Lucius Cornelius Sulla Felix, the Roman general and dictator, once declared, “No friend ever served me, and no enemy ever wronged me, whom I have not repaid in full.” Nearly two millennia later, echoes of Sulla’s defiant legacy reverberate in the political arena of modern America—a comparison that invites reflection on the precarious balance of republican ideals.
As we continue to experience the effects of Donald Trump’s second ascension to the presidency, it is worth reminding the American republic and the larger world of a similar republican, a historical analogue who was elected twice in non-consecutive terms and used his time in office to completely rewrite conventional norms.
The American Republic and Its Roman Roots
The architects of the United States looked to Rome as a model, adopting its republican framework while avoiding the pitfalls of monarchy. Like Rome in the late Republic, America today stands as the dominant global power, presiding over a Pax Americana reminiscent of Rome’s Pax Romana. Yet parallels abound—political dynasties, stark economic inequality, and cultural fragmentation—revealing the fragility of such supremacy.
Familial political legacies, exemplified by the Kennedys, Bushes, and Roosevelts, echo the prominence of Roman families like the Julii and Cornelii. Economic inequality, too, binds the eras. By the end of the Roman Republic, the top 1% controlled 16% of the wealth; in America today, the top 1% hold more wealth than the bottom 80%. This chasm creates fertile ground for populist leaders to exploit public discontent.
Cultural divisions add to the unrest. Just as Rome’s expansion brought new citizens and social upheaval, modern immigration has fueled polarization in the United States. Such circumstances breed demagogues who, like Sulla, manipulate discontent to reshape the political landscape.
Sulla’s Precedent of Power
Born in 138 BCE, Sulla rose from a fallen patrician family to achieve military renown under Gaius Marius. His victories in the Social War and against Mithridates established his credentials, but it was his boldness in seizing power that cemented his place in history. When political rivals attempted to strip him of command, Sulla marched his army on Rome—an unprecedented act that shattered the mos maiorum, the “way of the elders” that upheld Rome’s unwritten rules.
Following his military success and his populist promises to restore the traditional Roman Republic and strengthen its institutions, Sulla was first elected a Roman consul, a one-year rotating position somewhat akin to a prime minister in the Roman system. Consuls, two of whom were named each year, commanded the army, convened and presided over the Senate and the popular assemblies, executed their decrees, and represented the state in foreign affairs.
Due to political maneuvering and a series of political crises, Sulla was subsequently appointed as a dictator of Rome. Unlike today’s concept of a dictator, a Roman dictator was appointed only in times of military and, later, internal crises as a temporary magistrate with extraordinary power but with only a six-month term. However, Sulla’s dictatorship was markedly different; due to a law called the lex Valeria, he was appointed “Dictator for Life” with no term limit and no geographic constraint. Sulla had immense power and was essentially the first Roman emperor in everything but name.
As dictator, Sulla purged his enemies, enacting proscriptions that claimed thousands of lives. Yet his reforms aimed to stabilize Rome: he strengthened the Senate’s authority, restructured the judiciary, and curbed the power of tribunes. Remarkably, in 78 BCE Sulla voluntarily relinquished his dictatorship, retiring to a life of indulgence. His actions, however, left an indelible mark, weakening the Republic’s foundations and emboldening figures like Julius Caesar to overtly create and claim a hereditary throne.
Trump: An American Sulla?
The comparison is provocative, but the parallels merit consideration. Like Sulla, Trump entered politics late in life, leveraging personal ambition and public discontent. Both men challenged institutional norms, using their positions to consolidate power and defy precedent. Trump’s first presidency was marked by a disregard for convention, from bypassing traditional channels of governance to reshaping the judiciary and weakening oversight institutions.
While Trump’s first presidency did not involve literal armies marching on Washington, his ability to galvanize fervent support—culminating in the January 6 Capitol riot—demonstrates a similar capacity to fracture democratic norms. And like Sulla, his influence during his interregnum extends beyond his time in office, with a political legacy that may shape the ambitions of his successors.
There are already signs that Trump may be using his immense power and control of all three branches of the American republic to revenge slights, whether real or imaginary, on domestic foes, a legitimate fear in the shadow of Sulla’s proscriptions.
The Fragility of Republics
History warns us that republics are not impervious to decay. The Roman Republic succumbed to internal strife and the erosion of its institutions, creating the conditions for autocracy. Today, the United States faces its own tests: political polarization, economic inequality, and challenges to democratic norms.
While Sulla himself returned his autocratic powers to the state, his actions paved the way for the destruction of the democratic institutions of the Roman republic and replaced them with the autocracy of Julius Caesar’s empire.
Sulla’s story is a cautionary tale of how charismatic leaders can exploit divisions to reshape the political order. As America grapples with the uncertainty of Trump 2.0, the parallels to Rome’s late Republic underscore the urgency of safeguarding its democratic institutions. Whether the Republic endures or gives way to an “American Caesar” remains an open question—and a sobering reminder of the stakes.
In contemplating the trajectory of modern America, Sulla’s shadow looms large. The lessons of history demand vigilance, lest the ideals of the American Republic succumb to the ambitions of those who would test its limits.
