In his treatise On Duties, Cicero explains the reasons for the catastrophic self-laceration of republican Rome as follows (Off. 1.26):
Maxime autem adducuntur plerique ut eos iustitiae capiat oblivio cum in imperiorum honorum gloriae cupiditatem inciderunt. Quod enim est apud Ennium: ‘nulla sancta societas nec fides regni est’, id latius patet. Nam quidquid eius modi est in quo non possint plures excellere, in eo fit plerumque tanta contentio ut difficillimum sit servare ‘sanctam societatem’. Declaravit id modo temeritas C. Caesaris, qui omnia iura divina et humana pervertit propter eum quem sibi ipse opinionis errore finxerat principatum. Est autem in hoc genere molestum, quod in maximis animis splendidissimisque ingeniis plerumque existunt honoris imperii potentiae gloriae cupiditates.
[Above all, however, most are brought to the point of becoming oblivious to the demands of justice when they lapse into desire for military commands, political offices, and glory. Ennius’ words ‘No inviolate community nor trust exists under kingship’ have a wider application. Any aspect, in which it is impossible for many to be pre-eminent, tends to generate such competition that it becomes exceedingly difficult to preserve an ‘inviolate community’. The rashness of Gaius Caesar has demonstrated this recently: he overthrew all divine and human laws on account of the single rule that he had imagined for himself out of an erroneous belief. What irritates in this scenario is the fact that often the desires for public office, military command, raw power, and glory exist in the greatest souls and the most outstanding talents.]
Cicero’s argument here unfolds against the backdrop of Rome’s political culture, which he evokes at both the beginning and the end of the passage: imperia (military commands) and honores (public offices) are the two principal means of attracting praise (laus) and acquiring renown (gloria), a core ambition of Rome’s ruling elite. Yet, shockingly, he presents these desirables and their pursuit as fostering civil strife (cf. tanta contentio), the rise of a single ruler (principatus), and the perversion of anything that is right and just. In effect, Cicero here questions nothing less than the basic principles of Roman republican culture, defined as it was by competition among members of the elite for magistracies, military commands, and battlefield glory: in his view, this desire for political success and public recognition of excellence undermines the bonds that hold civic communities together once it becomes oblivious to the demands of justice. Proceeding from the general to the specific, he first introduces the spectre of kingship or tyranny by means of a quotation from Ennius, before invoking recent Roman history and the breakdown of the libera res publica through Caesar’s bloody usurpation of power. In his passionate, yet utterly misguided pursuit of single rule he rashly overturned all divine and human laws; his despotism thereby emerges as irreconcilably at variance with, indeed destructive of, the basic qualities that unite and animate a commonwealth: sancta societas and fides.
According to Cicero, then, the ultimate root of the evils affecting Roman politics are the wrongheaded priorities, mistaken beliefs in what is desirable, and blatant ignorance of what truly matters (cf. opinione erroris ~ erroneous belief) that affect and poison the conduct of his senatorial peers, who dedicate themselves to the pursuit of misguided glory. The (rhetorical) distinction between gloria as conventionally, but — so Cicero argues — wrongly, conceived and ‘true glory’ (vera gloria, vera laus) enables him to invalidate the cultural certainties that his fellow citizens lived (and died) by. He gave the matter sustained discussion in several of his philosophical writings, including the Tusculan Disputations, the de Officiis, and, presumably, the lost de Gloria.94 It figures prominently in the speech on behalf of Marcellus — a piece of epideictic rhetoric that gives thanks to Caesar in person for pardoning Marcellus, one of his most inveterate enemies, a [blatantly un-civic] act which Cicero hails as ‘truly’ much more glorious than any of Caesar’s [really laudable] military victories. And it is a constant presence in the Philippics, from the first oration onwards. Addressing Antony’s colleague in the consulship Dolabella towards the end of the speech, he is willing to grant the consular duo, nobiles homines that they are and motivated by great aspirations, that they do not aim (as some wrongly suppose) ‘for wealth obtained by violence and power unendurable by the Roman people’ (opes violentas et populo Romano minime ferendam potentiam); rather, they genuinely desire the affection of their fellow-citizens and glory (caritatem civium et gloriam) (1.29). He then proceeds to (re-)define gloria as follows (1.29):95
Est autem gloria laus recte factorum magnorumque in rem publicam meritorum, quae cum optimi cuiusque, tum etiam multitudinis testimonio comprobatur.
[Glory, moreover, consists in the public acclaim derived from honorable deeds and great services benefiting the commonwealth, approved by the testimony of the best and also by that of the multitude.]
This definition of gloria, which places the emphasis squarely on civic ethics rather than martial prowess in insisting that deeds only result in renown (gloria) if they meet moral criteria (cf. recte factorum), benefit the commonwealth, and find the approval of the elite and the people at large, is strikingly unorthodox. Unfortunately, Antony, says Cicero, only has a dim understanding of what true glory entails: he acquired some when he abolished the office of dictator, but then squandered it all in his ignorance (Phil. 1.33):
Num te, cum haec pro salute rei publicae tanta gessisses, fortunae tuae, num amplitudinis, num claritatis, num gloriae paenitebat? unde igitur subito tanta ista mutatio? … illud magis vereor, ne, ignorans verum iter gloriae, gloriosum putes plus te unum posse quam omnes et metui a civibus tuis quam diligi malis. quod si ita putas, totam ignoras viam gloriae. carum esse civem, bene de re publica mereri, laudari, coli, diligi gloriosum est; metui vero et in odio esse invidiosum, detestabile, imbecillum, caducum.
[Did you, after these great achievements for the welfare of the commonwealth, regret your fortune, your distinction, your renown, your glory? Why, then, did you experience such a sudden and significant change of heart? … What I more fear is that, blind to the true path of glory, you may think it glorious to possess in your single self more power than all, and to be feared by your fellow-citizens. If you think so, you are totally ignorant of the true way to glory. To be a citizen dear to all, to deserve well of the commonwealth, to be praised, courted, loved, is glorious; but to be feared and an object of hatred is invidious, detestable, a proof of weakness and decay.]
In contrast, the assassins know what true glory consists in (Phil. 2.5, 33, 86, 114, 117) — as does Caesar Octavianus, unlike his adoptive father (Phil. 5.49). Cicero closes rank against Antony around the notion of two variants of glory — genuine renown (such as that enjoyed by the liberators) that thrives in a functioning commonwealth and its perverse counterfeit pursued by Caesar and now Antony, which is based on a confusion of power and glory.