24 new york | august 5–18, 2019
somewhat nervous Senate to withdraw his command and give it to
his aging (and jealous) mentor Marius. But Sulla, appalled by the
snub, simply refused to follow his civilian orders, gathered his men,
and called on them to march back to Rome to reverse the decision.
His officers, shocked by the insubordination, deserted him. His
troops didn’t, soon storming Rome, restoring Sulla’s highly profit-
able command, and forcing his enemies into exile. Sulla then pre-
sided over new elections of friendly consuls and went back into the
field. But his absence from Rome—he needed to keep fighting to
reward his men to keep them loyal—enabled a comeback of his
enemies, including Marius, who retook the city in his absence and
revoked Sulla’s revocations of command. Roman politics had sud-
denly become a deadly game of tit for tat.
When Sulla entered Rome a second time, he rounded up 6,000
of his enemies, slaughtered them en masse within earshot of the
Senate itself, launched a reign of terror, and assumed the old emer-
gency office of dictator, but with one critical difference: He removed
the six-month expiration date—turning himself into an absolute
ruler with no time limit. Stocking and massively expanding the
Senate with his allies, he neutered the tribunes and reempowered
the consuls. He was trying to use dictatorial power to reestablish
the old order. And after three years, he retired, leaving what he
thought was a republic restored.
Within a decade, though, the underlying patterns deepened,
and nearly all of Sulla’s reforms collapsed. What lasted instead
was his model of indefinite dictatorship, with the power to make
or repeal any law. He had established a precedent that would soon
swallow Rome whole.
This was no longer a republican culture protected by an austere
elite, but an increasingly authoritarian one, with great military
leaders and a handful of wealthy men dominating the political
scene through money, legions, and military success. The ancient
institutions and customs still
existed but were slowly losing rele-
vance. Worrywarts in the Senate
and intelligentsia became con-
cerned about strongmen emerging
within the system—“The political
situation alarms me more each day,”
wrote Cicero. Two in particular
stood out: Pompey, a hugely suc-
cessful celebrity general who, at the
tender age of 35, was made consul;
and an up-and-coming Julius Cae-
sar, rampaging through Gaul and
then Britain, besting Pompey’s
imperial acquisitions, and generat-
ing wide popular enthusiasm.
The two rivals appealed to both of
the factions that had now long since
defined the political scene— Caesar
was a populist, Pompey a true
Establishment figure—and as Cae-
sar prepared to return, the Senate,
panicked that another civil war was
imminent, overwhelmingly voted that each disarm his forces and
deliver them to the state. Pompey, who was in Rome, simply took
no notice. Neither did Caesar, in Gaul, who crossed the Rubicon.
These two celebrity commanders had so many soldiers, had con-
quered so much territory and won such widespread support, that
the Senate had effectively become irrelevant. It could vote, and it
did, but its votes no longer mattered.
The civil war that followed lasted four years, spanned several
continents, resulted in Pompey’s murder in Egypt and gave Caesar
a monopoly of power. He used it on a grandiloquent scale; hisparades were beyond sumptuous and displayed the humiliation of
his domestic as well as his foreign enemies, as the wider public
thrilled to the spectacle. He was granted the position of dictator by
the Senate to stabilize the war-torn polity, then reappointed as dic-
tator in 48 BCE for a whole year, and by 44 BCE had been formally
named dictator-for-life. At one point, his ally Mark Antony even
offered him what looked like a crown.
His assassination—the famous murder on the Ides of March—
was accomplished not by a mob but by a group of senators, who
feared another rex and worried that their own attenuated power—
or the republic itself—would disappear entirely. But it was a last-
ditch attempt to save any kind of checks and balances within the
system. After years of further civil war, Caesar’s adopted nephew,
Augustus, finally destroyed his enemies, shed any pretense of
republican rule, and established himself as emperor. His reign
would last 40 years. Only emperors succeeded him.History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes—
as Mark Twain is legendarily said to have remarked.
There is no chance that rival political-party leaders in
the U.S. are going to assemble vast armies and march
on Washington to seize total power. We do not have an existing
institution, like the Roman dictatorship, that could be instantly
used to impose tyranny. Rome had many civil wars across many
theaters as the republic staggered to a close—not one, single cata-
strophic event followed by a contested but permanent settlement.
The vast American middle class that stabilized liberal democracy
at the height of the 20th century never existed in Rome. We have a
welfare state that provides some measure of buffer against popular
revolt and a written, formal Constitution far harder to flout bra-
zenly than the unwritten mos maiorum of the Romans.
But still. It’s impossible to review the demise of the Roman
Republic and not be struck by the
parallel dynamics in America in- We now live, as the Romans
did, in an economy of massive
wealth increasingly monopolized
by the very rich, in which the whole
notion of principled public service
has been eclipsed by the pursuit of
private wealth and reality-show
fame. Cynicism about the system is
endemic, as in Rome. The concept
of public service has evaporated as
swiftly as trust in government had
collapsed. When the republican
virtues of a Robert Mueller col-
lided this year with the populist
pathologies of Donald Trump, we
saw how easily a culture that gave
us Cicero could turn into a culture
that gave us Caesar.
Class conflict—which, in Amer-
ica, has merged with a profound
cultural clash—has split the country
into two core interests: the largely white lower and middle classes
in the middle of the country, roughly equivalent to Rome’s popu-
lares and susceptible to populist appeals by powerful men and
women; and the multicultural coastal elites, whose wealth has
soared as it has stagnated for the rest, and who pride themselves
on their openness and meritocracy: the optimates. And just as in
late-republican Rome, each side has begun not to complement
but to delegitimize the other.
The result, as in Rome, is a form of deepening deadlock, a polit-
ical conflict in which many on both sides profoundly fear their
T H EAMERICANSYSTEM HAS AVULNERABILITYROME DIDN’T—A ONE-MANEXECUTIVEBRANCH.TRANSMITTED________ COPY ___ DD ___ AD ___ PD ___ EICTRANSMITTED1619FEA_AndrewSullivan_lay [Print]_35565047.indd 24 8/2/19 7:36 PM24 newyork| august5–18, 2019
somewhat nervous Senate to withdraw his command and give it to
his aging (and jealous) mentor Marius. But Sulla, appalled by the
snub, simply refused to follow his civilian orders, gathered his men,
and called on them to march back to Rome to reverse the decision.
His officers, shocked by the insubordination, deserted him. His
troops didn’t, soon storming Rome, restoring Sulla’s highly profit-
able command, and forcing his enemies into exile. Sulla then pre-
sided over new elections of friendly consuls and went back into the
field. But his absence from Rome—he needed to keep fighting to
reward his men to keep them loyal—enabled a comeback of his
enemies, including Marius, who retook the city in his absence and
revoked Sulla’s revocations of command. Roman politics had sud-
denly become a deadly game of tit for tat.
When Sulla entered Rome a second time, he rounded up 6,000
of his enemies, slaughtered them en masse within earshot of the
Senate itself, launched a reign of terror, and assumed the old emer-
gency office of dictator, but with one critical difference: He removed
the six-month expiration date—turning himself into an absolute
ruler with no time limit. Stocking and massively expanding the
Senate with his allies, he neutered the tribunes and reempowered
the consuls. He was trying to use dictatorial power to reestablish
the old order. And after three years, he retired, leaving what he
thought was a republic restored.
Within a decade, though, the underlying patterns deepened,
and nearly all of Sulla’s reforms collapsed. What lasted instead
was his model of indefinite dictatorship, with the power to make
or repeal any law. He had established a precedent that would soon
swallow Rome whole.
This was no longer a republican culture protected by an austere
elite, but an increasingly authoritarian one, with great military
leaders and a handful of wealthy men dominating the political
scene through money, legions, and military success. The ancient
institutions and customs still
existed but were slowly losing rele-
vance.WorrywartsintheSenate
and intelligentsia became con-
cernedaboutstrongmenemerging
withinthesystem—“Thepolitical
situationalarmsmemoreeachday,”
wroteCicero.Twoinparticular
stoodout:Pompey,a hugelysuc-
cessfulcelebritygeneralwho,at the
tenderageof35,wasmadeconsul;
andanup-and-comingJuliusCae-
sar, rampagingthroughGauland
then Britain, besting Pompey’s
imperialacquisitions,andgenerat-
ingwidepopularenthusiasm.
Thetworivalsappealedtobothof
thefactionsthat hadnowlongsince
definedthepoliticalscene—Caesar
was a populist, Pompeya true
Establishmentfigure—andasCae-
sarpreparedtoreturn,theSenate,
panickedthat anothercivilwarwas
imminent,overwhelminglyvotedthat eachdisarmhisforcesand
deliverthemtothestate.Pompey,whowasinRome,simplytook
nonotice.NeitherdidCaesar, inGaul,whocrossedtheRubicon.
Thesetwocelebrity commandershadsomany soldiers,hadcon-
queredsomuchterritoryandwonsuchwidespreadsupport, that
theSenatehadeffectivelybecomeirrelevant.It couldvote,andit
did,butitsvotesnolongermattered.
Thecivilwarthat followedlastedfouryears,spannedseveral
continents,resultedinPompey’smurderinEgyptandgaveCaesar
a monopolyofpower.He usedit ona grandiloquentscale;his
parades were beyond sumptuous and displayed the humiliation of
his domestic as well as his foreign enemies, as the wider public
thrilled to the spectacle. He was granted the position of dictator by
the Senate to stabilize the war-torn polity, then reappointed as dic-
tator in 48 BCE for a whole year, and by 44 BCE had been formally
named dictator-for-life. At one point, his ally Mark Antony even
offered him what looked like a crown.
His assassination—the famous murder on the Ides of March—
was accomplished not by a mob but by a group of senators, who
feared another rex and worried that their own attenuated power—
or the republic itself—would disappear entirely. But it was a last-
ditch attempt to save any kind of checks and balances within the
system. After years of further civil war, Caesar’s adopted nephew,
Augustus, finally destroyed his enemies, shed any pretense of
republican rule, and established himself as emperor. His reign
would last 40 years. Only emperors succeeded him.History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes—
as Mark Twain is legendarily said to have remarked.
There is no chance that rival political-party leaders in
the U.S. are going to assemble vast armies and march
on Washington to seize total power. We do not have an existing
institution, like the Roman dictatorship, that could be instantly
used to impose tyranny. Rome had many civil wars across many
theaters as the republic staggered to a close—not one, single cata-
strophic event followed by a contested but permanent settlement.
The vast American middle class that stabilized liberal democracy
at the height of the 20th century never existed in Rome. We have a
welfare state that provides some measure of buffer against popular
revolt and a written, formal Constitution far harder to flout bra-
zenly than the unwritten mos maiorum of the Romans.
But still. It’s impossible to review the demise of the Roman
Republic and not be struck by the
parallel dynamics in America in- We now live, as the Romans
did, in an economy of massive
wealth increasingly monopolized
by the very rich, in which the whole
notion of principled public service
has been eclipsed by the pursuit of
private wealth and reality-show
fame. Cynicism about the system is
endemic, as in Rome. The concept
of public service has evaporated as
swiftly as trust in government had
collapsed. When the republican
virtues of a Robert Mueller col-
lided this year with the populist
pathologies of Donald Trump, we
saw how easily a culture that gave
us Cicero could turn into a culture
that gave us Caesar.
Class conflict—which, in Amer-
ica, has merged with a profound
cultural clash—has split the country
intotwocoreinterests:thelargely white lower and middle classes
inthemiddleofthecountry, roughly equivalent to Rome’s popu-
laresandsusceptibletopopulist appeals by powerful men and
women;andthemulticultural coastal elites, whose wealth has
soaredasit hasstagnatedfor the rest, and who pride themselves
ontheiropennessandmeritocracy: the optimates. And just as in
late-republicanRome,each side has begun not to complement
buttodelegitimizetheother.
Theresult,asinRome,is a form of deepening deadlock, a polit-
icalconflict inwhichmany on both sides profoundly fear their
T H EAMERICANSYSTEM HAS AVULNERABILITYROME DIDN’T—A ONE-MANEXECUTIVEBRANCH.