Senator Incitatus

Andrew called me up the other day from Washington. He caught me on the way to dinner with his father, the Ambassador to France. We were due to meet at the Bistro Melrose near Place Clingancourt.

Andrew had spent the day on the floor of the senate "wondering what had become of democracy."

He said that he had had a sudden revelation which helped him make sense of the current state of American politics. "The trouble is," he began, "we're all thinking 1776 and the idealism of the early Republic. Our current foreign policy, economic policy and domestic policy doesn't fit well with that.

"What we should be thinking is 'Roman Empire.' If you look at the action of the government, at home and abroad, you realize that the prime business of everyone in government is to remain in government. This ranges from the Supreme Court to the girl who does the photocopying in the Bureau of Printing and Engraving.

"If you think of Claudius, Caligula, Nero, Galba, Otho and that lot, it makes a lot more sense," Andrew continued. "Things should settle down again when we get to our equivalent of Vespasian."

"So do we have a Senator Incitatus?" I asked.

Ah! Here was something he didn't know.

"That was Caligula's horse," he said after a moment. "The only female senator of the Roman Empire."

This talk of horses wasn't doing much for my appetite, knowing how it turned up with regularity on French menus. The idea of tucking into a senator was even less appealing.

"I want the central plank of my presidential election platform to be that as president, I am completely replaceable," Andrew declared. "There's a succession of about fifty people, and it took a lot of Congressional time to sort it out. It would be a pity if it never got tried out."

"Wouldn't that take a nuclear attack?" I asked with some shock, trying to dress while holding the phone.

"No, just food poisoning at some dreadful state dinner."