‘Ambition’. A thoroughly admirable quality as the Romans saw it. In fact they invented the word. Its origins are revealing.

‘Ambitio’, the Latin original, had a very particular sense. It was derived from a Latin verb, ‘ambire’ which literally meant ‘to go about or around something’. It could, for example, be used to mean ‘encompass’ or ‘encircle’.

But it was also used to describe the activity of Roman politicians in the run-up to elections. Anyone running for office would ‘go around’ Rome, glad-handing voters in an effort to drum up support. (There’s another etymological link here incidentally. Those running for office were known as ‘candidati’ because they wore sparkling white togas to draw attention to themselves and the Latin word for a dazzling white is ‘candidus’. It is, obviously, the origin of the word ‘candidate’.)

Now interestingly the Latin word for ‘bribery’ was ‘ambitus’, a noun derived from the same verb, ‘ambire’. The Romans recognised that their fierce pursuit of individual glory left their political world always poised on a knife-edge between the acceptable and excessive, the legal and the illegal, and that fact was reflected in their language. It was a little etymological joke.

At the centre of their political culture was the giving of gifts. It’s a truism that the Roman people relinquished any real political influence in exchange for the gifts of ‘Bread and Circuses’. And all potential politicians were expected to be lavish with such giving. (Indeed one Roman wit suggested that anyone who wished to climb the greasy pole of politics had to be able to lay claim to at least three separate fortunes: the first so that you could bribe the people to elect you to the governorship of a rich province; the second so that you could bribe the jury when that province accused you of extortion; and the third actually to live on in comfortable retirement.)

Inevitably the line between legitimate ambition and bribery, between ‘ambitio’ and ‘ambitus’, was fine to say the least. As long as you were discrete and obeyed the unwritten rules you could probably get away with any number of handouts, and even those who were brought to book in court hardly faced severe penalties. (That second fortune again.)

After all while politicians were constantly bribing the people, they, at least the more powerful among them, were also bribing the politicians back. ‘Gifts’ were the oil that greased the machine in ancient Rome. It’s completely different now of course.

The unwritten rules of receiving gifts were neatly summarized by a Roman Emperor, (he of the famous and well-preserved public baths), Caracalla. He advised that one should take care to take ‘neither everything, nor every time, nor from everyone’. Very pragmatic. And by both parties, perfectly understood.

A far bigger problem for either party was taking and then not appearing to give back. This was an unforgiveable violation. One particular story exemplifies this.

One Verconius Turinus was attached to the court of the Emperor Septimius Severus, (he of the famous and well-preserved arch in the Forum.) He took immense sums from lobbyists who believed, because Turinus told them, that he had Septimius wrapped around his finger.

That was not the case and when word got to Septimius he had a fake lobbyist approach Turinus who duly took the bait. The Emperor, and all those Turinus had deceived, were present in the Forum when the fraudster got his come-uppance. He was tied to a stake under which was set a fire of wet logs and straw. Turinus suffocated in the smoke.

This was because the Latin term for feigning influence one did not possess was ‘fumum vendere’, or ‘selling smoke’.

They liked their etymological jokes those Romans.