The Historical Backdrop: Rome in Crisis

The 1st century BCE represented one of the most turbulent periods in Roman history, marked by civil wars, political instability, and the gradual erosion of republican institutions. The assassination of Julius Caesar in 44 BCE created a power vacuum that would eventually be filled by his adopted heir Octavian and former lieutenant Mark Antony. Their uneasy alliance, known as the Second Triumvirate, temporarily stabilized the political landscape but contained the seeds of future conflict.

Into this volatile environment stepped Cleopatra VII, the last active ruler of the Ptolemaic Kingdom of Egypt. Far from the simplistic seductress of popular imagination, Cleopatra was a highly educated polyglot who spoke nine languages and ruled over the wealthiest kingdom in the Mediterranean. Her strategic alliances with Roman leaders—first Julius Caesar, then Mark Antony—represented both political pragmatism and genuine ambition to preserve Egyptian sovereignty against Roman expansion.

The relationship between Antony and Cleopatra proved particularly controversial in Rome. Their public displays of mutual affection and political partnership challenged Roman sensibilities about proper relationships between Roman commanders and foreign monarchs. Antony’s increasing identification with Eastern customs and his apparent prioritization of Egyptian interests created growing alarm among the Roman elite, who viewed his behavior as a betrayal of Roman values.

The Gathering Storm: From Political Tension to Open Conflict

The breakdown of relations between Octavian and Antony occurred gradually but inevitably. Octavian skillfully exploited Roman prejudices against Eastern influences, portraying Antony as having fallen under the spell of an exotic queen who threatened traditional Roman values. The propaganda war reached its peak when Octavian obtained Antony’s will, which allegedly revealed his intentions to bequeath Roman territories to Cleopatra and their children.

In 32 BCE, Octavian convinced the Roman Senate to declare war specifically against Cleopatra rather than Antony, framing the conflict as a defense of Roman tradition against foreign aggression. This clever political maneuver allowed Octavian to characterize the impending military confrontation not as another civil war between Romans but as a patriotic struggle against an external threat.

The two forces finally met at Actium in western Greece in September of 31 BCE. The naval battle, though not particularly decisive in military terms, proved catastrophic for Antony and Cleopatra’s cause. Their fleet suffered significant losses, and what remained of their forces retreated to Egypt. The psychological impact of Actium cannot be overstated—it demonstrated Octavian’s military competence and shattered the aura of invincibility surrounding Antony.

The Poet’s Voice: Horace and the Celebration of Victory

It was in this context that Quintus Horatius Flaccus, known to English readers as Horace, composed his famous Ode 1.37. As one of Rome’s greatest lyric poets and a client of Octavian’s cultural minister Maecenas, Horace occupied a unique position to interpret and celebrate the new regime’s achievements. His poem, beginning with the triumphant exclamation “Nunc est bibendum!” , captures the euphoric Roman response to Cleopatra’s death.

Horace’s ode operates on multiple levels. Superficially, it is a drinking song celebrating deliverance from danger. More profoundly, it serves as a sophisticated piece of political propaganda that transforms military victory into cultural and moral triumph. The poem establishes a series of powerful contrasts: between Roman restraint and Eastern excess, between masculine rationality and feminine emotionality, between civilized Roman values and barbaric foreign threats.

The poet depicts Cleopatra as initially monstrous—a “fatale monstrum” whose ambitions threatened Rome itself. This dehumanization serves a clear political purpose: by portraying Cleopatra as less than human, Horace justifies Roman aggression against her and reinforces the moral superiority of Octavian’s cause. Only in her final moments does Cleopatra regain some humanity through her dignified suicide, which the poet acknowledges as demonstrating her refusal to be paraded as a captive in a Roman triumph.

Cultural Representations: The Construction of the Actium Legend

The Battle of Actium and its aftermath quickly became mythologized in Roman literature and art. Virgil, in his epic masterpiece The Aeneid, dedicates significant attention to representing the conflict on the shield of Aeneas. His depiction emphasizes the religious and cultural dimensions of the struggle, portraying it as a clash between Roman gods and Egyptian animal-headed deities.

Virgil’s account notably minimizes Antony’s role, focusing instead on Cleopatra as the embodiment of Eastern threat. She appears not as a military commander but as a priestess of Isis, rallying exotic foreign troops against Roman order. This representation serves to erase the uncomfortable reality that Actium had been essentially a civil war between Romans, reconstructing it instead as a heroic defense of civilization against barbarism.

Other poets of the period, including Sextus Propertius, contributed to this developing “Actium legend.” Their collective works established a powerful narrative that would influence Western perceptions of Cleopatra for centuries. The Egyptian queen became the archetypal dangerous woman—intelligent, ambitious, and sexually powerful—whose influence could corrupt even the strongest Roman men.

Social and Political Impacts: Reshaping Roman Identity

The defeat of Cleopatra and the annexation of Egypt had profound consequences for Roman society. Octavian, now taking the name Augustus, used the victory to legitimize his transformation of the Roman Republic into an imperial system. The enormous wealth captured from Egypt allowed him to reward his veterans, fund massive building projects, and establish a professional standing army loyal to him personally.

The propaganda campaign against Cleopatra had lasting effects on Roman gender norms and political discourse. The portrayal of Cleopatra as a threat to Roman masculinity reinforced traditional values of marital fidelity and female modesty. Augustus would later implement legislation promoting marriage and childbearing among the elite, partly in response to the perceived moral decay that Cleopatra had come to symbolize.

The victory also solidified Roman identity in opposition to Eastern “otherness.” Roman writers increasingly contrasted Roman virtus . This cultural dichotomy would persist throughout Roman history, influencing everything from fashion to philosophy to religious practice.

Historical Legacy: From Ancient Propaganda to Modern Interpretation

The Roman portrayal of Cleopatra, perfected by Horace and other Augustan poets, dominated Western perceptions for nearly two millennia. Renaissance and Enlightenment writers largely accepted the Roman narrative of the wanton Eastern queen who nearly destroyed Roman civilization. It wasn’t until the 20th century that historians began seriously reexamining the evidence and challenging the biased Roman accounts.

Modern scholarship has increasingly recognized Cleopatra as a skilled politician and diplomat who fought desperately to maintain Egyptian independence against overwhelming Roman power. Her relationships with Caesar and Antony appear less as romantic entanglements than as strategic alliances between political equals. The image of the reckless seductress says more about Roman anxieties regarding powerful women than about historical reality.

The poetry of Horace remains valuable not as accurate history but as insight into how the Augustan regime constructed its legitimacy. His odes represent a masterful manipulation of cultural symbols and emotional appeals that helped transform military victory into lasting political authority. The continued study of these works illuminates the complex relationship between poetry and power in the ancient world.

Contemporary Relevance: Lessons from an Ancient Conflict

The story of Cleopatra and her representation in Roman poetry continues to resonate in modern discussions about propaganda, gender politics, and cultural representation. The Augustan campaign against Cleopatra stands as an early example of how political leaders can manipulate public perception by appealing to cultural prejudices and nationalistic sentiments.

The gendered nature of the attacks on Cleopatra—focusing on her sexuality and emotionality rather than her political decisions—finds echoes in modern political discourse. Female leaders today still face scrutiny of their personal lives and emotional states in ways that their male counterparts typically avoid.

Furthermore, the construction of the “Eastern threat” narrative prefigures modern Orientalist discourses that contrast Western rationality with Eastern irrationality. The enduring power of these dichotomies suggests that the cultural work performed by Horace and his contemporaries continues to influence Western thought patterns more than two millennia later.

The study of this historical moment reminds us that historical narratives are rarely neutral. They are constructed by victors to serve political purposes, and their endurance often depends more on their usefulness to subsequent generations than on their factual accuracy. The complex figure of Cleopatra—simultaneously queen and monster, politician and seductress, victim and agent—continues to challenge us to look beyond simplistic narratives and appreciate the full humanity of historical actors.

In the end, Horace’s triumphant ode captures a pivotal moment when poetry helped shape empire, when words cemented power, and when the death of one queen became the birth legend of imperial Rome. The glasses raised in celebration so long ago still reflect light into our present, reminding us that history is always as much about interpretation as about events.