I was reading about former New York City and candidate for the Democratic nod in the Presidential contest, Michael Bloomberg, in WaPo:
Which brings us to Super Tuesday, on March 3. That’s the first date on which Bloomberg will be on ballots, thanks to his late entry into the 2020 race and his unorthodox strategy of spurning the first four states. He has gambled that he doesn’t need the “momentum” that candidates covet from those early states, perhaps in part because his lavishly self-funded campaign doesn’t need the money that usually comes with it. He’s also betting that not even trying in those four states will help him avoid the kind of potentially negative narrative that Biden is confronting. It’s a novel strategy, but if anyone could pull it off, it would be a mega-billionaire like Bloomberg.
So can he? Super Tuesday will be make-or-break for Bloomberg, no doubt — as it will be pretty much for everyone else. That’s because 14 states are holding contests, and about 1 out of every 3 delegates is at stake. As the other candidates have focused on Iowa and New Hampshire, Bloomberg has blanketed these other states with ads and hired unheard-of amounts of staff in them. The combined investment so far is more than a quarter-billion dollars.
And a historical comparison struck me: Is he the next Didius Julianus?
I can see my readers slapping themselves upside the head in surprise, but for those few who don’t remember their Roman Empire history, here’s the Wikipedia take on him:
Didius Julianus (/ˈdɪdiəs/; Latin: Marcus Didius Severus Julianus Augustus; born 30 January 133 or 2 February 137 – 1 June 193) was the emperor of Rome for nine weeks from March to June 193, during the Year of the Five Emperors.
Julianus had a promising political career, governing several provinces, including Dalmatia and Germania Inferior, and successfully defeating the Chauci and Chatti, two invading Germanic tribes. He was even appointed to the consulship in 175 along with Pertinax as a reward, before being demoted by Commodus. After this demotion, his early, promising political career languished.
He ascended the throne after buying it from the Praetorian Guard, who had assassinated his predecessor Pertinax. A civil war ensued in which three rival generals laid claim to the imperial throne. Septimius Severus, commander of the legions in Pannonia and the nearest of the generals to Rome, marched on the capital, gathering support along the way and routing cohorts of the Praetorian Guard Didius Julianus sent to meet him.
Abandoned by the Senate and the Praetorian Guard, Julianus was killed by a soldier in the palace and succeeded by Severus.
Buying yourself the Emperor’s throne isn’t quite the same as the Presidency, but the parallels are undeniably present.
But what does it mean?
If it’s Hue has a sense of the ridiculous, that’s OK. I can live with it.
