Bread and Circuses

Augustus of Prima Porta, 1st c AD.
Rome: Vatican Museums. 

History can act as a mirror, allowing us to see ourselves in the present more clearly. I experienced this firsthand this morning, as I read through the Res Gestae Divi Augusti in preparation for a discussion in my world history classes. 

The Res Gestae is, essentially, the epitaph of Augustus, the first Roman emperor, written to adorn the entrance to his massive mausoleum on the banks of the Tiber River in Rome. The catch is that, unlike most epitaphs, he wrote it himself, using it to shape his image for posterity. Augustus describes himself as a successful general, winning battles at home and abroad, and being awarded triumphs - elaborate military parades often involving the display of captured enemies and loot - in honor of those victories; as a paragon of humility, refusing political offices as often as he held them and possessing "influence" but with "no greater power" than his fellow office-holders; and as overwhelmingly generous, using his private money to construct public buildings, provide land to retired military veterans, put on elaborate entertainments, and simply hand out cash to the Roman lower classes.

Those last two points are what caught my eye this morning. As a modern analogy for such behavior, I considered asking them to imagine if Donald Trump - a modern rich man in an elected office - walked down the streets of New York handing out thousand-dollar checks. Surely this would buy him the loyalty of the American public just as Augustus' handouts did for him. And then it hit me - Trump has done exactly this already. But unlike Augustus, he managed to do it without spending a dime of his own money.

In December, Congress passed the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act of 2017, which Republicans immediately hailed as a major victory for their party and their president. This legislation provided massive tax breaks for American corporations, on the assumption that these windfalls will be reinvested in creating new jobs and better conditions for existing employees. To celebrate its passage (and, presumably, to demonstrate the effectiveness of trickle-down economics), corporations began paying out well-publicized bonuses to their employees. As of today, Americans for Tax Reform (a conservative advocacy group lobbying for lower taxes and less government control) reports 461 companies have given pay raises, bonuses, or other compensation to employees as a direct result of this legislation. These payments have helped win over American workers to the president's side. Since he delivered on his promise of a tax reform beneficial to the average citizen, those who received these benefits are more likely to remain loyal to him.

This loyalty isn't necessarily a bad thing. Why not be loyal to a leader who is looking out for your interests and providing tangible benefits? But there is another side to this coin.

When Augustus offered the Roman plebs cash payouts, he was essentially bribing them to turn a blind eye to his other political activities. Rome's foundation story depicts its citizens throwing off a line of tyrannical kings and establishing a republic in which power would be shared by all its (free, male, property-owning) citizens. Term limits and an elaborate system of checks and balances ensured that no one could gather enough power to turn himself into a king and oppress the Roman people once more. But starting around 27 BC, Augustus was doing exactly that. Victorious in the civil war that erupted after Caesar's murder, Augustus used his wealth and connections to become Rome's supreme patron, holding the reins of power even when he was not officially in office. Augustus effectively turned himself into the king Rome feared, but to be successful, he had to ensure that Romans would look the other way. He did this by buying their loyalty through gifts of food, cash payments, and elaborate entertainments: often referred to as "bread and circuses."

Which brings us back to Donald Trump in 2018. His imitation of Augustus is not limited to tax reform; he has also convinced the Pentagon to plan an elaborate military parade, on par with the gladiatorial games and imperial triumphs Roman emperors used to entertain and distract their citizens. What are we to make of this 21st century example of "bread and circuses?"

As I said to my students, history shows us that these are strategies employed by rulers to gain support despite their shady, back-door dealings. Augustus stole the political voice of Roman patricians while he fed, financed, and entertained the plebs in the capital and provided veterans with land in the provinces. This ensured him the support of the Roman mob and military no matter what his political opponents may have said about him. While the parallels between Augustus and Trump are not necessarily an analogy, it still behooves us to keep our eyes open and ask what, if anything, he is trying to distract us from. (Russia, anyone?)