[Edited
March 3, 2024]
THE ROMAN
REPUBLIC
For
convenience sake, historians divide Roman history up into three
periods, each named for the governmental type Rome had
at the time.
1.
The Roman Monarchy (753-509)
2. The Roman Republic (509-31 BC)
3. The Roman Empire (31 BC—AD
476 in the West and to AD 1453 in the East)
During the
period of the monarchy, Rome wasn’t very important,
and so we don’t cover that period in this class.
The stories of the monarchy, however, are fascinating,
and you might enjoy reading them on your own in the opening
chapters of Livy’s great History of Rome.
Equally
interesting, and much more important, is the story of Republican
Rome—a story that, told in full, has some exceptionally valuable
lessons for us. It’s a story full of surprises. The story of the
rise of Republican Rome is one of the most amazing success
stories in all history. Even more surprising is Rome’s
continued success during the last days of the Republic, the
period we call the Roman Revolution (133-31 BC).
During
the
Republican period (509 BC to 31 BC), Rome
grows from a small city state, perhaps not much bigger than Groton, and ends up dominating all most
the entire Mediterranean. The
equivalent today would be a town the size of Groton to grow to
the point where it dominated first South Dakota, then all of the
Midwest, then the United States, and finally turning all of
North America into the great Grotonian empire.
Quite a surprise…
And yet, not
quite such a surprise as it might seem at first. A closer look
at the Roman people shows that they had from their earliest days
many of the qualities that make for success.
One key to early
Roman success was what the Romans themselves called VIRTUS. “Virtus” comes from the Latin
word “vir” which means “man.” However,
a better translation for us would perhaps be excellence. The Romans strove for excellence in
all that they did—and perhaps Diogenes would have been more
successful in his search for a true man if he had crossed the
Adriatic and looked in Rome.
An important
part of virtus was what the Romans called pietas,
piety. The Romans had a religious ceremony for every
occasion—and they were convinced that they had their
relationship with the gods exactly right. The
worked to maintain the pax deorum, a kind of
treaty with the gods. Roman historians and poets constantly
pointed to Roman religion as one of the reasons for Roman
success.
And modern
historians would agree. One historian writes that it was Roman
religion that gave the Romans their “doggedness, and
determination.” The Romans lost
battles: they never lost wars. They
always held on, always expecting that, in the end, the gods were
on their side.
Roman pietas
extended to their ancestors as well. The Romans preserved masks
of the men (and sometimes the women) of each generation, getting
out those masks for ceremonial events. Here was a constant
reminder of what one was living for: to add glory, honor, and
dignity to the family tradition.
Another part of
virtus was gravitas. We
get our word gravity from gravitas, but a better
translation is probably seriousness. The
Romans took themselves and their responsibilities seriously. This included both family
responsibility and civic responsibility. During the early
Republic, adultery was rare and divorce almost unheard of.
Stable families: again, a key for transmitting cultural values
from one generation to the next. And as to civic responsibility,
consider the Roman consul Brutus whose commitment to duty meant
he was willing to pass sentence of death even on his own sons
when they were found plotting against Rome.
Another key to
Roman success: Roman respect for authority, symbolized by the fasces.
Although the Romans elected their leaders, once the leaders were
elected, the Romans respected their leaders’ authority: a tricky
business, but a major source of strength.
In
addition, Rome
was successful because of her ability to solve internal
political problems peacefully. The
great example of this: the Struggle of Orders.
During the early
days of the Republic, Romans were divided into two classes, the
patricians and the plebeians. The patricians were the most
powerful 50 or so families in Rome—about 10% of the
population. The plebeians? Everyone else.
Initially, all
power was in the hands of the patricians. Only
patricians could be consuls, the chief executive and military
officers of Rome. Only patricians could be praetors, the
judicial officers of Rome. Only patricians could be quaestors,
the financial officers of Rome. And only patricians
were eligible for the senate, the chief legislative body of Rome.
Naturally,
with
all power in the hands of the patricians, the plebeians were
often treated unjustly. They could
easily have staged an armed revolt, even wiping out the
patricians as a class if they had wanted. Instead,
they used only the peaceful technique of seccessio (essentially,
going on strike) to achieve their goals.
And they did win a series of important concessions:
1.
The right to elect 10 sacrosanct tribunes, men who could
stand up and speak for others without fear of retribution of any
kind (470 BC).
2.
The Twelve Tables, the first written law code for Rome
(450 BC).
3.
The right to intermarry with the patricians and the right
to hold offices like the consulate.
4.
The lex hortensia (287 BC), a law which gave the
plebeians the right to pass legislation binding on the Roman
state in their assemblies whether or not the senate consented. In other words, now the plebians could
make any law they wanted and had the ultimate say in any
matter—at least theoretically.
The important
thing to notice is that, in the long, long struggle to secure
their rights, the plebeians, with very real grievances, never
once used violence to gain their ends.
This served Rome
well, because, had the Romans been fighting one another, they
could never have won the victories that led to the growth of
Roman power.
Republican Rome
was constantly at war, first with Rome’s
immediate
neighbors, then for control of Italy,
and then for control of the lands bordering the Mediterranean.
Rome’s victories in these wars show both what’s surprising
and not so surprising about Roman success.
A good example, the three Punic Wars (264-241, 218-202,
149-146).
The Punic Wars
were wars against Carthage,
originally a Phoenician colony (hence the name Punic).
The first Punic
war was fought over control of Sicily, and, one would have
thought that the Carthaginians, a seafaring power, would have a
great advantage when fighting for control of an
island—especially since Rome had no navy at all.
Well, the Roman got their navy. They
took a wrecked Carthaginian ship as their model and built for
themselves ships just like the Carthaginian ships.
A now they are an equal to Carthage on the seas? Well, they shouldn’t have been, but Rome
found a way to overcome superior Carthaginian sailing skills
and, eventually won the 1st Punic War.
The second Punic
War also started badly for the Romans. Led
by Hannibal, Carthage attacked Rome
from the north, defeating Roman forces at Trasimene, Trebia,
and, finally (216) at Cannae. The Romans lost 50,000 men in a single
day in that last battle. But the
Romans lost battles: they never lost wars.
Though their commanding officers had clearly blown it,
the Roman people rallied behind them and held on. And the Romans
learned. They copied and imitated some of Hannibal’s strategies. They figured out how to deal with
attacking elephants. And they won
the 2nd Punic War as well.
And the Romans
finished the job. Cato (this Cato we often call Cato the Censor
to distinguish him from later Cato’s), constantly reminded the
Romans of the danger Carthage
posed to Rome
and its culture. He conclude all
his speeches (no matter the topic) with the words “delenda
est Carthago,” Carthage
must be destroyed.
In these days of
cultural relativism, we find it hard to identify with Cato’s
view, and so hard to understand what’s going on here. But Cato
clearly believed that Roman society stood for something good,
that Carthage
stood for something evil. And the Carthaginians were a cruel and
corrupt people. Just as during WWII Americans believed they
stood for something noble against the evils of totalitarianism,
so Roman belief that they stood for something noble was a
strength to them. And eventually Carthage
was destroyed in the 3rd Punic War (though Cato
didn’t live to see it).
But Rome’s successes in warfare created a
complicated political situation in Rome—and were beginning to
affect Roman virtus as well.
Rather than just
two competing classes, Rome
now had lots of competing interests.
1.
A few of the most successful plebeian families joined
with the patricians and became what we call the Senatorial
class.
2.
Other successful plebeians formed a slightly less
privileged group, the Equestrians.
3.
Many plebeians, however, lost their farms, came to the
cities, and found few opportunities for gainful employment. These people constitute what we call
the proletarians.
4.
Rome’s Italian Allies constituted yet another interest
group, cities that had aided Rome in it’s victories over
Carthage and in the Macedonian Wars.
5. Rome
also governed many subject peoples, people who sometimes
preferred Roman governors to their native rulers, but who might
prefer independence as well.
6.
Finally, there were tens of thousands of often cruelly
treated slaves who might stage a revolt at any time.
Perhaps
Rome could have once again solved its problems peacefully, but,
instead, the Romans end up going through a hundred year period
we call the Roman Revolution (133-31 BC), a period in which the
Romans eventually lose their ability to be a self-governing
people.
The
Roman Revolution began with the Grachhi brothers, Tiberius and
Gaius Grachhus. The Gracchi were
from one of the most distinguished families of Rome. Nevertheless, in 133 BC, Tiberius
Gracchus decided to run, not for Consul, but for Tribune,
wanting to be one of the ten sacrosanct spokesman for the people
of Rome
as a whole.
Once
elected, T. Gracchus proposed a plan to restore the plebeian
small farmers. He
proposed taking public land and selling it to landless
proletarians on good terms. Why?
Well, without land and a decent income, Roman soldiers couldn’t
afford the proper equipment, and Gracchus had realized that an
inadequate base from which to recruit soldiers was going to mean
military disaster for Rome.
His plan was a
good one…but the senate said no. Why? Because senators were using that
public land as if it were there own, and they simply did not
want to give it up.
Gracchus decided
the issue was too important to give up on, and so he took the
matter to the assembly which, by the lex hortensia of
287 had the right to pass legislation binding on the Roman state
with our without the consent of the senate.
After
some political maneuverings (and some legally questionable
actions on both sides), T. Gracchus got his legislation passed.
Well begun—half done: but only half done. T. Gracchus decided to
run for a 2nd term as tribune, and the senators just
wouldn’t put up with this. They
armed their followers and chased Tiberius Gracchus through the
streets, eventually clubbing him to death and killing some 300
of his followers.
The
senate was back in charge, and all was right with the Roman
world. Except that it wasn’t. Tiberius Gracchus wanted his reforms
for an important reason: restoring the plebians was essential to
the success of the Roman army, and some of his surviving
supporters could see this.
In
123 BC, Gaius Gracchus decided to take over where his brother
had left off. He ran successfully
for tribune in 123 and 122, and carried out a series of reforms
somewhat broader than his brother had championed him. He was
unsuccessful in his third try for tribune, and, losing his
sacrosanct status, he was all of a sudden vulnerable. The senate took advantage: armed the
followers for an attack. The
attempts of Gaius Grachhus and his supporters to defend
themselves were all the excuse they needed. Gaius Gracchus was
killed—and this time 3,000 of his followers.
The
senate was in charge, and all was right with the Roman world.
Except that it wasn’t.
The
Grachhi had wanted their reforms for a reason: Roman military
success. And, without the
completion of these reforms, Rome was vulnerable.
A guy
named Jugurtha began stirring up trouble for Rome in Africa. Even more worrisome, the Cimbri and
the Teutones were headed south and threatened Rome
itself.
The
African situation was more and more troubling as senatorial
general after senatorial general failed. This gave one of the
equestrians, a man named Gaius Marius, the campaign issue he
needed to be elected Consul (107 BC). He
promised he could succeed were the senatorial generals had
failed. And, sure enough, he did—a
great hero!
Meanwhile
the
threat posed by the Cimbri and the Teutones was getting worse. Several senator-lead armies failed,
and Marius decides to run again for consul, promising success. He gets five more consulships, each
time using the same issue—and he does eventually beat the Cimbri
and the Teutones.
He
was successful in part by turning Roman soldiers into
professional soldiers. Now
there were some real advantages to a professional army, but also
a big disadvantage: professional soldiers are more expensive.
Marius wanted pay for his soldiers, but the senate, once again,
said no. Marius made himself some effective political alliances
with the reform elements in Rome (people who favored
programs like that of the Gracchi) and was for a time
successful.
But
the senate eventually maneuvered Marius into a bad political
position, and Marius had to leave for a temporary exile. The senate was in control, and all was
right with the Roman world.
Except
that
it wasn’t. Without Marius military
leadership and with reform long overdue, Rome soon found itself
facing a real crisis.
Rome’s Italian Allies revolted, insisting on their share
of political power (Social War—90-88 BC). And
in the East, Mithridates of Pontus leads a revolt against Rome, and Rome looks likely to lose
all possessions there.
To
the rescue? Gaius Marius and his
former associate by now rival Sulla. Marius
and Sulla manage to help Rome end the Social War,
but now there’s a new question: who will take on Mithridates?
Both
Sulla and Marius want to take their troops east, and the
soldiers of both men are eager to fight: lots of good things for
the taking, and lots of opportunity to kill people without them
having much of an opportunity to kill you back.
Who is going to go?
Well,
the senate hates Marius and gives the command to Sulla. Marius
is mad, but what can he do? Well,
he can go to the assembly, which, by the lex hortensia of
287 had the right to pass legislation binding on the Roman state
without the consent of the senate. The
assembly decides Marius can have the command against
Mithridates.
But
wait! Sulla’s troops are very close
to Rome
when they get the bad news: they aren’t headed east after all. And so Sulla marches his men into Rome,
smiles very nicely and says to the assembly—you were right the
first time. Me and my army are the ones going to fight
Mithridates, right?
Well,
yes sir, Mr. Sulla. Anything you
say—and off goes Sulla, leaving the senators in charge and
everything right in the Roman world.
Except
*also*
left behind is Marius—and some very angry troops. Marius and his
allies now march on Rome
and take over. And now is the time
to settle old scores. Many,
many senators are put to death—and we call this period the
Marian reign of terror—though Marius himself dies right at the
beginning of it and would likely have restrained his troops
somewhat.
For a
few years, the allies of Marius control Rome, making at long last
some long overdue reforms. But
reform won’t last: Sulla is coming back eventually and bringing
his army.
Well,
that day comes: Sulla marches on Rome, defeats his enemies,
makes himself dictator, takes revenge on the Marians—and
retires, leaving the senators back in control and everything
right in the Roman world.
Except that it wasn’t.
Mithridates
resumes
his attempts to drive Rome out
of the eastern Mediterranean.
Pirates plague Mediterranean shipping. Slaves under Spartacus
stage a revolt, liberating thousands of slaves and taking
appropriate revenge on their former masters.
But
the worst threat to Rome
came from within the political system itself. Politics in Rome had
become essentially a game for the wealthy and powerful, a high
stakes games without any fixed rules. Roman
politicians, with very few exceptions came to thing that
anything that would increase their own power and prestige was
fair enough.
Typical
of
the new kind of politician, Catiline. Catiline
was a capable man, but totally unscrupulous and immoral. He
ran for consul in 63 BC. Running
against him was Cicero, a great philosopher and a true
statesman. And which of these two
men did the Roman people vote for?
Well,
Cicero
of course. But it was a near thing.
How did a corrupt man like Catiline almost win?
By lavish campaigning among influential Romans: parties
with lots of food and wine and for dessert young women or
boys—whatever happened to be your taste. But
the main promise: a cancellation of debts.
When
Catiline didn’t win, his disappointed followers decide to take
matters into their own hands and kill Cicero.
The plot was discovered, and Cicero ended up having the
conspirators put to death—without the usual safeguard of a fair
trial. You see the problem here: unscrupulous and unlawful
behavior almost forces the political opposition to take
unscrupulous and unlawful steps of its own.
Foremost
of
the unscrupulous politicians who destroyed the Republic, the
members of the first triumvirate, Crassus, Caesar, and Pompey.
Now
each of these men was capable, but they were unscrupulous in the
extreme. Crassus
ended the Spartacus revolt: a crucified thousands of slaves.
Caesar added Gaul to Rome—but
carried
out a campaign of what we might call genocide. For a time, the
three men worked together, but after Crassus death, Caesar and
Pompey ended up battling it out. Caesar’s forces prevail: Caesar
reigns and Pompey dies.
Caesar
was
a skillful politician: he knew how to make himself popular: one
government program after another. Colonization, building
programs, libraries, calendar reform. But what he was after was
power pure and simple. He made himself dictator for ten years
then dictator for life. He seemed to be angling to make himself
king (as Shakespeare shows) but what he was really after was to
make himself into a god.
And
this was too much for the senators. Sixty
of
them organized a conspiracy against Caesar, and on the Ides of
March 44 BC, they assassinated him. They ran from the theater
shouting, “Liberty!
Freedom! Tyranny is dead!”
But
they were wrong. It was the Republic that was dead. Caesar’s
death plunged Rome
into another 13 years of bloody civil war, the years of the 2nd
triumvirate. And when the dust had
cleared, the Republic was gone…replaced by the rule of one man:
Ceasar’s adopted son Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus: best known
by his nickname, Augustus.
And
do you know what’s remarkable about this? Amidst
all
this struggle, all this fighting, slave revolt, civil war,
pirates, assassinations—Rome
actually grows. France is added
to the empire. Egypt. Britain
for at least a brief time.
Is
that amazing, or is that amazing?