Category Archives: Politics

Literature, Philosophy, Politics

The power of Fortune

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Andrea Previtali, Allegoria della Fortuna alata (beginning of XVI century)
Andrea Previtali, Allegoria della Fortuna alata (beginning of XVI century)

Credo che come la natura ha fatto all’huomo diverso volto, così gli habbia fatto diverso ingegno et diversa fantasia. Da questo nasce che ciascuno secondo lo ingegno et fantasia sua si governa.

I believe that just as Nature has created men with different faces, so she has created them with different intellects and imaginations. Wherefrom it comes that each man leads himself according to his own intellect and imagination.

Et perché dall’altro canto i tempi sono vari et gli ordini delle cose sono diversi, a colui succedono ad votum i suoi desiderii, et quello è felice che riscontra il modo del procedere suo con il tempo, et quello, per opposito, è infelice che si diversifica con le sue actioni dal tempo et dall’ordine delle cose.

And since on the other hand the times are various and the situations are diverse, he who matches his way of doing to the situation in which he operates, will fulfill his projects according to his desires, and will be successful. Conversely, he who isolates himself from the current time and situation will be unsuccessful.

Donde può molto bene essere che due, diversamente operando, habbino uno medesimo fine, perché ciascuno di loro può conformarsi con il riscontro suo, perché sono tanti ordini di cose, quanti sono provincie et stati.

Hence, it can very well be that two men, albeit having acted differently, achieve the same result, for it can happen that each one of the two conforms his actions to what he encounters, and for there are as many different situations as there are provinces and states.

Ma perché i tempi e le cose universalmente et particularmente si mutano spesso, et gli huomini non mutano le loro fantasie né i loro modi di procedere, accade che uno ha un tempo buona fortuna, et un tempo trista. Et veramente chi fosse tanto savio che conoscesse i tempi et l’ordine delle cose, et accomodassisi a quelle, harebbe sempre buona fortuna, o egli si guarderebbe sempre dalla trista, et verrebbe a essere vero che il savio comandasse alle stelle et a’ fati.

But as the times and situations are often changing, both on a general and a particular scale, and men change neither their desires nor their ways of doing, it so happens that one has good fortune at one time, and bad fortune at another. And truly he who should be so wise to understand the times and situations, and to adapt to them, would have good fortune at all times or would always avert bad fortune, and it would come true that the wise command to the stars and fates.

Ma perché di questi savi non si truova, havendo gli uomini prima la vista corta, et non potendo poi comandare alla natura loro, ne segue che la fortuna varia et comanda agli huomini, e tiengli sotto il giogo suo.

But for none of these wise men can be found—considering men are short-sighted, and cannot command to their own nature—it follows that it is erratic Fortune that commands men, and keeps them under her yoke.

—Niccolò Machiavelli, Ghiribizzi al Soderini

History, Literature, Politics

The glory of Rome

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Pierre Mignard, "Clio" (1689)

19.08.14: 2000th anniversary of the death of Octavian Augustus, first Prince of the Roman Empire (63 BC – 14 AD).

“Survey,” pursued the sire, “this airy throng,
As, offer’d to thy view, they pass along.
These are th’ Italian names, which fate will join
With ours, and graff upon the Trojan line.
Observe the youth who first appears in sight,
And holds the nearest station to the light,
Already seems to snuff the vital air,
And leans just forward, on a shining spear:
Silvius is he, thy last-begotten race,
But first in order sent, to fill thy place;
An Alban name, but mix’d with Dardan blood,
Born in the covert of a shady wood:
Him fair Lavinia, thy surviving wife,
Shall breed in groves, to lead a solitary life.
In Alba he shall fix his royal seat,
And, born a king, a race of kings beget.
Then Procas, honor of the Trojan name,
Capys, and Numitor, of endless fame.
A second Silvius after these appears;
Silvius Aeneas, for thy name he bears;
For arms and justice equally renown’d,
Who, late restor’d, in Alba shall be crown’d.
How great they look! how vig’rously they wield
Their weighty lances, and sustain the shield!
But they, who crown’d with oaken wreaths appear,
Shall Gabian walls and strong Fidena rear;
Nomentum, Bola, with Pometia, found;
And raise Collatian tow’rs on rocky ground.
All these shall then be towns of mighty fame,
Tho’ now they lie obscure, and lands without a name.
See Romulus the great, born to restore
The crown that once his injur’d grandsire wore.
This prince a priestess of your blood shall bear,
And like his sire in arms he shall appear.
Two rising crests, his royal head adorn;
Born from a god, himself to godhead born:
His sire already signs him for the skies,
And marks the seat amidst the deities.
Auspicious chief! thy race, in times to come,
Shall spread the conquests of imperial Rome
Rome, whose ascending tow’rs shall heav’n invade,
Involving earth and ocean in her shade;
High as the Mother of the Gods in place,
And proud, like her, of an immortal race.
Then, when in pomp she makes the Phrygian round,
With golden turrets on her temples crown’d;
A hundred gods her sweeping train supply;
Her offspring all, and all command the sky.

“Now fix your sight, and stand intent, to see
Your Roman race, and Julian progeny.
The mighty Caesar waits his vital hour,
Impatient for the world, and grasps his promis’d pow’r.
But next behold the youth of form divine,
Ceasar himself, exalted in his line;
Augustus, promis’d oft, and long foretold,
Sent to the realm that Saturn rul’d of old;
Born to restore a better age of gold.
Afric and India shall his pow’r obey;
He shall extend his propagated sway
Beyond the solar year, without the starry way,
Where Atlas turns the rolling heav’ns around,
And his broad shoulders with their lights are crown’d.
At his foreseen approach, already quake
The Caspian kingdoms and Maeotian lake:
Their seers behold the tempest from afar,
And threat’ning oracles denounce the war.
Nile hears him knocking at his sev’nfold gates,
And seeks his hidden spring, and fears his nephew’s fates.

Nor Hercules more lands or labors knew,
Not tho’ the brazen-footed hind he slew,
Freed Erymanthus from the foaming boar,
And dipp’d his arrows in Lernaean gore;
Nor Bacchus, turning from his Indian war,
By tigers drawn triumphant in his car,
From Nisus’ top descending on the plains,
With curling vines around his purple reins.
And doubt we yet thro’ dangers to pursue
The paths of honor, and a crown in view?
But what’s the man, who from afar appears?
His head with olive crown’d, his hand a censer bears,
His hoary beard and holy vestments bring
His lost idea back: I know the Roman king.
He shall to peaceful Rome new laws ordain,
Call’d from his mean abode a scepter to sustain.
Him Tullus next in dignity succeeds,
An active prince, and prone to martial deeds.
He shall his troops for fighting fields prepare,
Disus’d to toils, and triumphs of the war.
By dint of sword his crown he shall increase,
And scour his armor from the rust of peace.
Whom Ancus follows, with a fawning air,
But vain within, and proudly popular.
Next view the Tarquin kings, th’ avenging sword
Of Brutus, justly drawn, and Rome restor’d.
He first renews the rods and ax severe,
And gives the consuls royal robes to wear.
His sons, who seek the tyrant to sustain,
And long for arbitrary lords again,
With ignominy scourg’d, in open sight,
He dooms to death deserv’d, asserting public right.
Unhappy man, to break the pious laws
Of nature, pleading in his children’s cause!
Howeer the doubtful fact is understood,
‘T is love of honor, and his country’s good:
The consul, not the father, sheds the blood.
Behold Torquatus the same track pursue;
And, next, the two devoted Decii view:
The Drusian line, Camillus loaded home
With standards well redeem’d, and foreign foes o’ercome
The pair you see in equal armor shine,
Now, friends below, in close embraces join;
But, when they leave the shady realms of night,
And, cloth’d in bodies, breathe your upper light,
With mortal hate each other shall pursue:
What wars, what wounds, what slaughter shall ensue!
From Alpine heights the father first descends;
His daughter’s husband in the plain attends:
His daughter’s husband arms his eastern friends.
Embrace again, my sons, be foes no more;
Nor stain your country with her children’s gore!
And thou, the first, lay down thy lawless claim,
Thou, of my blood, who bearist the Julian name!
Another comes, who shall in triumph ride,
And to the Capitol his chariot guide,
From conquer’d Corinth, rich with Grecian spoils.
And yet another, fam’d for warlike toils,
On Argos shall impose the Roman laws,
And on the Greeks revenge the Trojan cause;
Shall drag in chains their Achillean race;
Shall vindicate his ancestors’ disgrace,
And Pallas, for her violated place.
Great Cato there, for gravity renown’d,
And conqu’ring Cossus goes with laurels crown’d.
Who can omit the Gracchi? who declare
The Scipios’ worth, those thunderbolts of war,
The double bane of Carthage? Who can see
Without esteem for virtuous poverty,
Severe Fabricius, or can cease T’ admire
The plowman consul in his coarse attire?
Tir’d as I am, my praise the Fabii claim;
And thou, great hero, greatest of thy name,
Ordain’d in war to save the sinking state,
And, by delays, to put a stop to fate!
Let others better mold the running mass
Of metals, and inform the breathing brass,
And soften into flesh a marble face;
Plead better at the bar; describe the skies,
And when the stars descend, and when they rise.
But, Rome, ‘t is thine alone, with awful sway,
To rule mankind, and make the world obey,
Disposing peace and war by thy own majestic way;
To tame the proud, the fetter’d slave to free:
These are imperial arts, and worthy thee.”

—Publius Vergilius Maro, Aeneid (VIII, 756-853)

History, Literature, Politics

Tyranny disguised as freedom

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Ma la causa vera di tutti i nostri mali, di questa tristezza nostra, sai qual è? La democrazia, mio caro, la democrazia, cioè il governo della maggioranza. Perché, quando il potere è in mano d’uno solo, quest’uno sa d’esser uno e di dover contentare molti; ma quando i molti governano, pensano soltanto a contentar se stessi, e si ha allora la tirannia più balorda e più odiosa; la tirannia mascherata da libertà.

The real cause of all our suffering, our sorrow, do you know what it is? Democracy, my dear, democracy, that is, the rule of the majority. Because when power is in the hands of one sole man, he knows he is one and has to satisfy many; but when many are in power, they only think of satisfying themselves; and the tyranny most foolish and hideous ensues: tyranny disguised as freedom.

—Luigi Pirandello (1867-1936)

Literature, Politics

Dante bifronte

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È impressionante il numero delle sue compagnie bancarie e mercantili (le due attività erano quasi sempre congiunte): hanno la loro base in città, ma operano sull’intero scacchiere europeo e mediterraneo attraverso un sistema di filiali e di alleanze in grado di coprire i mercati più importanti, dalle Fiandre all’Inghilterra, dalla Francia al Regno di Sicilia, al Nord Africa. Il cuore della finanza fiorentina è il fiorino. Questa moneta di ventiquattro carati d’oro, che su una faccia aveva impresso il giglio simbolo della città e sull’altra l’effigie di Giovanni Battista, suo protettore, fu coniata a partire dal novembre 1252 e ben presto si impose come la principale moneta degli scambi internazionali, una sorta di dollaro dell’epoca, che aveva corso perfino tra i Saraceni. Il famoso teologo e predicatore domenicano Remigio dei Girolami arriva a proclamare che il fiorino era uno dei sette doni concessi a Firenze dalla Provvidenza. Lo sviluppo economico e l’accresciuto ruolo di Firenze come potenza regionale provocano un cospicuo fenomeno di inurbamento, alimentato non solo dall’immigrazione di manodopera dal contado, ma anche dall’insediarsi in città di proprietari terrieri e di detentori di diritti feudali, nonché di artigiani, giudici, avvocati e notai provenienti da altri centri urbani.

Niente di tutto ciò piaceva a Dante. Per lui il fiorino era un «maladetto fiore» sbocciato dalla corruzione. Era il simbolo tangibile del pervertimento della società. I nuovi potenti, divenuti tali grazie agli affari, avevano sostituito il guadagno alle virtù civiche e militari delle antiche famiglie magnatizie. La grandezza, la confusione, l’attivismo di una città nella quale nobili e popolani erano tutti dediti a una qualche occupazione economica suscitano in lui il rimpianto della piccola Firenze di cent’anni prima, della città che, «dentro da la cerchia antica» delle mura, viveva sobriamente, ma con decoro, pace e pudicizia, e regolava i tempi della giornata lavorativa sul suono delle campane della Badia. I fiorentini allora si sentivano parte di una comunità ristretta, rispettosa di gerarchie sociali immutabili («fida cittadinanza»), ignara degli sconvolgimenti prodotti dall’arrivo dei forestieri del contado («la gente nova») e dai rapidi arricchimenti di famiglie senza passato («i sùbiti guadagni»).

Nessuno, a quei tempi, avrebbe potuto prevedere che i Guidi, i conti per antonomasia, si sarebbero dovuti piegare ad avere residenze in città, proprio nel vicinato degli Alighieri; ma, peggio ancora, che quelle case poi sarebbero state acquistate dai Cerchi, una famiglia di origini oscure immigrata dalla Val di Sieve. E tanto meno i felici abitanti dell’antico San Pier Maggiore avrebbero immaginato che un giorno nel loro quartiere si sarebbe sparso il «puzzo / del villan d’Aguglion», del giurista Baldo proveniente dal castello di Aguglione in Val di Pesa. Durante l’esilio Dante sarà sferzante nei confronti dei Cerchi e, ancor più, di Baldo d’Aguglione: i suoi giudizi nasceranno dalla delusione, perché lui a Firenze era stato uomo dei Cerchi, e dall’odio personale, perché anche con Baldo, prima che questi diventasse suo nemico, per un breve periodo aveva avuto una qualche consonanza politica. E tuttavia Dante, sebbene rispetto agli umanisti alla Petrarca, così brillantemente internazionali e super partes, appaia per carattere e per formazione uomo di municipio, in realtà non fu mai in sintonia con la società fiorentina, nemmeno quando godeva dei diritti di cittadinanza. Ne avversava proprio la modernità, cioè il progresso economico e la mobilità sociale. Tra le molte contraddizioni della sua personalità spicca il modo antitetico nel quale egli valuta le innovazioni a seconda che incidano sulla sfera artistico-culturale o su quella politico-sociale. Dante ritiene, ed è un pensiero del tutto originale, che lo scorrere del tempo abbia un ruolo decisivo nel trasformare i fenomeni culturali: le lingue naturali sono instabili e incessantemente mutevoli; le arti e la letteratura sono anch’esse in movimento: Franco Bolognese supera l’arte di miniare di Oderisi da Gubbio, Giotto soppianta Cimabue, Cavalcanti toglie a Guinizelli la gloria della lingua, il «dolce stil novo» si lascia alle spalle tutta la produzione lirica da Giacomo da Lentini a Guittone d’Arezzo e Bonagiunta da Lucca. Ebbene, l’intellettuale che mostra di avere una così acuta percezione della storicità dei fenomeni culturali, quando volge lo sguardo alle dinamiche sociali, economiche e politiche della sua epoca vorrebbe bloccare il corso della storia, anzi, riportare indietro le lancette dell’orologio. Rifiuta in blocco gli assetti produttivi basati sulla manifattura, il commercio e la finanza, il rimescolamento del tessuto sociale dei Comuni da essi prodotto (la «cittadinanza, ch’è or mista»), le nuove forme signorili di governo (che lui chiama «tirannidi»), il deperimento delle giurisdizioni feudali, la centralità della finanza nei rapporti tra Stati e signorie. Dante considera il dinamismo sociale degenerazione dei costumi e perversione dei valori; la perdita di ruolo e di potere degli antichi ceti dominanti, caduta dei pilastri dell’ordine comunitario; la concorrenza aspra tra le città e l’affermarsi di istituzioni signorili, disordine esiziale per la pacifica convivenza della cristianità. È convinto che la salvezza verrà solo ritornando indietro alla serena e domestica Firenze premercantile, all’epoca in cui la cristianità poggiava sull’equilibrio tra i due «soli» (papato e impero), a un assetto sociale gerarchico e stabile imperniato sulla nobiltà feudale. Tornare indietro e bloccare il tempo. Ricostituire un mondo immobile, garantito da un disegno istituzionale immutabile, simile in questo all’eterna corte celeste del Paradiso.

Sebastiano Ricci, "Paesaggio con rovine classiche e figure" (1725)

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History, Literature, Philosophy, Politics

The deterioration of democracy

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“And now,” said I, “the fairest polity and the fairest man remain for us to describe, the tyranny and the tyrant.”
“Certainly,” he said.
“Come then, tell me, dear friend, how tyranny arises. That it is an outgrowth of democracy is fairly plain.”
“Yes, plain.”
“Is it, then, in a sense, in the same way in which democracy arises out of oligarchy that tyranny arises from democracy?”
[562b] “How is that?”
“The good that they proposed to themselves and that was the cause of the establishment of oligarchy—it was wealth, was it not?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, the insatiate lust for wealth and the neglect of everything else for the sake of money-making was the cause of its undoing.”
“True,” he said.
“And is not the avidity of democracy for that which is its definition and criterion of good the thing which dissolves it too?”
“What do you say its criterion to be?”
“Liberty,” I replied; “for you may hear it said that this is best managed in a democratic city, [562c] and for this reason that is the only city in which a man of free spirit will care to live.”
“Why, yes,” he replied, “you hear that saying everywhere.”
“Then, as I was about to observe, is it not the excess and greed of this and the neglect of all other things that revolutionizes this constitution too and prepares the way for the necessity of a dictatorship?”
“How?” he said. “Why, when a democratic city athirst for liberty gets bad cupbearers [562d] for its leaders and is intoxicated by drinking too deep of that unmixed wine, and then, if its so-called governors are not extremely mild and gentle with it and do not dispense the liberty unstintedly, it chastises them and accuses them of being accursed oligarchs.”
“Yes, that is what they do,” he replied.
“But those who obey the rulers,” I said, “it reviles as willing slaves and men of naught, but it commends and honors in public and private rulers who resemble subjects and subjects who are like rulers. [562e] Is it not inevitable that in such a state the spirit of liberty should go to all lengths?”
“Of course.”
“And this anarchical temper,” said I, “my friend, must penetrate into private homes and finally enter into the very animals.”
“Just what do we mean by that?” he said.
“Why,” I said, “the father habitually tries to resemble the child and is afraid of his sons, and the son likens himself to the father and feels no awe or fear of his parents, [563a] so that he may be forsooth a free man. And the resident alien feels himself equal to the citizen and the citizen to him, and the foreigner likewise.”
“Yes, these things do happen,” he said.
“They do,” said I, “and such other trifles as these. The teacher in such case fears and fawns upon the pupils, and the pupils pay no heed to the teacher or to their overseers either. And in general the young ape their elders and vie with them in speech and action, while the old, accommodating themselves to the young, [563b] are full of pleasantry and graciousness, imitating the young for fear they may be thought disagreeable and authoritative.”
“By all means,” he said.
“And the climax of popular liberty, my friend,” I said, “is attained in such a city when the purchased slaves, male and female, are no less free than the owners who paid for them. And I almost forgot to mention the spirit of freedom and equal rights in the relation of men to women and women to men.”
[563c] “Shall we not, then,” said he, “in Aeschylean phrase, say “whatever rises to our lips’?”
“Certainly,” I said, “so I will. Without experience of it no one would believe how much freer the very beasts subject to men are in such a city than elsewhere. The dogs literally verify the adage and ‘like their mistresses become.’ And likewise the horses and asses are wont to hold on their way with the utmost freedom and dignity, bumping into everyone who meets them and who does not step aside. And so all things everywhere are just bursting with the spirit of liberty.”
[563d] “It is my own dream you are telling me,” he said; “for it often happens to me when I go to the country.”
“And do you note that the sum total of all these items when footed up is that they render the souls of the citizens so sensitive that they chafe at the slightest suggestion of servitude and will not endure it? For you are aware that they finally pay no heed even to the laws written or unwritten, [563e] so that forsooth they may have no master anywhere over them.”
“I know it very well,” said he.

—Plato, Politeia (VIII, 562a-563e)

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History, Literature, Politics

The Death of Caesar

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15.03.14: 2058th anniversary of the death of Julius Caesar (100-44 BC).

Karl Theodor von Piloty, "The murder of Caesar" (1865)
Karl Theodor von Piloty, “The murder of Caesar” (1865)

[81] Now Caesar’s approaching murder was foretold to him by unmistakable signs. A few months before, when the settlers assigned to the colony at Capua by the Julian Law were demolishing some tombs of great antiquity, to build country houses, and plied their work with the greater vigour because as they rummaged about they found a quantity of vases of ancient workmanship, there was discovered in a tomb, which was said to be that of Capys, the founder of Capua, a bronze tablet, inscribed with Greek words and characters to this purport: “Whenever the bones of Capys shall be moved, it will come to pass that a descendant of his shall be slain at the hands of his kindred, and presently avenged at heavy cost to Italy.” And let no one think this tale a myth or a lie, for it is vouched for by Cornelius Balbus, an intimate friend of Caesar. Shortly before his death, as he was told, the herds of horses which he had dedicated to the river Rubicon when he crossed it, and had let loose without a keeper, stubbornly refused to graze and wept copiously. Again, when he was offering sacrifice, the soothsayer Spurinna warned him to beware of danger, which would come not later than the Ides of March; and on the day before the Ides of that month a little bird called the king-bird flew into the Hall of Pompey with a sprig of laurel, pursued by others of various kinds from the grove hard by, which tore it to pieces in the hall. In fact the very night before his murder he dreamt now that he was flying above the clouds, and now that he was clasping the hand of Jupiter; and his wife Calpurnia thought that the pediment of their house fell, and that her husband was stabbed in her arms; and on a sudden the door of the room flew open of its own accord.
Both for these reasons and because of poor health he hesitated for a long time whether to stay at home and put off what he had planned to do in the senate; but at last, urged by Decimus Brutus not to disappoint the full meeting which had for some time been waiting for him, he went forth almost at the end of the fifth hour; and when a note revealing the plot was handed him by someone on the way, he put it with others which he held in his left hand, intending to read them presently. Then, after several victims had been slain, and he could not get favourable omens, he entered the House in defiance of portents, laughing at Spurinna and calling him a false prophet, because the Ides of March were come without bringing him harm; though Spurinna replied that they had of a truth come, but they had not gone.

[82] As he took his seat, the conspirators gathered about him as if to pay their respects, and straightway Tillius Cimber, who had assumed the lead, came nearer as though to ask something; and when Caesar with a gesture put him off to another time, Cimber caught his toga by both shoulders; then as Caesar cried, “Why, this is violence!” one of the Cascas stabbed him from one side just below the throat. Caesar caught Casca’s arm and ran it through with his stylus, but as he tried to leap to his feet, he was stopped by another wound. When he saw that he was beset on every side by drawn daggers, he muffled his head in his robe, and at the same time drew down its lap to his feet with his left hand, in order to fall more decently, with the lower part of his body also covered. And in this wise he was stabbed with three and twenty wounds, uttering not a word, but merely a groan at the first stroke, though some have written that when Marcus Brutus rushed at him, he said in Greek, “You too, my child?” All the conspirators made off, and he lay there lifeless for some time, until finally three common slaves put him on a litter and carried him home, with one arm hanging down. And of so many wounds none turned out to be mortal, in the opinion of the physician Antistius, except the second one in the breast.
The conspirators had intended after slaying him to drag his body to the Tiber, confiscate his property, and revoke his decrees; but they forebore through fear of Marcus Antonius the consul, and Lepidus, the master of horse.

[81] Sed Caesari futura caedes evidentibus prodigiis denuntiata est. Paucos ante menses, cum in colonia Capua deducti lege Iulia coloni ad extruendas villas vetustissima sepulcra dis[s]icerent idque eo studiosius facerent, quod aliquantum vasculorum operis antiqui scrutantes reperiebant, tabula aenea in monimento, in quo dicebatur Capys conditor Capuae sepultus, inventa est conscripta litteris verbisque Graecis hac sententia: quandoque ossa Capyis detecta essent, fore ut illo prognatus manu consanguineorum necaretur magnisque mox Italiae cladibus vindicaretur. Cuius rei, ne quis fabulosam aut commenticiam putet, auctor est Cornelius Balbus, familiarissimus Caesaris. Proximis diebus equorum greges, quos in traiciendo Rubiconi flumini consecrarat ac vagos et sine custode dimiserat, comperit pertinacissime pabulo abstinere ubertimque flere. Et immolantem haruspex Spurinna monuit, caveret periculum, quod non ultra Martias Idus proferretur. Pridie autem easdem Idus avem regaliolum cum laureo ramulo Pompeianae curiae se inferentem volucres varii generis ex proximo nemore persecutae ibidem discerpserunt. Ea vero nocte, cui inluxit dies caedis, et ipse sibi visus est per quietem interdum supra nubes volitare, alias cum Iove dextram iungere; et Calpurnia uxor imaginata est conlabi fastigium domus maritumque in gremio suo confodi; ac subito cubiculi fores sponte patuerunt. Ob haec simul et ob infirmam valitudinem diu cunctatus an se contineret et quae apud senatum proposuerat agere differret, tandem Decimo Bruto adhortante, ne frequentis ac iam dudum opperientis destitueret, quinta fere hora progressus est libellumque insidiarum indicem ab obvio quodam porrectum libellis ceteris, quos sinistra manu tenebat, quasi mox lecturus commiscuit. Dein pluribus hostiis caesis, cum litare non posset, introiit curiam spreta religione Spurinnamque irridens et ut falsum arguens, quod sine ulla sua noxa Idus Martiae adessent: quanquam is venisse quidem eas diceret, sed non praeterisse.
[82] Assidentem conspirati specie officii circumsteterunt, ilicoque Cimber Tillius, qui primas partes susceperat, quasi aliquid rogaturus propius accessit renventique et gestu[m] in aliud tempus differenti ab utroque umero togam adprehendit: deinde clamantem: ‘ista quidem vis est!’ alter e Cascis aversum vulnerat paulum infra iugulum. Caesar Cascae brachium arreptum graphio traiecit conatusque prosilire alio vulnere tardatus est; utque animadvertit undique se strictis pugionibus peti, toga caput obvoluit, simul sinistra manu sinum ad ima crura deduxit, quo honestius caderet etiam inferiore corporis parte velata. Atque ita tribus et viginti plagis confossus est uno modo ad primum ictum gemitu sine voce edito, etsi tradiderunt quidam Marco Bruto irruenti dixisse: καὶ σὺ τέκνον; Exanimis diffugientibus cunctis aliquamdiu iacuit, donec lecticae impositum, dependente brachio, tres servoli domum rettulerunt. Nec in tot vulneribus, ut Antistius medicus existimabat, letale ullum repertum est, nisi quod secundo loco in pectore acceperat.
Fuerat animus coniuratis corpus occisi in Tiberim trahere, bona publicare, acta rescindere, sed metu Marci Antoni consulis et magistri equitum Lepidi destiterunt.

—Suetonius Tranquillus, Life of the Divine Caesar (81-82)

Philosophy, Politics

La morte della Democrazia

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Quando la città retta a democrazia si ubriaca di libertà confondendola con la licenza, con l’aiuto di cattivi coppieri costretti a comprarsi l’immunità con dosi sempre massicce d’indulgenza verso ogni sorta di illegalità e di soperchieria; quando questa città si copre di fango accettando di farsi serva di uomini di fango per potere continuare a vivere e ad ingrassare nel fango; quando il padre si abbassa al livello del figlio e si mette, bamboleggiando, a copiarlo perché ha paura del figlio; quando il figlio si mette alla pari del padre e, lungi da rispettarlo, impara a disprezzarlo per la sua pavidità; quando il cittadino accetta che, di dovunque venga, chiunque gli capiti in casa, possa acquistarvi gli stessi diritti di chi l’ha costruita e ci è nato; quando i capi tollerano tutto questo per guadagnare voti e consensi in nome di una libertà che divora e corrompe ogni regola ed ordine; c’è da meravigliarsi che l’arbitrio si estenda a tutto e che dappertutto nasca l’anarchia e penetri nelle dimore private e perfino nelle stalle?
In un ambiente siffatto, in cui il maestro teme ed adula gli scolari e gli scolari non tengono in alcun conto i maestri; in cui tutto si mescola e si confonde; in cui chi comanda finge, per comandare sempre di più, di mettersi al servizio di chi è comandato e ne lusinga, per sfruttarli, tutti i vizi; in cui i rapporti tra gli uni e gli altri sono regolati soltanto dalle reciproche convenienze nelle reciproche tolleranze; in cui la demagogia dell’uguaglianza rende impraticabile qualsiasi selezione, ed anzi costringe tutti a misurare il passo delle gambe su chi le ha più corte; in cui l’unico rimedio contro il favoritismo consiste nella molteplicità e moltiplicazione dei favori; in cui tutto è concesso a tutti in modo che tutti ne diventino complici; in un ambiente siffatto, quando raggiunge il culmine dell’anarchia e nessuno è più sicuro di nulla e nessuno è più padrone di qualcosa perché tutti lo sono, anche del suo letto e della sua madia a parità di diritti con lui e i rifiuti si ammonticchiano per le strade perché nessuno può comandare a nessuno di sgombrarli; in un ambiente siffatto, dico, pensi tu che il cittadino accorrerebbe a difendere la libertà, quella libertà, dal pericolo dell’autoritarismo?
Ecco, secondo me, come nascono le dittature. Esse hanno due madri.
Una è l’oligarchia quando degenera, per le sue lotte interne, in satrapia. L’altra è la democrazia quando, per sete di libertà e per l’inettitudine dei suoi capi, precipita nella corruzione e nella paralisi.
Allora la gente si separa da coloro cui fa la colpa di averla condotta a tale disastro e si prepara a rinnegarla prima coi sarcasmi, poi con la violenza che della dittatura è pronuba e levatrice.
Così la democrazia muore: per abuso di se stessa.
E prima che nel sangue, nel ridicolo.

—Platone, estratto da Repubblica (libro VIII), nella libera traduzione di Indro Montanelli