Gladiator II’s warning to America

“A republic, if you can keep it.”

So went Benjamin Franklin’s reply when asked about the kind of government the Constitutional Convention had just birthed. More than simply declarative, Franklin’s answer was a warning: Republics require a lot of maintenance. It’s been nearly 25 years since Maximus Decimus Meridius died in Gladiator to make Rome a republic again. Gladiator II makes it clear he failed, if through no fault of his own. Real history concurs. At no point following Julius Caesar’s crossing of the Rubicon would Rome ever truly be a republic again. There’s a warning for America implicit in that as well.

Republicanism looked good on Rome. Her military, architectural, and institutional brilliance facilitated expansion across the Mediterranean, building a wonderous infrastructure of roads, bridges, aqueducts, and ports that facilitated trade and enriched her. She was a thing to behold. Admittedly, Rome, after the Republic succumbed to itself, also wore Empire well. While the compelled peace of Pax Romana meant subjugation for conquered peoples, it was, more than any available alternative, capable of bringing stability and creating and preserving interconnected webs of culture, civilization, art, and tradition (and don’t forget “the sanitation, the medicine, education, wine, public order, irrigation, roads, the freshwater system, and public health”) that helped even those beneath the Roman yoke to prosper. Gladiator makes clear Rome, despite her imperfections, could earn a good man’s devotion. Recall Maximus, after subduing Germanic tribesmen at Vindobona, defending the Roman vision: “I’ve seen much of the rest of the world, it is brutal and cruel and dark. Rome is the light.”

By Gladiator II, this luminescence is in jeopardy. Following his own victorious opening battle, Gen. Marcus Acacius declares over the conquered enemy: “I claim this city for the glory of Rome.” But it’s very clear his heart is not in it. We soon learn why. Despotic rule has again seized the capital. The dream that was Rome is once again rotting from within. A continuing question throughout both Gladiator films is whether Rome is worth the life of one good man. Gen. Acacius appears on the cusp of saying “No.”

This matters. Both films also address themes of war weariness. Gens. Maximus and Acacius, men of violence, fighting to advance the Roman Pax, are more than simply physically exhausted. They long to return home. But duty calls, and each is willing to continue having his life spent—and to spend the lives of his men—for the glory of Rome. Neither, of course, are willing to waste them. This should resonate with us.

Of late, there is increasing doubt among America’s young that military service is meaningful. In 2023, only the Marines met recruiting goals, with the other branches suffering as much as a 20% shortfall. While other factors are involved, increasing political and ideological polarization—resulting in a loss of confidence in the direction the country is going and doubt whether the government has our best interests in mind—is a leading cause of the unwillingness to serve. Given the demands of increasing tensions with peer-level adversaries, this is a national security crisis.

The remedy is two-pronged. At the end of Gladiator, Lucilla, daughter of Marcus Aurelius, stands over the fallen Maximus. She addresses those around her, leading with the perennial question: “Is Rome worth one good man’s life?” She follows with a pair of mandates. First, she looks to Sen. Gracchus and proclaims, “We believed it once. Make us believe it again.” This is appropriate: As a private citizen, she is giving a charge to an elected official—do your job. Remember our founding ideals. Make us great—again.

Her second charge is also apt. She turns to the masses around her, who hold no real political power themselves. In reference to Maximus she says, “He was a soldier of Rome. Honor him.” In placing a duty on the rank and file, Lucilla reminds them—and us—that, unlike a gladiatorial contest, a republic is not a spectator sport. Taken from res publica—or “people’s concern”—a republic is, by definition, a form of government in which governing power derives from the people governed. A republic places duties on its people. Not just mandated obligations: paying taxes; registering for selective service, if required; or obeying laws, but, perhaps more importantly, those almost-voluntary acts like staying informed about important issues, wise voting, participating in community initiatives, advocating for causes, and living responsibly to help shape the character of society in ways that reflect a shared love for true, good, and beautiful things. The degree to which citizens of a republic shirk this responsibility is the degree to which those who don’t love true, good, and beautiful things will seize and misapply this responsibility for us.

We best honor those who serve by being worthy of their service. It’s also the only way to keep a republic—and this one is worth keeping.