Chalmers Johnson’s Nemesis: The Last Days of the American Republic (2006) completes his acclaimed “Blowback Trilogy,” following Blowback: The Costs and Consequences of American Empire (2000) and The Sorrows of Empire: Militarism, Secrecy, and the End of the Republic (2004). Together, these works constitute one of the most sustained and incisive critiques of American imperial power in the post–Cold War era. In Nemesis, Johnson advances his argument to its grim conclusion: that the United States, having succumbed to militarism and imperial overreach, faces the inevitable decline of its republican institutions. The title invokes the Greek goddess of retribution, symbolizing Johnson’s conviction that empire carries within it the seeds of self-destruction.
The book’s central thesis is stark and uncompromising. Johnson argues that the United States has reached a point of no return in its transformation from a constitutional republic into a militarized empire. While The Sorrows of Empire documented the global infrastructure of American bases and the institutionalization of militarism, Nemesis turns inward, focusing on the domestic consequences of this imperial trajectory. Johnson contends that the very foundations of American democracy—the separation of powers, the rule of law, and civic accountability—have been eroded by the rise of the “national security state.” Through a combination of secrecy, executive aggrandizement, and the normalization of war as a permanent condition, he claims, the United States has replicated the path of earlier empires that destroyed themselves through hubris and overextension.
Drawing upon a wide range of historical, political, and sociological sources, Johnson situates contemporary American policy within a longue durée analysis of empire and decline. He argues that the U.S. global base network—at the time encompassing over seven hundred foreign installations—constitutes the material infrastructure of empire, while the ever-expanding defense budget and the intelligence complex provide its institutional and ideological support. The result, he suggests, is a condition of “military Keynesianism,” in which economic prosperity is artificially sustained by defense spending rather than productive investment. This dependence on militarism, Johnson warns, not only distorts the economy but also undermines democratic deliberation and civic responsibility.
Johnson’s argument is organized around three interrelated themes: militarism, secrecy, and the corrosion of constitutional government. He traces how post–September 11 policies—especially the Iraq War, the proliferation of surveillance programs, and the use of torture—have accelerated tendencies already evident during the Cold War. For Johnson, the Bush administration’s assertion of unilateral executive power exemplifies the culmination of a long-term structural transformation, rather than a temporary aberration. The analogy to the late Roman Republic, invoked throughout the text, serves as both a historical parallel and a moral warning: a society that substitutes imperial ambition for republican virtue invites its own nemesis.
Methodologically, Nemesis combines empirical investigation with moral and historical reflection. Johnson’s analysis bridges the fields of international relations, political economy, and constitutional studies, making the book both interdisciplinary and polemical. His earlier background as a political scientist specializing in East Asia and as a former government consultant lends the work a tone of insider disillusionment. Indeed, the trilogy as a whole can be read as a narrative of intellectual conversion—from Cold War strategist to critic of American empire. In Nemesis, this conversion reaches its terminal point: Johnson no longer merely warns of imperial decline; he declares it underway.
Critics of Nemesis have noted the book’s apocalyptic tone and deterministic conclusion. Johnson’s assertion that “the American republic is finished” has been read by some as hyperbolic, given the persistence of electoral institutions and civil society. Others, however, have interpreted his pessimism as a necessary provocation, forcing readers to confront uncomfortable continuities between democracy and empire. The book’s moral and analytical power lies precisely in its refusal to separate the two. Johnson does not claim that empire and democracy are incompatible in principle; rather, he shows how, in practice, the demands of global dominance hollow out the institutions that make democracy meaningful.
Stylistically, Johnson writes with clarity and passion, blending scholarly argument with moral indictment. His prose is accessible yet rigorous, eschewing jargon while maintaining analytical depth. The tone is elegiac, reflecting both outrage and sorrow—a lament for the republic he believes has been lost. His invocation of Nemesis as a classical symbol underscores the tragic dimension of his argument: that the empire’s undoing will come not from external enemies but from the internal contradictions of its own power.
As a work of political diagnosis, Nemesis occupies an important place in the literature on American decline. It stands alongside works such as Andrew Bacevich’s The New American Militarism and Sheldon Wolin’s Democracy Incorporated as a meditation on the structural entrenchment of the national security state. Yet Johnson’s contribution is distinctive in its synthesis of historical analogy, empirical evidence, and moral critique. His insistence that the United States confront the costs of empire—both material and ethical—remains profoundly relevant in the twenty-first century, as the legacies of endless war and surveillance continue to shape the contours of American politics.
Nemesis: The Last Days of the American Republic is a work of moral and intellectual courage. It fuses empirical scholarship with civic engagement, offering a dark but lucid vision of the consequences of unrestrained power. Johnson’s analysis transcends the immediate context of the early 2000s, providing a timeless warning about the fragility of republican institutions under the pressures of empire. Whether or not one accepts his conclusion that the republic is already lost, his central insight—that militarism and democracy are ultimately incompatible—demands sustained reflection. Nemesis thus endures not merely as a critique of American policy but as a meditation on the perennial tension between power and liberty at the heart of political modernity.
GPT