Bring Back Cincinnatus

The unceasing quest for power drains politics of its chief purpose: service

Having heroes can be risky. If there’s anything that we’ve learned from recent reassessments of the past, it is that very few figures have the lives to support their image as heroes. Many are now familiar with the flaws of George Washington, but even Alexander Hamilton, so inspiringly celebrated in song, was likely a slave trader. In this cultural moment, we are wary of heroes. But we need not be wary of good examples—even if those whose lives provide the examples prove to be imperfect. 

In fact, many of our heroes themselves had heroes, figures to whom they turned for inspiration. Such iconic figures often shaped the ideas and actions of our political leaders in positive ways. One such figure is Cincinnatus—flawed, to be sure, but eminently worthy of remembering.

Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus was a figure from fifth-century Rome. We know about Cincinnatus from the Roman historian Livy, who portrayed him as a model of civic virtue. Cincinnatus was a Roman patrician and official who was living in retirement on his farm when he was called by the Roman Republic to be dictator—a temporary and powerful position considered necessary in times of extreme crisis. Cincinnatus helped the Republic defeat its military enemies and then returned to retirement rather than hold on to power. And then he actually did the same thing a second time. There are many reasons why not all Americans would uphold the whole of Cincinnatus’s life as a model, but his example of relinquishing power and returning to regular life played a formative role in the lives of many American leaders. It is still a good lesson for us today.

George Washington revered Cincinnatus and was shaped by his example, so much so that he was even sometimes called the “American Cincinnatus.” Like Cincinnatus, Washington went back to his farm, from the Continental Army after the war and after two terms as president. Many of Washington’s contemporaries considered Cincinnatus a model to emulate, as did later figures, like Harry S. Truman. Not only did Truman love the story of Cincinnatus as a young man and a farmer, he considered his example when he was president. Truman believed that there was a “lure in power. It can get into a man’s blood just as gambling and lust for money have been known to do.” But in a republic, it should be resisted. Truman said that “Cincinnatus and Washington pointed the way. When Rome forgot Cincinnatus its downfall began. When we forget the examples of such men as Washington, Jefferson and Andrew Jackson, all of whom could have had a continuation in the office, then will we start down the road to dictatorship and ruin.”

In our day, it often seems like political figures will do anything to stay in power. There are senators who seem to view their office as a lifetime position. Political opponents can somewhat justifiably spend much of their time accusing enemies of making decisions solely to exercise power. Politics as a whole can seem like little more than a power play among interest groups, with individual politicians striving to stay on top. Few officeholders seem willing to lose their position over principle or be out of step with their party even if it departs from their politics. Washington and Truman were particularly concerned about the “lure in power” for presidents, but the lure exists for every political office. Cincinnatus’s choices suggest that power should be held lightly and given up easily. We do not have many recent figures like him and so we can remember Cincinnatus, not because he was a perfect person, but because he chose to relinquish power. 

You may suspect that my concern here has to do with issues like term limits. In reality, it is about remembering that the purpose of political office is service, and not the acquisition of power.  

In the eighteenth century, Americans also revered Cincinnatus because he seemed to uphold the agrarian image. He left the post of dictator to return to the plow. Whether or not we subscribe to the agrarian ideal, Cincinnatus reminds us that there is more to life than power and that everyday occupations are also noble. Cincinnatus did not need to control his countrymen or circumvent normal political processes to find fulfillment. Neither do we. The leaving of political office is not necessarily a personal loss. And the loss of political office is not equivalent to a loss of purpose or meaning. 

When it comes to power, Cincinnatus provides an example worth considering. Cincinnatus did not need to do everything right in order to be remembered. We named the city of Cincinnati in his honor in 1790. For Americans living in 2021, it’s worth pondering why.

Elizabeth Stice is Associate Professor of History at Palm Beach Atlantic University. Her essays have appeared at Front Porch Republic, History News Network, and Mere Orthodoxy.