Trump, Suetonius, and the effects of power

Human societies have always questioned the nature of power and its effect on those who wield it. Right now, many are wondering why Donald Trump, however idiotic he may be—and we know he is—has embarked on the adventure of a disastrous war. There are countless partial explanations: pressure from Israel, family business interests… But, as always, it is illuminating to read the classics. In this case, Suetonius and his De vita Caesarum: Lives of the Twelve CaesarsGaius Suetonius Tranquillus (69-126) was head of libraries and archives under Emperor Trajan and personal secretary to his successor, Emperor Hadrian. This gave him access to all private and public documents in Rome. Lives of the Twelve CaesarsFrom Julius Caesar to Domitian, this is a hilarious and seemingly frivolous book, given the profusion of anecdotes and the meticulous detail with which it describes the sexual habits of its protagonists. In fact, well into the 20th century, most translations omitted or masked certain passages. For example, Tiberius's "little fish." These weren't "little fish," but rather children who had to remain underwater while they sucked his genitals. In any case, Suetonius had firsthand information. And he had personally met several of the emperors he portrayed.

Suetonius lived very close to supreme power. Rome remains today the paradigm of the all-powerful empire. And the profusion of sex, cruelty, and violence in Suetonius's book has, as Gore Vidal (1925-2012) observed in his brilliant 1952 essay on "The Twelve Caesars," the clear intention of showing the effect of power on those who wield it. Let's take the example of Tiberius, the one with the "little fish." Before becoming emperor, he was a great general and a wise administrator. His honesty was extreme. When the Senate offered to validate in advance any decision he made as emperor, Tiberius replied: "As long as my mind is sound, you can count on the consistency of my conduct, but I do not want you to set the precedent of endorsing any act of a man, for what would happen if something were to occur that altered that man's character?" Tiberius was right. The politician and historian Tacitus, a contemporary of Suetonius, wrote of his reign: "Despite his vast experience in public affairs, Tiberius was ruined and transformed by the violent influence of absolute power." The suspicious assassination of General Germanicus, a popular hero and Tiberius's own adopted son; the transfer of almost all his powers as emperor to the consul Sejanus and his subsequent execution on charges of conspiracy, accompanied by a massive purge; his growing propensity for cruelty and depravity, all point to a profound paranoia. Suetonius extracts from the archives a phrase from Caligula, considered the most demented of the emperors, which is both lucid and terrifying: "Keep in mind that I can treat anyone exactly as I please." Even considering that what we know of Caligula's biography comes primarily from his enemies, and that it's possible he didn't actually intend to appoint his horse as senator or force his sisters into prostitution, it is certain that he was the first emperor to elevate himself to the status of a god.

In his essay on the book, Gore Vidal argues that, despite the contemporary tendency towards a certain determinism, or to attribute multiple factors to every historical event, it is powerful people (whether idiotic or not) who chart the course of humanity. He cites Claudius as an example, a man of limited intelligence who became emperor purely by chance: "If Claudius hadn't desired some easy conquest that would allow him to celebrate a triumph in Rome, Britain wouldn't have been invaded in 144. If Britain hadn't been colonized… the chain of causality is clear."

Now, a pathologically narcissistic man, who was already a sexual predator long before reaching the White House and who wields the immense power of the United States, has initiated a potentially catastrophic war without clear plans or objectives. Why has he done it? Because he could. Because he wanted a great, easy, quick, and spectacular victory.

Let's not seek easy consolations: things were already like this more than 2,000 years ago, and as we can see, little has changed.