So I was traveling back to the U.S. a bit this past week and found myself on several occasions quite conscious of police presence and attention. Now, before any of you jump to the wrong conclusions, please allow me to explain.
I’ve been overseas—away from the U.S.—for 17 years of my nearly 25 spent in the Army. More importantly, perhaps, I’ve been in Japan for almost all of the last seven years. Why does this have anything at all to do with concern for the police in the U.S.? Well … and my Japanese friends and colleagues will no doubt laugh at this, but will nonetheless understand completely … I haven’t driven on the right side of the road for quite some time now.
Don’t laugh! I grew up driving in the States and so it shouldn’t feel weird to be back on that side of the road … and yet, there I was, sitting for far too long at intersections, windshield wipers wiping instead of turn signals flashing (stop laughing!) as I repeatedly reminded myself to “keep to the right”. There was no doubt in my mind that at some point during the week I’d find myself driving on the wrong side of the road … and then pulled over by some attentive police officer! For the record, it didn’t happen, though there were some close calls.
Again, while walking around New York City, I couldn’t help but be mindful of the changes. When I attended West Point in the 90’s, the city was a quick trip down the road and so cadets routinely spent a fair amount of time getting into—and usually out of—trouble there. At the time, crime rates were horrible in New York so a trip into the city was always a bit of an adventure.
Things are quite different now. Most people probably walk around without worrying they’ll be mugged, enjoying the sites, the sounds, and the smells of the cosmopolitan metropolis. Country boy that I am, I’ll likely never stop being on edge walking around Times Square, but that’s just me, most of the seemingly endless line of humanity that passed me that day probably weren’t that worried about it at all. New York City has done a good job cleaning itself up.
Still, even with a cleaner—dare I say nicer—New York, the sight of a speeding police cruiser or sound of a far-off siren still causes the pulse to quicken and the head to swivel, essentially putting the body into a very defensive mode. Interestingly, I had the same physiological reaction when I caught a whiff of “special” smoke several times throughout the day. Whether seeing or hearing law enforcement carry out their duties, or being vaguely aware of the likely commission of a crime, I found myself very aware of the presence of officers whose duty it is to uphold the law.
Now, anyone who has read one of my blog posts knows I can’t say enough good things about Hardcore History podcaster, Dan Carlin. But Dan points out in several of his Roman podcasts that throughout the Republic, Rome had no police force at all. None. A grand total of zero officers charged with keeping the internal peace and enforcing the city-state’s laws.
This helps us place into context, then, how the political maneuverings of the late Republic could take the violent turn they did. How fairly benign competition between politicians could evolve into multiple, full-on civil wars that wrecked their democracy and paved the way for authoritarian rule under an imperial system. Much of the blame for the fall of the Roman Republic can perhaps be placed on the city’s police force … or more precisely, the lack thereof.
So how can all of this square with what we “know” of Roman legal proceedings? We know Rome punished criminals, and harshly. We watch movies that include the concept of arrest and trial. We read history that includes charges brought in the Senate, of all places, against aristocratic Romans that often led to exile and monetary fines. How can any of that work without police to enforce the system?
Well, Rome did have magistrates of several flavors, some charged with hearing and assigning punishments for breaking Roman laws, though these individuals didn’t go out and seek law-breakers or generally make arrests themselves. The Roman legal code consisted of the “Twelve Tables” and while the code itself is probably older, they are believed to have been officially adopted as the law of the land in 451 BC. These were basic, practical regulations designed to facilitate a small group of people getting along in a relatively confined space. Think of them more as rules in a country club, wherein the rules—and potential punishments—are slightly different for members (citizens in this case) and for non-members (non-citizens, including slaves).
Still, Rome as a city and an evolving nation somehow survived without having dedicated officers enforcing their laws. It doesn’t really seem possible, but the Roman legal system allowed for the exercise of what we would today call a citizen’s arrest. In other words, if I see you stealing my urine jug (don’t laugh, urine was collected and used to wash clothing amongst other things—look it up!), if I can catch you—careful not to let the jug spill on me—and convey you to a magistrate, I can see justice done under the law.
While Charles Bronson would no doubt approve of such a system, it’s not hard to see how this can, over time, become a problem. What’s the best way to avoid being apprehended by some intended victim or interested passerby? Simple, just gather together a group of thugs and commit your crimes in a group. So, while the movie Gangs of New York helped make Leonardo DiCaprio famous, the gangs of Rome slowly took over all illicit and even some legitimate functions across the city.
You paid protection to the local gang, who in turn acted to enforce the laws—among other things. Now, depending on the time period and the severity of the trespass, enforcement could take the form of simple escort to the local magistrate for an above-the-board trial, or it could result in the criminal being “taken care of” in a Mafia-esque manner with subsequent “dirt naps” and “sleeping with fishes” to follow as a direct result.
So, cast the anything-goes, hyper-ambitious Roman political game into that type of legal framework and social context and it shouldn’t surprise anyone that chaos, mob rule, and eventually civil war all but burned the republic to the ground. To gauge just how bad the situation in Rome had become, all it takes is an understanding how readily the citizens of an empire in all but name, with 500 years of democratic experience, accepted and even welcomed the stability provided by an emperor, a single, authoritative ruler with absolute power over the senate and people of Rome. I can’t state strongly enough how much this represents a SIGNIFICANT change in political outlook! It would be as if the U.S. in 2020 suddenly adopted communism—or even monarchy—as its new guiding philosophy. It’s all but inconceivable!
It seems that without a capable police force, there was nothing standing between the average citizen and Rome’s criminal element. Nothing to offer as counter to the use of military force to secure peace and security amongst one’s own populace. No organization to challenge the political use of organized criminal enterprises for the sake of gaining and maintaining political power. An organized, well-regulated and disciplined police force does all of that and more.
So, with all this in mind, it’s not a sense of dread or fear that makes me look around for a police presence. It’s really more of a consciousness that we have officers dedicated to upholding our laws, doing their best to ensure that we all live, work, and traverse in and through safe environments. I don’t envy them their duty as any action (or inaction) is likely to draw criticism from the very citizenry they’re sworn to protect, and that can’t make it easy to get up in the morning. Still, they do it and do it every day and I find myself—on a rare trip back to the States—appreciative for all they accomplish in the name of defending our Republic.
Still—and please forgive how my brain works—I just can’t help wondering what the radio code would have been for a broken urine jar … and who gets to put THAT evidence into the plastic baggie?
M.G. Haynes