CHAPTER 3
DAGGERS IN THE FORUM
Citizens were not called “good” or “bad” according to their public conduct because in that respect they were all equally corrupt; but those who were wealthiest and most able to inflict harm were considered “good” because they defended the existing state of affairs.
SALLUST1
GAIUS GRACCHUS HAD A DREAM. IN THIS DREAM, HE WAS visited by the ghost of his dead brother Tiberius who said, “However much you may try to defer your fate, nevertheless you must die the same death that I did.” Another version of the dream has Tiberius asking, “Why do you hesitate, Gaius? There is no escape; one life is fated for us both, and one death as champions of the people.” Gaius liked to tell the story of his dream because it gave the impression that he was not just another politician indulging personal ambition: instead he was being called to public service by a higher power. But though he feigned humility it is clear that from a young age, Gaius Gracchus aimed to become the greatest Gracchus of them all.2
Though they were raised in the same house, by the same mother, and with the same tutors, the personalities of Tiberius and Gaius could not have been more different. Plutarch makes much of their divergent temperaments. Where Tiberius was “gentle and sedate,” Gaius was “high-strung and vehement.” Tiberius lived “simple and plain” while Gaius was “ostentatious and fastidious.” When speaking in public, Tiberius relied on quiet empathy while Gaius exuded exaggerated charisma.3
Gaius saw his older brother for the last time in the spring of 134 BC. Twenty-year-old Gaius departed for his first campaign in Spain believing that the family was on the cusp of greatness. His older brother was preparing to introduce the Lex Agraria and vault the next generation of Gracchi to the forefront of Roman politics. But while in Spain Gaius learned that it had all gone terribly awry. Tiberius had carried the Lex Agraria but he had paid for the victory with his life.4
Gaius returned to Rome in 132. It had been less than a year since Tiberius’s death, and Gaius now found himself not just the patriarch of the household, but also expected to be the leader of a political movement his brother had started. Gaius took his first step onto the public stage a few months later when he was called to defend a family friend in court. The power of Gaius’s oratory was the stuff of instant legend. Gaius pioneered a new form of theatrical oratory: he was the first Roman to pace the rostra energetically and pull his toga off his shoulder as he spoke. Even Cicero—an unrelenting critic of the Gracchi—reckoned that Gaius was the finest orator of his generation: “How great was his genius! How great his energy! How impetuous his eloquence! So that all men grieved that all those good qualities and accomplishments were not joined to a better disposition and to better intentions.” Gaius also had a hand in changing speechmaking “from an aristocratic to a democratic form; for speakers ought to address themselves to the people, and not to the Senate.” We do not have any record of this first great speech. The only thing we do know is that Gaius’s performance “made the other orators appear to be no better than children.” He was just twenty-two years old.5
The following year, Gaius continued to put his oratory to use in defense of his family’s legacy. He publicly supported Carbo’s bill to retroactively legitimize Tiberius’s attempt at reelection. Though the bill failed, Gaius’s performances put the political elite on notice that Tiberius would not be the only Gracchus to be reckoned with. Indeed, the leading nobiles began to fret about the power of Gaius, and there was a general consensus that he must not be allowed to become a tribune.6
The nobles were right to fret because the visit from his dead brother was not the only dream Gaius had. Over the past century the Republic had undergone a massive transformation without any comprehensive attempt to refit the ship of state to survive the new waters within which it sailed. Where Tiberius had proposed a single piece of radical agrarian legislation to blunt the effects of rising economic inequality, Gaius dreamed of an entire slate of reforms to ameliorate the most destabilizing aspects of Rome’s imperial expansion. Gaius Gracchus had a dream, and this dream would lead him to share one life with his brother and die a champion of the people.
WHILE GAIUS PUT together the early pieces of his reform package, one thing had already become clear: the future of Rome lay in Italy. As his brother had likely recognized in the early draft of the Lex Agraria, restoring the health of the Republic meant restoring the health of all Italians—not just Roman citizens. It was time to stop treating the Italian Allies as foreigners rather than what they really were: integral members of the Roman community. The loose, Roman-led confederation that had knitted the peninsula together over the last two hundred years was exhausted. With the Mediterranean now revolving around Italy it was time for the peninsula to unify.7
In the years after Tiberius’s death, fellow land commissioner Marcus Fulvius Flaccus had become something of an older brother to Gaius. While Gaius was just starting his public career, Flaccus was on the cusp of a consulship. When it came time to run, he introduced a provocative idea that he most likely discussed with Gaius in advance: to make every Italian a full Roman citizen. While this proposal had enormous long-term implications, it was premised on the more immediate and practical concern of resolving disputes with the land commission. Flaccus believed that “the Italian Allies should be admitted to Roman citizenship so that, out of gratitude… they might no longer quarrel about the land.” And though their gratitude was key, even more important was that by accepting citizenship the legal roadblock that had stalled the agrarian commission would be resolved. Flaccus and Gaius both believed the Italians would make that deal.8
Offering the Italians full citizenship was, of course, a radical proposition that sent shivers up the spines of the conservative nobility in Rome. They could not stand the thought of their subjects becoming their equals. But Flaccus also ran into difficulty with the common plebs urbana who jealously guarded the privileges of citizenship. To guard against the proposal, the Senate induced a tribune to expel all noncitizens from Rome in preparation for the consular election. If Flaccus wanted to win on a platform of citizenship for the Italians, he was going to have to sell it to the Roman citizens. Periodic expulsions of foreigners became a recurring feature of the later Republic, and Cicero deplored the practice, saying, “It may not be right… for one who is not a citizen to exercise the rights and privileges of citizenship,” but actually expelling non-Romans was “contrary to the laws of humanity.”9
But Flaccus won the consulship anyway and in January 125 he unveiled his plan for Italian citizenship. But though he was now consul Flaccus still had the problem of convincing the Assembly to vote it into law, especially since now only Romans were present in the city. It is difficult to say what would have happened had the bill actually come to a vote, but fortunately for the Senate, an opportunity arose to deflect Flaccus’s attention. Envoys from the allied Greek city of Massilia (modern Marseilles, in France) arrived in Rome to complain about marauding Gallic tribes. The Senate assigned Flaccus to go repel the attackers. Either because he sensed that his bill wasn’t going to pass, or because he prioritized military glory over social reform, Flaccus left for Gaul and did not return to Rome before his consulship expired. The bill for Italian citizenship expired with his consulship. This would be the first step in a long and tortuous battle for full Italian citizenship that would not end until thirty years later—and then only after hundreds of thousands lay dead and the Republic itself was nearly extinguished by civil war.10
WHEN THE ITALIAN citizenship bill died, at least one Italian city did not take the news well. In late 125 the city of Fregellae went into revolt. A former Roman colony that had been planted in 328 during the heat of the Samnite Wars, Fregellae had subsequently stayed loyal to Rome during the long struggle against Hannibal. The city was, in fact, noted for its exemplary service against the Carthaginians. Citizens of Fregellae destroyed a key bridge to stymie Hannibal’s advance in 211 and then resisted pressure to capitulate even af
ter Hannibal laid waste to their farms in retaliation. For their steadfast loyalty, the Senate included them among those cities by whose “aid and succor the dominion of Rome was upheld.”11
The details of the Fregellae revolt are practically nonexistent, but it was not considered threatening enough to demand consular attention. Instead, the Senate dispatched praetor Lucius Opimius to end the rebellion in early 124. As Roman leaders go, Opimius was forged from a particularly brutal mold. Opimius proceeded to sack and demolish Fregellae so that “of the city whose brilliance but yesterday irradiated Italy, scarce the debris of the foundations now remains.” The brutality of the sack was possibly a direct warning to other Italian cities who might in the future think of following Fregellae’s lead. Future Romans would link the destruction of Fregellae to the string of demolished cities that stood as bare witnesses to Rome’s expanding imperial self-confidence: “By the Roman people Numantia was destroyed, Carthage razed, Corinth demolished, Fregellae overthrown.” But when Opimius returned to Rome the Senate denied his request for a triumph. They felt that while the object may have been to cow the Italians, rubbing their noses in it was a bit over the top.12
Opimius’s brutal suppression of Fregellae turned out to be only the first example of the cold-blooded tactics he was willing to employ in defense of the existing order. Opimius would be elected consul in 121 and take center stage in the final showdown of the Gracchan revolution—a revolution that reignited just as Opimius returned home from the sack of Fregellae.13
GAIUS GRACCHUS WAS not in Rome as this drama played out. He was elected quaestor in 126 and posted to the island of Sardinia, where he continued to make a name for himself. The winter of 126–125 was particularly hard and the legionaries suffered badly from a lack of proper supplies and clothing. The Roman governor forcibly requisitioned material from the towns of Sardinia to feed and clothe his men, but when the Sardinians sent an embassy to Rome to complain, the Senate canceled the requisitions and ordered the governor to supply his men some other way. This “some other way” turned out to be Gaius Gracchus making a circuit of the island during which he used the full power of his persuasive oratory to convince the Sardinians to supply the Romans of their own free will. The Sardinians were convinced and contributed voluntarily.14
When the Senate heard of Gaius’s successful campaign, they did not congratulate him so much as fret over what would happen when his persuasive brand of charismatic oratory returned to the Forum. So they conspired to keep him in Sardinia for as long as possible. It was perfectly normal for a consul to transition into a proconsul when his annual term of office expired, and it was also normal for his staff to stay on with him. So the Senate extended the Sardinian command for another year, and Gaius remained in Sardinia. But then the following year the Senate extended everyone again, which was highly irregular. Not since the Punic Wars had such multiple extensions been necessary—and with Sardinia peaceful and subdued, it was a curious decision.15
Gaius suspected that the extensions had less to do with the necessity of keeping the consul in Sardinia than with keeping Gaius Gracchus out of Rome. So to counter these highly irregular orders, Gaius broke out a highly irregular response. Ignoring the mos maiorum that a staff officer was obligated to stay with his commander for the duration of their provincial assignment, Gaius simply packed up his belongings and headed back to Rome in the spring of 124. The Senate was outraged at his unexpected appearance in the city. Seeing happy throngs of cheering citizens greet him at the docks only darkened their mood.16
But though their plan to trap Gaius in Sardinia had failed, that did not mean conservatives were going to let him waltz into the tribunate unopposed. Immediately upon his return Gaius was hauled before the censors to answer for the abandonment of his commander. It was while defending himself from this charge that Gaius delivered one of his most famous speeches. With his honor besmirched, he defended his conduct in Sardinia, saying that while others used their provincial postings to oppress the locals and make themselves rich, “when I left for Rome, I brought back empty from the province the purses which I took there full of money. Others have brought home overflowing with money the jars which they took to their province filled with wine.” This was a pointed rejoinder to the men accusing him of civic immorality, many of whom had indeed spent their service abroad drinking wine and filling the empty bottles with treasure.17
There were limits, though, to the powers of the censors to punish Gaius for his alleged transgressions. It is possible however that the moral approbation was meant to merely lay the groundwork for a more serious charge—one that would be heard in a criminal court. Conjuring up a vague Italian conspiracy theory, Gaius’s enemies accused him of helping foment the rebellion of Fregellae. Gaius’s pro-Italian bias would have been well known by now, and conservative senators tried to link that bias to actual treason against the Senate and People of Rome. The charges were of course ridiculous, as Gaius had been in Sardinia for the whole length of the uprising, but they still created a scandalous cloud that forced Gaius to respond. Records are scant, but we know that Gaius successfully dodged the accusations and began campaigning for his destined tribunate.18
THE TRIBUNATE ELECTION for 123 was particularly fierce as the bulk of the nobles organized their clients to oppose Gaius’s election. But the broad popularity of the Gracchi name and the power of Gaius’s oratory were irresistible. Citizens poured into Rome from the surrounding countryside, and in the days leading up to the election there was not housing enough for all of them. Even the wide-open Campus Martius was soon overcrowded to the point where men occupied the rooftops.19
While Gaius campaigned, a bill came before the Assembly to finally ratify the settlement of Asia that had been engineered by Aquillius. Ten years had now passed since the death of King Attalus, and the settlement of Asia was only just now ready for ratification. It had run into an unexpected delay when reports of Aquillius’s shameful conduct filtered back to Rome. Among other things, Aquillius stood accused of taking bribes from King Mithridates V of Pontus to settle the border to Mithridates’s advantage. Since the charges were 100 percent true, all signs pointed to an open-and-shut conviction. But instead the jury acquitted Aquillius. This was partly thanks to the incomparable oratory of Marcus Antonius, a rising young star who defended Aquillius in court. But it was also thanks to the money Aquillius spread among the jurors—essentially using bribe money to bribe his way out of accusations of bribery.20
After the scandal died down, the final bill to ratify Aquillius’s settlement of Asia came before the Assembly and Gaius came out strongly in opposition. Whether there was anything particularly objectionable in the administrative regime established by Aquillius is lost to history and likely beside the point. Gaius not only wanted to use the issue of Asia to lambast the corruption of the Senate, but he had his own plans for how to settle Asia and wanted to ensure he had a clean slate to work with.21
But while the issue of Asia made for good antisenatorial fodder, there was no issue Gaius exploited more than the tragic story of his brother. “Before your eyes,” he would say, “these men beat Tiberius to death with clubs, and his dead body was dragged from the Capitol through the midst of the city to be thrown into the Tiber… those of his friends who were caught were put to death without trial.” And though much of this was intentionally manipulative there is no reason to think it was pure cynicism. Tiberius had been murdered by powerful men who had escaped punishment. No Roman would ignore the chance to settle matters of family honor, especially in such a public way.22
When election day came Gaius was elected easily, and upon taking office in December 124 the force of his reputation and power of his ambition made him indisputably the “first of all the tribunes.”23
THE BREADTH AND depth of Gaius’s reform package was unprecedented. After what must have been years of careful preparation, Gaius Gracchus entered the tribunate of 123 with a multifaceted platform designed to appeal to different interest groups. If enacted in f
ull, that platform would curb the power of the Senate and restore the balance of the Polybian constitution. It was later said that when Gaius was done, “he left nothing undisturbed, nothing untouched, nothing unmolested, nothing, in short, as it had been.”24
But before he could get to ambitious sociopolitical reform, Gaius had some family business to settle. The first bill he introduced was aimed squarely at Octavius, the tribune whose obstinacy had contributed so much to Tiberius’s death. Gaius introduced a bill making it illegal for a man deposed from office by the Assembly to serve as a magistrate ever again. If enacted, this would end Octavius’s public career. But famously, Cornelia interceded and Gaius withdrew the bill, which some historians have suggested may have been a stage-managed affair to establish Gracchan benevolence while slyly confirming the principle that the Assembly could depose a magistrate if it wanted to—which was still not yet an established point of law.25
Gaius next aimed for the men who had persecuted his brother’s followers. Gaius claimed that the extraordinary tribunal of 132 had violated the Assembly’s supremacy in capital cases. To make sure it never happened again Gaius introduced a bill saying that the Senate could only convene a tribunal after receiving permission from the Assembly. The Senate would never again be able to repeat the repressive tribunal of 132. But the new law went further than simply ensuring such tribunals would be illegal in the future—Gaius’s law was also retroactive. There was no prohibition against ex post facto legislation of this kind, and a person could find themselves guilty of breaking a law that did not exist at the time of the alleged crime—for example, Rupilius and Laenas, the two consuls who had led the tribunal in 132. By the time Gaius was passing this ex post facto law Rupilius was already dead, but his colleague Laenas was alive and well. When the law passed, tearful friends accompanied Laenas to the gates of Rome and he departed for exile.26
The Storm Before the Storm Page 8