4 MARCH 2006, Page 26

Ancient & modern

Last time we saw how closely the preparations to make Gordon Brown prime minister paralleled those to make Tiberius emperor (princeps, ‘first man’) in AD 14, after the death of the first Roman emperor Augustus. Still, the successor to an epoch-making leader faces a big problem — making his own mark. Tiberius had very specific views on the matter.

When Augustus was emperor, there was no question about who made the decisions: he did, and the Senate, consuls and the rest — mere shadows of their earlier republican counterparts knew it. They were not about to risk their careers by crossing him.

Tiberius was not having this. In his first address as princeps to the Senate, he said that he had seen for himself how difficult and chancy running an empire was — only Augustus was really up to the task; with so many able people in the Senate, he therefore thought the burdens of state should be shared. The Senate begged him to do no such thing. Tiberius then produced a document in Augustus’s hand detailing the resources of the empire — troop strength, finances, state of the provinces and so on — and said he would, of course, be prepared to do his part. Senator after senator rose to demand he do it all: the state was an organic whole, requiring one mind to run it, argued Gallus. ‘How long, Caesar, will you allow the state to remain without a head?’ demanded Haterius.

This was the story of Tiberius’s principate: trying, and failing, to get the Senate involved. But the Senate was right. They were being offered responsibility, but without power. Since all power was actually vested in the emperor, why risk their careers by making a wrong decision? In the end, a world-weary Tiberius gave up. In AD 26 he left Rome for Capri where he died in AD 37, never returning.

But there is another way of interpreting Tiberius. The ancient historians all believed he was a hypocrite, merely feigning reluctance to assume control in order to flush out the opposition. Pay attention, Gordon. Your burning desire to get your tiny hands, at last, on all the levers of power does not play well with the public. So you should encourage your new best friend Alastair Campbell to cook up a scheme for you to express a yearning to ‘consult’ MPs and ‘listen to all sides’, without excessive helpless laughter off-stage.

Peter Jones