In April 46 BC, 1,974 years ago, Cato the Younger died. In one sense, you might say he died willingly, as he chose death by his own hand rather than life under the tyranny of Julius Caesar. But no one who ever met Cato, nor anyone who reads of his death, should see anything resigned in the man.
When Cato grabbed his sword and said, “Now I am my own master,” then plunged it into his chest, that should have been the end of any debate. Reeling from the blow, Cato fell from the bench he had been leaning on. The wound should have been mortal, but even Roman steel could not kill Rome’s Iron Man. Instead, Cato passed out and was soon discovered by his sons, who rushed in a doctor to save him. As they finished stitching him up, Cato awoke and began to tear the wound apart. That would be how he died: literally disemboweling himself with his own hands.
The point of this story is not to glorify suicide, not at all. In fact, Cato’s story shows a man who clung to life with almost superhuman tenacity. Cato had always fought for life, and especially so in death. For him, the choice he faced was between living as Caesar’s slave—and propaganda tool—or dying as his own man. In a way, it was not really a choice at all. He refused to betray the Republic for which he had lived, even if that meant the loss of his life, though he fought like hell for years before it came to this.
Indeed, in his old age Cato embodied those beautiful lines in the Dylan Thomas poem: He did not go quietly into that good night. He raged, raged against the dying of the light. When Caesar wanted him to roll over, he would not be moved. When death first arrived to claim him, he would not simply follow. No, Cato was such a fighter—had such life force—that even suicide could not take him on the first try.
Death wins over all of us, that is inevitable. Dylan Thomas knew that. He just thought we should fight hard, as Cato did, while we still can. Or as Plutarch said of Cato: even if we can’t beat fate, we can “nevertheless give Fortune a hard contest.”
P.S. This was originally sent on April 22, 2020. Sign up today for the Daily Stoic’s email and get our popular free 7-day course on Stoicism.
