Latest / Nero: Mad Tyrant or Misunderstood Emperor? — Fexingo History / Nero's Greek Dream: Freedom and Farce at the Isthmian Games
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've covered a lot of Nero's reign — the fire, the conspiracy, the coinage, even his Olympic cheating. But there's one episode that really captures the weird blend of genuine passion and political desperation that defined his later years. Luna: The Greek tour? Lucas: Exactly. In 67 AD, Nero did something no Roman emperor had ever done — he traveled to Greece, performed at every major festival, and then, at the Isthmian Games in Corinth, he declared the entire province of Achaea free from Roman tribute and taxation. It was a massive deal. Luna: Free as in independent? Lucas: Not quite independent in a modern sense — it was still part of the empire — but he restored what the Greeks called eleutheria, the freedom to govern themselves without a Roman governor or tax collectors. He even abolished the office of the proconsul of Achaea. And he made this announcement in person, at the same games where, centuries earlier, Flamininus had declared Greek freedom after the Second Macedonian War. Luna: That's a pretty loaded parallel. Lucas: You know, it's funny — we spend all this time digging into episodes like this, and I'm always struck by how much work goes into each one. A handful of listeners chip in monthly through buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo, and that's literally what funds making this many of these. It keeps us ad-free and lets us go deep on things like Nero's Greek adventure. Luna: Yeah, it's a small group that makes it possible. And we really appreciate it — means we can keep doing episodes on these niche but fascinating topics. Lucas: So back to Nero in Greece. He arrived in the autumn of 66 AD, after wrapping up the Armenian settlement. He was accompanied by a huge entourage, including his freedman Acratus — a name that'll come up again — and he spent the next fifteen months touring the great sanctuaries and festivals. Luna: Fifteen months? That's a long vacation for an emperor. Lucas: It was more than a vacation. He entered competitions in the Olympian, Pythian, Isthmian, and Nemean games — but the problem is, he didn't just compete. He forced the officials to add special categories, like a chariot race with ten horses, which he then failed to finish but still won. Suetonius says he was awarded 1,808 first-place crowns in total. The Greeks were flattered, but also humiliated. Luna: So it was a farce? Lucas: Partly, but there's a genuine side too. Nero was a passionate philhellene — he spoke Greek, he admired Greek art and culture, and he seems to have sincerely believed in the mission of bringing Greek civilisation to Rome. The liberation decree, which we know from an inscription found at Acraephia in Boeotia, is written in a very grand style. It talks about restoring Greece to its ancient glory, and it's addressed to the Panhellenion, the league of Greek cities. It wasn't just a whim; it was a carefully staged performance. Luna: Wait, the actual text survives? Lucas: Yes, a copy of the decree was set up in the temple of Apollo at Acraephia, and it was discovered in the 19th century. It's a remarkable document — it lists Nero's titles, the date, and the exact wording of his proclamation. It says: 'I grant to the Greeks, without exception, their freedom, which not even in their happiest days did they ever enjoy.' He also remitted all taxes and abolished the customs dues at the ports. The local response was ecstatic — they even erected statues of Nero as Zeus the Liberator. Luna: How did Rome react? Lucas: Badly. The senatorial elite saw it as an insult — Greece was supposed to be a conquered province, not a privileged ally. There were whispers that Nero was abandoning Rome's traditional role as master of the Mediterranean. And more practically, the loss of tax revenue from Achaea was significant. The treasury was already strained from Nero's building projects, like the Domus Aurea. His advisor Acratus, who had orchestrated much of the tour, was a freedman, which also rankled the aristocracy. Luna: So it was a political miscalculation. Lucas: Hugely. Within a year, in March 68 AD, Gaius Julius Vindex, the governor of Gallia Lugdunensis, revolted. He was of Gallic royal descent, but he rallied support by denouncing Nero as a 'bad citharode' — a bad lyre player — and calling for a new emperor who would restore Roman dignity. Vindex's revolt was crushed by loyalist forces, but it sparked a chain reaction. Galba in Spain declared for the Senate, and the Praetorian Guard abandoned Nero. In June 68, Nero fled Rome and committed suicide. Luna: So the Greek tour directly contributed to his downfall? Lucas: Indirectly, yes. It alienated the Senate, drained resources, and made him look like a frivolous artist rather than a serious ruler. But there's another layer: after Nero's death, the Greek freedom didn't last. The emperor Vespasian, who came to power in 69 AD, revoked the grant. He reportedly said that the Greeks had forgotten how to be free — that they needed a firm hand. So Nero's grand gesture was reversed within two years. Luna: That's almost tragic. A sincere act, but doomed. Lucas: It's a perfect example of the Nero paradox. Was he a visionary who saw the empire as a commonwealth of cultures, or a narcissist who used his power to indulge his ego? The truth is probably both. The Greek cities remembered him fondly for centuries — there were still Nero cults in the east as late as the 2nd century. But in Rome, he was a monster. The liberation of Greece was real, but it was also a performance. And performances, no matter how grand, don't always hold up against political reality.