My interest in ancient Rome is by no means unique. It seems that once a man settles into middle age, he's apt to develop an obsessive interest in either Rome or World War II.
I believe there's a literary aspect to this, too. My pet theory is that those who lean towards WWII are sci-fi fans, while those who go for Rome prefer fantasy. This is certainly the case for myself.
Back in college and for many years after, I was a devoted science fiction reader: Phillip K. Dick, Heinlein, Neal Stephenson, Dan Simmons, Asimov. Getting into Dungeons & Dragons may have tilted the scales to the fantasy side, because for the last few years I've been knee deep in Robert Howard, Lovecraft, Glenn Cook, Steven Erikson, Pratchett, Gaiman, Genevieve Cogman, and Susanna Clarke - the last of which is easily one of my favorite writers of all time.
Fortunately, my absolute favorite writer of all, Ursula K. LeGuin, wrote in both genres.
But this isn't a post about any of those writers, just my nerdy-ass literary-historical theory.
The history of Rome, from start to finish, reads like the best kind of fantastical worldbuilding. You have an ancient civilization whose origins are shrouded in myth; that struggled to claw its way out from barbarism, and in the process incurred a permanent stain on their soul, kidnapping women from other tribes just to seed the next generation; then faced off against a major cross-Mediterrannean rival, the Carthaginians, in three intense wars (well, two intense wars and a relentless slaughter); that grew to encompass most of the Mediterranean world until the only enemies they could fight were each other. Then you have a century of civil wars documented by the best historians and poets of the era. Then, instead of utterly imploding, as by rights it should have done, it is reborn as a dictatorship - except the aristocrats are still in denial about it and continue to call it a republic. The empire is ruled by a succession of weirdos, then a handful of competent ones, then lapses into half a century of chaos with emperors being assassinated every other Wednesday. Then the empire splits in half, converts to a new religion, and the western side is obliterated in the late 5th century. The eastern half continues to exist in one form or another for another thousand years before medieval technology finally advances far enough to just blow their walls down.
It's a thrill ride from beginning to end. Some of Rome's most interesting emperors, statesmen, and women, are so fascinating you'd swear they were made up. Granted, not all of their ancient historians can be trusted - the Historia Augusta and Procopius's Secret History are propaganda at best and vindictive at worst - but much of what we do know is supported by other sources, monuments, and various archaeological finds.
There are many reasons I enjoy reading about Rome, and the most delightful aspect of this hobby is that every new book offers another layer to explore. Because Rome was a real society that existed on this real Earth, every facet of their lives can be explored and compared to how we live now. The social mores of Roman society were very different from ours, but how they enjoyed themselves, how they took care of themselves, how they wrote about themselves and defended themselves in court, these look very familiar.
The history of Rome isn't just a collection of kooky emperors, it’s slaves dying in the tin and silver mines of Spain, slaves teaching upper-class Romans Greek and philosophy, slaves driving chariots and becoming the sports stars of the era. Rome is the legionary grunt building engineering marvels overnight. It’s tradesmen and women making fortunes in much the same way we do now. It’s the aqueducts that enabled them to thrive wherever they conquered. It’s how they solved the mundane problems of plumbing and fire safety, and building things that lasted into the present day.
So why am I really rambling about Rome? Because it’s impossible not to read about this stuff and think about what’s going on today.
In 133 BCE, Tiberius Gracchus was elected Tribune of the Plebs. Essentially, this position gave him the power to shut down the Senate with a veto, and to propose legislation. Tiberius noticed that a lot of wealthy Romans were using land (state land, in fact) that could easily be distributed to poorer citizens, particularly veterans. His radical idea was to give these poorer Romans some dignity and the ability to take care of themselves and their family.
The conservative elements of Rome were scandalized by this, and after a lot of political back and forth, Tiberius was murdered.
This is considered the beginning of the end of the Republic, because prior to this point no Roman politicians had been killed for their ideas. I'm simplifying a lot here, but the gist is, the Senate was so stuck in its ways, so wealthy, and so scared of the poor, that they resorted to violence to fix a problem that had been building up in their republic for decades. Now, we can argue whether Tiberius proposed this law out of the goodness of his heart or to win political power, but the issue he campaigned on was very real.
For the next hundred years, senators became increasingly more willing to use violence to achieve their ends. And the rise of Tiberius as a champion of the people led to several successor demagogues, from his brother Gaius (also murdered) to Saturninus (murdered) to Marius (did a lot of murdering), Sulla (big on murder), and then Pompey, Crassus, Caesar, and finally Augustus - who murdered his way to becoming the first emperor.
Here’s my much belabored point: It's weird to be reading about this stuff as a hobby, for fun, and then watch the news and see the factions of the US government utterly incapable of compromise or negotiation. Meanwhile, US citizens are increasingly resorting to violence when it comes to dealing with each other.
The comparison between the United States and Rome is an old chestnut, but that doesn’t make it less cogent. There’s a reason the founders of the country used Rome as inspiration for their government, modeling not just their politics but their architecture on that bedrock of Western Civilization.
Make no mistake, Rome was not an ideal society - the reliance on slavery alone disqualifies it - but compared to the ruthless wilderness it had sprung from, it was majestic. In part, it was Rome's tendency to mythologize its own greatness that led it to self destruct. Things were very good for a very small percentage of the population, and they were the ones with the power. Their unwillingness to adapt to a changing world, along with a changing economy, guaranteed that change would be forced upon them. It cracked the republic right down the middle.
The dignity of an upper-class Roman man was dependent on following mos maiorum, a social code of conduct. This determined how and when he entered politics, and what he did with his time there. As the republic entered its later years, some Romans discovered ways to hack this code to place their desires ahead of the state’s. In a way, Rome was undone by the very values that once made it great.
And today, the United States is obsessed with how to make itself great again, if indeed we were ever all that and a bag of potato chips.
If you want to accomplish anything, from keeping a family together to founding a Mediterranean empire, it’s important to have a shared set of values. Right now, the US fights more about values than anything else. Do we value gun control or do we value safety? Do we value science or do we value money? Do we value public health or the personal choice to be unvaccinated? Do we value a woman's right to choose or do we value ancient, religious precepts?
America is too big to have a shared set of values for all 330 million of its inhabitants, I think we can all agree on that. Or maybe we can’t. Without resorting to violence, what do we do about that?
I wish I could conclude this with some insightful answer, but I’ve got nothing. I do think about it a lot. I worry about it a lot.
We know the ancient Romans worried about the same issues we do, because we still have the things they wrote. Tacitus, a Roman historian, was often critical of the imperial system, but his implicit conclusion seems to be, "Well, yeah, our leaders are occasionally raving lunatics, and the people are scum, but what are ya gonna do? Leave Rome?"