Article by Luis Perez

Pictures are worth a thousand words – our leaders know it. But how much of their visual identity is 'borrowed' from the Roman Empire?

Elon Musk, the world’s most talked-about billionaire, shocked audiences in January with a gesture reminiscent of Nazi iconography.  

As he sent the Internet into a flame war, defenders of the Tesla CEO rushed in with a counterclaim: it wasn’t a Nazi salute, but a ‘Roman’ salute. 

To settle the debate, we asked a classics expert about the origins of the gesture. And, as it turns out, the so-called salute is about as Roman as a Caesar salad.  

“There is no art from the time that depicts this gesture, and it is not described in any text,” says Dr Estelle Strazdins from the School of Literature, Language and Linguistics at the Australian National University.  

“The major arm raising gesture that can be associated with Ancient Rome is the adlocutio pose that was adopted by emperors and generals when addressing their troops. But it is a more relaxed, slightly bent arm with a loose pointing posture, rather than the straight arm and hand associated with the ‘Roman salute’.”   

What the so-called ‘Roman salute’ is associated with, Strazdins explains, is 20th century fascist movements.  

“This is an example of how our understanding of antiquity can be highjacked and solidified by active and directed misinterpretation,” she says.  

“Fascism tries to gain legitimacy from its association with ancient Rome, claiming it as something with a deeper cultural legitimacy and as a way of demonstrating its connection to the broader and nebulous concept of ‘western culture’. 

“Knowing Musk’s gesture has nothing to do with ancient Rome in reality saps it of that power and highlights its fascist connections.” 

The Romans did it first

Long before politicians had PR teams and Instagram accounts to help craft their public image, Roman emperors relied on coins, statues, and monuments to do the same job.      

Strazdins’s research is trying to understand the role these early forms of mass media played in securing power during the Later Roman Empire.  

“The emperors of Rome were adept at using visual forms of propaganda,” she says.  

“The use of the emperor’s image was always strategic – they wanted to control how the leader was understood and to spread a uniform message. 

“Portraits are an interesting example. Each emperor had their own official portrait of them wearing military uniform distributed across the empire so local workshops could reproduce it in stone or bronze. This was chosen to convey their authority and right to rule, reminding the population of the consequences of resistance and rebellion. 

“Coins worked in a similar way. Often featuring the emperor’s portrait, they circulated widely, passing through the hands of many people from different social ranks.” 

Researchers have diverse evidence that these imperial messages were effectively received and interpreted by the masses.  

These clues come largely from the elites, proving that, much like today’s influencers set social trends, the images of emperors had a direct effect on the fashion choices of the time.  

“We’ve studied portraits of non-imperial women copying the hairstyles of imperial women,” Strazdins says. “And after Hadrian became the first emperor to wear a beard in his official portrait, subsequent emperors and elites followed suit.  

The parallels to today’s world are uncanny. Just as some politicians have mimicked Elon Musk’s salute – such as  Donald Trump’s former adviser Steve Bannon – Roman elites also played copycat politics. 

“Provincial elites would commission images of the emperor in combination with their own portrait in ways that either used the prestige of connection with the emperor to build up one’s own image or to suggest they were somehow a mediator of imperial power in the region, having some kind of direct influence over the emperor himself,” says Strazdins.  

Read the full article in theANU Reporter