The Lost Virtues
When Julius Caesar was assassinated in 44 B.C., Marc Antony quickly finagled his way into power. Underestimated by his enemies, Antony proved to be a ruthless and cunning tyrant who eliminated anyone who opposed his dictatorial rule. Few were brave or courageous enough to stand in his way.
Marcus Tullius Cicero, 106 BC-43 BC
One elderly man, however, proved to be an exception. At the risk of his personal safety, Marcus Tullius Cicero spoke out against Antony. Cicero, a fierce defender of a free Roman republic, could have simply remained silent. After all, he was wealthy and had been retired from public office for years. He could have lived out his days quietly in luxury, letting the chips fall where they may. But Cicero was made of finer stuff. He put his country above his personal safety and continued to denounce the emperor in public forums until Antony had him executed in 43 B.C.
Cicero was one of Rome’s greatest statesmen, scholars, and writers. He spent his life in the pursuit of truth and justice. He wrote a book on ethics and morals, De Officiis or On Moral Duties, which is still read today over 2,000 years later. Frederick the Great of Prussia called On Moral Duties the greatest book on morality and ethics ever written. It is an extraordinarily practical book on how human beings can become their best selves. Cicero adhered to the Stoic virtues of wisdom, justice, courage, moderation, and above all, truth as standards of human conduct.
Even though Cicero lived before the time of Jesus, many Christian theologians and students of history attribute the first century’s receptivity to the Gospel to his moral and ethical teachings. Cicero, and other classical writers, helped to create a spiritual hunger within the Roman culture for something more than intellectual theory. In the person of Jesus, the moral and ethical teachings of the ancient writers found a flesh-and-blood exemplar.
The early church recognized the contributions of many of these classical moral teachers and reserved for them a privileged place within the Christian story. Plato’s concept of absolute truth and beauty would become bedrock Christian theology. Dante, in his Divine Comedy, would be guided through the inferno by the pre-Christian Virgil. Both of these so-called pagan Greek and Roman writers are valued by the Christian Church today.
Our Founding Fathers, as well as public education in early America, drank deeply from the wells of pre-Christian Roman and Greek moral philosophers. To be sure, Americans drew ethical guidance from Scripture as well, but the classics of antiquity were well known and appreciated. America’s moral character was shaped by Aristotelian ethics, Cicero, Virgil, the Stoic philosophers, Marcus Aurelius and others. Even though only about 50% of 18th century Americans identified themselves as Christian—less than 20% in the mid-17th century—there was a strong moral and ethical foundation among citizens due in large part to the reading or at least knowledge of the classical writers.
The classical and biblical moral instruction imbibed by both Europeans and Americans certainly had its blind spots—the 17th century religious wars in Europe, the institution of slavery, the genocide of Native Americans, to name just a few—but it provided a national moral conscience that ultimately pulled Americans back from their worst instincts. John Adams famously remarked that America’s democracy was tied to virtue, and without virtue America would not survive.
Virtue is in short supply in today’s America. We are driven not by courage, wisdom, moderation, justice, or truth but by power and greed. If the classics, coupled with Scripture, guided our forebears only a few centuries ago, the handbook for today’s political world is Machiavelli’s The Prince. Niccolo Machiavelli, who lived in Italy during the 15th and 16th centuries, wrote that rulers must govern for their own personal benefit and not the benefit of the people.
Rulers, according to The Prince, do not serve the people but are to be served by the people. The ruler does not aspire to do good things for the people but craves power for personal and selfish gain. Regardless of the ethical or moral repercussions, the end justifies the means in Machiavelli’s political handbook. The successful leader will be cunning, not necessarily wise. The leader will be stingy and cruel. It is better to be feared and hated than loved. And above all, the leader must have the ability to lie to the people.
Cicero taught a civic virtue that compares favorably with the New Testament teaching, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” By contrast, Machiavelli taught “Do others in before they do you in.” Unfortunately, America’s moral and ethical anchors have become so unmoored to virtue that many people today seem to prefer Machiavelli to Cicero.
Hitler kept a copy of The Prince by his bedside and called it the most influential work he had ever read. Tyrants the world over would probably agree. The virtues of the ancient world have little place with those who seek power as an end in itself.
In these perilous times, we would do well to remember the words of the 19thcentury British statesman Lord Acton who said: “Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Cicero would agree.
