Peter Jones

So the Bruvvers have chosen the younger Bruvver, Ed, and Big Bruvver has chosen to keep his powder dry and leave him to it. So, probably, would any ambitious Roman — for the time being. Romans philosophers might have recommended getting out of government entirely and become an Epicurean, seeking ataraxia — the absence of physical and mental pain. The key lay in avoiding a desire for anything that might cause anxiety, especially anything that had no limits, like wealth, status or power, because these could never be satisfied. Alternatively, Roman Stoics would have suggested, in Seneca’s words, that he ‘deal with his own ills, sift himself, see for how many vain things he is a candidate — and vote for none of them.

It is not so much Hawking’s squawkings about God and science that are the problem — though one wished he did not appear to think that either phenomenon told one anything significant about the other — but rather the failure of our education system to engage with the ancient Greeks. The first Greek philosophers like Thales (c. 580 bc) were really physicists, trying to describe, organise and explain the universe and all its contents. They gave accounts of natural phenomena like stars, planets, weather, plants, animals and man, and asked questions about whether and how the universe began, what it was made of, why it changed and so on. Thales apparently took the view that water was the first principle, from which everything sprang and to which it returned.

Thought-crimes mainly refer to what we all think about those stupid laws and bossy official directives only designed for your benefit, sir. Romans did not face these but rather what George Orwell in 1984 understood by thought-crime: wholly innocent activities interpreted as threats to state security. The historian Tacitus is full of them. When one of Rome’s best-loved sons, Germanicus, mysteriously died, many suspected the jealous emperor Tiberius was involved. So in ad 28, when a distinguished Roman, Titius Sabinus, started helping out the widow and family, some ambitious public figures saw a chance to prove their loyalty to the emperor by stitching up Sabinus good and proper. One of them, Lucanius Latiaris, started privately sympathising with Sabinus.

Public life for politicians does not seem to get any easier. Have, as a male, a close male companion, and if the tabloids are not after you, the posh papers will attack you for your insensitivity in pointing to your marriage and desire for a family to demonstrate that you are not gay — disgusting! Enter a coalition, and all disagreements will be disasters. In his ‘Rules for Politicians’, the Greek essayist Plutarch (c. ad 46-120) gives sensible advice about all this. Any decision to enter public life must not be based on ‘an inability to think of anything else to do’; nor must one do it to make money, or with emotional urges to do good or a desire for fame.

Only time will tell whether Tony Blair was wise to publish his memoirs. The first Roman emperor Augustus, who came to power in 31 BC after a bloody civil war, abandoned his. His purpose seems to have been to answer his critics, who were accusing him of being a merciless, criminal, cowardly, jumped-up nobody. But in 23 BC he discontinued it. Instead, he concentrated on refining his Res Gestae (‘My Achievements’), which was inscribed on two bronze plaques and placed outside his mausoleum in Rome. In other words, Augustus was interested in posterity’s judgment. He realised that an autobiography which merely refought yesterday’s battles achieved nothing except keeping the muck fresh and reusable.

Will the coalition fall apart, as Lib Dems not in government attempt to bring their influence to bear on policies ‘for which they were not elected’? If the Cameron-Clegg relationship is anything like the Roman patronus-cliens relationship, it is unlikely. Will the coalition fall apart, as Lib Dems not in government attempt to bring their influence to bear on policies ‘for which they were not elected’? If the Cameron-Clegg relationship is anything like the Roman patronus-cliens relationship, it is unlikely. All Roman political big shots surrounded themselves with political supporters in the shape of voluntary ‘clients’, but the relationship between the two was not symmetrical.

Universities warn that even those with top A-levels may not get in, such is the pressure on places. But are A-levels the right criteria for university entrance? In his Metaphysics Aristotle begins by arguing that memory is the means by which humans acquire experience (empeiria). From this they learn that something is the case. But they can then go on to gain epistêmê — ‘knowledge’ based on logical reasoning, and technê — the ‘skill’ to produce something with an awareness of the principles underlying the process. Such people know why and how something is the case and can draw general conclusions from specific experiences.

Romans were always sensitive to the controllability of any territory that abutted their empire. What on earth would they have made of Afghanistan? Let alone its army? Rex sociusque et amicus, ‘king, ally and friend’ was the honorific term applied to the ruler of people on the edge of their empire who agreed to come on board. The relationship was a delicate quid pro quo: Rome ensured that their new best friend remained securely in power, as long as he had a grip on his people, remained loyal to Rome and jumped when asked.

The 7th century bc Greek farmer-poet Hesiod laid down the marker when he lamented that he lived in the age of iron, when men ‘will never cease from toil and misery by day and night’. The reason is that, in the pre-industrial ancient world, there were, effectively, no such things as ‘jobs’. Virtually everyone, bar the rich, lived off the soil. So ‘work’ was not a matter of choice. If you did not work, you died, though an epitaph highlighted the benefits: sweet repose, no fear of starvation, permanent, rent-free accommodation — so never in debt! Popular morality rammed home the point. Aesop contrasted the ant who worked to prepare for the winter with the grasshopper who sang the summer away and paid the price.

The French may legislate to ban the all-enveloping burka/niqab worn by some Muslim women, but Claudius, Roman emperor ad 41-54, would no more have banned them than he did trouser-wearing Frenchman. In ad 48, Gallic chieftains who had long-standing treaties with Rome and were of citizen status decided they wanted the right to enter the Roman Senate. Fierce debate ensued. Some Romans opposed it. They argued that there were enough properly bred Romans to fill the Senate, and enough non-Romans had been admitted anyway. The Gauls who came in would be descendants of people traditionally hostile to Rome, who had fought Julius Caesar and earlier still (390 bc) even sacked the city. Let them be citizens, but they must not cheapen Rome’s high office.

Whatever Nato thinks it might achieve in Afghanistan, it is not at all clear that the Afghans themselves are in favour of it. In a remarkable speech put in the mouth of the Caledonian leader Calgacus before the battle of Mons Graupius in ad 84, the Roman historian Tacitus articulates with extraordinary precision the feelings that many Afghans must have about the American presence today. For ‘Britons’ reads ‘Afghans’, for ‘Romans’ read ‘Americans’ throughout. ‘When I consider the crisis that drives us to battle, I am convinced that the united front you are showing today will mean the dawn of liberty for the whole of Britain. Everyone to a man is here, together. None has ever tasted slavery.

Cold cabbage anyway (people didn’t like Brown? No!), Lord Mandelson’s memoirs read like the work of a robot with a dictaphone. Cold cabbage anyway (people didn’t like Brown? No!), Lord Mandelson’s memoirs read like the work of a robot with a dictaphone. Contrast the letters of the Roman statesman Cicero (106-43 bc). ‘I talk to you,’ Cicero said to his chum Atticus, ‘as though I were talking to myself,’ and in doing so he reveals the man: cultured, liberal and humane, witty and stylish, nervous, vain and indiscrete, but perhaps most of all, ever dependent for peace of mind on the views of others.

Taxes, spending cuts, and a few sweeteners — rather how the emperor Vespasian dealt with his financial crisis when he came to came to power in Rome in ad 69, but less inventive. Taxes, spending cuts, and a few sweeteners — rather how the emperor Vespasian dealt with his financial crisis when he came to came to power in Rome in ad 69, but less inventive. Nero had poured gazillions into military campaigns and the construction of a fabulous palace (the ‘Golden House’) for himself. The great fire of Rome in ad 64 burned another vast hole in the accounts. But Vespasian was a man suited to the task ahead. He was of humble origins, with simple tastes, hard-working (he rose early) and with a good sense of humour (on his death-bed he observed, ‘Good heavens!

There is something depressing about the ways university vice-chancellors talk up their plight in the face of cuts. Not only do they not seem to have the faintest idea what a university is actually for, they also do not seem to realise the implications of their demands for vast increases in fees. In the ancient world, education was a service, not a right, provided by individuals, not the state, for a fee. Its purpose in what one might call the ‘higher education’ sector was, for the most part, to serve the children of the elite by providing them with the skills required for a successful elite career, i.e. in law and/or politics. That meant what we now call ‘communications skills’, i.e. rhetoric — the capacity to make a persuasive case.

The newspapers are turning up the heat on government proposals to raise capital gains tax from 18 to 40 per cent. From powerful business factions to starving pensioners, howls of outrage echo across the pages. A success, then, for the coalition: getting the newspapers to do the scaremongering for you is a very efficient way of gauging public opinion. The only way the ancients could do this was in secret. The greatest sculptor of the Greek world, Pheidias, needing the reassurance of public approval, hid (we are told) in his studio and listened to the comments. In ad 16, Germanicus, the popular adopted son of the Roman emperor Tiberius, was on campaign in Germany.

Experience may count for nothing. Look at Gordon Brown — ‘capable of being emperor — had he never been emperor’ indeed, as Tacitus said of Galba, emperor for seven months in ad 68-69. Experience may count for nothing. Look at Gordon Brown — ‘capable of being emperor — had he never been emperor’ indeed, as Tacitus said of Galba, emperor for seven months in ad 68-69. But there is something to be said for having been round the block a few times — or even just once — and the parachuting of Danny Alexander (five years ago, press officer for the Cairngorms National Park) from the Scottish office into the Treasury on David Laws’s resignation must raise questions.

A ‘bonfire of laws’! How agreeable! But European law is sacred; government will make the final decision, whatever we want; and it cannot be done sensibly without a far more demanding operation. A ‘bonfire of laws’! How agreeable! But European law is sacred; government will make the final decision, whatever we want; and it cannot be done sensibly without a far more demanding operation. The Lex Aquilia (after its proposer Aquilius, c. 287 bc) dealt with unlawful killing, and one section is devoted to ‘four-footed beasts of the class of cattle’. So which animals — apart from cows and bulls — are those? The Roman jurist Gaius (c. ad 160) attempted to answer.

The weirdest sentence to me in the coalition agreement between the Conservatives and the Liberal Democrats was this: ‘It is also likely there will be a grandfathering system for current peers.’ I had no idea what grandfathering was. The weirdest sentence to me in the coalition agreement between the Conservatives and the Liberal Democrats was this: ‘It is also likely there will be a grandfathering system for current peers.’ I had no idea what grandfathering was. Could it be like mothering or babysitting? On looking it up, I discovered that a grandfather clause was a device used in the southern states of America to prevent black people from voting.

Paul Johnson recently wrote about the use of Athenian-style ostracism to send bores of one’s choice into exile. Paul Johnson recently wrote about the use of Athenian-style ostracism to send bores of one’s choice into exile. The device would better serve a hung parliament. The point about Athenian ostracism is that it was not a random way of exiling anyone that any Athenian felt like, at any time. Had that been the case, Athens would have been emptied very quickly. It was purely political. Just once a year, the question was put to the sovereign decision-making assembly (all Athenian male citizens over 18) whether they wanted an ostracism.