Picture this: it’s the Ides of March, 44 BC, and our beloved Julius Caesar is striding confidently into the Senate. Senators are gathered, not with daggers as we remember from history, but with smartphones at the ready to tweet about their #IdesOfMarchDay. Alas, in this brave new world of tweets and retweets, we explore, with much mirth and anachronistic levity, how @CaesarTheGreat’s digital journey could change the course of history, or merely fill it with colourful emojis.
Veni, Vidi, Vici... and I Tweeted
Before smartphones, Julius Caesar was known for his swift military victories and his knack for chronicling them with concise Latin flair. Now imagine Caesar with Twitter fingers, hammering out pithy missives in real-time. "@CaesarTheGreat: Just crossed the Rubicon. Caution: Major traffic jam behind me. #ToRomeOrBust". His followers, a mixture of plebeians, aristocrats, and ambitious gladiators, would eagerly await such soundbites, places where history met hyperbole.
In the digital realm, Caesar wouldn't have to rely solely on scribes to record his deeds. Instead, he could share victories and orations, one tweet at a time. "@CaesarTheGreat: Landed in Egypt today. Met Cleopatra. She says I’ve got a great profile! #SwipeRight #QueenOfTheNile". These updates would not only inform his citizens but create a bond with the modern-day audience, each tweet woven with strategic foresight and a spot of humour.
Diplomacy or Drama?
If Caesar had social media at his disposal, diplomacy with foreign leaders wouldn’t have been confined to stretched parchment and plumed quills. Gone are the days when a messenger could take weeks to deliver a declaration of war. Instead, such serious matters might be handled with the nuance of an influencer deciding their next video thumbnail.
Imagine Caesar’s boiling rivalry with Pompey played out over Twitter. "@CaesarTheGreat: MCR ruling the world, POM losing his cool. #RomeRules #TogaNotSorry". Pompey, not to be outdone, may have fired back with clever retorts and gifs involving cats, because who can resist a cat video?
#AssassinationSafety
Let us whimsically entertain the notion that Caesar’s fateful encounter with an assembly of envious senators might have been thwarted through a fortuitous scroll through Twitter. Brutus’s account might contain obscure tweets that were all too revealing: "@BrutusFriendSideButNotReally: Planning a get-together with the crew. Just some stabs in the dark. #NoBigDeal".
If only Caesar spotted the coded messages and rising number of trending #EtTuBrute hashtags! Forewarned by his digital oracle, perhaps the assassination would have been circumvented, and Julius would be posting from brunch instead, musing over too many eggs benedict with his usual retinue of loyalists. "@CaesarTheGreat: Sometimes the Ides of March just remind you to avoid the Senate for brunch. Too stabby this time of year!"
Spreading the Senate News
As Caesar’s narratives filled the digital forums of old Rome, inevitably, the platform that gave him strength would be his undoing. Political rivals could sway public sentiment as easily as trolls troll. Satirical accounts would spring up overnight, feeding the appetites of Rome’s gossip mongers, and scrutiny of the state would oscillate between profound discourse and outrageous memes.
"@SatiricalSenator: Who needs a Caesar Salad when you have a Salad Caesar? Avoid dressing too liberally, you'll end up in Greece! #SossBallad". As Rome’s luminaries took to the grand amphitheatres of social platforms, Caesar would find that the sword might not be as mighty as the GIF.
A Sceptre Made of Tweets
In this imagined world of diabolical hashtags and digital autocracies, Caesar succeeds in unifying the Roman Forum with a smartphone in hand, embracing the moving tide of public sentiment in a way Marc Antony never imagined. Yet, while technology might alter the modes of communication and the scope of influence, one wonders if it could alter humanity’s truly epic tragedies of ambition, betrayal, and the undying quest for power. "@CaesarTheGreat: Rome wasn’t built in a day, but tweets are.
Indeed, under obligation of no death warrant arriving by swift carrier pigeon, we conclude that Caesar on Twitter would have plunged not just a dagger, but a whole new dimension into history, one filled with HEV (historical engagement value) and LOL (laugh out Latin) effectiveness. A fitting paradox for Rome’s digital demigod.
