Latest / Nero: Mad Tyrant or Misunderstood Emperor? — Fexingo History / Nero's Olympic Games: The Emperor Who Bought Victory
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Nero's artistic side, his music, his singing, even his poetry. But there's one arena where he really went all in — and I don't mean the Colosseum. I mean the Olympic Games. Luna: Wait, Nero competed in the Olympics? I thought Romans looked down on Greek athletics. Lucas: They did, generally. But Nero was never one to follow the rules. In 67 AD, during his famous tour of Greece, he showed up at Olympia and basically staged his own personal victory lap. He entered not one, not two, but ten events — the chariot race, the ten-horse chariot, the singing contest, the tragedy competition, even the herald contest. And he won every single one of them. Luna: Every single one? That seems... suspicious. Lucas: Oh, it's beyond suspicious. He bribed the judges, the Hellanodikai, with a massive sum — some say a million sesterces — and he also conveniently added new events that didn't traditionally exist, like a special singing category for emperors. The Greeks, who were eager to curry favor, didn't object. They even moved the games from their usual summer slot to match Nero's schedule, so he could perform. Luna: That's... wow. But I thought the Olympics were sacred, you know, for Zeus and all that. Lucas: They were. But Nero had a way of bending sacred traditions to his will. He also had a habit of showing up late or even mid-race. At one point, he fell out of his chariot and was nearly killed. But he still got the crown. The judges basically declared him winner anyway. Luna: So he didn't even finish the race? And he won? Lucas: Exactly. And it wasn't just the chariot. He also performed in the music contests, which were part of the Olympic program back then. He sang his own compositions, accompanying himself on the lyre, and the audience — mostly Roman soldiers and a few claques he'd brought along — applauded on cue. The Greeks in the crowd, who actually knew music, were reportedly horrified. But they knew better than to boo. Luna: Horrified but silent. Classic. Lucas: And here's the thing — this wasn't just vanity. Nero was making a political statement. By winning at Olympia, he was positioning himself as the heir to Greek civilization, a philhellene emperor who deserved to be celebrated in the heart of the Greek world. He even proclaimed the freedom of Greece — abolishing the province's governor and restoring nominal self-rule. Of course, it was a symbolic gesture, but it played well. Luna: So he used the Olympics as propaganda. Lucas: Absolutely. And he went all in. He had a grand parade when he returned to Rome, carrying his ten victory crowns in a procession that rivaled a triumph. His victory was even carved into coins and monuments. But the Roman elite, and later historians like Suetonius and Cassius Dio, mocked him mercilessly. To them, it was the height of un-Roman behavior — performing in public, competing like a common athlete. Luna: So they saw it as degrading. Lucas: Yes. Roman aristocrats might enjoy Greek culture, but they were not supposed to perform. That was for slaves and entertainers. By doing so, Nero not only embarrassed the Senate — he also undermined the dignity of the imperial office. And yet, in the Greek world, he was genuinely celebrated. Some cities even set up statues of him as an Olympic champion. So it's a fascinating split between how the Romans and the Greeks viewed him. Luna: I mean, it's kind of amazing that he got away with it, though. Lucas: He got away with it because he was the emperor. And because the games had already been losing their prestige. By the first century AD, the Olympics were no longer the pure amateur contests of the classical era. Professional athletes dominated, cities sponsored rivalries, and corruption was rampant. So Nero's antics, as scandalous as they were, weren't entirely out of step with the times. Luna: That's a good point. It wasn't just him — the whole system was bending. Lucas: Exactly. And there's also a practical angle. Nero needed the support of the Greek provinces, especially after the Pisonian conspiracy and the fire of Rome. By showering them with games and honors, he was securing his base. And while the senators back home sneered, the Greeks genuinely appreciated it. They even invited him to compete again in the next games, which he did — but then he died before he could go back. Luna: So his Olympic glory didn't outlast him. Lucas: No, it didn't. After his death, the Greeks quickly erased his name from the victory lists, and the games reverted to their normal schedule. The only lasting legacy might be the new events he introduced, like the ten-horse chariot — which history seems to have forgotten. But for a brief moment in 67 AD, the Olympic Games were the stage for one of the most bizarre and theatrical imperial performances Rome ever saw. Luna: It's like the original 'reality TV emperor'. Lucas: Ha, that's a good way to put it. And it was all part of his larger vision of himself as a divinely inspired artist and world conqueror. You know, it's funny — if today was actually useful to you, the way these stay ad-free is listener support. If you've been stepping into history with us episode by episode, you can keep it going by buying us a coffee — that's buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Luna: Yeah, that really helps us keep going. And it lets us keep exploring these strange corners of the past. Lucas: So, to bring it back — Nero's Olympic moment was a perfect storm of imperial ego and political calculation. He used the games to project an image of a new Nero, a bringer of peace and culture. But as with so much of his reign, the reality was messier, more corrupt, and more theatrical than the image. And in the end, it contributed to his downfall. Luna: How so? Lucas: His obsession with the games and his public performances helped alienate the Roman establishment. The senators saw him as a tyrant who acted more like a Greek tyrant than a Roman princeps. And when rebellions broke out in 68 AD, the provinces didn't rally to him. They rallied to Galba, a general who embodied the austere Roman ideal. So in a way, his Olympic victories were a symbol of everything that went wrong. Luna: So his glory at Olympia was also his undoing. Lucas: In a sense. But it also shows how something we think of as pure — the Olympic spirit — could be bent to serve imperial power. And that's a lesson that echoes through history, right up to the modern games, where politics and nationalism often overshadow the athletes. Nero was just an early example. Luna: I'll never look at the Olympics the same way again. Lucas: Maybe that's the point. When we look at the past, we see that everything, even the sacred, can be politicized. And Nero, for all his faults, was a master at that. So next time you watch a gold medal ceremony, think of Nero singing his heart out in the sacred grove of Olympia, and maybe chuckle a little.