With family business settled, Gaius moved swiftly to implement his reforms. First up was restarting the work of the land commission. The commission still tecÚically existed and Gaius, Flaccus, and Carbo were all still commissioners, but their work had been stalled for years by the Senate decree that consuls had jurisdiction over disputes with the Italians. Flaccus had tried to circumvent the problem by making the Italians full Roman citizens, and when that failed, the commission remained in dry dock. Gaius cut through the legal red tape by passing a bill establishing that the land commissioners had final jurisdiction over all disputed boundaries. The rural poor had always been the bedrock of Gracchan support, and they thrilled at the idea that more ager publicus could now be identified and parceled out.27
But Gaius now wanted to do much more than settle landless plebs on small private plots—he wanted to create whole new communities. Gaius envisioned a whole network of new colonies in Italy, stretching from Etruria in the north, all the way down to Tarentum in the south. All the colonies would be situated on good harbors and improve trade in and out of the Italian interior. To fill these colonies Gaius would not just need landless peasants, but also rich Equestrians who would become the principal merchants of the new colonies; profits both in trade and state contracts to build the roads and streets and harbors made his colonization project attractive to everyone. He even dreamed of overseas expansion, targeting the great harbor of vanquished Carthage as the perfect location for a permanent Roman colony.28
Gaius also launched a broad project to improve and extend the roads of Italy. Introducing for the first time uniform methods and specifications, Gaius’s roads became known for their utility and elegance. They were made from good stone laid on tightly packed sand. They were of uniform height and width and equipped with excellent drainage systems. Gaius also ordered the work crews to mark each mile with a stone pillar so travelers could calculate distances easier. In the long run, Gaius’s roads helped improve lines of communication, supply, and trade. And for short-term political purposes, the roads promised profits for publicani contractors and steady work for rural laborers.29
Since this roadwork would occur way off in the rural hinterlands it offered little for the plebs urbana of Rome. So to secure their support, Gaius promised them what they always wanted: a stable supply of cheap grain. Just as Gaius was coming to office, a plague of locusts decimated crops in North Africa, causing food shortages back in Rome. Gaius introduced legislation directing the state to purchase and stockpile grain and then sell it to citizens for a fixed price. Cicero later denounced the project as an obvious handout to secure political support and said that better men at the time “resisted it because they thought that its effect would be to lead the common people away from industry to idleness.” But this was not the free-grain dole that would later become a hallmark of imperial municipal policy. It was simply offering grain at a fixed price to create some semblance of stability. The plebs urbana loved the bill so much they made further expansion of subsidized grain their central political demand for the next hundred years.30
Gaius then introduced measures to redress thirty years of complaints about the ruinous cost of service in the legions. The state had provided arms, equipment, and clothes for the legions through publicani contractors but always deducted expenses from a soldier’s pay—a ruinous burden for the already impoverished legionaries. Gaius passed a law that the state would stop deducting the expenses. As with the evolution of the grain dole, it would take a century to move from the ad hoc armies of the middle Republic to the permanent legions of Augustus, but Gaius’s law to move expenses from the citizens’ pockets to the state treasury was a big step.31
Finally, Gaius put the capstone on his project with two major pieces of legislation in support of the Equestrians generally but, more specifically, the publicani. The first addressed an issue Gaius had already campaigned against: Aquillius’s settlement in Asia. All the old royal domains had now been converted into Roman ager publicus and were available for taxation, the profits from which would be astronomical. But a controversial clause in the settlement stipulated that tax-farming contracts for Asia would be sold by the Roman governor in Asia, giving the governor control over the flow of enormous wealth. Gaius passed a law stipulating that Asian tax-farming contracts would be sold by the censors back in Rome. It was billed as a measure to curb senatorial power, but it also ensured the largest and most powerful of the publicani companies would be able to monopolize the business. This earned Gaius backing from some of the richest and most influential men in Rome who were already impressed with Gaius’s public works projects. These men were not yet part of the political power structure but were fast being integrated into the system.32
Gaius helped further politicize the publicani with his second major piece of legislation: reform of the Extortion Court. The jury pool of the Extortion Court had always been drawn from the Senate, and the senatorial jurors had long turned a blind eye to each other’s misdeeds. These were, after all, the jurors that had just found Aquillius innocent despite clear evidence of his guilt. Gaius passed a law that barred senators from serving on the jury; instead jurors would be drawn from the ranks of the Equestrians. But not just any Equestrians. To be available for jury duty a man had to be permanently domiciled in Rome. Since the official residence for the majority of Equestrian families was their country estates, the only men “permanently domiciled in Rome” were those who supported themselves strictly through business—especially the publicani. The publicani now had a powerful mechanism to defend their own interests.33
When Gaius was done with all this legislation he not only introduced reforms that anticipated by a hundred years the stable imperial structure of Augustus, but it also put Gaius at the center of a powerful antisenatorial coalition. The plebs urbana, the rural poor, the Equestrians generally, and the publicani particularly were all now arrayed behind Gaius—his success would be their success; his ruin, their ruin. The coalition forged by Gaius would become familiar in years to come as men like Marius, Saturninus, Drusus, Sulpicius, and Cinna would all use the same basic mix to pursue their own antisenatorial agendas.
AS ELECTIONS FOR the next year’s tribunate approached, Gaius appeared ready to pass the baton to his old friend and ally Flaccus, who put himself forward as a candidate. Flaccus running for tribune was all on its own another chink in the unspoken armor of mos maiorum—a former consul had never before stood for the lesser office of tribune. With the backing of Gaius, Flaccus won election easily but then—as a result either of careful planning, unexpected luck, or some combination of the two—Gaius himself won reelection to the tribunate. The very thing that had once been so controversial it had literally gotten his brother killed.34
As shocking as it was, Gaius’s reelection remains historical mystery. We know that Gaius was still not tecÚically a candidate when the elections occurred, but when the results came, a few of the ten tribune slots remained vacant—an unusual but not unheard of outcome. In such cases, it was the tribunes’ prerogative to assign men to fill the vacant seats and Gaius Gracchus was among those appointed. The question is, how much of this drama was preengineered? Was the first vote manipulated to ensure open seats remained? Or was it the spontaneous work of the goddess Fortuna, and Gaius was as surprised as anyone to find himself reelected? We do not know. We only know that Gaius was now tribune for a second consecutive year.35
GAIUS ENTERED HIS second term at the peak of his powers. He was “closely attended by a throng of contractors, artificers, ambassadors, magistrates, soldiers, and literary men, with all of whom he was on easy terms… Thus he was a more skillful popular leader in his private intercourse with men and in his business transactions than in his speeches from the rostra.”36
But there was a core of conservative senators opposed to him. This group had gotten steamrolled during Gaius’s first term but had regrouped for his second term. As had happened to Tiberius, Gaius’s enemies tapped a rival tribune named Marcus Livius Drusus
to do their dirty work. Drusus was himself a rising star in Roman politics. Like Gaius he was eloquent, wealthy, and had been raised to expect a public career. But where Gaius sought advancement through popular reforms, Drusus planned to advance by blocking them. He entered office on a mission to undermine Gaius at every turn—if he was successful he would gain powerful allies in the Senate. Drusus opened by offering a new colonization project of his own. Though Gaius’s plan had until that point been the most ambitious colonization project in history, Drusus now promised twelve new colonies—each with generous land grants and startup capital for three thousand colonists. Fully thirty-six thousand families stood to benefit, and the news sent shockwaves through the population. Drusus also very carefully made sure everyone knew that only Roman citizens qualified for the new colonies. Italians would not be allowed.37
Drusus’s clever dividing of Roman from Italian came just as Gaius was preparing to introduce the measure Flaccus had failed to carry during his consulship: citizenship for the Italians. As a matter of principle and political interest, Gaius supported a broader franchise and had been a frequent spokesman on behalf of the Italians. Gaius proposed those with Latin Rights be elevated to full Roman citizenship, while Allies would be granted Latin Rights. Gaius’s bill fell short of blanket equality proposed in 125 by Flaccus, but this was a massive bomb to lob into the middle of the Forum—especially as it came on the heels of Drusus’s Romans-only colonization project.38
Just as had happened during Flaccus’s consulship, the Senate dealt with Gaius’s call for Italian citizenship by once again expelling non-Roman Italians from entering the city in the run-up to the vote. The decree stated, “Nobody who does not possess the right of suffrage shall stay in the city or approach within [five miles] of it while voting is going on concerning these laws.” Facing a population thoroughly hostile to the bill, Gaius let it die rather than risk his other plans. Another attempt at reform having failed, the issue of Italian citizenship would remain a persistent problem for the Romans. Especially because the Italians were already detecting a pattern: citizenship would be dangled only to be snatched away at the last minute. It was not a game that amused them.39
AFTER LOSING THE vote on Italian citizenship, Gaius sailed for North Africa in the spring of 122. The first of his colonies being built was the most controversial of all. Located on the site of old Carthage, the colony would control a strategically advantageous port, but the superstitious Romans were wary of occupying haunted ground. Leaving Flaccus behind to mind Rome, Gaius personally traveled to Carthage to oversee the founding of the colony. It’s hard to say exactly why Gaius departed Rome at this moment—perhaps it was because he felt that his presence during the building of the colony was important both practically and symbolically. But his support among the people would not hold in his absence.40
Gaius spent seventy days in Africa, and during those seventy days nothing went right. The survey team laying out the plots of land and design of the colony were plagued with problems. A post planted to mark the center of town was hit with a gust of wind and snapped. The entrails for a required sacrifice were similarly scattered by winds. Then wolves set upon the boundary markers and carried them away. And to the superstitious Romans, these problems were not just setbacks, they were proof that the gods did not approve of Gaius’s plans. The Senate would soon be able to use the reports of ominous portents to mount their final attack on Gaius and his followers.41
Meanwhile, back in Rome those followers were dwindling by the day. Flaccus was not nearly as deft as Gaius when it came to politicking and Drusus was running circles around him. With the fabled twelve colonies already making the Gracchan program look stingy, Drusus announced that the land Gaius, Flaccus, and Carbo had distributed as land commissioners—which stipulated rent must be paid to the state—would now be rent-free. Drusus was successfully outflanking the Gracchans from the popular side, and Gaius was now painted as an ungenerous skinflint.42
Gaius returned after his two-month absence to find his political standing had plummeted. The people who once supported him now cheered Drusus. The stories that had come out of Carthage hinted that Gaius was now courting the wrath of the gods themselves. But Gaius refused to back down. When he returned, he vacated his house on the Palatine Hill and took up residence in a smaller house near the Forum—he would live among the people to try to prove that it was he—not Drusus—who had their interests at heart.43
To ensure the survival of his legislation Gaius decided against all precedent to run for a third consecutive term. On election day, Gaius emerged with the necessary number of votes to secure reelection, but the observers who monitored the election tripped over themselves challenging Gaius’s ballots, alleging that most were fraudulent and that the ballot box had been stuffed. It did not take long for the magistrates in charge of the election to agree, toss out most of Gaius’s votes, and declare him defeated. Gaius protested, but there was nothing he could do. The election results were verified and that was that. When the new year arrived, Gaius was out of office, stripped of the immunity from prosecution and the sacrosanct protection from physical harm. Left powerless and unprotected, he was about to be forced to watch his legislation die.44
NEARLY AS BAD as losing the election in 121 was watching Lucius Opimius win the consulship. An avowed enemy of the Gracchi, newly elected consul Opimius made it his personal mission to destroy Gaius Gracchus as he had once destroyed Fregellae. Opimius’s plan was not just to repeal the Gracchan legislation, but to also provoke Gaius into doing something illegal that would justify prosecution and banishment. For his part, Gaius tried to avoid taking the bait, but when Opimius let it be known that he was going to abandon the colony at Carthage, Gaius finally organized some of his old supporters to stage a demonstration. How much genuine support Gaius actually had left is unknown, and there is a passing hint in Plutarch that his mother Cornelia paid non-Romans to sneak back into the city and support her son in his hour of need.45
On the morning that the fate of the colony was slated for debate, two rival factions filtered into the Forum. While Gaius paced in an adjacent portico, Flaccus delivered an energetic speech attacking the tyranny of Opimius and the Senate. With the Gracchan faction riled up, one of Opimius’s servants started making his way through the crowd bearing the entrails for a sacrifice. Some reports state that the servant merely approached Gaius and begged him to not do anything that would destroy the Republic. Plutarch, however, says the servant pushed his way through the crowd, demanding that the Gracchan rascals make way and cursing their impetuousness. Both versions of the story end the same, though: a band of Gracchan supporters surrounded the servant. One of the Gracchans then pulled out a writing stylus that had been sharpened into a shiv and stabbed Opimius’s servant to death.46
When word of the murder filtered through the crowd, the Forum erupted. In the ensuing commotion, Gaius berated his followers for giving the Senate the excuse they needed to crack down and then rushed forward to try to explain that the murder of Opimius’s servant was not what it appeared. But no one wanted to hear it. In the chaos no one could hear it. But a final confrontation was avoided when a heavy rain started to fall, and it drove both sides out of the Forum. As Gaius considered which way to run, he cried, “Whither shall I, unhappy wretch, betake myself? Whither shall I turn? To the Capitol? But that is drenched with the blood of my brother! Or to my home, that I may see my distressed and afflicted mother in all the agony of lamentation?”47
The next day the consul convened the Senate to discuss a response to the events of the previous day. Just as debate was beginning a din broke out in the Forum. The funeral procession bearing Opimius’s murdered servant coincidentally arrived at the Forum as the Senate met. Emerging from the Senate to view the procession, the senators denounced the reckless political violence of the Gracchans and grieved for its victims. But pro-Gracchan citizens present in the Forum heckled the moralizing senators, asking why they were so worked up over a dead servant when ten
years earlier they had dumped the bodies of Tiberius Gracchus and three hundred of his followers into the Tiber without a second thought.48
Insulted by the crowd, the Senate gave Opimius the authority he needed to restore order. They instructed Opimius to do “whatever he thought necessary to preserve the State.” The intent of this vague decree was clearly to authorize Opimius to act as a dictator would—without resurrecting the cumbersome and archaic authority of the Dictatorship itself. Though they did not know it at the time, the Senate’s improvised decree set a precedent for the future. In times of civil unrest the Senate would invoke the same formula, which became known as the senatus consultum ultimum—the Senate’s Final Decree. Opimius promptly ordered every senator to provide two armed men from their households and muster them in the Forum the next morning.49
GAIUS GRACCHUS SPENT his final night as his brother had—surrounded by bodyguards and partisans, knowing that a great confrontation loomed in the morning. Gaius had spent years telling people about his dream: “However much you may try to defer your fate,” the ghost of his brother told him, “you must die the same death that I did.” What had once been a stirring bit of propaganda now seemed morbidly specific. Flaccus seemed unconcerned—even eager—about the looming clash. He and his friends stayed up late drinking and boasting of the fight they would give the no-good bastards in the morning. Gaius was sober. And somber.50
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