Philip Freeman says, while Donald Trump's populist message resonates with his supporters, in fact the US is never short of populists. In recent history populist presidential candidates - George Wallace, Pat Buchannan, Ross Perot - ran with exactly the same ideology against an incumbent president, reaching out to the same minority of the smaller of the two political parties.

Freeman sees Trump as the 21st century's Publius Clodius Pulcher, the father of populism, who lived between 93 - 52 BC. Following Trump's campaign, it is not far-fetched to say that he has borrowed a page from Pulcher's playbook. The wealthy, ambitious Roman aristocrat knew how to use his "fiery rhetoric" and "charm" to manipulate a poor and "angry" working class to gain popularity, to elbow aside his rivals, and to pit them against each other. "The more audacious his behavior, the more the public loved him for it."

Two thousand years later Clodius is mainly remembered for being a disruptive politician and head of a band of political thugs. A sneering, arrogant demagogue, who - "eccentric and unpredictable" - constantly "shocked and amused the Roman populace." He was generous and handed out free grain to the disgruntled poor, who had "lost their jobs in recent economic upheavals." Having given up his social standing, he joined the plebes and became their beloved leader. Together they "unleashed a populist uprising unlike anything the Republic had ever seen." The ruling elite was perplexed and didn't know how deal with the bete noire.

Today's populists - perhaps with the exception of Silvio Berlusconi - don't match Pulcher in terms of womanising. On one occasion he disguised himself as a female harpist among the participants during a "female-only religious festival of the goddess Bona Dea, with the aim of seducing Pompeia, Julius Caesar’s wife." Caesar divorced his wife in suspicion that she had admitted Clodius to the ceremony. The Casanova maintained he was 90 miles (145 km) away from Rome, on the day in question, but Cicero presented evidence to the contrary. Clodius was exonerated - it was unclear whether the jury had been bribed - but he immediately began to devise ways to revenge himself on Cicero.

In 58 Clodius was elected tribune and put an end to unprincipled obstruction of public business on religious grounds, which didn't differ from the bipartisan bickering in Congress today. Clodius reenacted a series of laws forbidding execution of a Roman citizen without trial. Cicero had in 63 put to death without trial a number of people, and had to flee from Rome to avoid prosecution. Clodius then had him outlawed. Trump is equally vindictive and doesn't hesitate to have protesters "beaten up" at rallies. Critics despised Clodius and saw him "as a buffoon." They had "failed to realize was that he was smart, determined, and very much in touch with the frustrations of the common people." That he broke "every rule in his quest for power," reminds also of Trump.

Trump doesn't have to worry that he would end up like Clodius, who was killed by his enemy, Annius Milo, after a running fight on the Appian Way. The conflicting gangs, partisans of Milo and of Clodius, kept Rome in turmoil for several years and prevented elections of officials. Should Trump not make the GOP nomination, it might perhaps unleash a populist uprising , like the one after Clodius's death. But the plebs had "quickly found new champions, most notably Caesar. The ruling classes stood by dazed and helpless as control of the state they had run for centuries slipped from their hands." It is doubtful whether we would see similar outcome in America. However, the rise of populists in the ancient Rome had much the grievances of a disaffected populace to thank for. Moral decay - decadence, corruption and disillusionment of the public - led ultimately to the fall of Rome. Indeed, history should serve today's leaders as the writing on the wall.