are we there yet?

Now that predator drone attacks have become Obama's murder weapon of choice, it's worth asking whether he's a reluctant or an enthusiastic terrorist. He's obviously a prisoner of his own military when it comes to deciding what wars to pursue and how, but naturally keeps his feelings about his servile status hidden from public view.

The predator drone aircraft firing hellfire missiles at people on the ground these days along the Pakistan-Afghan border and in Yemen is the perfect weapon for our timid president. It's a cowardly, ignoble, and anonymous sort of killing machine, supposedly aimed at al-Qaida higher-ups, but invariably it mostly wipes out civilians.

What would happen if Obama said "No" to these degrading drone sorties? What would happen if he said "No" to the war in Afghanistan, and our growing military involvement in other places in the Muslim world such as Yemen and Somalia? The historical example of the emperor Pertinax might help us answer that question.

Publius Helvius Pertinax was a virtuous but severe Roman soldier who acceded to the throne of the Empire in late 192, 200 years after the death of the Roman Republic. Humbly born but distinguished by superior merit and toughness, Pertinax rose through the ranks of the army, and served as governor of the far-flung provinces of Syria and Britain as well as two other lesser known places. His career was marked by his honest and incorruptible administration, informed by the personal qualities of discipline and humility, and though a product of the Empire he seems to have looked for his role models to the greatest and most illustrious leaders of the long-vanished republic. In the decade of the 180's he became one of the leaders of the Senate.

We learn from the Historia Augusta that Pertinax fell victim to political intrigue when the praetorian prefect (commander of the troops stationed in Rome, the Praetorian Guard) Sextus Tigidius Perennis forced him out of public life. He was recalled after three years to Britain, whose army at the time was in a state of mutiny. He tried to quell the unruly soldiers there but one legion mutinied and attacked his bodyguard, leaving Pertinax for dead. When he recovered, he punished the mutineers severely which led to his growing reputation as a disciplinarian. When he was forced to resign in 187, the reason given was that the legions had grown hostile to him because of his harsh rule. This series of events foreshadowed his end, but was forgotten when he returned to hold the highest offices in Rome once more, including the consulship, at the end of the 180's.

Upon the violent death of Commodus, the degenerate and corrupted son of Marcus Aurelius whose worthless life was snuffed out by a palace plot, Pertinax found himself named Emperor by the Praetorian Guard, who had long since usurped that prerogative from the Senate. The new emperor was expected to give a large "donative," or gift, or more bluntly, bribe to these "service" men, who from the end of the first century C.E. increasingly held the state hostage. But when he discovered the treasury was nearly empty thanks to the personal excesses of his predecessor, and being the sort of administrator who by natural inclination found corruption and bribery repugnant, Pertinax refused to come across with the cash. Edward Gibbon sums up the short reign of Pertinax with the well-balanced observation that "A hasty zeal to reform the corrupted state, accompanied with less prudence than might have been expected from the years and experience of Pertinax, proved fatal to himself and to his country." When the Praetorians realized they were not going to get their usual payoff from the tough old soldier, 300 of them rushed the palace gates and unceremoniously killed him. His reign had lasted 86 days.

Following the death of Pertinax, the Praetorians overestimated their power over the government and managed to insult what little pride that degenerated and dissipated generation of Romans had left, by selling the emperorship to the highest bidder. It was purchased by a rich businessman, Didius Julianus, whose short reign likewise ended violently, and set off a train of events generally referred to as the Year of Five Emperors.

Would Barack Obama meet a premature end if he refused to go along with the Pentagon's unstated policy of perpetual war? Would he have some sort of accident? We'll never know, for Obama possesses neither the spine nor the heart for such a confrontation. But someday before too long, someone will, and then we'll find out whether our own Praetorian Guard is still under the control of the civilian authorities, or whether, like the Romans on the eve of the third century C.E., our ass now belongs to them.