Trump: The Odious Commodus
While Trump was gaffing it up in Rome, I couldn’t help but think of a certain horrid emperor of antiquity
Seeing Donald Trump in Rome attending the funeral of Pope Francis, many were angered by his loutish flouting of customary mourning attire (“Sleepy Don” in his usual ill-fitting blue suit, with a shiny light blue tie). But since that was so unsurprising, I found my mind diverted to thoughts of the ancient emperors — one in particular.
Some time back, I wrote a piece about how Donald Trump’s awful McDiet might be helping fry our democracy. In the piece, I made glancing reference to the Roman emperor Commodus of antiquity as a joke about how appropriate the name was to the present-day Commodus in the U.S. White House who complains endlessly about showers and, well, toilets.
As you likely know, the term commode stood in earlier centuries for various kinds of elaborate curved chest of drawers or sideboards one would find in a drawing room, and then was also used to describe washstands in which a chamber pot was often hidden. In American parlance, especially in the South, it came to represent a flush toilet. Way down South in Mar-a-Lago, it stands for weakly flushing toilets, toilets you have to flush many times, toilets occasionally surrounded by box after box of official documents.
Let’s pause here to note that one ought to pity any commode that this Commodus rode.
I read a bit more about the young and altogether vile Commodus, who reigned from 180–192 AD, and the parallels with the aging and altogether vile Commodus Odious go far beyond the scatological joke about the name.
It is said that the Roman Commodus ended the Pax Romana, a golden age of Roman expansion and relative peace and order lasting two centuries.
Today’s Commodus, whom we might give the decidedly non-honorific title of Belligeranus, has ended what might be called the Pax Europa, the post-World War II alliances with the United States that have kept European peace for 80 years and helped make the United States incredibly prosperous. Because he worries incessantly about what is best for Russia, he is no fan of NATO and has scuttled trade and diplomatic relations with all our historic allies.
In his youth, the original Commodus served in the military with his father, the good Emperor Marcus Aurelius. It is said that Commodus received the victory title of Germanicus for his participation in the Marcomannic Wars.
Commodus Dodgerus got a physician’s note about his foot to avoid serving in the military. The present-day tyrant bears what might be called the “loser titles” of Germaphobus, because he’s hella scared of microbes, and Cadet Bone Spurs, for the above-mentioned reason.
It should be noted that the Commodus of antiquity was seen by a truly legitimate physician of his times, Galen, a master of anatomy, medicine and philosophy.
Commodus Cloggus (obstructed in body, mind, and soul) is never seen by a real physician — at least not one who is free to tell the truth about his condition. Thus, we get absurd pronouncements that he is unbelievably fit and active and weighs only so many stones and wins golf tournaments and thus has a strong heart and a great soul.
As soon as he ascended to emperor, upon the death of his father in 180, Commodus immediately devalued the Roman currency, the denarius.
Upon taking office, Commodus Tariffus almost instantly caused the U.S. dollar to drop in value against other world currencies, and his chaotic administration has seriously damaged the dollar’s chance to remain the world’s reserve currency.
Though the history is sketchy, it is written that Commodus delegated the day-to-day operations of his government to others and was soon hated and feared by the Senatorial Order. He entertained the people at massive rallies by slaughtering animals and “fighting” gladiators. But the gladiators were forced to submit to him — sort of like phony wrestling of today but with actual death at the end.
Commodus Co-Presidentus assembled a ludicrous Cabinet of billionaires and spends much of his time away from the capital, pleased to be wasting tens of millions of taxpayer dollars to lollygag around his estates and cheat at golf.
Because of his desire to appear “manly,” Commodus had statues of himself depicted as Hercules erected throughout the empire, medallions as well.
Commodus Griftus sells his cult followers digital trading cards that depict him as Superman and other action heroes and thinks it would be a good idea to have his image carved into the side of a mountain because he insists that he is one of the greatest presidents ever. (N.B., American historians said he is the very worst but that it’s best not to mention it to him).
In the last year of his life, Commodus took to claiming that he was the new Romulus, the founder of “a new Rome,” and renamed the city Colonia Lucia Annia Commodiana. He also renamed the twelve months of the year to correspond to the dozen names he had bestowed upon himself.
Commodus Cheatus has displayed his god-like powers in various ways: redrawing a hurricane map with a Sharpie, creating NFTs and meme-coin idols of himself and insisting that everyone agree to use his new name for the Gulf of Mexico.
To tighten his control of his subjects, the Emperor Commodus renamed the people Commodianus, which is just kind of hilarious.
Commodus Felonus recast his followers as “my fans” and then the MAGA faithful. He instructed them repeatedly that he was their “favorite president” and frequently encouraged them to violent acts that he could later disavow.
After the death of Commodus (he was strangled by his wrestler Narcissus at the behest of his concubine Marcia after she tried to poison him — I’m not making this stuff up!), the Senate declared him to have been an enemy of the people, took down the statues, and restored the name of the city.
So, there’s a sketch of the parallels between the two Commodi, brothers separated by eighteen centuries but not by their deeply ignoble and megalomaniacal natures. (Jim Sleeper wrote a longer, more serious piece for Salon likening the American wannabe autocrat to the Roman Emperor Augustus — while Alexander Stille in The New Republic convincingly argues he is more akin to Mussolini — but I’m only being slightly unserious here, bringing up Commodus as another awful alternative parallel.)
One more pertinent parallel: Here in AD 2025, we also cannot count on our Senate (which hereafter ought to be known as the Senate Sycophants) to do anything to stop Commodus Fascistus until he is gone from the scene (some time back, I helpfully suggested that exile was the only remaining option for a civilized people).
Francis had Trump’s number, as does most of the world. And so do most of us.
