A Guide to the Roman Republic

The Unwritten Rules Break First - Introduction

The following section is meant as a primer on the Roman Republic. If you are already familiar with its inner workings, feel free to skip to Part I: Slow Burn.

---

This series focuses on the Roman Republic’s collapse, in all of its inglorious magnificence. We will examine greedy politicians, impotent ‘defenders of the system,’ and the institutions caught in the crossfire. Our journey will take us through how Roman society progressed from tolerating minor social breaches to a full-blown breakdown.

Because the Republic’s collapse started within its rulebook, we should begin this story by examining the rulebook itself. So, what was the Roman Republic like before its fall? What enabled its government to last so long but fall so fast?

The Republican Government: A Broad Overview

The Republican government was built on simmering civil conflicts. In its early years, class warfare threatened to tear the government apart. On one side were the patricians, landowning elites seeking to maintain their iron grip on the government. Opposing them were the plebeians, lower-class citizens who wanted more power in the political process. Over time, the plebeians wrangled concessions from the patricians until they achieved full political equality in the early 200s BCE.¹ Out of this struggle arose a government with checks and balances like those in the United States. A variety of institutions sought to preserve this balance.

The Senate was a body of 300 (later 600) current and former magistrates who handled public criminal investigations, debated legislative proposals, and sent delegations to neighboring countries. They held the power of the purse for most spending, which meant they indirectly controlled construction and public works projects. Since their members were highly respected and experienced, officials usually consulted the body on urgent political matters. It was also customary for the Senate to vet bills before a popular vote, providing an informal check on the populace’s worst impulses.²

Additionally, the Senate handled most of Rome’s judicial business. They oversaw a series of courts that tried individuals for various crimes. Of note was the Extortion Court, which punished public officials for bribery and embezzlement. But since most magistrates were senators, accountability was rare. A series of high-profile acquittals throughout the 100s led to increased calls for reform, a flashpoint that foreshadowed future conflicts.³

The Assembly was the Republic’s democratic element. It was not one body but rather multiple organizations with different powers. There were two types of popular assembly: a contio (simple public meetings for debates and speeches) and a comitia (meetings with legal consequences). There were three subtypes of comitia, but only two are important for our story:

The comitia centuriata (centuriate assembly) had the power to elect major magistrates, impose the death penalty upon convicts, declare war, and make peace. It included all citizens, but was dominated by the elites. This was due to its structure, which sorted citizens into wealth-based groups. The Republic gave the most votes to the upper-class units, granting them an edge over everyone else. This setup gave the elites some control over the weightiest issues of the day, even though these powers were supposedly the people’s.⁴

The comitia tributa (tribal assembly) oversaw major legislative business and elected minor magistrates. It was, in reality, two separate institutions with nearly identical powers. The only difference between the two was that one included all citizens and the other excluded patricians. Unlike the centuriate assembly, all citizens in the tribal assembly were distributed amongst one of 35 ‘tribes,’ each with a single vote.⁵ Since all citizens were on even footing, debates were heated and votes were uncertain. However, these same qualities made it the most democratic of all the Republic’s institutions.

Even within this supposedly ‘democratic’ branch of government, we can see the faint outlines of inequality. Votes in different assemblies could have wildly different results, with the centuriate assembly skewing more conservative compared to its tribal counterpart. What if one body gained power at another’s expense? The repercussions could be enormous—it would be akin to a social group gaining dominance over all others.

So far, we have examined the Republic’s legislative and judicial functions. “But,” you might be asking yourself, “what was the executive like? How were the laws enforced?” To answer these questions, we need to examine a peculiar aspect of the Roman framework: the cursus honorum.

The Cursus Honorum

The cursus honorum was a unique system regulating the careers of aspiring politicians. It forced everyone to follow the same path up the Republic’s ranks, from minor roles to the pinnacle of political power. Ten years of military service were a prerequisite to enter.⁶ Unless otherwise noted, most magistrates served one-year terms.

The first step in a typical political career was a quaestorship. These officials oversaw the Republic’s finances; most worked in Rome’s various provinces or the city itself. Usually, their assignments were decided by lot. But occasionally, magistrates hand-picked quaestors to serve under their command (for example, if a family member or talented individual caught their eye). Most quaestors were 27 to 30 years old upon taking office.⁷ Remember, most of these officials served in the legions before their political careers!

The next rung on the ladder was murkier. Two years after their quaestorship, eligible individuals could either run for an aedileship or attempt to become a tribune of the plebs. Ex-quaestors could skip this step, but each position brought power and prestige required to boost an aspiring politician’s career.⁸

Aediles were responsible for maintaining infrastructure, prosecuting wrongdoers, and throwing games (gladiatorial fights, etc.).⁹ While these were important obligations, an aedileship could be a springboard for higher offices. For example, a wealthy aedile could become extremely popular by funding public works projects or entertaining the people. Now well-known, he could then parlay his successes into electoral victories.

Plebeians had an additional political opportunity via the plebeian tribunate. Despite its low ranking on the cursus honorum, the ten tribunes wielded an extraordinary amount of power. Not only did they have the power to propose laws to the Assembly, but they were considered sacrosanct by most Romans. According to scholars, this meant “anyone who might compel, harm, or kill a tribune would be declared accursed, their life and property forfeit.”¹⁰ Therefore, tribunes were largely immune to coercion and political threats.

This power gave the tribunes influence over the Republican government, inspiring a series of informal abilities. Chief among these was intercessio, the ability for tribunes to veto any governmental proceeding. Consider the implications of this ability. Theoretically, a single individual could stop anything in the government: crucial votes, magisterial elections, even Senate meetings.¹¹ The only condition, according to contemporary scholars, was that the tribunes had to act in the people’s interest.¹² As you can imagine, this was a flimsy requirement—one we will explore soon.

After serving as an aedile or a plebeian tribune, politicians competed to become one of six praetors. These officials held imperium, the ability to lead armies and execute the laws. The Senate assigned many praetors to governorships, overseeing the Republic’s provinces throughout Southern Europe and North Africa. However, their power was limited by the consuls, their superiors. Praetors could not interfere with a consul’s actions, but a consul could overrule a praetor. Since the consuls were not often in Rome, however, it usually fell to the praetors to oversee day-to-day governmental business.¹³

Finally, the pinnacle of the cursus honorum was the consuls. Elected by the people annually, they held supreme military power, monitored elections, oversaw the Assemblies, and managed public funds. Due to the Roman people’s fear of kings, however, there were not one but two consuls elected annually. They could veto each other’s rulings, balancing authority. They could also overrule lesser magistrates, except for the plebeian tribunes.¹⁴

There were restrictions on who could serve as a consul. Only ex-praetors could run for the office. Those under 42 years old were automatically ineligible. Ex-consuls could run again, but only ten years after their previous consulship. This created a very exclusive group of individuals, usually only three to eight, who ran for the office each year.¹⁵

Under special circumstances, the consuls could appoint a dictator. This individual held supreme decision-making authority, though their term was time-limited to prevent an easy coup d'état. The position existed for expediency’s sake, as deliberation was unhelpful during emergencies. But when it came to appointments, other branches of the Republic had roles to play; for example, the Senate helped nominate candidates.¹⁶ The dictatorship was instrumental in the Republic’s final years, as its extraordinary abilities proved alluring to power-hungry politicians.

Many ex-consuls became censors. They maintained the census (list of all Roman citizens and property) and were responsible for all revenue collection and public works contracts with private individuals. The censors were also stewards of Republican morality. They could strip a citizen of voting rights and their senatorial rank for scandalous behavior, for example.¹⁷

Just because all politicians followed the same path doesn’t mean they were created equal. Who rose and fell depended on class and birthplace, a problem present throughout all of Roman society.

Republican Social Tensions

There’s a common misconception that Ancient Rome was a unified society. The thinking goes that whether you’re in Rome or Greece, Spain or Egypt, most individuals were Roman citizens. At the dawn of our story in the 2nd century BCE, this narrative was patently false.

Take Italy, for example. A map may show Roman domination over the peninsula, but the reality is more complicated. Underlying Republican control was a tangled web of citizenship laws, relics from decades of conquest. Most people living close to the city were full citizens, while those further away had limited rights. Some could vote and had other privileges (a status called Latin Rights), but many inhabitants were considered mere allies with no political rights at all.¹⁸ This unequal arrangement upset many Italians, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. Rebelling against the Roman machine was ludicrous, as it would take a united Italian force to challenge the Republic (keep this in mind for later).

The rigid nature of Roman society also alienated many citizens. The senatorial class (descended from the patricians of old) held most of the power and wealth in the Republic, and they had a vested interest in maintaining the current order. But those underneath clamored for reform. The equestrians, the class immediately below the senators, wanted greater political benefits. As senators were banned from conducting business, many equestrians were wealthy merchants who hoped to turn their riches into increased rights and privileges.¹⁹ The plebeians, Rome’s middle and lower classes, were also a significant force for change. Independent and extremely sensitive to elite encroachment, they could be counted on to resist if the wealthy became too powerful.²⁰

Thus far, we’ve examined the Republic’s structures and the tensions threatening to tear it apart. So why did it take 400 years for it to collapse? The answer lies not in its formal institutions but rather in its unwritten rules and norms.

Mos Maiorum - The Glue Holding the Republic Together

Underpinning the Roman Republic was a system called mos maiorum. In English, this translates to ‘the way of the elders.’ This was not a law code but rather a system of informal norms that underpinned Roman society. There is no universal definition for what constitutes mos maiorum, so here are two examples:

Client-patron relationships

Remember that the ancient world was built on localized relationships. How could one trust, therefore, individuals outside of their immediate circle? What if, for example, an individual had to conduct business in another city? The client-patron network solved this problem, generating trust across classes and constituencies.

Almost every Roman was a client or a patron. Clients supported their patrons by offering their loyalty and material support. In return, patrons provided their clients with access to a network of trusted individuals and fulfilled their requests.²¹ To return to our earlier travel example, a client might ask their patron to connect them with people at their destination. If the patron consented, the targeted individuals had to comply (as refusing to do so would break their bond with their patron).

These relationships were less about money than prestige. Every morning, clients would rush to their patron’s house to greet them before conducting daily business.²² Imagine what this looked like at the wealthiest patrons’ houses—the crowds must have been enormous! It was a signal to the rest of society: these individuals were the biggest fish in the pond. It surely must have been an ego-booster.

Patronage was a mighty force in Roman politics. Wealthy citizens could count on their client network’s unqualified support. This was possible because, at the time of our story, all votes were public. Voters had to verbally announce their ballot to a magistrate, usually with their patron lurking nearby. The system ensured accountability, though it severely restricted a voter’s options.²³ But if voting were to become a private affair, the whole system would fall apart.

Sacred Boundaries

One of Rome’s most striking features was its pomerium, a symbolic boundary encompassing most of the city centre. Its original significance was religious, although it’s unknown who created it. According to modern scholars, the ancient Romans could only look for omens from their gods to guide their decisions within its borders.²⁴ For a very religious community, therefore, this space was sacred and was to be protected at all costs.

Over time, a set of rules and superstitions surrounding the pomerium appeared. The most recognizable of these were its restrictions on military activity. Commanders could not exercise their full powers inside the pomerium (they were unable to execute citizens, for example), nor could they bring weapons within its limits.²⁵

In a way, the pomerium represented the last line of defense of mos maiorum. The strongest sacred obligations, paired with how it ‘disarmed’ military leaders, separated the military and civilian world. Rome’s citizens knew its implications—if the pomerium was breached, the Republic as they knew it was gone. The civil would become the martial, and their revered customs would no longer apply.

If you asked yourself while reading these examples, “What stopped anyone from disregarding mos maiorum?”, then congratulations! You have identified a massive weakness in the Republic’s structure. Norms and customs only work if everyone plays by the same rules. More importantly, all citizens had to police the system. If anyone stepped out of line, their comrades pulled them back in.

This system works when a country is unified, and is especially effective during times of war (as a patriotic populace would quash dissent). But this was not the case during the Late Roman Republic. You now know that there was rampant inequality and distrust between social classes, which were the first cracks to appear in Rome’s glittering facade. By 135 BCE, these fissures were clear for all to see. All it needed was a politician with a sledgehammer to break the system down.

---

Click here for the master post of this series, with links to all other sections at the bottom of the page.

1. Lutz, Brenda J., and James M. Lutz. “Political Violence in the Republic of Rome: Nothing New under the Sun.” Government and Opposition 41, no. 4 (2006): 491–511. http://www.jstor.org/stable/44483167.

2. https://chicagounbound.uchicago.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1300&context=public_law_and_legal_theory

3. https://dcc.dickinson.edu/cicero-veres/roman-extortion-court

4. https://chicagounbound.uchicago.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1300&context=public_law_and_legal_theory

5. Momigliano, Arnaldo, and Tim Cornell. "comitia." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 7 Mar. 2016; Accessed 14 Jul. 2025. https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-1747.

6. Polyb., The Histories 6.19.3

7. Badian, Ernst, and Tony Honoré. "quaestor." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 7 Mar. 2016; Accessed 5 Jul. 2025. https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-5470.

8. Brennan, T. Corey. "cursus honorum." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 22 Dec. 2015; Accessed 13 Jul. 2025. https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-1965.

9. Sherwin-White, A. N., and Andrew Lintott. "aediles, Roman magistrates." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 22 Dec. 2015; Accessed 5 Jul. 2025. https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-80.

10. Kondratieff, Eric. (2018). Tribuni plebis. 1-5. 10.1002/9781444338386.wbeah20131.pub2.

11. Brennan, T. Corey. "tribunicia potestas." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 26 Oct. 2017; Accessed 14 Jul. 2025. https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-8196.

12. Polyb., The Histories 6.16

13. Brennan, T. Corey, and Andrew Lintott. "praetor." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 7 Mar. 2016; Accessed 5 Jul. 2025. https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-5305.

14. Pina Polo, Francisco. "consul." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 22 Dec. 2015; Accessed 13 Jul. 2025. https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-1797.

15. Evans, Richard J. “CANDIDATES AND COMPETITION IN CONSULAR ELECTIONS AT ROME BETWEEN 218 AND 49 BC.” Acta Classica 34 (1991): 111–36. http://www.jstor.org/stable/24591936.

16. Vervaet, Frederik Juliaan. "dictator." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 22 Dec. 2015; Accessed 14 Jul. 2025. https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-2151.

17. Derow, Peter Sidney. "censor." Oxford Classical Dictionary. 22 Dec. 2015; Accessed 5 Jul. 2025. https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-1463.

18. https://libraetd.lib.virginia.edu/downloads/1n79h570m?filename=1_Williams_Abigail_2024_MA.pdf

19. Roberts, Keith. “The Late Roman Republic, 201–31 B.C.E.” In The Origins of Business, Money, and Markets, 157–75. Columbia University Press, 2011. http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.7312/robe15326.18.

20. Toner, J. (2022). The Political Culture of the Plebs . In A Companion to the Political Culture of the Roman Republic (eds V. Arena, J. Prag and A. Stiles). https://doi.org/10.1002/9781119673675.ch30

21. Roberts, Keith. “The Early Roman Republic.” In The Origins of Business, Money, and Markets, 144-46. Columbia University Press, 2011. http://www.jstor.org/stable/10.7312/robe15326.17.

22. Cicero, Comment. pet. 9

23. Yakobson, Alexander. “Secret Ballot and Its Effects in the Late Roman Republic.” Hermes 123, no. 4 (1995): 426–42. http://www.jstor.org/stable/4477105.

24. https://oxfordre.com/classics/display/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-5196

25. Drogula, Fred. (2007). Imperium, Potestas, and the Pomerium in the Roman Republic. Historia. 56. 419-52. 10.2307/25598407.