Benevolent Dictatorship

It seems a growing number of persons in our Great Republic have come to believe it should not be a republic.  They think it may continue to be great, of course, unless they're one of those who believe it isn't great currently, but may be again, once it is no longer a republic.  

Those who think this way apparently favor a form of government more in line with autocracy or dictatorship.  They're certainly not the first to do so.  The belief that there has been or may be such a thing as a benign despot, or benevolent dictator, has a long history in our long, and sad, history.

It's an attractive belief.  We imagine someone holding near absolute or absolute power who would do the thinking for us, act in our interest, for our benefit, dispense what we think is justice, create and maintain prosperity, allow us to do what we think we should be able to do, all without hinderance from opponents or onerous regulations and requirements.  But has there ever been such a ruler, or could there be one?

Pictured above is one person who was considered a benevolent dictator, Lucius Ouinctius Cincinnatus.  He was quite literally a dictator as that was a position one could be appointed to by the Roman Senate.  The Roman dictator had unlimited authority, or imperium, but only for a specified period of time (usually 6 months).  A dictator was appointed in times of emergency.  Cincinnatus held the position twice.  When his term was up, he returned to private life.  In accordance with his legend, he's shown plowing his fields when representatives of the Senate arrive to tell him of his appointment. 

He's a model of the disinterested figure who takes up sole power solely for the benefit of the state and its citizens, and gives it up when his service to the state is done.  George Washington enjoyed being compared with him.

Later dictators weren't necessarily as popularly remembered.  Lucius Cornelius Sulla in particular is remembered as a man who brought his legions into Rome in violation of tradition, during the conflict between him and Gaius Marius, and essentially through force of arms remained dictator as long as he pleased.  During his dictatorship he proscribed all those he considered his enemies and dangerous to the patricians he favored.  He did give up his powers, though, eventually, and lived a comfortable private life until his death.  

Augustus may actually have been something close to a benevolent dictator after he seized supreme power in Rome, but was ruthless in his quest to obtain it.  The later so-called "good" emperors, Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius, may be called benign at least in comparison to other emperors of Rome.

In more recent history, Frederick the Great was thought of as a benevolent despot but I suspect that was because he was something of a philosopher, learned and cultured, in addition to being a great military leader, and such things played very well in the Age of Enlightenment.  Napoleon was believed to be one as well, at least by some, at least for restoring order and glory to France after the chaos of the French Revolution and the Terror.

Subsequent rulers with great power can't reasonably be considered benevolent, however.  Lenin, Stalin, Mao, Hitler and Mussolini aren't considered benign by most, and for good reason.  It seems they were considered to be benevolent for quite some time, however.

A dictator must be considered disinterested to be benign, I think.  In other words, the ruler's goals and conduct mustn't be selfish, or favor friends and relatives, or supporters, primarily if not solely.  Likewise, enemies should be punished based on the extent the state is harmed by them.  Although great or absolute power may be exercised, it must be in the service of the state or its citizens.  Otherwise, a ruler is merely self-serving.

But what one considers a benign dictatorship is subjective, now, entirely.  And calls made for it are, sometimes blatantly, dishonest,  Those seeking power for themselves or others do lip service to justice and impartiality and patriotship, but do so in such an inane manner as to bring their credibility in question.  Just listen, and hear.

Lenin, Stalin, Mao, Hitler and Mussolini considered liberal democracy to be a weak and ineffective form of government, too inclined to consider elements they and those like them thought to be foreign or contemptible.  Those who now dream of an autocracy replacing the democratic type of government here think much the same, judging from their comments.  They imagine absolute power applied in their favor and against others.  There's nothing benign about an autocracy which is intolerant and exclusive.  

If there is such a things as a benevolent dictatorship, that's not what's being sought or desired, here and now, and no amount of fear-mongering or misrepresentation can hide that fact.  What's being sought is a government by certain people, for certain people and of certain people.

O Bella Roma

Relatively fresh from a visit to Italy, specifically those cities which seem to be most visited by tourists like myself (Rome, Florence and Venice), I'm inclined to expound on them here--that place where I am emperor, of ice cream (or gelato?) if anything at all.

As may be guessed from my nom de blog and a review of this blog itself, I'm fascinated by the history of ancient Rome.  At long last, I've personally seen many of its ruins.  Edward Gibbon on viewing the Roman Forum was inclined to bemoan its condition, and this he wrote motivated his history of Rome's decline and fall.  It seems in much better shape now than it was when he viewed it, but in viewing it myself I'm inclined to marvel at its ruins.  Perhaps I entirely lack any Romantic instincts, but I'm too impressed by the remains of ancient Rome to indulge in pontifications along the lines of sic transit gloria mundi.

The ruins of the Forum including the rostra and the Curia, the arches of Titus, Septimius Severus and Constantine, Trajan's Market, his column, his forum; those of Augustus and Nerva, the Ars Pacis Augustae, the mausoleum of Augustus, the baths of Caracalla and Diocletian, the Flavian Amphitheater a/k/a the Colosseum, the tomb of Hadrian, the column of Marcus Aurelius and his equestrian statue, represent only the most evident architectural monuments of Rome and its empire, and they're stunning to one such as me.

It's difficult to imagine how impressive they were thousands of years ago.  Henry James, I know, found Roman ruins (or at least some of them) indicative of a kind of brutality and baseness.  They were just too big for Henry.  I wonder, though, whether his attitude and those of others with similar views is more an implied acknowledgement of how small we and our civilization became after Rome fell.  It's easy in a way to resent the Romans as it took us centuries to achieve what they achieved even in matters of plumbing and hygiene, in the building of roads, the supplying of water to cities, let alone the fine arts.

One thing I find disturbing was the tendency of the popes who restored certain of the ruins to emblazon their names on them.  I suppose the desire was that they be granted a kind of immortality by association with monuments which represented ancient glory and would clearly last far into the future.  Restoration by Christians seems entirely appropriate in any case, however, as various Christians after the fall of the empire regularly took stones and marble from the ruins of Rome to adorn their buildings.

Even more disturbing are the figures of popes and saints which were plopped on top of the columns of Trajan and Marcus Aurelius.  As those columns depict scenes of the conquests and campaigns of those emperors, it's unclear why any pope or saint would be glorified by appearing at the summit of such military monuments.  Churches, of course, were regularly placed on top of pagan temples.  There's something profane about the imposition of Christian icons on and over these pagan relics; something profane about the physical triumph of the Christian sacred.  But who remembers those popes, compared to those who know the names of the emperors who lived centuries earlier?

It can't be doubted that brutality and cruelty were aspects of Roman civilization.  But walking along the Sacred Way, where emperors and generals rode in triumphs and religious processions took place, where Cicero, Cato and Caesar walked, one senses that much more was involved, good and bad, and that what we are now is in large part mere imitation or emulation.  And not merely that of "skirt-mad Mussolini" as Robert Lowell called him, unfurling the eagle of Caesar.

Rome remains a world capitol; a crowded, busy city apart from but existing in and around the imposing corpse of the Roman Empire and of course around the center of what may be called its ghost, the Roman Catholic Church, a sovereign state in its own right thanks to the Lateran Treaty (and Mussolini, it must be said).  But it's still served by the aqueducts which continue to bring potable water to its inhabitants.  Ancient Rome is a living presence in a living city.  It's filled not merely with monuments to the past or recalling the past, but with the past itself.  Rome's past is present.

No Bread, No Circuses

The history of the Roman games (ludi) makes a fascinating study.  We're all too ready to draw comparisons with imperial Rome, which still haunts us after all these years, perhaps with good reason (the haunting I mean, not the comparing).  But they're fascinating in themselves, and don't serve merely as an expositive device on which to pontificate regarding the ills of our time.

It is the growth of the games that is astounding.  Not merely the growth in their scope and their expansion to all provinces, but in their number.  Initially a part of religious festivals, they became the means by which the people of the empire were placated, or at least kept relatively calm and complacent, even compliant.  There came a point when most of the year was made up of days devoted to the holding of games of one kind or another, for one reason or another, and this does not even account for the special games put on by the emperors in connection with triumphs or in honor of various favorites and family members.

The games became more and more frequent, and also more and more expensive.  Those arranging the games, senators, nobles, even emperors, regularly went into debt in doing so.  But it would have been unheard of for anyone to decline what became a duty as well as necessary if one was to obtain a high place or a desired end.  The games were an essential facet of politics and government.

Juvenal came up with the phrase that is the basis for the title of this post:  panem et circenses.  He was complaining (that's all he did, really) that in his time all the people of Rome cared for was bread and circuses, unlike their ancestors who were full of civic duty. That was all the people expected from the state, according to Juvenal, and he may well have been right.
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It's fair to be skeptical of the claims made by Juvenal and others (e.g. Tacitus and Suetonius) regarding the depravity of the Roman people and nobles, and of their emperors.  We're not certain when Juvenal was born or died, but it seems he lived during the time of the Flavian emperors, and perhaps even into the reign of Trajan.  It may not be the case that great hordes of gladiators, animals and criminals were killed on a daily basis in the arenas, or that the emperors took a personal delight in the wholesale slaughter they sponsored.  One can easily believe most anything said about Caligula, but this becomes problematic with the "good" emperors like Augustus, Vespasian, Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian.  Marcus Aurelius is said to have deplored them, but he attended them nonetheless; he was expected to do so.  He is known to have annoyed the crowd by attending to the business of the state while at the games.  Surprisingly, it seems Domitian tried to curb the excesses of the games.

Nonetheless, the games can be said to have been characteristic of Rome, and their ubiquity and frequency establish their importance to Roman society and culture.  It's likely that all but a few enjoyed the games.  As the emperors were judged in part by their willingness to openly appear at the games and openly enjoy them, it may be that the games served in a peculiar way as a kind of bond between the emperor and the people.

Now, shall I do what I tend to deplore myself, and refer dolefully to the bread and circuses of our time?  It may surprise some to learn that I think we have nothing like them now.  It may be that we're simply not there yet.  Our politics are certainly money-based, and it is becoming more and more expensive to run for and obtain office.  Naturally, our politicians inevitably become more and more reliant on and beholden to those who have the money to give them. 

However, our politicians don't seem inclined to spend much money on the people, at least for the purpose of feeding them or amusing them, and are in this sense different from the politicians of ancient Rome.  They are, though, quite willing to spend money to persuade them, even to fool them, as the politicians of Rome certainly did--but the politicians of today need not do so by feeding them or amusing them.  That is no longer necessary.  For now, in any case.

The avidity of the masters of ancient Rome to spend great sums in feeding the people and holding games for their entertainment indicates not merely that they were manipulative.  It also indicates that they respected and feared the people.  They were the mob, and it was always possible that they would become angry and violent.  The games were in a sense an expression of the power of the people.  The people were a force to be reckoned with, even in an autocracy.  The emperor controlled the legions, true, but only those who ranked above centurions could be considered the aristocracy of the empire; the rest were its subjects, like those attending the games.  They could be relied on only to a certain extent.  The legions came to name their own emperors and revolt when they saw fit; they were to be feared as well, and shrewd emperors took pains to keep them happy as well as the people.

It is an interesting thought that the politicians of our time may not fear us as the politicians and rulers of ancient Rome feared their people.  I refer to the politicians and rulers of the United States.  We haven't demonstrated the capacity for fury and violence the people of the Roman Empire were known to display every now and then; perhaps because we're not as bad off as they were.  No doubt this is a good thing, but it may be that the trade off for this is a certain disregard in those who govern us, and those who govern them through money.  They need not concern themselves overmuch with seeing to it we are fed and distracted, or do so only sporadically, at election time.  Of course, we don't look to our government to entertain us as the Romans did, though there is much amusement to be found in the antics of our politicians.  We have other things to distract us.

As noted, we constantly compare ourselves to ancient Rome.  As far as I am aware, however, we have not done so to note the care taken by the great of that time to keep the people happy, amused and content.  There may be a lesson to be learned in this for the high and mighty, as the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.

Hesitant Homage to Hadrian

Publius Aelius Hadrianus Augustus is generally considered to be one of the "Five Good Emperors" along with Nerva, Trajan, Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius, who governed the Roman Empire for a good chunk of the Second Century CE or AD, which ever you may prefer--with some effort I could come up with the appropriate years A.U.C., ab urbe condita, from the legendary founding of Rome, but I am tired. 

I'm uncertain why Nerva appears among the Fantastic Five.  His reign was very short, though not as short as those of the unfortunates who succeeded Nero before Vespasian.  I suppose it may be he does because he had so little time and did so little harm, or had the wisdom to accept Trajan as a successor.  Others may be uncertain why Hadrian has the place he does.

Some of those others are likely to be Jews.  It was during Hadrian's reign that the second great Jewish revolt against Rome took place, and it was an even fiercer affair than the first, lasting about three years.  Under Bar Kokhba the Jews had considerable success, at first.  Success against Rome "at first" was not all that unusual during the time of its greatness; consider Hannibal's many successes.  But Rome, once thwarted, was relentless, ruthless and efficient in retribution, and Hadrian's legions eventually nearly exterminated the Jewish people.  It's thought by some that Hadrian brought the revolt about because he sided so much with the Greeks in their several disputes with the Jews throughout the Empire and because for reasons not entirely clear to me at least he insisted on imposing a Greco-Roman city on Jerusalem, Aelia Capitolina.  This colony was placed more or less over the site of the Jews' ancient Temple, which had been conveniently razed by the Romans in the first revolt.  It's difficult to imagine conduct more likely to enrage the Jewish people.

Hadrian certainly was a great fan of the Greeks and Greek culture, but not quite in the scandalous manner of Nero.  Hadrian didn't pretend to be an actor or a musician, but tried, sometimes, to be a poet.  He would put on Greek dress when in Greece, and was most comfortable when among the Greeks.  And, of course, he was inordinately fond of a particular Greek from Bithynia named Antinous.

The Romans were not as concerned by homosexual relationships as many of us are, though they never seemed to idealize such relationships in the manner of the Greeks; except, perhaps, in the case of the Hellenophile Hadrian.  Antinous died during one of Hadrian's many tours of the Empire, while in Egypt, in the Nile itself, and the circumstances of his death are unclear.  It's been suggested that Hadrian had a hand in the death, or that Antinous killed himself in an effort to secure the health and safety of the aging and increasingly superstitious and death-obsessed emperor.  However, it may simply have been an accident.  What was most remarkable about Antinous was not his death but his worship after his death.

Emperors had been becoming gods on their deaths for some time by then, and in some cases were worshipped as such before their deaths, sometimes in association with the genius or spirit of Rome.  But an emperor's favorite had not been deified for some time, since the reign of Gaius Caligula, who was deemed insane by most who came after him.  Temples to Antinous and statutes of him increased and multiplied throughout the Empire.  It seems some actually took his worship seriously and his worship continued for quite some time.

So why this homage to an emperor who it seems went mad on the death of his lover, like Alexander did on the death of his (or perhaps in imitation of Alexander), and was stupid enough to profane the holiest ground of some of the least cooperative of Rome's many conquered peoples, leading to a great revolt brutally suppressed?

Well, but for the Bar Kokhba revolt, the Empire enjoyed uninterrupted peace during Hadrian's principate.  He wisely withdrew from the territories newly conquered by Trajan which would have been very hard to maintain, and this probably facilitated and extended the pax Romana to the benefit of all inhabitants of the Empire.  He was a multi-talented individual, and in his fashion remarkable as an architect, being responsible for the still-impressive Pantheon, his incredible villa in Tivoli, his wall in Scotland.  He could have taken credit for these achievements in the way typical of emperors and others who caused monuments to be built--by having his name inscribed in the stone--but did not do so.  The name of Marcus Agrippa, who was responsible for the original Pantheon, appears there instead.  He was concerned with all parts of the Empire as his travels showed.  And he assured a safe transfer of power, choosing a solid successor in Antoninus Pius and even assuring that Marcus Aurelius would one day succeed him, thus providing for the rule of two more "Good Emperors."

An unusual and extraordinary man, worthy of respect despite his flaws, in spite of his flaws.