In this episode of the Shawn Ryan Show, historian Dr. Thomas Madden examines how ancient republics—particularly Rome, Carthage, and Venice—succeeded or failed, and what their fates reveal about modern America. Madden traces Rome's transformation from stable republic to dictatorship, highlighting how the elimination of external threats, the militarization of politics, and the breakdown of constitutional norms led to violent collapse. He contrasts this with Venice's peaceful thousand-year run, explaining how different institutional structures produced vastly different outcomes.
Madden applies these historical lessons to contemporary America, discussing warning signs of republican decline and evaluating the health of U.S. institutions. He explains how the Constitution's framers used classical knowledge to design safeguards against the failures that destroyed Rome, and emphasizes the critical role of civic education in maintaining these protections. The conversation covers partisan division, wealth inequality, military depoliticization, and the importance of citizens understanding constitutional principles to preserve democratic governance.

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Republics have been rare in pre-modern history, typically emerging in societies that value stable laws, commerce, and balanced power. Thomas Madden and Shawn Ryan discuss three significant ancient Mediterranean republics—Rome, Carthage, and Venice—with Rome's violent collapse offering crucial lessons about how internal dynamics and civic engagement affect republican survival.
Following Rome's destruction of Carthage in 146 BC, internal stability began deteriorating. Polybius observed a marked decline in Roman moral character, with corruption and self-interest replacing earlier integrity. Tiberius Gracchus exemplified this constitutional breakdown when he bypassed the Senate, brought land reform directly to the popular assembly, and orchestrated the unprecedented deposition of a vetoing tribune. When senators mistakenly believed Tiberius sought kingship, they clubbed him to death—the first political bloodshed by Roman officeholders. This inaugurated a destructive pattern of resolving disputes through violence rather than law.
Military reforms further destabilized the system. Earlier citizen-soldiers served out of obligation, but Gaius Marius created a professional army recruited from the lower classes. This shift tied soldiers' fortunes to their generals rather than the Republic, with legions serving commanders' ambitions instead of the Constitution. By the first century BC, generals like Pompey, Caesar, and Sulla wielded armies as tools of domestic conflict. Sulla's march on Rome broke the final taboo, demonstrating that whoever controlled the army decided Rome's fate. Decades of devastating civil wars ultimately led the populace to yearn for peace above all else, allowing Octavian (Augustus) to consolidate power and end the Republic by 27 BC.
Carthage developed a mixed government balancing executive, council, and popular assembly powers to provide stability for commerce. However, Rome's alliance system proved superior. Rome granted Italian communities citizenship and governance participation, fostering loyalty during crises. When Hannibal invaded, Rome's allies resisted joining him, viewing him as an external threat to their inclusive system. In contrast, Carthage's commercial outposts and subject territories lacked cohesion, making Rome's approach more resilient during existential wars.
Venice maintained long-term stability through stringent constraints on its elected doge, with real authority residing in the Great Council. The system aligned with mercantile prosperity while preventing tyranny, with disputes resolved in council chambers rather than streets. For a thousand years, Venice's flexible republican system thrived until 1797, when the Great Council, facing Napoleon's overwhelming force, voted to surrender—ending peacefully through a council vote rather than civil war.
Madden explains that Rome's 146 BC victory over Carthage eliminated the unifying external threat that had helped define the Republic. With no military adversary to fear, citizens began viewing the Republic as a benefit provider rather than a protector requiring sacrifice. Internal divisions became hypervisible, with fellow Romans seen as the main threat each faction aimed to eliminate.
Madden argues that republics maintain stability through competition among interest groups, unified by external threats. However, after Rome achieved Mediterranean dominance, the unifying effect of external fear couldn't be authentically recreated. He compares this to post-9/11 America, where initial unity faded as danger waned. With the Soviet Union's collapse in 1991, the United States found itself in a Rome-after-146-BC scenario: unrivaled power and wealth without major existential enemies. Absent external threats, Americans increasingly view domestic opponents as the real danger, with hyperpartisanship overtaking commitment to preserve constitutional integrity. Citizens now see the Republic as a service provider rather than an institution requiring sacrifice and loyalty.
The U.S. Constitution's framers were deeply versed in classical history, reading Greek and Latin texts including Polybius. This knowledge enabled them to design government preventing both tyranny and mob rule. Montesquieu's major contribution was the theory of an independent judiciary—a safeguard missing in earlier republics.
The Constitution divides power among legislative, executive, and judicial branches, each checking the others. The House channels popular will while the Senate moderates, and the president can veto legislation subject to congressional override. One major innovation involves military funding: while the president commands armed forces, only Congress can fund them—and only for two years at a time for the army. This ensures a president cannot independently sustain an army to maintain personal power.
American military depoliticization prevents Rome's path to dictatorship. Unlike Roman legions, American servicemen receive no personal wealth from conquests, breaking the dangerous bond that turned Roman armies into instruments of personal ambition. The result is a fundamentally apolitical military serving the Constitution regardless of administration, with military involvement in politics signaling republic collapse.
Madden employs a "broken republic scorecard" listing danger signs in order of severity: officials defying Supreme Court orders, suspended elections, violence between officials, party-run paramilitary forces, political prosecution lists, traitors killed without trial, military endorsing candidates, and military occupation of the Capitol. While these grave indicators aren't currently present, Madden expresses concern over the possibility of presidential defiance of Supreme Court decisions, which would undermine constitutional safeguards.
Contemporary parallels to Rome exist in toxic partisanship and wealth inequality. Politicians pursue legal actions against opponents in "prosecutorial politics," though without descending into bloodshed. Wealthy interests shape policy through lobbying and campaign finance, mirroring Rome's corruption. Immigration divides both societies politically, with working-class citizens opposing it and abandoning traditional allies.
Despite strain, America's constitutional framework displays resilience. Courts strike down illegal executive actions, elections proceed lawfully, the military remains apolitical, and Congress controls funding. Madden credits the Founders' design—overlapping authorities and separation of powers—for requiring multiple simultaneous institutional failures for Rome-like breakdown. The republic maintains self-correction capacity if branches share power and citizens trust procedures.
Madden emphasizes that learning constitutional principles and Western history is essential for citizens to develop meaningful stakes in the republic. Recent surveys reveal only one-third of Americans can name all three government branches, leaving citizens unable to grasp checks and balances or distinguish normal disagreements from constitutional crises.
Madden contends that historical knowledge creates psychological investment in the republic's continuation, fostering respect for institutions as a trust handed down by generations. However, schools increasingly frame American history as national failures without balanced context, causing disengagement. The declining emphasis on civics means citizens struggle to defend institutional safeguards when politicians urge abandoning norms for short-term advantage.
Madden insists vigilance requires informed citizens, not passive trust. An educated electorate recognizes when political actors violate established norms, avoiding the civic disengagement that plagued Rome in its final decades. He concludes that civic education is not merely academic—it's a practical defense against democratic governance erosion.
1-Page Summary
Republics have been rare in pre-modern history, typically arising in societies prioritizing stable laws, commerce, and a balance of powers. The ancient Mediterranean world experienced three significant experiments in republican government—Rome, Carthage, and Venice—each charting distinct courses and facing unique pressures. Rome’s particular fate, culminating in violent civil wars and militarized politics, offers a prime lens for understanding how internal dynamics, external threats, and systems of civic engagement affect the lifespan of republics.
Following Rome's destruction of Carthage, internal stability began to wane. Polybius, a Greek historian, observed a marked decline in Roman moral character within his lifetime. Earlier Romans prided themselves on integrity—never taking bribes and governing uprightly—but as Rome’s fortunes expanded, so too did corruption and self-interest.
Tiberius Gracchus exemplified the Republic's constitutional decline. He advocated for a popular land reform bill, but, believing the Senate would stonewall him, bypassed this traditional route and brought the proposal directly to the popular assembly. When another tribune vetoed the process because it had not gone through the Senate, Tiberius orchestrated a vote to depose this tribune, replacing him with a supporter—an unprecedented and illegal move in Rome’s unwritten constitutional tradition. By prioritizing personal judgment over procedure, Tiberius set a precedent: force and expediency could override established norms.
Tiberius’s actions, and his populist appeals, stoked suspicion among elites that he sought kingship—a role deeply abhorred in republican Rome. During a chaotic assembly, misinterpreted gestures led senators, many of them hardened veterans, to believe Tiberius wanted a crown. They stormed the gathering and clubbed him to death, rationalizing the killing as tyrannicide. For the first time, political blood was shed by officeholders in Rome. The subsequent backlash saw Tiberius lionized as a martyr, provoking further instability. His brother, Gaius Gracchus, followed in his footsteps and also met a violent end. This inaugurated a new, destructive pattern: resolving political disputes by violence, not law.
In the earlier Republic, legions consisted of citizen-soldiers, serving out of obligation and rewarded with land. However, economic hardship often forced veterans to abandon farms and return to Rome, leading to new urban dependencies and, eventually, the introduction of subsidized and then free bread for the masses.
This social change facilitated Gaius Marius’s military reforms: the creation of a professional army recruited from the lower classes. While expanding Rome’s reach, this shift caused soldiers to tie their fortunes less to the Republic and more to their generals—politicians with military command. The promise of plunder, settlement, and jobs became the glue between legions and their leaders. Ultimately, military loyalty shifted away from the state; legions served their commander’s ambitions rather than the Constitution.
By the first century BC, military power and political ambition became inseparable. Generals like Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar assembled loyal armies and wielded them as tools of domestic conflict, with legions camped menacingly outside Rome. Civil wars erupted as these men vied for supremacy, each justifying extraordinary (and illegal) measures as necessary to save the Republic from its supposed enemies.
The most telling example came when Sulla, holding legal command as consul, marched his legions on Rome—a first in Roman history—ostensibly to reclaim his right to command from a rival faction. Once in power, Sulla issued proscriptions, legally targeting enemies for execution and redistribution of property. Though he claimed to restore the Republic through new laws and even retired, Sulla’s example broke the final taboo: now, whoever controlled the army decided Rome’s fate, and the constitution was a fiction.
Over decades, devastating civil wars between Marius and Sulla, then Pompey and Caesar, and later between Octavian and Mark Antony, eroded hope for republican recovery. The populace yearned for peace above all else. Octavian (Augustus) consolidated all the power by 27 BC, cloaking autocracy in republican titles but signaling the death of Rome’s republic.
Carthage, too, adopted a republican structure. Like Rome, it fused elements of monarchy (executive), oligarchy (council), and democracy (popular assembly), aiming for stable, predictable governance that would safeguard commerce and prosperity. Carthage’s republicanism emerged from its mercantile roots: merchants and businessmen, seeking stability and the rule of law, eschewed both hereditary nobility and kingly whims.
Carthage’s “mixed government” allocated powers among an executive, a council of elders, and a popular assembly, aiming for balanced governance. This structure provided the legal and economic stability vital for flourishing trade, especially in port cities across the Mediterranean and resource-rich regions like Spain. Carthage’s focus remained on business and wealth, designing institutions to prevent any single family or faction from permanently dominating.
Although Carthage fielded formidable commanders like Hannibal, Rome’s approach to empire-building was more effective. Rome established an alliance system in which Italian communities gained citizenship and participated in governance, fostering loyalty and unity in crisis. When Hannibal invaded, Rome’s allies resisted joining him, perceiving Hannibal as an external threat to an inclusive, if unequal, syst ...
Historical Patterns of Republic Decline: Case Studies of Rome, Carthage, Venice, Focusing On Roman Republic's Collapse Through Civil War and Militarization of Politics
In 146 BC, Rome destroyed Carthage—its primary existential enemy—ending a centuries-long rivalry that had helped define and unify the Roman Republic. According to Thomas Madden, with Carthage's elimination and the simultaneous destruction of Corinth, Rome secured uncontested dominance in the Mediterranean. Rome’s power became unchallenged, creating an unprecedented scenario in which the Republic no longer needed to fear a foreign adversary.
With no existential military threat remaining, Romans turned their focus inward. As vast wealth flooded in from their conquests, citizens began to see the Republic less as a protector against invasion and more as a source of personal benefits. Madden notes that, without any real threat to defend against, people started viewing the Republic as an institution responsible for providing for their individual needs, leading to growing demands for services and entitlements. The collective orientation towards sacrifice for national defense faded, replaced by a more transactional attitude.
As the external threat disappeared, internal divisions within Rome became increasingly prominent. Political rivalry intensified, with fellow citizens seen as the adversaries to defeat for the sake of gaining and keeping power. Madden emphasizes that after Carthage’s fall, hyperpartisanship took hold—different factions began viewing each other as existential threats to the Republic itself. This polarization led to a spiral where victory over rivals mattered more than upholding the Republic’s constitutional order, causing the system to come undone from within.
Republics are inherently competitive, with different groups and institutions constantly checking one another’s power. Madden explains that what keeps such a system in balance is the existence of an external threat—something that forces rival groups to collaborate for their own survival. The looming danger of a common enemy reminds everyone that too much infighting could lead to collective defeat.
This external fear was not only a factor in Rome’s stability, but consciously recognized as such by thinkers like Sallust. Attempts to manufacture enemies through propaganda proved inadequate—Romans could sense the difference between invented threats and genuine existential danger. Once Rome became the unrivaled superpower with no real external foes, the unifying effect of external fear could not be authentically recreated, leading to increased internal fragmentation.
Madden compares Roman history to the modern United States, citing the aftermath of September 11, 2001. In the face of a direct threat, Americans of all political views united, waving flags and supporting leaders across partisan divides—traits usually absent in normal circumstances. However, as the sense of danger faded after the initial years, unity unraveled and pre-existing divisions reemerged.
External Enemies and Fear: How Losing Existential Threats Triggers Internal Division and Civic Breakdown
The framers of the U.S. Constitution were deeply versed in classical history. Their education centered on Greek and Latin texts, including the works of Polybius, Pliny, and other Roman historians, all read in their original languages. This immersion allowed them to draw lessons from the rise and fall of ancient republics, particularly the decay of Rome and the relative stability of Venice, to avoid repeating historical mistakes.
Polybius, for instance, was a Greek scholar and political thinker who, after being brought to Rome as a hostage, became a tutor to leading Roman families such as Scipio Aemilianus. The founding fathers also took heed of political theorists like Montesquieu and John Locke, integrating centuries of republican thought into their debates. This historical knowledge enabled them to design a government intended to prevent both tyranny and mob rule.
The founders recognized the failings of the Articles of Confederation, under which state legislatures often seized excessive power, sometimes creating their own forms of tyranny or lawlessness. Incidents such as Shay’s Rebellion underscored how popular assemblies could spiral out of control. Consequently, the framers moved to create a national government with competing branches, each pitted against the others to balance interests and prevent the collapse seen in earlier republics.
Montesquieu’s major contribution was the theory of an independent judiciary—distinct from the executive and legislature—a safeguard missing in earlier republics. Montesquieu compared this role to the Roman office of censor, designed to clean house and protect the republic. For the first time, the United States implemented an independent judiciary capable of upholding laws and keeping other branches in check, thus strengthening constitutional order in a way never seen in antiquity.
A central pillar of the American Constitution is its division of government power among the legislative, executive, and judicial branches, each acting as a check on the others.
The House of Representatives was designed to channel popular will and initiate legislation, while the Senate was intended as a moderating force composed of members versed in history and governance. Senators were selected to represent each state, providing a counterbalance to the more populist House and curbing any tendency toward rash or impulsive legislation. The president was established as a single executive, empowered to veto legislation but also subject to override by Congress. This structure was purposefully chosen over ideas such as a plural presidency, as it created clear accountability.
Madison and other founders feared both an authoritarian executive and the tyranny of the majority. The Senate, therefore, was envisioned to guard against a demagogue usurping popular support to seize oppressive power. Without such a check, historical precedent showed that unchecked assemblies often led to chaos and ultimately dictatorship.
One major innovation was funding for the military: while the president commands the armed forces, only Congress can fund them—and only for two years at a time for the army. This ensures that a president intent on maintaining personal power cannot independently sustain an army, and if Congress opposes the president’s actions, it can cut off resources. The Navy, in contrast, is not limited by such cycle-based funding, reflecting a lower threat of political abuse.
The independent judiciary, meanwhile, has the crucial role of evaluating the constitutionality of laws, even if they are passed with overwhelming legislative support or public approval. This ensures that fundamental rights and the Constitution itself stand above transient majorities or passions.
A key safeguard against the fate of Rome is the depoliticization and professionalization of the American military. The Founders deliberately separated political power from military command by ensuring that service members are professionals whose loyalty is to the Constitution, not to individual power-seeking generals. Unlike in ancient Rome, Ameri ...
Constitutional Safeguards: Preventing America's Fall Like Rome's Through Power Separation, Independent Judiciary, Executive Military Checks, and Army Limitations
Thomas Madden and Shawn Ryan examine American political health through a framework of warning signs adapted from Rome’s decline, drawing striking parallels in partisanship, wealth inequality, and dysfunction, yet finding institutional resilience that distinguishes the contemporary republic from its ancient counterpart.
Madden employs a “scorecard” listing danger signs of a failing republic: officials defying Supreme Court orders, suspension of elections in violation of law, violence between officials for political ends, the use of party-run paramilitary forces, lists for political prosecution, traitors seized or killed without trial, the military endorsing candidates, and the military occupying the Capitol and expelling government. These are presented in order of severity.
While none of these grave red flags are currently present in the United States, Madden expresses persistent concern over the possibility of a president openly defying a Supreme Court decision. Such an act would undermine a key constitutional safeguard. He notes that if a president simply disregards the courts, it erodes the separation of powers foundational to the republic, leading the nation down a dangerous path where power supersedes the rule of law.
Madden emphasizes that, despite widespread fears from both left and right, these warning signs have not manifested in America so far. The strain is considerable, especially in times of heated partisanship, but the core mechanisms—the courts, elections, lawful transfer of power—are holding.
Madden details how extreme partisanship in contemporary America mirrors late Republican Rome, where ruling factions sought to entrench their power and exclude opponents by legal and procedural maneuvers. Just as Rome resorted to using every tool at hand to lock out their rivals, modern America engages in “prosecutorial politics,” with politicians pursuing legal actions against their opponents, reminiscent of Rome’s factional prosecutions—though not descending into bloodshed or violent purges.
In both ancient Rome and modern America, rising wealth and luxury corrode traditional civic values. Rome’s influx of wealth shifted the populace’s focus from collective welfare to personal comfort and luxury. Wealthy interests began pulling strings behind the scenes, a phenomenon paralleled today by powerful corporations, PACs, tech giants, and lobbyists seeking to influence policy and elections. Madden recalls the example of Jugurtha, who manipulated Roman politics through partisan maneuvering and outright bribery—so much so that he famously quipped the Republic was “for sale, if it can find a buyer.” While methods today (lobbying and campaign finance) are different, the principle of policy-shaping by the wealthy persists.
Rome experienced fierce political battles over the integration of non-citizens. Politicians like Saturninus sought to enroll non-citizens on the voting rolls, benefiting their faction while provoking popular backlash. Working-class Romans opposed these moves, perceiving threats to their privileges and livelihoods, spurring shifts in political loyalty toward the elite “optimates.” Madden notes a clear analogy: working-class Americans, anxious over immigration’s perceived threat to jobs and status, increasingly lean Republican, mirroring Roman dynamics as concerns over identity and privilege override old alliances.
Madden observes that many Americans treat the presidency as a four-year kingship, fueling emotional distress or disengagement when their candidate loses. This reflects a misunderstanding of America’s distributed system of power, contributing to public frustration and disengagement.
He warns that constitutional erosion often occurs incrementally, with claimed emergencies used to justify ...
America's Health and Warning Signs: Analyzing Indicators of Decline With Parallels to Rome's Hyperpartisanship, Wealth Inequality, and Political Dysfunction
Thomas Madden emphasizes the importance of civic education, arguing that learning the history of the United States, constitutional principles, and the broader history of the West is essential for citizens to develop a meaningful stake in the republic. Without this understanding, Madden warns, citizens lack the foundation necessary to preserve and defend their democratic institutions.
Recent surveys reveal only one-third of Americans can name all three branches of government—legislative, executive, and judicial—underscoring a significant decline in basic constitutional literacy. This education gap leaves many citizens unable to grasp crucial concepts such as checks and balances or constitutional norms, making the public susceptible to demagogues who promise simple solutions to complex problems. Understanding that the republic has three coequal branches is vital; otherwise, people are prone to react with undue hope or despair depending on which party controls the presidency, neglecting the broader constitutional structure designed to mitigate such swings.
Madden contends that citizens should perceive America as a product of historical legacy, sacrifice, and accomplishment. This perspective fosters respect for the nation’s institutions, shifting attitudes away from seeing government as merely a service provider to understanding it as a trust handed down by generations. Learning about America’s moral achievements and failures also nurtures a nuanced form of patriotism—one that inspires citizens to improve their country rather than abandon or dismantle it in the face of shortcomings. Madden references the example of Roman citizens, who were able to preserve their republic for years, even amidst escalating violence, by maintaining a strong cultural memory through the study of their history.
Madden argues that schools are increasingly framing American history as a narrative of national failures without providing balanced context, causing students to become disengaged. The declining emphasis on civics education means citizens struggle to differentiate normal pol ...
Civic Education: Understanding Constitutional History and Citizen Roles Essential for Republic Survival
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