"So may all those perish who attempt such crimes"
A doomed reformer, informal norms, and the beginning of the Roman Republic's end.

Welcome to the first chapter of The Unwritten Rules Break First. If you haven’t read the series introduction or “A Guide to the Roman Republic,” I highly recommend starting your journey there. They will help you get settled into the fascinating world of Roman politics.
In 133 BCE, Rome was ascendant.
They had just come off a resounding victory against their bitter enemy, Carthage, in the Third Punic War. And over the past fifty years, they had successfully gained control of most of modern-day Spain, North Africa, and Greece. These conquests brought millions of pounds of treasure to the Eternal City, carried on the backs of Roman soldiers, and made many citizens rich.12
But underneath the surface, cracks were beginning to appear in the fabric of Roman society. Although the Punic Wars made Rome fabulously wealthy, who got the wealth was a different story. The constant fighting disproportionately affected small landowners, most of whom joined the legions. Many did not return. With no one to manage their properties, their surviving peers snapped up land at bargain prices. Sprawling estates soon sprang up throughout Italy, while the ranks of the poor swelled.3
This posed a problem on multiple fronts. For starters, it depleted the military’s ranks. The legions were heavily dependent upon small landowners, as only those with property could afford the supplies necessary for service. And with a series of Spanish tribes causing headaches for the Republican government throughout the 130s, it was unclear if the Romans had enough strength to retaliate.
Secondly, the inequality caused demographic crises. In the words of the ancient historian Plutarch, the destitute former tenants “neglected the bringing up of children, so that soon all Italy was conscious of a dearth of freemen.”4 It was clear that if Rome remained on its present course, it would lack the manpower needed to sustain its rapid rise. Into the void stepped Tiberius Gracchus, a politician who believed he could find a solution to the problem.
Tiberius, by all accounts, was a refined man. The son of a former consul, he had the wealthy background necessary to glide through the Roman upper class.5 He was not a particularly energetic politician, but he made up for it with ambition, convincing logic, innovative ideas, and a silky-smooth speaking style.6 As a result, he had all the potential for a distinguished political career. But this was not to be, for Tiberius had other plans in mind.
After serving in the Third Punic War, Tiberius began his political journey as a quaestor in 137 BCE. The Senate assigned him to assist consul Gaius Mancinus in his efforts to subdue the Numantians, a tribe resisting Roman rule in Spain.7 Unfortunately, Mancinus’s army was promptly defeated and surrounded. Twenty thousand lives were at stake, and only the most skilled negotiator would be able to force an escape. But the Numantians weren’t interested in meeting Rome’s best and brightest. Remembering his father (who signed a treaty with them years earlier), they sent for Tiberius instead.
Tiberius, having little diplomatic experience, faced a dilemma: either accept the Numantians’ humiliating terms and risk fury back home, or refuse and surely perish. Survival instincts taking over, he chose the former.
When the Senate received the news, they were incredulous. So, too, was most of Rome. One would expect Tiberius’s career to be over. But instead, he returned to a hero’s welcome from the families of the soldiers he helped save. Though his superiors faced censure from the Senate (who sent consul Mancinus back to Spain and delivered him to the Numantians in chains), Tiberius remained relatively unscathed.8
Pro-Gracchan literature tells us that when he returned to Rome, Tiberius became aware of the growing effects of conquest-driven inequality. Traveling through the Italian countryside one day, he observed that almost no Roman citizens remained in the fields. The landowners, having acquired vast tracts of land, instead used slaves from conquered areas for labor.9 Tiberius decided to identify a politically attractive solution to the problem, and he quickly found it: land redistribution.
At this point, Tiberius made a fateful decision. He would not take the high road to political fame—chasing an aedileship or praetorship—but rather saw the tribunate’s tremendous power over the government and decided to pursue that route instead. He would harness the people’s power to make himself mighty. And he knew land distribution was his ticket there. So, after running a successful campaign for the tribunate in 134 BCE, he introduced a proposal the following year that would close a loophole exploited by rich landowners.10
At this time, the Republican government held vast amounts of ager publicus, or public land. This land was leased out to landowners for private use. However, every individual was limited to 500 iugera (~330 acres) of public land.11 But the wealthy disregarded this rule. Many landowners used fake names, for example, or leveraged their client networks to enlist others to hold land on their behalf.12 Gracchus’s bill would form a commission to investigate these abuses, confiscate illegally held property, and redistribute it to the landless poor. In effect, it was a way to target the rich and replenish the Republic’s backbone: small landowners.
Gracchus knew that the Senate, composed of Rome’s wealthiest citizens, would be hostile to the bill. So he bypassed them entirely by submitting it to the friendlier Assembly first. There was no written law prohibiting this approach, but it was a conspicuous breach of custom. More importantly, it indicated that Tiberius was willing to set aside mos maiorum if he could get results.13
However, there were still barriers to overcome. The landowners quickly recovered by recruiting another tribune, Marcus Octavius, to veto the land commission when it arrived at the Assembly. On voting day, Octavius did as he was asked. Making his way through the throngs of people at the Forum, he shouted “Veto!” when he reached the front. “I forbid!”
Tiberius couldn’t do much once Octavius shut down the legislation. He tried desperately to convince his colleague to lift the block, but Octavius wouldn’t budge. So Tiberius ventured further into the political unknown. Leveraging the full power of his office, he announced that he would veto all governmental business until the dispute was resolved. This meant that the Senate and Assembly couldn’t meet, public funding dried up, and magistrates couldn’t carry out their required duties.14
To prove his point, Tiberius dispatched his lieutenants across the city to announce the news. He visited Rome’s top treasury, the Temple of Saturn, to seal the doors shut. The consequences must have been unimaginable: public projects halted, laborers unemployed, contracts unfulfilled, and much more. All of this was carefully calculated to apply maximum pressure upon Octavius, to force his hand. But how far was Tiberius willing to go? No one knew for sure.
At first, it appeared Tiberius was willing to compromise. Spurred on by the landowners to resolve the situation, he finally introduced the bill to the Senate for their consideration. But they unsurprisingly declined to approve the bill. So Tiberius took another unprecedented step. He asked the Assembly to depose Octavius.
In Tiberius’s eyes, this measure was his last resort. “Barring open war,” he told Octavius, “the only way to resolve this dispute would be for one of us to give up the office.”15 Custom-bound to prevent violence, to him this was his only way out.
If Tiberius felt he had other options, he did a good job of hiding it. On the day of the vote, he spoke in the Forum and begged Octavius to let the land commission bill pass. Once again, Octavius refused. The vote proceeded.16
As the voters moved into their groups and began voting on that fateful morning, it appeared that Tiberius would win easily. Once unthinkable, a sitting magistrate was on the verge of having his mandate revoked. One by one, the tribes announced their votes. The first seventeen tribes came and went. All voted in favor of impeachment. Tiberius was now one tribe short of a majority—and victory.
But just as success was within his grasp, Tiberius stopped the proceedings and gave Octavius one last chance. He urged Octavius to change his course and not allow himself to be expelled from his office. Though moved by these entreaties, Octavius refused. The measure passed.
Tiberius ordered Octavius stripped of his rank and dragged out of the Forum. The angry Assembly nearly killed the ex-tribune during his exit. A group of nearby landowners fanned out to protect him and most likely saved his life.17
The day did not end without bloodshed, however. Plutarch writes that in the fracas, one of Octavius’s “trusty servants” was killed.18 Tiberius, alarmed at the violence, rushed down to calm the crowds. They obeyed.
With the landlords broken, the land commission bill was all but assured to pass. Assigned to lead the commission were Tiberius, his brother Gaius, and senatorial ally Appius Claudius.19 It appeared the commission was ready to do its work.
But though Tiberius won the battle, it soon looked like he had lost the war. The Senate, led by an avowed anti-Gracchan named Publius Nasica, used their power of the purse to cut off funding to the commission. For an organization planning to issue on-site judgements throughout Italy, this move effectively checked its power. And though he had the Assembly’s backing, Tiberius did not wish to go toe-to-toe with the Senate. Therefore, he temporarily paused the commission’s operations.20
As the debate raged on, another crisis hit Rome—this time, in the east. News reached the city that King Attalus III of Pergamon, a kingdom encompassing most of modern-day Turkey, had died. Instead of passing the crown onto a successor, he bequeathed his kingdom to the Senate and People of Rome.21 In an instant, Rome added hundreds of square miles of new territory to their growing empire.
Tiberius pounced immediately. He pushed a bill through the Assembly that utilized Attalus’s treasury as capital for the land commission, promising to cover start-up expenses for new landowners. Additionally, he attempted to wrest control of Pergamon’s fate from the Senate and put it in the hands of the Assembly, saying he would submit a relevant bill at a later date.22
The Senate was outraged. It was well known that they exclusively handled international relations, and many senators denounced Tiberius’s proposals as an attempt to shift the balance of power from the elite Senate to the popular Assembly.
Given how Tiberius wielded his power throughout 133, it was no surprise that whispers spread through Rome that Tiberius’s true aim was kingship. One popular rumor was that emissaries from Pergamon presented Tiberius with a golden crown, implying that the tribune’s reign was imminent.23 Such accusations landed, as they tapped into Rome’s natural aversion to kings. The Republic was founded on a deposed monarch, after all, and almost no one wanted to return to that time. So Tiberius’s popularity began to plummet.
It’s easy to see why these rumours spread. Tiberius had already breached mos maiorum three times and had upended the stable structure of Republican politics. It was clear he was tipping the delicate balance of power toward the masses every day. Many anxiously awaited Tiberius’s response, hoping that he could soothe a restless public.
But he did little to assuage their fears. In a speech at the Forum, he defiantly defended his actions. Regarding Octavius, Tiberius claimed he had abandoned the people’s will by vetoing the land commission bill. “If, then,” Tiberius said, “[a tribune] should change about, wrong the people, maim its power, and rob it of the privilege of voting, he has by his own acts deprived himself of his honourable office by not fulfilling the conditions on which he received it; for otherwise there would be no interference with a tribune even though he should try to demolish the Capitol or set fire to the naval arsenal. If a tribune does these things, he is a bad tribune; but if he annuls the power of the people, he is no tribune at all.”24 It is unclear whether he addressed the accusations of kingship, so we will not speculate on that here.
Sensing the urgency of the situation, many of Tiberius’s allies urged him to do the unfathomable: run for a second consecutive term as tribune. This was something no one had dared to do for the past 250 years. Whether out of fear or confidence, Tiberius agreed. He would try to extend his tribunate.
To secure his victory, Tiberius decided to build on his work from 133. He introduced a slate of reforms he would implement if elected, designed to further curtail the wealthy’s influence:
Reducing mandatory service time requirements in the military.
Expanding the jury pool for criminal cases from senators to merchants of the equestrian class.
Allowing citizens to appeal judicial verdicts.25
But initially, it appeared that Tiberius’s reelection was doomed to fail. A dispute broke out in the Assembly regarding the legality of his actions. Some voters claimed that the ploy was illegal—after all, wouldn’t it result in Tiberius continuing to gather power? Tiberius’s fellow tribunes were split on the issue, with half of them in favor of his candidacy and the others against. Caught in the middle, a frustrated Tiberius adjourned the Assembly for the day.26
The following morning, some sources claim that Tiberius encountered a series of bad omens that spooked his followers. Leaving his house, the tribune tripped on a stone and broke his big toe. Ravens on the rooftops kicked stones at him as he moved towards the Forum. Sacred birds refused to eat, indicating divine displeasure.
For the famously superstitious Romans, this gave them pause. Most of Tiberius’s entourage believed it unwise to defy the gods’ will, and they attempted to convey these sentiments to their leader. But, as if in reply, a partisan named Blossius emerged from the crowd and strode up to Tiberius. “It would be a shame,” he told the tribune, “if Tiberius, a son of Gracchus and a champion of the Roman people, for fear of a raven should refuse to obey the summons of his fellow citizens.” Standing in the street, Tiberius remained still—for once, unsure of what to do next. But when reports reached him of his likely victory, he made up his mind. He would ignore the divine signals and witness his win.27
Our sources become murky once Tiberius arrived at the Forum. Some argue that Tiberius armed his followers before the vote, while others omit this detail entirely. 28 Perhaps deep down, the tribune was truly disturbed by the omens that morning and took measures to insure himself against divine displeasure. But, weapons or none, scattered fights exploded into full-blown violence after Tiberius’s arrival. These disturbances delayed the elections.
Those who fled the clashes frantically spread rumours throughout the city. Some said Tiberius drove the anti-Gracchan factions out of the Assembly and declared himself king. Others said Tiberius had deposed his co-tribunes.29 The Senate soon was aware of the situation and requested that a consul be dispatched to quell the unrest. Both consuls refused.30
Taking matters into his own hands, Publius Nasica declared to an anxious Senate he would march to the Assembly and confront Tiberius himself. Accompanying him was a small army of senators, guards, and servants armed with an array of household objects (table legs, clubs, etc.). When the party reached the Assembly, they began attacking the pro-Gracchan partisans.
It was a slaughter from the start. The well-disciplined senators, many of whom were veterans, crushed the pro-Gracchans with their makeshift weapons and won the day. Tiberius attempted to flee, but didn’t make it far. He tripped on a bench and was unceremoniously beaten to death by Nasica’s supporters.31
Tiberius was the first of many to die in the tumultuous Late Republic. His struggle formed battle lines that would last the better part of the century. This was the first clash between two visions of Rome—power wielded through institutions or power wielded through the people—and it wouldn’t be the last.
But most importantly, 133 BCE represented the first cracks in mos maiorum. During his tribunate, Tiberius Gracchus and his contemporaries broke five key rules:
Instead of submitting his land commission bill to the Senate for consideration, Tiberius cut the senators out entirely and immediately proposed the legislation to the Assembly.
Tribunes were not supposed to be deposed, even by popular vote. Many sources considered Tiberius’s move to be unconstitutional.
By co-opting Pergamon into his land reform proposals, Tiberius upset the balance of power between the Senate and the Assembly and infringed upon the Senate’s right to manage international affairs.
Running for multiple terms as tribune was frowned upon by most Romans and contributed to Tiberius’s demise. For many, this move seemed like an attempt to secure kingship, even though this was not what Tiberius intended.
In killing Tiberius, Nasica and the anti-Gracchans broke the aura of tribunal sacrosanctity. Never again would tribunes consistently be protected from violence.
The fifth point is critical to our story. The casualness with which Tiberius was cut down proved to many that Rome’s unwritten rules could buckle with enough force. Now it seemed, such edicts were simply suggestions. But no one dared exploit the gap. Tiberius’s death restrained any remaining agitators, putting enough fear in them that they hesitated—for now.
As it would be for the next hundred years, the people were instrumental in shaping the situation. But in this case, most sided with the institutionalists. The public outcry over Tiberius’s actions suggests they wanted to preserve the Republic. No one wished for the Republic’s time-tested institutions to change radically. It would not always be this way.
Ultimately, Tiberius’s land commission outlived its creator. According to Plutarch, the anti-Gracchans dared not touch such a popular program and kept it in place.32 Modern scholars disagree and instead believe the anti-Gracchans’ actions indicated narrow disagreements with Tiberius’s breach of custom rather than with his populist program.33 Either way, the commission continued its work without its primary creator.
As the memory of Tiberius’s tribunate faded away, a sense of normalcy slowly returned to Rome. Government business resumed. The factions retired to their respective corners. All was quiet.
It seemed a sense of calmness came over Tiberius’s brother, Gaius, as well. He resolved to live out a life of peace and dared not enter the republican arena that claimed his brother’s life. But later, sleeping in his house, Tiberius allegedly appeared to him in a dream. “Why do you hesitate, Gaius?” his brother’s ghost told him. “There is no escape; one life is fated for us both, and one death as champions of the people.”34 Motivated by this vision, Gaius vowed to follow his brother to the tribunate and to ruin. Rome would never be the same.
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Michael Houck, “ROMAN CONQUEST of SPAIN: THE ECONOMIC MOTIVE,” TTU DSpace Repository, May 1998, https://ttu-ir.tdl.org/server/api/core/bitstreams/b7455539-ed42-419e-ad0a-e7bbd91ba02a/content; 63, 73-74.
Michael H. Crawford, “Rome and the Greek World: Economic Relationships,” The Economic History Review 30, no. 1 (February 1977): 42, https://doi.org/10.2307/2595497.
Dunc., The Storm Before The Storm (pg. 20-21)
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 8.3
Dio. xxxiv/xxxv.5
App., The Civil Wars i.9; Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 2.2-2.3
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 5.1
Flor. The Epitome of Roman History ii.3.14.2, Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 5.3-7.3
Michael H. Crawford, “Rome and the Greek World: Economic Relationships,” The Economic History Review 30, no. 1 (February 1977): 42, https://doi.org/10.2307/2595497.
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 8.7
https://www2.classics.upenn.edu/myth/php/tools/dictionary.php?method=did®exp=837&setcard=0&link=0&media=0
App., The Civil Wars i.8.1-i.10.1, Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 8.1-8.3
App., The Civil Wars i.9.1; Dunc., The Storm Before The Storm (pg. 27); Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 8; Vell. Pater. ii.2.1
App., The Civil Wars i.12; Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 10; Poly., Histories 6.16
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 11.3
App., The Civil Wars i.12;
App., The Civil Wars i.12; Dio. xxxiv/xxxv.7 Flor. The Epitome of Roman History ii.3.14.5; Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 12; Vell. Pater. ii.2.3
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 12.5
App., The Civil Wars i.13; Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 13.1; Vell. Pater. ii.2.3
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 13.3
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 14.1; Vell. Pater. ii.4
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 14.2
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 14.2
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 15.2-15.3
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 16.1
App., The Civil Wars i.14; Flor. The Epitome of Roman History ii.3.14.6; Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 16.2;
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 17
App., The Civil Wars i.15; Flor. The Epitome of Roman History ii.3.14.7; Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 18-19.2
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 19.2
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 19.3
App., The Civil Wars i.16-i.17; Dio. xxxiv/xxxv.7.2; Flor. The Epitome of Roman History ii.3.14.7; Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 19; Vell. Pater. ii.3
Plut., The Life of Tiberius Gracchus 21.1
Boren, Henry C. “Tiberius Gracchus: The Opposition View.” The American Journal of Philology 82, no. 4 (1961): 358–69. https://doi.org/10.2307/292017.
Plut., The Life of Caius Gracchus 1.6; Cic., De Divinatione i.26.56