Right, well, I signally failed to note the Cicero reference that was bandied about before the first presidential debate in the US, here mentioned by the Washington Post:
Matthew Dowd, the Bush-Cheney campaign's chief strategist, said in an interview earlier this month that Kerry "is very formidable, and probably the best debater ever to run for president." "I'm not joking," Dowd added. "I think he's better than Cicero," the ancient Roman orator. "But I think it'll be a very good thing for the American public to see these two men stand side by side. You can't hide who you are."
This, of course, is the converse of the "Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking" trope...[as Vincent Fiore
points out in reference to this story]; cf.
the opening of Plato's Apology...
But now (this just in!) there's also a re-writing of the history of the 2nd Triumvirate with an eye to contemporary politics, called "Marcus Antonius for President." Yes, this sort of thing is now almost a cliche, but this example's elaborate enough to notice. Here's a taste:
After fence-sitting for some time and publicly insulting Octavian, one of the greatest attack-machine propagandists the world will ever know planted himself wholeheartedly in the Octavian camp. The arch-conservative (but with his own speckled life) Cicero (you'll have heard his name tossed around before the Kerry-Bush debate) launched a smear campaign of exaggerations, outright lies, and innuendo about events dating back to Antonius' adolescence (I'm not saying he was, you know, involved in the homosexual lifestyle, but why did he hang around with that fellow who everyone knows was a—well, I shouldn't even mention it. Plus, I heard he threw up in the Senate privy once... a rhetorical device known as Bogus Blathering). Marcus Antonius fought back with good humour—for a while. I leave it to the interested student to research the punishment meted out to Cicero when Octavian literally sold out his Karl Rove. Cicero may have been gone, but the attack machine had been built.
Octavian's hollow attempts to live up to his famous (but one-term, so to speak) dad resulted in a false and furious moralising, but it resonated with the Romans, who fancied themselves the moral authorities of the world, an upright people whose examples of personal responsibility, free trade, and military might made them the apex to which all other nations must aspire. Octavian's own indiscretions either did not play well as propaganda, or were not exploited vehemently by the Antonius spin-team, or the record of them has been so thoroughly erased we are missing some of the counterattack. Today we find scattered remnants of Antonius' campaign of ideas against the opposition's campaign of prejudice and fear. Evidence remains in scanty contemporary accounts, but many of the surviving pieces of Antonius' campaign show pro-Antonius argument rather than anti-Octavian attack. The rest, and Marcus Antonius' books, were banned, and burned.