Real Men Wear Dignitas

Language nuggets plucked from the pages of history

Jun 04, 2025

Cari amici,

I’m halfway through Mary Beard’s SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome, having not read a word of it during my two weeks of travel in May. (I always think I’m going to read and write while traveling, but no. When will I give up this misguided belief?) The book bristles with sticky notes flagging trivia, reveals about who did what to whom and why, details about historical events I never even knew happened, and, for our purposes today, plenty of etymology and historical context to delight language nerds. And that’s what we are, right? So let’s dig in.

An aside: You may be wondering if another post about the legal insanity going on with the new Italian citizenship law and related matters is forthcoming. It is, as soon as I’m caught up with post-travel life well enough to wrap my head around what is a very complex scenario. Plus there’s an important event coming up on June 24 that may be relevant. Anyway, I’ll get to it.

NB: All terms/words-as-words are in italics. Anything in quotes was lifted verbatim from Beard’s text. In some cases I supplemented the book’s info with details from Wikipedia and other sites.

What the heck does SPQR stand for, anyway?

You see those four letters all over Rome, on everything from monuments to manhole covers: SPQR, which stands for Senatus Populusque Romanus (the Senate and People of Rome). How very official. Basically it’s an identity stamp that says “THIS IS MINE!” However, I prefer the jokey meaning that originated in a French comic (widely translated into Italian) called Asterix: sono pazzi questi romani (these Romans are crazy).

Rome’s origin story

You’ve all heard the story of Romulus and Remus, abandoned twin brothers who were suckled by a wolf and grew up to become the founders of Rome? The historian Livy,1 skeptical that a couple of babies could have been reared by a wolf, however well intentioned, thought their real savior might have been a prostitute. Why? Because the Latin word for wolf, lupa, just so happened to be a colloquial term for whore. (Lupanare was a widely accepted term for a brothel; in Pompeii you can visit a lupanare whose walls are decorated with erotica.)

A Latin euphemism courtesy of Cicero

The Latin vixere means they have lived, which is how Cicero,2 orator and poet that he was, referred to some conspirators he had put to death. They have lived is so much more graceful and benign than They’re dead, no?

Who was who

The official title of the pope was, and still is, pontifex (pontiff), which derives from a priesthood title created by an early king of Rome, Numa Pompilius.3 Singlehandedly or nearly so, as the story goes, he created the entire structure of Roman religion and institutions, including the cult of the Vestal Virgins. Fun fact: he also expanded the Roman calendar from 10 months to 12, adding January and February.

The word rex is pretty universally understood to mean king—but did you know it became a “term of loathing in Roman politics” at the end of the monarchy period in 509 BC, when Rome first became a republic? Hmm. Seems like it’s still a term of loathing in certain circles today.

Speaking of republics, the word republic comes from the Latin res publica, meaning “public thing or public affairs.”

When you time-travel to ancient Rome you’ll want to know your titles, both political and social, so pay attention.

Praetor was a title for the highest state official, though later the term referred to a junior official, below the consuls. The consuls (always two of them; from the Latin consule, meaning “those who decide together”) were the highest-ranked officials.
The Latin term dictator hasn’t changed over time, but its meaning has. Long before it developed its current negative connotation, dictator referred to a powerful but temporary ruler, given his position in a time of military emergency.
Men who owned property were called assidui; men without property were proletarii. An ex-slave was a libertus. (Freedom could, in some cases—if you were a gladiator or charioteer, for example—be purchased.)

Governmental/geographic designations

In ancient Rome, imperium could mean empire as we now understand it, but it had a slightly gentler meaning too: “the power to issue orders that are obeyed.”

Provincia (province), which now indicates a geographical subdivision of a government, once meant “a responsibility assigned to Roman officials,” which were often military or administrative duties outside of Rome (for example, in Sicily, Sardinia, or Spain). By the 70s BC, both imperium and provincia were being used regularly in a geographical sense, to mean what empire and province do today.

Social standing and practices

From the Latin ordo, meaning social rank, we get the English word order. Speaking of which, the plebeians were the non-patricians; that is, they weren’t wealthy, powerful, upper-class landowners. The government understood that the plebeians’ hands were often tied, though, and in 494 BC official representatives were assigned to defend their interests; the representatives were called tribune plebis (tribunes of the people).

Salutatio was the Roman practice of “clients and dependents paying a morning call on their patrons,” which involved so much fawning and flattery that they might as well have kissed the patrons’ feet (or another body part).

The phrase bread and circuses comes from the Latin panem et circenses, coined by Juvenal, a satirist in the first century AD. According to Beard, his words were “a brilliant dismissal of the limited horizons of the urban rabble,” who were typically satisfied by the chariot races and food handouts that the emperors provided to preempt any public unrest.

What made a man

The Latin virtus could have meant virtue in the modern sense, but it often “referred to a collection of qualities that defined a man (vir).” Essentially, in Roman times, virtus meant manliness.

On the flip side of manliness we find the term mollitia, which referred to a softness of character that Romans abhorred. For example, they claimed that Greek sophistication was merely a sign of weakness, which is why in the second century BC someone proposed that construction of a Greek-style theater, in which audiences sat for performances, should be halted and a Roman one, which traditionally included no seats, be built instead. Cue the macho posturing! Real men stand; weaklings sit! (The related Italian word is mollezza, meaning softness, flaccidness.)

But real men (real men!) “wore” dignitas, which Beard calls “a distinctly Roman combination of clout, prestige, and right to respect.” When Gaius Julius Caesar (100–44 BC) was challenged, he declared it an attack on his dignitas. By the way, Caesar wasn’t a particularly good guy4; in 44 BC, after “serving” for 10 years as Rome’s top banana, he declared himself dictator for life, and his “principled assassination” (Beard’s words) a few months later was considered necessary to overcome tyranny (though as Beard points out, removing a tyrant doesn’t necessarily end tyranny).

Let’s give credit where it’s due, though, however compromised. To be fair, although Caesar’s dictator-for-life status reeked of megalomania and godlike aspirations, he was known for his tendency toward clementia (mercy), pardoning instead of punishing his enemies (including, poor guy, several of his future assassins). The problem was that clementia, despite being a virtue, was considered a monarchical trait and thus “the antithesis of Republican libertas (liberty).” And that was a strong motivator for his pro-Republic assassins.

Fun fact: You all know the catchphrase Veni, vidi, vici (I came, I saw, I conquered) attributed to Caesar, right? Sounds very manly, not to mention kinda virtuous, doesn’t it? But it actually was intended to reflect just the speed of that conquering, which in Caesar’s case was his victory over Pharnaces of Pontus at the Battle of Zela (in modern-day Turkey) in 47 BC.

Political terms

Obviously a history of ancient Rome includes tons of political terminology. Here’s a sampling.

A decemviri was a group of 10 men (decem = 10, viri = men) who, in the mid-fifth century BC, were tasked with collecting, drafting, and publishing Rome’s laws.
The word senate comes from senes, referring to a council of old men. I love that whoever coined the term was honest about who he was describing.
From the Latin candidatus (whitened), which refers to the white togas Romans wore during elections, we get the modern-day word candidate.
Contiones, held before the voting assemblies, were loud, boisterous semi-formal meetings in which rival candidates tried to sway people to vote for them. Beard writes: “On one occasion, in the first century BCE, it was said that the shouting was so thunderous that a crow, which had the bad luck to be flying past, fell to the ground, stunned.”
Socii were allies, and to some extent the word’s meaning hasn’t changed—in today’s Italian, soci are members of an organization.
In 133 BC, Cicero used the word partes to describe two groups, the populares and the optimates, that Beard says “represented two sharply divergent views of the aims and methods of government.” They weren’t political parties in the modern sense of the word, in that they “had no members, official leaders or agreed manifestos.”

The language of war

In 390 BC, a plebeian in the Roman army named Marcus Caedicius tried to warn his superiors of an imminent attack by the Gauls, news of which he said he received via the voice of some unknown god. The Roman officers ignored him, but it turned out he was right and the Gauls took Rome. Heck, I’d have listened to him—Caedicius means disaster teller.

In the fourth century BC, in the Forum, a platform for speakers was decorated with bronze battering rams taken from enemy warships. The word rams in Latin is rostra, from which we get the word rostrum, meaning a raised platform.

The phrase Pyrrhic victory, meaning a battle won at a toll so great it approaches a defeat, comes from Pyrrhus, the name of a Greek ruler. In 280 BC Pyrrhus defended Tarentum (now Taranto, in Puglia) from the Romans. Despite succeeding, he later lamented that, according to Beard, “his victories against Rome cost him so many men that he could not afford another.”

By the way, Pyrrhus is the Latinized form of the Greek name Pyrrhos, which means flamelike or flammable, or, according to other sources, fiery, red-colored (especially to describe hair). Our word pyre derives from the Greek pyr, meaning fire.

The name for the Punic Wars, fought in Carthage (near Tunis in modern-day Tunisia), comes from the Latin Punicus (meaning Carthaginian).

And finally we have the word hostis, the root of several words we now think of as friendly, like hostel, host, and osteria (a family-style restaurant). Back in the day, though, hostis meant something very different—a foreigner (someone to host?) or an enemy. Thus the English word hostile.

Is your brain now aquiver with new information? Are you ready to sign up for Latin classes? Whether you like it or not, I’ll continue to flag interesting language stuff in the second half of SPQR, and who knows, maybe I’ll follow up this post with more Latin-y language trivia. Consider that a promise or a threat.

Tante belle cose. Alla prossima—

Cheryl

App of the day

Since we’re talking about language, I’ll add that I recently started using Busuu because, for no useful reason, I decided I’d like to learn to speak French. Since I’m an absolute beginner, I can’t judge it too well other than to say it does teach useful sentences, unlike [clears throat] other apps. Once there, I figured I might as well see what the Italian content looked like, so I’m doing that too and am quite happy with it. At the B2 level I’m learning lots of idioms I didn’t know, which Busuu pairs with some good grammar lessons. I’ve learned a few new pronominal verbs too, which is always a good thing.

The one downside: the free version contains an annoying number of ads, many of which you have to click out of three or four times. If I stick with it, I’ll probably end up getting the paid version, thus playing into their evil little hands. We’ll see how it goes.

P.S. My book! Which you can buy here or on the usual sites, or, better yet, order it from your local bookstore. Another fab option is to ask your library to stock it. If you read it and like it, please tell your friends and/or leave a few lines of praise on any bookish site. You’d be surprised how much a rating or review helps authors. Baci!

Titus Livius (59 BC–17 AD), a historian who wrote an extensive history of Rome covering its founding legends through the reign of Augustus.

Marcus Tullius Cicero, 106–40 BC, a scholar and statesman, philosopher, politician, and poet in Rome’s late Republic period whose extensive writings influenced the development and use of Latin.

The second king of Rome who reigned from 715 to 672 BC.

The term Caesarism defines a populist form of political rule characterized by a charismatic strongman who rules by force; see also Napoleon and Mussolini.