The Two Great Republics: Rome and the United States

by James Lewis

CHAPTER VIII

Marius and Sulla

The Roman government after the death of Gaius Gracchus, while still nominally a republic, had lost all its democratic character and had once more become an oligarchy such as had existed centuries before, during the period of the patrician republic. It was evident, however, that the existing situation could not permanently continue. The oligarchical government is that form of government which from its very nature can never acquire stability. Both democracy and monarchy possess elements of strength which may give to such governments a long continuance of life; the oligarchy, lacking both the strength of foundation of the one and the unity of action of the other, must inevitably be supplanted by a freer or a more restricted system of government. After the fall of Gaius Gracchus the last opportunity for the re-creation in Rome of a truly democratic form of government was lost. It should have been evident to any one who could read the signs of the future that the power for the time possessed by the senatorial oligarchy would soon be snatched from it, either by the frenzied hand of a mob or by the strong hand of a despot.

Few in Rome at this time, however, seem to have been thinking much about the future. To reactionists or even to conservatives the future is always almost an unknown word; satisfied with the present, or looking back with regret to the past, the supporters of special interests and the votaries of tradition walk backward over the precipice, the near presence of which they will neither see for themselves nor be warned of by others.

A flicker of life on the part of the popular party was seen in an effort by the tribune Decius to indict the former consul Opimius for his part in the murder of Gaius Gracchus and his friends. The defense of Opimius was undertaken by the renegade Carbo. The life of this politician seems an excellent example in proof of the statement that the demagogue seeks the favor of the people only for his own advantage, and that as soon as he has acquired such favor, and has become a person of influence, his next step is to sell himself, now valuable on account of the political power he has acquired through his hypocrisy toward the people, to the special interests. No better contrast can be found in history between the true reformer and the unprincipled demagogue than is the contrast between Tiberius Gracchus and Carbo. While it is comparatively easy, however, to go back into past ages and to separate the sheep from the goats, and to distinguish between reformer and hypocrite, it is a much harder undertaking to do this with the living politicians. It often happens that the people are too ready to follow the demagogue and to repudiate and ridicule the honest reformer. Striking illustrations of this phenomenon could easily be given from recent American history. The doctrine of the survival of the fittest applies in all sciences, social as well as natural. In all its applications, however, this doctrine is that of the survival of the fittest to meet existing conditions, not the survival of the fittest from the standpoint of absolute merit. With those who attempt to secure the political support of the proletariat of a great city, merit is to a great extent a handicap, and a certain class of vices the greatest advantage.

There are some men naturally so constituted that the doctrine that the end justifies the means can be consistently and safely applied by them in their public life. To this class have belonged most of those men through whom all the greatest victories for liberty and the greatest reforms in this world have been finally achieved. The mass of mankind, however, are incapable of consistently and permanently following the doctrine; and with all men, except the few above referred to, the character of their objects and methods must act and react upon each other. The result is that those seeking reform and honesty in politics, in the main seek to accomplish their purposes by honest methods; while the demagogue, seeking his own interests alone, a hypocrite as to his motives, will never consider as to the honesty of his methods. It is only on exceptional occasions that the honest advocate of popular rights can win the support of the mob by honest methods. Several causes work together to accomplish this result. In the lower economic strata the individual is far more strongly influenced by his own immediate interests than by the permanent interests of the class to which he belongs. Perhaps it would be too much to expect the contrary.

We have constantly before us to-day the spectacle of men who—loudest in their denunciation of the discrimination which public officials exercise in favor of the special classes and against the common citizen—at election time, in consideration of a few dollars for themselves, exert all their influence in favor of the worst exponents of the system they denounce. By the return, in the form of direct or indirect bribes to a selected few of the proletariat, of a small portion of the money previously illegally or unjustly exploited from the poor, the politicians of the "practical" type are able to secure the assent of the greater portion of the proletariat to the continuation of such exploitation.

Again, the candidate or political leader who intends to carry out his promises is under a disadvantage in comparison with the candidate or leader who does not. There are limitations to what government can accomplish; there are no limitations to what a demagogue can promise. There is no more unfavorable criticism possible upon the lack of proper intelligence of the majority of the American voters than the character of the promises and the arguments which are received with applause at political meetings of every political party.

This criticism upon the political actions of the poorer classes, economically, by no means indicates that they are the least desirable class of voters in a country, or that a country would be better governed if the ballot were taken away from them. The truth of the matter is that it is mainly by the votes and efforts of the lowest classes in a community (from the standpoint of wealth and social status) that every great reform or popular victory must be achieved. It is at the great crises that the masses are most generally right, and the classes most generally wrong. No phenomenon of history is more clear and more striking than that, at every great crisis of the world's history, the mass of the wealthy and educated classes has been always wrong. Nowhere is this more plainly to be discerned than in the history of our own country. In the Revolutionary days the great mass of the wealth and education in the country was to be found on the Tory side. At the crisis the concrete question of personal interest prevails over the abstract idea of public welfare; those who are personally satisfied with existing conditions are slow to advocate a change; those who have little to lose find it easier to be courageous. Next to the small nucleus of true reformers, the first adherents of any reform movement are apt to be the discontented and restless elements of the community.

We can see a working example of this phenomenon, many centuries ago, in the brief account which the Bible gives us of the recruiting of the force with which David first offered resistance to King Saul. "David therefore departed thence, and escaped to the Cave Adullam: and when his brethren and all his father's house heard it, they went down thither to him. And every one that was in distress, and every one that was in debt, and every one that was discontented, gathered themselves unto him; and he became a captain over them."