Latest / Nero: Mad Tyrant or Misunderstood Emperor? — Fexingo History / Nero's Olympic Games: Art, Sport and Propaganda in Greece
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've covered a lot of Nero's building projects, his foreign policy with Parthia, even his obsession with Egypt. But there's one aspect of his reign that blends his love of art, his need for propaganda, and his sheer theatricality: his participation in the Olympic Games. Luna: Wait, Nero actually competed in the Olympics? I thought that was beneath a Roman emperor? Lucas: That's exactly what makes it so fascinating. In 66 AD, Nero set off on a grand tour of Greece. He wasn't just sightseeing—he wanted to compete in the sacred games. And not just the Olympics: he entered the Isthmian Games, the Pythian Games, the Nemean Games, and even instituted his own festival called the Neronia. Luna: The Neronia? That sounds like a self-titled festival. Lucas: Exactly. But it wasn't just vanity. Nero was a genuine philhellene—he loved Greek culture, art, and music. He saw himself as an artist, and Greece was the birthplace of that identity. By competing and winning, he was literally inserting himself into the Greek cultural tradition. But there was a political angle too: he announced at the Isthmian Games that he was granting freedom to the province of Achaia—basically all of mainland Greece—freeing them from Roman taxes and governors. Luna: That's a huge deal. But didn't later emperors reverse that? Lucas: They did. Vespasian reversed it, calling the Greeks 'ungrateful' or something. But at the time, it was a massive propaganda coup. Greece was steeped in history, and Nero was casting himself as a new liberator. But the games themselves—that's where things get messy. Luna: What happened? I've heard he fell off his chariot or something. Lucas: Yes, at the Olympics of 67 AD, Nero competed in the ten-horse chariot race. Now, ten-horse chariots were notoriously hard to handle—usually they used two or four horses. Nero was thrown from his chariot and didn't finish the race. But the judges still awarded him the victory on the grounds that he would have won if he'd finished. Luna: Wait, really? So he won by default? That's… embarrassing. Lucas: It gets worse. He also entered competitions as a herald, a tragic actor, and a cithara player. Now, the cithara was a kind of lyre, and Nero fancied himself a great musician. But the rules of the games were strict: competitors had to perform on the spot. Nero had his own pieces prepared, but he was reportedly nervous. Suetonius says that he was so terrified of the judges that he bribed them heavily beforehand. Luna: So he bought his Olympic victories? That doesn't sound very sporting. Lucas: It's not clear how much was outright bribery versus the natural deference of Greek officials to a Roman emperor. But Nero's wins were widely mocked by later Roman historians. Tacitus, Suetonius, Cassius Dio—they all paint it as a farce. However, we have to remember that these historians were hostile to Nero. The Greek cities themselves may have been genuinely honored by his participation. Luna: I suppose having the emperor visit your city was a big deal. Did he visit many places? Lucas: He toured extensively. He visited Delphi, where he performed at the Pythian Games. He also tried to dig a canal through the Isthmus of Corinth—a project that had been attempted before. He supposedly started the work with a golden pickaxe, but it was abandoned after his death. The canal wasn't completed until the 19th century. Luna: A golden pickaxe? That's so Nero. Lucas: And of course, there's the story of him declaring that the Greeks alone knew how to appreciate his talents. He said something like, 'Only the Greeks are worthy of my art.' That's a direct quote from Suetonius. But it also ties into his broader self-image: he wasn't just an emperor, he was a performer. Luna: But surely the Roman elite saw this as beneath the dignity of an emperor? Lucas: Absolutely. The Roman aristocracy had a deep suspicion of Greek culture, even as they admired it. They saw public performance as something for slaves and freedmen, not for the emperor. Nero's obsession with the stage was a huge scandal. There were even rumors that he wanted to move the capital to Alexandria or Greece. Luna: Did he actually say that? Lucas: Suetonius claims so, but it's probably an exaggeration. What's certain is that Nero's Greek tour was a high point for him personally. He returned to Rome in triumph, bringing back thousands of crowns and statues. But the financial cost was enormous—he had essentially bankrupted the imperial treasury by lavishing gifts on Greek cities. Luna: So was it all just vanity, or was there a strategy? Lucas: I think it's both. Nero genuinely loved Greek culture—he wrote poetry, he sang, he acted. But he also understood that the Greek East was a huge part of the empire. By winning the games and granting freedom, he was building a power base beyond Rome. The problem was that it alienated the Roman elite, who saw him as a frivolous tyrant. Luna: And then of course, the revolt in Gaul happened soon after. Lucas: Exactly. Vindex, Galba, the whole chain of events that led to Nero's downfall. But the Greek tour and the Olympic participation are a perfect window into Nero's personality: the blend of artistry, insecurity, and imperial power. He wanted to be both a Roman emperor and a Greek hero, and in the end, he couldn't satisfy either role. Luna: It's a fascinating contrast: the emperor who wanted to be an artist, vs. the historians who made him a monster. Lucas: And that's really the takeaway. The games show us that Nero was a complex figure, not just a caricature of madness. He was a man who, for all his flaws, tried to reshape the empire in his own image—and paid the price for it.