The year is 501 BC, and the Roman Republic is threatened by a powerful enemy. Following a procedure recognized in Roman law, Titus Larcius is appointed to be Rome’s first dictator.
To deal with that threat, he was given virtually unlimited power for a fixed period of time. Dictators could rule without involving the public assembly or any other public officials. Their decisions were unreviewable and final.
They could punish whoever they wanted for any reason. They could order private businesses to serve the state or to close.
According to the historian Livy, Mamercus Aemilius Mamercinus↻—who would himself become a dictator—noted the liberties of Roman citizens were “most securely guarded when those who held great powers did not hold them long, and when offices which could not be limited in their jurisdiction were limited in their tenure.”
After having successfully dealt with the external threat, Larcius resigned as dictator. He did so before his term expired.
In later years, Roman dictators appointed themselves for unlimited terms. They proclaimed themselves tribunes of the people but were most interested in power and glory for themselves.
Julius Caesar was even named “dictator for life” before he was assassinated.
Unlimited power, unlimited tenure. Since Caesar, those have been the hallmarks of dictatorial regimes.
In the United States today, we see signs of the emergence of America‘s first dictatorship. But so far, many have been reluctant to use that term to describe President Trump and his administration.
Autocrat, authoritarian, maybe, but not dictator. The choice of language matters.
Many may not know what an autocrat or an authoritarian is, or why they are bad. A dictator has much more resonance.
As Perry Bacon urges, it is time for the media, the Democratic Party, and others who wish to oppose the erosion of democracy to tell a single story focusing on “Trump’s dictatorial tendencies.”
Without that, the American people will not be galvanized to push back in a sustained and effective way.
The clock is ticking.
As The Atlantic’s George Packer writes, the emerging dictatorial regime “asks very little of the people.” It “keeps the public content with abundant calories and dazzling entertainment, its dominant emotions aren't euphoria and rage, but indifference and cynicism.”
Unless we can rouse ourselves and put the preservation of democracy and the rule of law at the top of our priorities, President Trump may get to be a dictator and not just on “Day 1.”
Indeed, some of his most ardent supporters are now calling on him to assume dictatorial powers. Last month, Laura Loomer, one of the president’s most influential allies, said, “I do want President Trump to be the ‘dictator’ the Left thinks he is.”
She added, “I want the right to be as devoted to locking up and silencing our violent political enemies as they pretend we are. I’ve had enough of the Left only thinking we will defund them, prosecute them, lock them up, and dismantle their power for generations to come. It just needs to happen.”
The president has taken note of such comments. He recently observed, “A lot of people are saying, ‘Maybe we like a dictator,’” though he insisted, “I’m not a dictator. I’m a man with great common sense and a smart person.”
Such denials are common in contemporary dictatorial regimes. And as Princeton University Professor Kim Lane Scheppele notes, “Most modern dictators try to hide their aspirations….”
“[L]eaders such as Russia’s Vladimir Putin, Hungary’s Viktor Orbán, and Turkey’s Recep Tayyip Erdoğan,” Scheppele explains, “have gone to ‘great lengths’ to avoid looking like ‘20th-century dictators’ in the hopes they can avoid the label.”
“Not a dictator.” You would never know it from what he has done since he returned to the Oval Office in January.
Examples are legion. Just ask Jim Comey or Jimmy Kimmel, the residents of Los Angeles, Washington D.C., or maybe Portland, Oregon.
In addition, on Sunday, Sept. 28, the Washington Post reported that, “The White House is developing a plan that could change how universities are awarded research grants, giving a competitive advantage to schools that pledge to adhere to the values and policies of the Trump administration on admissions, hiring, and other matters.”
If this policy is implemented, “To get a grant, you [will] need to not demonstrate merit, but ideological fealty to a particular set of political viewpoints.”
In our emerging dictatorship, it seems that doing what the president tells you to do is necessary for survival. As Andrew Sullivan argues, Trump is like “a wild boar—psychologically incapable of understanding anything but dominance and revenge, with no knowledge of history, crashing obliviously and malevolently through the ruined landscape of our constitutional democracy…[because he] cannot tolerate any system where he does not have total control.”
Surveys suggest that a majority of the American people worry that Sullivan is correct. In March, 52% of the respondents to a national poll agreed that Trump is "a dangerous dictator whose power should be limited before he destroys American democracy."
In addition, the New York Times reported that many young voters who voted for Trump in 2024 now regret doing so. When asked for the first word that came to mind when they think of the president, one of them replied, “The way that he’s been handling things recently, dictatorship.”
Not surprisingly, the view that the president is a dictator is much more prevalent among Democrats than among Republicans. Indeed, “81% of Republicans surveyed said they still believe that ‘Trump is a strong leader who should be given the power he needs to restore America's greatness.’"
Conservative commentators insist that “Donald Trump’s U.S. is far from a dictatorship.” As Niall Ferguson explains, the “‘imperial presidency’ long predates Trump.” It dates back, at least, to “Franklin Roosevelt’s… New Deal…power grab by the executive branch.”
Moreover, he argues, “The prelude to dictatorship is often civil war or anarchy. Americans may be polarised, but they are not at war with one another.”
“The serious student of history,” Ferguson adds, “knows that the United States today is a very long way from Italy in 1927 or Germany in 1938. And now, as then, it seems much more likely from a geopolitical standpoint that the U.S. will end up in conflict with the truly authoritarian regimes than fighting alongside them.”
I wish I could agree with Ferguson, but I can’t.
The presidents he cites were driven by an ideological agenda. Trump is not. They did not seek to control culture, industry, and entertainment. Trump does. They did not seek to prosecute and jail people who opposed them. Trump does.
As to who we will fight alongside, it is not clear whether it will be Russia and Saudi Arabia or Canada and Mexico.
That’s why I think that America’s first dictatorship is emerging.
At this point, there are two mistakes we can make. We can act as if that regime is emerging, and organize to resist it, only to be proven wrong.
Or we can act as if a dictatorial regime is not emerging, and do nothing, only to wake up one morning to learn that Trump, in a Caesar-like gesture, has pronounced himself “president for life.”
The survival of liberty and democracy depends on choosing to make the right mistake.
Austin Sarat is the William Nelson Cromwell professor of jurisprudence and political science at Amherst College.



















Americans across the political spectrum have continued to ask about the late financier and convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein’s connections among the political elite. (Angela Weiss/AFP)
A view of the U.S. Capitol in Washington, D.C., on June 25, 2026. President Donald Trump jolted Republicans during a fiery appearance at the U.S. Capitol on Wednesday, scrapping a housing bill signing ceremony and clashing behind closed doors with a party rebel who challenged him over the Iran war. Trump had been expected to sign the bipartisan housing.
Only Trump doesn’t care about housing
It was August 15, 2024. Then candidate Donald Trump stepped out of his Bedminster, New Jersey, golf club’s columned clubhouse to a gaggle of reporters. He was flanked by tables of groceries and signs showing the rising cost of food. Also on one of the tables was a dollhouse, meant to represent the equally alarming rise in housing prices.
It was a speech about the economy, the single most important issue of the 2024 election cycle, full of promises that went right to the heart of Americans’ anxieties. While former President Joe Biden and then Vice President Kamala Harris were contorting themselves to posture a good economy that just needed more time to recover from the pandemic, Trump was preying on voters’ very real fears of unaffordable gas, groceries, and homes. It was obviously a winning message.
In that speech, Trump promised, “We’re going to open up tracts of federal land for housing construction. We desperately need housing for people who can’t afford what’s going on now.”
As of mid-2023, there had been a housing shortage of nearly four million homes, according to the National Association of Realtors. Americans all over the country were either priced out of buying new homes due to low inventory, trapped in their existing homes by sky-high mortgage rates, or facing exorbitant rent hikes thanks to corporate investors buying up rental properties. Americans needed help, and Trump promised it.
Cut to March of 2026, when Trump reportedly told House Speaker Mike Johnson, “No one gives a sh*t about housing.”
That kind of thinking may explain why Trump this week suddenly announced he was canceling a signing ceremony for the bipartisan “21st Century ROAD to Housing Act,” a housing bill co-sponsored by Sens. Elizabeth Warren and Tim Scott that passed the House 358-32 and was approved in the Senate on Monday.
Trump instead demanded Congress pass the SAVE America Act, his controversial election grievance bill that doesn’t have enough Republican support to get passed in the Senate.
It’s just the latest in a line of policy self-owns where Trump has seemingly intentionally made life more difficult for Republicans hoping to keep their majority. Despite midterm elections occurring in the midst of a blistering economy and an unpopular war, they were surely hoping the housing bill would give them something — anything — to brag about when they returned home to their districts.
And very much to the contrary, Americans do give a sh*t about housing. According to a recent survey by the Bipartisan Policy Center, a whopping 79% say the cost of housing is extremely or very important to them. Eighty-three percent say Congress should take action on the issue — like it just did. Eighty-nine percent say the House and Senate need to work together to pass affordable housing legislation — like they just did. And 63% say they would be more likely to vote for a lawmaker if they helped pass legislation to build more affordable homes and lower housing costs — like they just did.
There aren’t many issues that unite Americans like housing does, and very few bipartisan policy wins Congress can point to, and yet, Trump is holding that bill hostage in order to get his pet project — which doesn’t even have the support of his own party — pushed through.
If you’re trying to make sense of something so nonsensical, as I’m sure many Republican lawmakers are, it’s certainly sad but not actually all that complicated. Trump said what he needed to get reelected and then promptly abandoned his promises in order to pursue his own self-interests, even if those interests are bad for Republicans and bad for voters.
That’s just the kind of guy he is.
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.