Caesar was no aspiring autocrat seeking to realize the imperial future but a republican political leader whose success was based on a combination of patrician pedigree with a popular persona built on an extraordinary record of military achievement. He was no anti-senatorial, populist revolutionary but followed in the tracks of Roman heroes of the past such as the Scipios. His astonishing success hardened his enemies' determination to stop him, even at the price of forcing a civil war. His assassination on the eve of his departure for a great war of vengeance against Parthia precluded whatever plans for consolidation he may have had, but also propelled the violence of civil war into the next phase of what would become a decisively destructive cycle. If Gruen was correct to emphasize that civil war destroyed the Republic, not its preexisting institutional weaknesses, then human choices, especially those that brought about the Civil War, provide the most satisfactory explanation for the collapse of the Republic.

Caesar’s famous leniency in dealing with his former enemies has frequently in modern times been interpreted as an assertion of lordly mastery, establishing a quasi-monarchic supremacy over the recipients of his pardon that trampled aristocratic, "republican" sensibilities. But as Konstan showed some time ago, "clemency was a virtue," and an unimpeachably republican one at that. The first systematic collection of actual instances of Caesar’s Civil War leniency shows that his enemies rushed to avail themselves of it in great numbers, and never refused it (Cato notwithstanding) when it was actually offered. Nor were its recipients tightly bound to Caesar in chains of reciprocity once they had availed themselves of his pardon: the record of "recidivists" who simply returned to the fight after being pardoned shows that any gratitude they felt lay very lightly on their shoulders. Caesar’s letter to his advisers after Corfinium shows that it was no thinl -veiled blueprint for regnumbut a plausible attempt to prevent the catastrophe of civil war if possible and to minimize bloodshed if not, and in any case, to further restoration of a deeply divided community.

By rejecting the two dominant teleologies that have traditionally shaped Caesar's story (his alleged lifelong pursuit of sole domination, the "inevitability" of the collapse of the Roman Republic), turning a skeptical eye toward Cicero's ideological assumptions which shape our conception of this period and the character of the Republic itself, and embracing the major revelation of the last several decades that the Roman People played an important participatory role in the political life of the Republic, it now becomes possible to construct a substantially new interpretation of the political impact of Julius Caesar.

The crossing of the Rubicon was not the decisive moment it is typically held to be. The Senate had already issued what was in effect a declaration of war, yet Caesar paused after his entry into Italy and initiated discussion of a settlement which even Cicero thought would take effect. Even after Caesar resumed his march it remained unclear until Pompey’s actual embarkation at Brundisium whether there really was a war on.Despite a long scholarly tradition accepting the tendentious claims of Pompey’s side to represent "the Republic," prosopographical analysis shows that the Senate and the Roman nobility who held such authority therein were both deeply divided, while our sources are unanimous that the ordinary citizens of Rome and Italy, including many equites and local officials, were favorable to Caesar, or at least not disposed to cooperate with the Senate's Final Decree. Cicero himself had not tried very hard to join Pompey in his dash to Brundisium, misled (he said) by his belief that a settlement would come about. Even after Pompey's departure from Italy he was far from resolved upon taking his side, not because of innate indecision but the deep ambiguities of the political situation.

Caesar’s tumultuous first consulship in 59 is often regarded as the beginning of the end of the Roman Republic. Yet scholars have been too impressed with Bibulus’s and Cato’s obstructionist tactics, and too ready to concede that they were "correct" from a traditional republican perspective. A common modern perception of the year 59 is that by rejecting Bibulus’s attempted obstruction, Caesar demolished the constitutional constraints on executive and popular power that defined the Republic. But far from representing an established republican constitutional tradition, Bibulus, Cato, and those who followed their lead had pushed the obstructive devices available to them far beyond their customary limits. The notion that Caesar simply imposed his will in the assemblies through violence is also overly simplistic. Nor was the Senate reduced to a "rump" of Caesarian or Pompeian partisans. Caesar’s acta of 59 remained formally valid even while some senators, such as Bibulus himself, continued to try to cast doubt on their legitimacy.

Caesar, a patrician war hero already from his youth, followed the model of the Scipiones in the combination of a patrician pedigree with a "popular" political stance and the pursuit of military glory. Despite his family connection, he was no "Marian" in the strong sense of reviving and refighting the battles of the 80s. By the time of his entry in 63 on the highest stage of politics, he was known as a popularis of a particular sort: one exceptionally skilled at cultivating the support of the Roman People but not a demagogue or even a significant player in the classic popularis proposals for land redistribution, debt relief, or the like. Caesar’s reputation for "largesse" does not seem to have exceeded the norms of his day, or perhaps even what many of his contemporaries considered to be mere necessity. The best evidence suggests that his objective at this time was, as Sallust writes, to obtain "a great command, an army, a new war in which his excellence could shine forth." But that path lay through the Senate. Like many aristocrats Caesar did not shy away from a feud with a powerful figure (Q. Catulus), but that did not put him at odds with the aristocracy as a whole.

Caesar’s famous intervention in the Catilinarian Debate of 63, too often viewed as fundamentally opposed to the Senate's authority, instead illustrates the kind of "patrician republicanism" discernable in his early career. His failed proposal for permanent imprisonment seems to have been intended to avoid the kind of popular backlash against the Senate’s authority that was inevitable if the laws protecting citizens against execution without the People’s authorization against were blatantly violated by that body. His advice was ultimately rejected, but his view of the matter would be vindicated by Cicero’s expulsion in 58. Caesar’s praetorship and successful Spanish command brought further clashes with Cato, whose development of his favored tactic of the filibuster in these years shows that he did not as a rule carry the majority of the Senate, while Caesar’s own pursuit of military glory and cultivation of a "popular" though not aggressively populari persona was consistent with long-standing republican tradition.

Caesar decamped to Gaul to fulfill his high military ambition, but he was far from immune from senatorial interference. A swift series of successes protected his precarious position down to the renewal of his command in 55; thereafter down to his decisive victory at Alesia in 52 he strove despite some memorable disasters to realize his repeated exaggerated claims to have "pacified the whole of Gaul." Final victory at Alesia brought the sustained applause not only of the People but also of the Senate. Caesar had a vital interest in making sure that Roman senators and the Roman People received a flow of positive news about his campaigns in Gaul, but his control over this multifocal network of communication is often greatly overstated. The chief media for this communication were not the Gallic War Commentaries but a dense network of "letters, rumor, reports" bringing a steady flow of news from various sources in the war zone to numerous recipients in Rome. Just as Caesar could not control the flow of information between the Army of Gaul and Italy, he also could not control political events in Rome, as the development of the crisis over his return shows.