situational criterion, “charismatic leaders are more likely to emerge when political parties are weak or held in contempt” (Reference Eatwell2006: 150). While Rome did not have political parties in the modern sense, it certainly had its share of factions. The much-discussed Optimates and Populares were not the only voices in the political arena of the late Republic, but they were the loudest. The death of Caesar left Antony to assume the mantle of the Populares; and yet, it did not suit him. The elimination of Brutus and Cassius left Sextus Pompey as the last “Pompeian,” but he was unable to capitalize on this reputation. Octavian was able to appeal to both sides, winning over Cicero, at least somewhat, then ultimately rousing the Caesarian party to avenge Caesar’s death. By playing both sides against the middle, Augustus was able ultimately to achieve Cicero’s dream of a consensus ordinum. As Tacitus observed (Ann. 1.2), Augustus took control of a world worn out by war and factionalism.

The final situational construct laid out by Eatwell is a societal loss of faith in religious, social, and political institutions. Following the psychological studies of Friedländer (Reference Friedländer1978), Eatwell asserts, “there are certain historical conditions, such as the waning of religion, in which people in large numbers become ‘charisma hungry’” (Reference Eatwell2006: 151). The loss of faith in institutions leads to varying degrees of fear. This fear then drives people to look for a savior. A charismatic leader “helps give people a sense that politics is not pointless – that the leader can change things, whilst at the same time remaining responsive to the followers’ needs” (Reference Eatwell2006: 151).Footnote ²⁰ As mentioned earlier, tota Italia swore an oath to Octavian before Actium. In 2 bc, the populus Romanus (along with the Senate and the equites) designated Augustus as pater patriae, which he considered, according to Suetonius (Aug. 58), the crowning honor of his illustrious career.Footnote ²¹ This is confirmed by the fact that the acclamation as pater patriae is the last item featured in the Res Gestae (35). Augustus’ image as a divine savior throughout his lifetime paved the way for his posthumous deification and the routinization of his charisma.

Some would argue that Augustus inherited the charisma of Julius Caesar and later established his leadership on a traditional and legal basis.Footnote ²² Yes, Octavian’s adoption accelerated his rise to power, and, yes, Augustus cloaked his power in Republican institutions. But that does not preclude him from having manipulated his public image to become a charismatic leader in his own right. Augustus was consciously involved in a revival of outdated or long extinct religious institutions as well as conjuring up the memory of heroes of early Rome (see esp. Zanker Reference Zanker1988: 101–139). The very choice of the name Augustus (as opposed to the proposed alternative of Romulus) was designed to recall Ennius’ famous line:

The name was also intended to evoke imagery associated with the verb augeo, as displayed by the prevalent agricultural and bucolic motifs in Augustan monuments like the Ara Pacis.Footnote ²³ Augustus recognized the charismatic power his name would hold for his successor. Upon his adoption, Tiberius became Ti. Iulius Caesar. But when the opportunity arose for him to earn his own unique honorific based on his many triumphs or even the cognomen “Pius” to demonstrate his loyalty to his adoptive father, Augustus interjected, insisting that Tiberius would assume his cognomen upon his death (Suet. Tib. 17.2). Augustus recognized the charismatic power of the name and its ability to help Tiberius succeed to his adoptive father’s unique position.

Tiberius’ inconsistency in using the name after his ascension demonstrates the charismatic power of the cognomen. Cowan (Reference Cowan2009a: 476–7) explains this inconsistency by reasoning that Tiberius, trying to differentiate himself from his predecessor, faced pressure from his peers to imitate Augustus. Two of the most notable instances where Tiberius does use the name are in the letter to Gytheion and the Senatus Consultum de Cn. Pisone Patre (SCPP). The letter to Gytheion, to be discussed in Chapter 2, is addressed to a Greek polis. In the letter, Tiberius refuses divine honors for himself. The SCPP, as we shall discuss in Chapter 4, is a document drafted in the aftermath of the chaos surrounding the death of Germanicus. The document was meant to be published throughout the empire. At least the first of these instances lines up loosely with the assertions of Suetonius (Tib. 26) and Dio (57.8.2) that Tiberius only used the cognomen “Augustus” in correspondence with foreign leaders.Footnote ²⁴ Tiberius used the name Augustus in order to borrow charisma from his predecessor when addressing cities which expected him to have divine qualities, or, in the case of the SCPP, when he needed to display authority throughout the empire in the wake of a major shock to the domus Augusta.

The name Augustus is closely connected to the noun auctoritas.Footnote ²⁵ One of the challenges in analyzing the early principate involves the term auctoritas and the use of that auctoritas to create consensus. Both of these words, used by Augustus himself in the Res Gestae, have connections to ideas of pure charismatic leadership.Footnote ²⁶ Egon Flaig (Reference Flaig2019 [1992], 2015), building on a somewhat neglected article by Hans Instinsky (Reference Instinsky1940), has underscored the importance of consensus in the rule of any princeps.Footnote ²⁷ Consensus was negotiated by a carefully crafted dialogue originating from Octavian’s military power and his desire as Augustus to cloak his charismatic rule with Republican titles. Consensus, auctoritas, and charisma are not mutually exclusive. Indeed, by the primary principle of Weber’s definition of charismatic rule – that the ruled obey the ruler because of their belief in his charismatic authority – consensus is a necessary prerequisite for determining a ruler to be charismatic.

Other scholars have tried to foreground the idea of auctoritas with respect to Augustus’ unique position. In his book on authority as a sociological construct, Furedi (Reference Furedi2013: 91) conflates Weber’s idea of charismatic authority with the Roman concept of auctoritas. He (Reference Weber2013: 92) then rejects the idea that auctoritas is essential to a discussion of charismatic leadership. He cites Galinsky’s (Reference Galinsky1996: 80; cf. Galinsky Reference Galinsky2015) contention that “[Augustus’] leadership was not simply ‘charismatic’ but was defined in terms of traditional virtues.” Galinsky, however, places the emphasis on “simply.” As stated above, charisma and auctoritas are not mutually exclusive.Footnote ²⁸ Adair-Toteff (Reference Adair-Toteff2005) observes that Weber himself had trouble integrating the complex Roman idea of auctoritas into his theories of legitimate rule, often conflating Herrschaft with Autorität.Footnote ²⁹ Despite his dismissal of auctoritas as a complement of Augustus’ charisma, Furedi adds in a footnote, “Augustus’ principate can lay a claim to be associated with all three of Weber’s ideal types of legitimate domination” (Reference Weber2013: 92 n. 103).

The discussion of charisma and auctoritas is complicated by Augustus’ declaration at Res Gestae 34 that he had no more potestas than his fellow magistrates but exceeded them in auctoritas. Rowe proposes that Augustus was using the term auctoritas specifically to refer to his position as princeps senatus. He believes Augustus was stressing the fact that he had colleagues as princeps, especially in his shared magistracies (Reference Rowe2013: 12).Footnote ³⁰ Galinsky (Reference Galinsky2015: 244) rejects Rowe’s argument, demonstrating that Augustus’ auctoritas existed before his leadership of the Senate and extended beyond any influence he may have had with that body. Augustus’ auctoritas was a manifestation of his charisma.Footnote ³¹ Parsi (Reference Parsi1963: 25–6) points out that Tiberius seemed to refuse any claims to personal auctoritas, citing Suetonius’ report (Tib. 27) that Tiberius preferred to be known not as the auctor of a particular proposition in the Senate but as suasor. Yet while Parsi (Reference Parsi1963: 23) argues that Tiberius’ refusal to claim auctoritas was a denial that he had inherited Augustus’ charisma, in fact it was quite the opposite. Tiberius had inherited Augustus’ charisma but had manifestly refused to claim any for himself. Indeed, auctoritas was not a hallmark of later emperors. While emperors certainly had auctoritas, once Tiberius had used Augustus’ charisma and auctoritas to institutionalize the principate, the person holding the position of princeps had a rational/legal basis for his authority.

Recusatio, Cunctatio, or Impudentissimus Mimus? Tiberius Accepts His Burden

While scholars in religious studies and political science have made case studies of the routinization of charisma, the most detailed and seminal work on the phenomenon has been done in the field of organizational leadership.Footnote ³² In their book on Charismatic Leadership in Organizations, Conger and Kanungo (Reference Conger and Kanungo1998: 28) lamented, “We know almost nothing about the routinization of charismatic leadership.” Trice and Beyer (Reference Trice and Beyer1986: 134–5) laid the groundwork for analyses of routinization by examining leadership transitions in nonprofit organizations. In a study focusing on Alcoholics Anonymous and the National Council on Alcoholism, they distinguished key aspects necessary for the routinization of charisma after the death or resignation of the charismatic leader:

1. (1) “the development of an administrative apparatus, that stands apart from the charismatic, to cope with the ongoing operating needs generated by putting the charismatic’s program into practice.”

2. (2) “the transformation and transference of the charisma to others in the organization by means of rites, ceremonials, and symbols.”

3. (3) “the incorporation of the charismatic’s message and mission into the written and oral traditions of the organization.”

4. (4) “the selection of a successor who resembles the charismatic sufficiently to be like a ‘reincarnation’.”

5. (5) “the degree to which the organization (or other collectivity) continues to express, to work toward, and to cohere around the charismatic message and mission of the founder (or reformer).”

All of these factors in the routinization of charisma will be discussed in what follows. In particular, the prescription laid out under Rubric 2 can be seen in the institution and propagation of the cult of Divus Augustus, as we will examine in Chapter 2. Those found in Rubrics 1 and 5 will be discussed in Chapter 3 on Tiberius’ continuation of Augustus’ policies. Our discussion of Tiberian authors in Chapter 5 and the section in Chapter 4 on Tiberian inscriptions fulfills the requirements for Rubric 3.

But Weber himself (Reference Weber1968: 246–9) noted that the most important factor for the routinization of charisma was that laid out by Rubric 4, the choice of successor. He believed that one of the following mechanisms could be used:

1. (a) a new charismatic leader could be sought.

2. (b) the new leader could be revealed through divine signs.

3. (c) the charismatic leader could designate his own successor, who would be recognized by his followers.

4. (d) a charismatically qualified administrative staff could designate a successor.

5. (e) charisma could be passed on through heredity (Erbscharisma).

6. (f) charisma could be passed through a specific office with a ritual inauguration.

While Weber treated these as separate circumstances, in the succession of Tiberius we can see elements of each. The predictions of Tiberius’ future greatness (Suet. Tib. 14) which suggest (a) and (b) were likely injected retroactively after Tiberius’ rise to power. The stronger factors are (c) and (e). Augustus designated Tiberius as his political heir (c) by granting him tribunicia potestas and imperium supposedly equal to his own (we will discuss this further below). He made him his familial heir (e) by formally adopting him as his son. Finally, the Senate confirmed Tiberius’ position as Augustus’ political successor, demonstrating aspects of (d) and (f). This process not only passed Augustus’ charisma on to his successor Tiberius (as well as the other members of the domus divina/Augusta) but also began the transfer of Augustan charisma from his own unique statio to the lasting institution of the principate.Footnote ³³

As we shall see, one of the key components of Tiberius’ ability to “routinize the charisma” of Augustus was his own lack of personal charisma and his excessive reliance upon that of his predecessor. In their study on the routinization of the position of a charismatic business leader in a consortium known as SEMATECH (Semiconductor Manufacturing Technology), Beyer and Browning (Reference Beyer and Browning1999) note that one of the reasons why the charismatic image of the original CEO remained so influential was his successor’s lack of charisma.Footnote ³⁴ Conger and Kanungo (Reference Conger and Kanungo1998: 29–30) observed the same phenomenon in similar transitions, most notably those following Steve Jobs, Lee Iacocca, and Walt Disney. The enshrinement of the charisma of a corporate leader is more likely when “a charismatic leader is replaced by a more managerially oriented individual” (Reference Conger and Kanungo1998: 29). Although there are certain authors (especially Velleius) who portray Tiberius as somewhat charismatic, after he became princeps Tiberius’ reclusive nature and inability to communicate with the Senate made him increasingly unpopular.Footnote ³⁵ Thus, Tiberius was forced to perpetuate the charismatic image of Augustus both by claiming that Divus Augustus continued to watch over his family and by promoting the more charismatic members of Augustus’ bloodline, especially Germanicus. Due to this lack of personal charisma, Tiberius “routinized” the charisma of Augustus into the institution of the principate.

The principate was institutionalized not just by Tiberius assuming his father’s statio but also by his ruling as if he were still guided by Augustus. Indeed, Lyasse (Reference Lyasse2008: 96–105) points to multiple examples, some of which will be discussed in later chapters, where Tiberius himself (assuming his words are reported somewhat accurately) reiterates his own inferiority in comparison with the divine mind of Augustus. That is to say, while Augustus had plenty of time to prepare for the inevitable, his choice of Tiberius proved to be more prescient than even he could have foreseen. Had Augustus been succeeded by someone with personal charisma, that person could have radically altered the nascent principate. Or abolished it altogether in favor of a “Hellenistic monarchy,” as was purported to be the goal of Caesar and Antony. Nevertheless, while the transition from Augustus to Tiberius may have been peaceful, it was not without challenges. It was, after all, the first time such a transfer of power had ever taken place.

In his discussion of the ways in which Suetonius frames narratives of succession from one emperor to the other, Osgood (Reference Osgood and Gibson2013) notes the lack of agreement regarding the transition from Augustus to Tiberius in both ancient and modern sources. He specifically mentions the arguments of Syme and Gruen, who stand at opposite ends of the spectrum regarding any succession policy which may or may not have been orchestrated by Augustus. Syme (Reference Syme1939: 341) argued that throughout his career as sole ruler Augustus had carefully delineated a dynastic policy favoring members of his own family. Even with his adoption of Tiberius, Augustus ensured the principate would return to his own bloodline through Tiberius’ adoption of Germanicus, Augustus’ great-nephew, who was also married to Augustus’ granddaughter Agrippina. Gruen (Reference Gruen and Galinsky2005: 38–42) counters that Augustus had notoriously not named a successor when he was gravely ill in 23 bc and had continued to avoid any suggestions that he was hand-picking someone to succeed to his position. As Osgood observes, there are many other opinions between these two extremes. “But there is a simple explanation for this debate: from start to finish, nothing about ‘succession’ was ever made explicit by Augustus, or the Senate and People – there were no edicts, no decrees, no laws about the succession to Augustus” (Reference Osgood and Gibson2013: 25).

After Actium, Octavian faced a serious dilemma. Once he had defeated Antony and Cleopatra, he no longer needed the extraordinary powers assumed after the expiration of the triumvirate. The example of Caesar was undoubtedly foremost in his mind. Upon his return to Rome, Octavian began a series of negotiations in late 28 bc, formalized in two meetings of the Senate in January of 27 bc. At the first meeting, he laid aside his powers, which were then, for the most part, returned to him by the Senate. At the second, he was recognized with the charismatic cognomen “Augustus.” And, as Rich (Reference Rich and Rivière2012: 78) demonstrates, the renewal of those powers in 18 and 8 bc consolidated Augustus’ legitimacy while still preserving the charade that he would lay down power once it was no longer necessary. The renewal of Augustus’ powers had taken place through senatorial procedure, but there were further steps which increased Augustus’ auctoritas. The last of these steps, and the one Augustus claims in the Res Gestae (35) to have cherished the most, was the acclamation as pater patriae by all classes of Roman society in 2 bc. From his victory at Actium until his death in 14, Augustus had almost forty-five years to define his position.Footnote ³⁶ He also had time to ensure that after his death his statio would be filled by a hand-picked successor. After the disappointing deaths of Marcellus, Agrippa, Lucius, and Gaius, that hand-picked successor could only be Tiberius.

From his youth, Tiberius had been promoted by Augustus through various offices and honors. He rode alongside Augustus’ beloved nephew Marcellus in the Actian triumph (Suet. Tib. 6). When Agrippa died, Augustus chose Tiberius to replace Agrippa (who had replaced Marcellus) as his daughter’s husband. Augustus’ adoption of his grandsons indicated that the future of the regime lay with Gaius and Lucius, not Tiberius; “cruel fate” had other plans. We may never know why Tiberius left Rome in 6 bc and took up an extended residency on Rhodes.Footnote ³⁷ Regardless of why he went, or even why he was allowed to return, by ad 4 Tiberius was the only member of the domus Augusta (besides perhaps Germanicus) whom Augustus trusted to preserve the system of government developed over his long career.

By the death of Augustus, Tiberius had been granted extraordinary powers, control over armies and provinces, and a position in the Senate that seemed to be equal or only slightly inferior to that of Augustus. But those powers had been granted through the advocacy of Augustus. It was not clear what would happen to some of those powers when Augustus died. And yet, Tiberius could not give up the powers granted to him by Augustus (and, nominally, the Senate) without seeming to be an impudentissimus mimus (Suet. Tib. 24.1). There was no template for a peaceful transition of power. If we believe Tacitus (Ann. 1.7), Tiberius immediately sent out messages to the armies and only hesitated to act as princeps in the Senate.Footnote ³⁸

Despite confusion in the subsequent senatorial debates about Tiberius’ new position, an oath of loyalty to Tiberius and the domus Augusta was administered, first to the consuls and then to other members of Roman society (Tac. Ann. 1.7.2). While we cannot know the exact nature of that particular oath, we do have evidence of oaths in the provinces which may reflect the language of the original from Rome. González (Reference González1988: 120) believes that an oath of loyalty to Augustus’ heirs Gaius and Lucius discovered in Baetica was merely one in a series of such oaths, serving as a forerunner to a later oath of allegiance to Tiberius. Weinstock goes even further to assert that the oath of allegiance to Tiberius discovered in Cyprus was authored by Augustus.Footnote ³⁹ He specifies (Reference Weinstock1962: 315–6) two factors in the oath which deviate from the formula found in other known loyalty oaths. The first is the emphasis on obedience (hupakousesthai, peitharchēsein). The second is the injunction to honor the emperor in a religious sense (sebasesthai). Another document from Messene which expresses provincial allegiance to Tiberius in the immediate aftermath of the death of Augustus is even more striking.Footnote ⁴⁰ Throughout the document, Augustus is consistently mentioned before Tiberius, despite the awareness by the provincials that “the god is no longer manifest to us” (38). Provincial magistrates understood the importance of the deification of Augustus in Tiberius’ assumption of his father’s statio.

According to Tacitus (Ann. 1.72.1), while Tiberius may have allowed an oath of loyalty to himself and his family, most likely because such an oath was originally Augustus’ idea, Tiberius refused to allow the Senate to swear on his acta. Tacitus links this with Tiberius’ refusal to accept the honorific title pater patriae, insisting that Tiberius never relented on either matter (cf. Suet. Tib. 26.2). While refusing an oath on his own acta, Tiberius compelled the Senate to swear upon the acta of his predecessor. In 25, Tiberius removed Apidius Merula from the Senate because he had not sworn on the acta of Augustus (Tac. Ann. 4.42.3). While Tiberius understood the need to accept honors and overtures of loyalty to himself and the domus divina/domus Augusta, he also understood that if he accepted excessive honors such as the title of pater patriae and an oath of loyalty to his acta, he would diminish the image of Augustus and, to a certain degree, undermine the power derived from the charisma of his predecessor.

Although Tiberius was Augustus’ adopted son and legal heir, had sent orders to the armies, and had received oaths of loyalty from the provinces, like Augustus, he needed the Senate to formally recognize his statio. Tiberius was attempting the first peaceful succession of power from one princeps to another. That the Senate would accept his assumption of Augustus’ statio seems a foregone conclusion, but there was no blueprint for how that process would play out. Augustus had taken decades to negotiate his power with the Senate. Tiberius had to consolidate his position within a few weeks. Our most detailed sources for the debates in the Senate following Augustus’ death, Tacitus and Dio, fail to agree. Other ancient sources like Velleius and Suetonius further complicate matters in their brevity. For the purposes of this discussion, we will focus on two specific issues: what powers did Tiberius have and did any of them expire with Augustus’ death? and why did Tiberius hesitate in accepting power?

The first of these questions can be dispensed with fairly quickly. The most important power necessary for Tiberius to assert his control over the Senate was tribunicia potestas. This power granted the holder, among other things, the right to summon the Senate. As mentioned above, Augustus had this bestowed upon himself so that he could wield the powers of a Plebeian Tribune without actually being one. He later had the Senate give tribunicia potestas to his trusted adiutor Agrippa. After Agrippa’s death, Augustus relied increasingly upon Tiberius. Thus, Tiberius was granted tribunicia potestas in 6 bc for a five-year period (Suet. Tib. 9.3; Dio 55.9.4).Footnote ⁴¹ That tenure expired while Tiberius was living in virtual exile on Rhodes. After his adoption by Augustus in ad 4, Tiberius was again granted tribunicia potestas, according to Dio (55.13.2) for ten years, although Suetonius (Tib. 16.1) states that it was for five. The contemporary historian Velleius (2.103.3) gives no term limit and adds that Tiberius protested against it (recusante). Tiberius continued to hold tribunicia potestas for the rest of Augustus’ life, either through renewal of the grants (if Suetonius is correct) or through the duration of the ten-year term reported in Dio. And yet, Tiberius’ tribunicia potestas was publicly renewed in 13 (Dio 56.28.1). As Swan (Reference Swan2004: 294) argues, since the previous grant had not yet expired, Augustus was preparing for his approaching death by solidifying Tiberius’ position. Dio mentions in the same passage that Augustus reluctantly accepted a (now formulaic) renewal of his own powers and requested that, on account of his age, he should be allowed to meet with a consilium of senators rather than with the entire Senate. At this point, Tiberius’ tribunicia potestas was likely without a term limit, renewed annually as Augustus’ had been.Footnote ⁴²

If the tribunicia potestas which Tiberius held did not expire upon the death of Augustus and was used to summon the Senate after his death, what of the imperium necessary to control the army? In 27 bc, when Octavian returned power to the Senate, it was not merely as simple as laying aside his position as triumvir (regardless of whether or not he still called himself a triumvir, he had not yet formally renounced those powers). He still held the consulship until 23 bc, so he had the imperium of that magistracy. A bigger issue was his control over the provinces. Thus, when he gave up his powers beyond those of the consulship, the Senate returned to him, indefinitely, imperium pro consulare over all the provinces which had a strong military presence.Footnote ⁴³ Most likely, when Augustus had the Senate renew Tiberius’ tribunicia potestas in 13, he also had them grant Tiberius imperium pro consulare over the provinces under the control of the princeps.Footnote ⁴⁴ In 6, Augustus had associated Tiberius in the foundation of a fund specifically intended to pay for the retirement of veterans, the aerarium militare (Dio 55.25.1–3).Footnote ⁴⁵ In fact, instead of accepting contributions from other aristocrats, Augustus instituted an unpopular tax to supplement the fund. This monopolized the control of the army for Augustus and his family.

The paramount question still remains, if Tiberius held powers equivalent to those of Augustus upon the latter’s death, what exactly was being negotiated in those Senate meetings which took place in September of 14? And why did Tiberius hesitate, if indeed he did hesitate, to accept Augustus’ statio? The most common explanations for Tiberius’ hesitation are laid out by Flaig (Reference Flaig and Reinhard2007; cf. Reference Flaig2019: 236–45). The first, that Tiberius’ powers had expired upon the death of Augustus, has already been dismissed. Likewise, the second explanation, that Tiberius did not have all of the same powers as Augustus. Indefinite tribunicia potestas gave Tiberius power over the Senate, and whatever imperium he held was surely greater than that of any other magistrate. The other three explanations require further discussion. The first of these, that Tacitus, Suetonius, and Dio are correct in attributing fear of the mutinies, especially in Germania, as a reason for Tiberius’ hesitation, will be dealt with in the next section. Subsequently, we will address the two interrelated explanations that Tiberius was clarifying his relationship with the Senate, or, as Flaig believes, was re-enacting a “rite of passage,” akin to Augustus’ so-called recusatio imperii of 27 bc.Footnote ⁴⁶

In order to understand the role played by the mutinies in the events which followed the death of Augustus, we must untangle the problematic timeline laid out by our sources.Footnote ⁴⁷ There are several independently confirmed dates which serve as guidelines for the chronology of events. We know from various fasti (E.-J.² 50), as well as Suetonius (Aug. 100), that Augustus died on August 19, 14. We also know that Augustus was deified on September 17 (E.-J.² 52). Tacitus indicates (Ann. 1.10.8–11.1) that Tiberius did not engage in formal debate about his statio until after the deification of Augustus was ordained. So, Tiberius accepted his position as princeps (or at least ceased to refuse it) no earlier than September 17. We know from astrological tables that the eclipse used by Drusus and Junius Blaesus to quell the Pannonian mutiny can be dated to September 27. Otherwise, the chronology is rather unclear.

Sage (Reference Sage1982/3) offers the most convincing reconstruction of the sequence of events following Augustus’ death.Footnote ⁴⁸ He believes that the mutinies began smoldering among the Pannonian and Rhine legions in early September, a few days after the death of Augustus had been announced.Footnote ⁴⁹ News of the mutinies was likely spreading in Rome before the meeting of the Senate on September 17. Again, we know that the mutiny in Pannonia was not resolved until September 27 and was considered serious enough for Tiberius to send Drusus with a detachment of the Praetorian Guard led by Sejanus. However, the mutiny among the legions in Germania seemed to have been initially resolved by the promises of Germanicus. “News of Germanicus’ success could have arrived by the 14th or 15th of the month” (Sage Reference Sage1982/3: 305). Despite Germanicus’ ill-conceived attempt to conciliate the soldiers, the mutiny among the Rhine legions was not over. The arrival of an embassy from the Senate served to unmask Germanicus’ ruse. Eventually, according to the historical sources, the threat to send away Agrippina and Caligula, the darling of the legions, brought the soldiers to heel.Footnote ⁵⁰

The real question, then, involves Tiberius’ perception of a threat from Germanicus. All the sources agree that Germanicus himself remained loyal to Tiberius (and the implied wishes of Augustus). But Tacitus suggests (Ann. 1.7.6) that there were supporters of Germanicus (perhaps even his own wife) whose devotion conjured up the fear (or hope) that Germanicus might not want to wait his turn. Velleius claims that the soldiers sought a new commander, a new status, and a new form of government (novum ducem, novum statum, novam quaerebant rem publicam, 2.125.1).Footnote ⁵¹ He does not clarify what that nova res publica would have entailed but indicates civil war and the overthrow of the Augustan system. Woodman (Reference Woodman1998: 57) believes that this may indeed have been a genuine concern of Tiberius, who made sure to grant Germanicus maius imperium.Footnote ⁵² Even if Germanicus had decided to make a power play, the loyalty of the Praetorian Guard and Tiberius’ presence in Rome would have given Tiberius the upper hand.

The notion that the soldiers in Germania seriously intended to oust Tiberius in favor of Germanicus, believing that he would improve their conditions, is a fiction fashioned by the writers of the later reigns of Caligula and Claudius.Footnote ⁵³ The reasons for the mutiny in Germania were the same as those for the mutiny in Pannonia: extension of service time in the later years of Augustus, abuse by centurions and other middle officers, and resentment of the high pay afforded to the Praetorian Guard while wages for legionaries remained stagnant.Footnote ⁵⁴ The dramatic nature of the mutinies was exacerbated by the troops recently conscripted in Rome and sent to these areas in the aftermath of the Pannonian revolt and the Varian disaster (Tac. Ann. 1.31.4; cf. Dio 56.23, 57.5.4). Despite the persistent attempts to portray Germanicus as one who (like his father Drusus) might have “restored the Republic,” Germanicus’ confidence in his personal charisma (and that of his wife) would indicate the opposite. His first solution to the mutiny in Germania was to threaten suicide. When that failed (spectacularly) after a soldier offered him a sharper sword, Germanicus used his wife and son (the future emperor Caligula) as bargaining chips. Subsequently, Germanicus unleashed slaughter by allowing those troops he deemed loyal to himself to “discipline” the ringleaders of the mutiny (Tac. Ann. 1.49). He then led his men on an unprovoked genocidal attack against the Marsi (Tac. Ann. 1.50).

While many scholars question the extent to which Tiberius allowed fear of a challenge from Germanicus to delay his consolidation of power, Pettinger (Reference Pettinger2012) claims, relying heavily on Suetonius (Tib. 25.1), that not only was Tiberius afraid of Germanicus, but he was also concerned about possible uprisings led by Clemens, the slave posing as Agrippa Postumus, and the conspiracy of Libo. Both the arrest of Clemens and the trial of Libo are firmly set by Tacitus in the year 16, two years after the accession debate.Footnote ⁵⁵ If the murder of Agrippa took place shortly after the death of Augustus on August 19, it would be difficult to imagine a slave posing as him making his way to the legions and stirring up trouble before the senatorial debate of September 17.Footnote ⁵⁶ While Pettinger is perhaps correct in connecting all these figures to a larger problem within the domus Augusta, especially among the legions of Germania, there is no evidence in our other sources that Tiberius was aware of any movement by Clemens at this time, nor that Libo had amassed a following to challenge Tiberius. Even more unlikely is the notion that Libo, Clemens, and Germanicus were all part of a larger movement to “restore the Republic.”Footnote ⁵⁷ This is merely wishful thinking on the part of later historians, as well as a desire to set up Germanicus as a foil for Tiberius, who was portrayed as becoming increasingly tyrannical after the death of his adopted son.

If we discard the idea that Tiberius was afraid of a challenge to his supremacy, we are then left with the explanations for his hesitation to accept Augustus’ statio which have occupied modern historians: either he was badly re-enacting Augustus’ so-called recusatio imperii from 27 bc, or he was trying to allow the Senate some say in how his government would be formed. Given, however, that Augustus himself had cloaked his power in Republican offices and had renegotiated his role in the state after laying down his position as triumvir, these two explanations cannot be taken as incompatible. As for the first explanation, Flaig (Reference Flaig and Reinhard2007), who has consistently argued that the principate was based on negotiations of consensus between various facets of society, believes that in refusing exceptional powers Tiberius was engaging in a “performative act” which he traces back to previous politicians, especially Pompey. Flaig (Reference Flaig and Reinhard2007: 80 n. 16) rejects any comparisons with Augustus’ so-called recusatio imperii of 27 bc. But Augustus himself was renouncing the emergency powers granted during the triumvirate and distancing himself from the illegal positions held by Julius Caesar, thus falling in line more closely with the actions of Pompey than those of his adoptive father. Moreover, even if their situations were not entirely the same, Tiberius’ desire to receive from the Senate a formal confirmation of powers which he already held and his proposal to share the burden of government with others bear too many resemblances to accounts of Augustus’ actions in 27 bc to be ignored.Footnote ⁵⁸ Whether or not Tiberius was sincere (and I believe he was) in beginning his reign by negotiating with the Senate, he sent a clear message that his principate should merely be seen as a continuation of that of Augustus. This was not a ritual that was later adopted by other emperors. We have no evidence of any such recusatio among any of the other Julio-Claudians or even among those who succeeded them.Footnote ⁵⁹

Augustus’ negotiations with the Senate in January of 27 bc resulted in him being recognized as primus inter pares. This highlighted his extraordinary auctoritas. But at that point he was still holding the consulship. As already discussed, when he discontinued holding that office in 23 bc, he was granted tribunicia potestas. A decade later he became Pontifex Maximus. And a decade after that, he was hailed as pater patriae. Although Tiberius condensed into a few weeks the consolidation of powers which Augustus had accumulated over years, he did preserve the illusion that the Senate had the right to grant those powers. Even if he held imperium and tribunicia potestas upon Augustus’ death, Tiberius did not become Pontifex Maximus until March of 15.Footnote ⁶⁰ Although the senatorial debates following the death of Augustus may cause confusion for those who would like to pinpoint a dies imperii, Tiberius was acknowledging that Augustus consistently renegotiated his role in government.Footnote ⁶¹

Ironically, part of the confusion regarding Tiberius’ role after Augustus’ death may have been caused by Augustus himself. According to Dio, in addition to the documents mentioned by Suetonius (his will, instructions for his funeral, and an account of the empire), Augustus left behind a set of directives (entolas kai episkēpseis) for Tiberius and the people. These included restrictions on freeing slaves and creating new citizens, intended to preserve Augustus’ ideal of creating Roman citizens the old-fashioned way. Another included the prohibition, mentioned by Tacitus (Ann. 1.11.4), against expanding the borders of the empire. But the most problematic, and the most important in the context of the succession debate, is the following: “He exhorted them to trust the public business to all who had ability both to understand and to act, and never to let it depend on any one person; in this way no one would set his mind on a tyranny, nor would the State, on the other hand, go to ruin if one man fell” (Dio [Xiph.] 56.33.4; Loeb trans. Cary).Footnote ⁶² Considering that upon Augustus’ death Tiberius had at least some, if not all, of the same powers as Augustus, what exactly did these instructions mean?

While Ober (Reference Ober1982) believes that all of the advice detailed by Dio was actually the result of Tiberius trying to attribute his own ideas to Augustus, at least the first two, limiting citizenship and the manumission of slaves, were right in line with Augustus’ own professed policies.Footnote ⁶³ We will deal with the prohibition on expanding the empire in Chapter 3, but this too was probably in line with Augustus’ wishes at the time. Thus, the recommendation for sharing of power may have been genuinely Augustan, reflecting a desire for Tiberius to share power with Germanicus, and perhaps Drusus, in the same way Augustus had with Tiberius.Footnote ⁶⁴ Tiberius certainly seems to have believed in the sentiment that the empire should not be entrusted to one man (or perhaps even one family), pronouncing to the masses who lamented the death of Germanicus that rulers were mortal, but the republic was eternal (principes mortales, rem publicam aeternam, Tac. Ann. 3.6.3). Mallan notes that in 27 bc, even though Augustus had taken control of the militarized provinces, which were to be governed by his appointed legates, he left the rest to be governed by former magistrates and designated Rome and parts of Italy as under jurisdiction of the urban prefect. “If this is correct, then Tiberius’ plan of ad 14 may have been simply a reiteration of Augustus’ plan of 27 bc, designed to maintain the status quo” (Reference Mallan2020: 109). Unfortunately, the Senate did not understand what either Augustus or Tiberius intended.Footnote ⁶⁵

Although Dio attributes the suggestion of shared power to mandates left by Augustus, he makes no mention of that mandate when Tiberius subsequently proposes such a division (57.2.4). Tacitus’ version of the senatorial debates omits any mention that Augustus had suggested the division of powers. Once Tiberius had ensured the deification of Augustus, the Senate pleaded with him to clarify his own position:

Woodman analyzes the two most likely interpretations by members of the Senate. Either “he was proposing a variation on the arrangement which obtained under Augustus” (Reference Woodman1998: 48) or Tiberius was suggesting a complete withdrawal from power. If, as Tacitus implies, Tiberius’ speech left open the possibility of his immediate retirement from politics, it is understandable that the Senate completely panicked. Even if this was not Tiberius’ intention, his suggestion left the senators in an awkward position. Those, like Asinius Gallus, who questioned the nature of the proposal merely provoked Tiberius’ exasperation.Footnote ⁶⁶ Gallus attempted to save face with an argument that he was trying to get Tiberius to admit the empire could not be divided. Even more tellingly, Gallus immediately followed this assertion by praising Augustus (addidit laudem de Augusto) and highlighting Tiberius’ service under his predecessor (Tac. Ann. 1.12.3). While Tiberius advertised his insecurity at taking up the burden that Augustus had once shouldered, his peers in the Senate recognized the charismatic power inherited by Tiberius as Augustus’ designated successor.

This assumes that Tiberius was genuinely trying to renegotiate the position of princeps. However, the other most common explanation, that mentioned above as being championed by Flaig (Reference Flaig and Reinhard2007), is that Tiberius was engaging in a “ritual of consensus.” Such an argument is supported by Velleius’ account. Velleius, who would likely have been present at the debate as a candidatus Caesaris for the praetorship, glosses over all the details. Instead, he focuses on the danger had Tiberius refused to step into the position intended for him by Augustus. The maiestas of Tiberius was critical to preserving peace (2.124.1). While Tacitus and Dio may have had the hindsight of multiple transfers of power, some peaceful, others not, Velleius was witnessing the first transition in what would later be known as the principate.Footnote ⁶⁷ He makes no mention of any division of powers, although he does highlight in the subsequent narrative the roles played by Germanicus, Drusus, and Sejanus as adiutores.Footnote ⁶⁸

Ultimately, Velleius (2.124.2) paints a picture of a reluctant Tiberius being forced to accept power:

Tacitus also indicates that Tiberius did not so much accept the principate as cease to refuse it (Ann. 1.13.5). Chronologically and ideologically, Velleius and Tacitus represent very different historiographical perspectives on Tiberius. But both agree that the primary result of the senatorial debates, whatever the intention of Tiberius, was the acknowledgement that Tiberius now held the position vacated by Augustus.

Tacitus criticizes Tiberius for hesitating before the Senate when he had already given commands to the army, stating that he was leaving room for the distinction that he seemed to have been called and chosen by the state rather than to have crept in through his mother’s manipulation of the elderly Augustus: dabat et famae, ut vocatus electusque potius a re publica videretur quam per uxorium ambitum et senili adoptione inrepsisse (Ann. 1.7.7). While Tacitus qualifies the participles vocatus and electus with ut, “Tiberius’ desire to appear called to office in his own right not only may have been the correct one, but also may have been the official explanation for his delay” (Sage Reference Sage1982/3: 314; his italics). Like Augustus, Tiberius had been granted extraordinary power by virtue of his relationship to a charismatic adoptive father. And like Augustus, Tiberius felt the need to secure those powers by appearing to refuse them, only to have them confirmed by the Senate. Tiberius was forced to accept a power which he hoped one day to set aside, as Augustus had supposedly wished as well (Sen. Brev. 10.4.2).

Conclusions

Although Max Weber did not analyze the career of Augustus and the origins of the Roman principate in great detail, he did provide a framework for understanding the position of princeps. Despite arguments to the contrary, Augustus was a charismatic ruler. He capitalized on the chaos of the civil wars and secured sole power through military means. He then used religious, social, and legal imagery to consolidate his power through a period of over forty years. His auctoritas was a manifestation of his charisma. Both his personal charisma and his political auctoritas allowed him to create not only a new conception of the res publica but also a new dynasty. The true test of revolutionary change is the transfer of the charismatic power that created it. Tiberius’ lack of personal charisma proved key in the routinization of the statio of Augustus into the legal structure of the principate. In his negotiations with the Senate, regardless of his intent, he secured permanently the position of one man as primus inter pares or princeps. His obligation to preserve the system created by Augustus ultimately led him to rely heavily upon the charismatic image of his predecessor. As we shall see, this both preserved the principate as a new form of government and created problems for the second princeps, who struggled to live up to the idealized image of Divus Augustus that he himself had been so instrumental in creating.