I can almost see Tacitus (55-117AD) weep as he wrote of Rome’s transition from a free republic to a despotic empire.
After Augustus won over the soldiers with gifts, and the people with cheap corn, he slowly concentrated in himself the powers of the senate, the magistrates, and laws. In this, he was unopposed, for the boldest spirits had fallen in battle or been murdered in the proscriptions. The remaining nobles, the readier they were to be slaves, were raised the higher by wealth and promotion. So aggrandized were they by revolution, they preferred the safety of the present as opposed to the dangerous past.
Much of what I have related and shall have to relate, may perhaps, I am aware, seem petty trifles to record. But no one must compare my annals with the writings of those who described Rome in the old days. They told of great wars, of the storming of cities, of the defeat and capture of kings, or whenever they turned by preference to home affairs, they related, with a free scope for digression, the strifes of consuls with tribunes, land and corn-laws, and the struggles between the commons and the aristocracy.
Still, it will not be useless to study those at first sight trifling events out of which the movements of vast changes often take their rise.
All nations and cities are ruled by the people, the nobility, or by one man. A constitution, formed by selection out of these elements, it is easy to commend but not to produce; or, if it is produced, it cannot be lasting. Formerly, when the people had power or when the patricians were in the ascendant, the popular temper and the methods of controlling it had to be studied, and those who knew most accurately the spirit of the senate and aristocracy, had the credit of understanding the age and of being wise men. So now, after a revolution, when Rome is nothing but the realm of a single despot, there must be good in carefully noting and recording this period, for it is but few who have the foresight to distinguish right from wrong or what is sound from what is hurtful, while most men learn wisdom from the fortunes of others. Still, though this is instructive, it gives very little pleasure. Descriptions of countries, the various incidents of battles, glorious deaths of great generals, enchain and refresh a reader’s mind.
I have to present in succession the merciless biddings of a tyrant, incessant prosecutions, faithless friendships, the ruin of innocence, the same causes issuing the same results, and I am everywhere confronted by a wearisome monotony in my subject matter. Then, again, an ancient historian has but few disparagers, and no one cares whether you praise more heartily the armies of Carthage or Rome. But of many who endured punishment or disgrace under Tiberius, the descendants yet survive; or even though the families themselves may be now extinct, you will find those who, from a resemblance of character, imagine that the evil deeds of others are a reproach to themselves. Again, even honor and virtue make enemies, condemning, as they do, their opposites by too close a contrast. But I return to my work . . .
As a consequence of the Roman civil wars, most of the best men were gone. The few that remained kept quiet. Are the best men and women in our national government, those who respect the Constitution, prominent in congress, or are they kept subdued and restrained?
Personal loyalty to the Emperor was the path to advancement and wealth. Why are Washington, DC and surrounding counties so wealthy? For whom do these people work? To whom are they loyal? Is their devotion to the Constitution to which they swore allegiance?
In the last sentence of the second paragraph, Tacitus remarked on a feature of true republican government that didn’t evade the attention of later historians and philosophers: they are boisterous. When power was sufficiently divided, the loud contests between consuls, senators and plebeians made for lively debate and typically good laws. Quiet lawmaking processes are sure signs of despotism. How many thousands of new regulations, quietly crafted by unknown bureaucrats, do Americans endure every year?
Tacitus observes that constitutions are easy to draft, difficult to produce, and do not last long. The Roman republic spanned some 450 years. After 240 years, America teeters on the cusp of despotism in middle-age. Middle-age people have typically developed their ability to reason and have learned from the mistakes and successes of themselves and others. What of our nation? Most realize we are on the path to societal destruction. What is to be done? To believe that voting alone, that which has not turned back the tide of approaching tyranny, can be our salvation, is to ignore and discard our God-given reason.
In his last paragraph, Tacitus apologizes for what the reader will encounter next, a rendition of murderous tyranny spanning a hundred years.
Unless patriots put a stop to the march of deadly Utopian progressivism, my mind’s eye views a 22nd century Tacitus who somehow avoids government surveillance and pens a tome on 21st century Americans who lost all because they were insufficiently covetous of liberty.
We are the many; our oppressors are the few. Be proactive. Be a Re-Founder. Join Convention of States. Sign our COS Petition.