The Fragile Balance of the First Triumvirate

The year 58 BCE marked the beginning of Julius Caesar’s famed Gallic Wars and the apparent stability of Rome’s unofficial “First Triumvirate”—a power-sharing alliance between Caesar, Pompey, and Crassus. That year, both consuls were closely tied to the triumvirs, while the tribune Publius Clodius Pulcher kept the senatorial opposition in check. Key opponents like Cicero were exiled, and Cato the Younger was dispatched to Cyprus, effectively silencing the Senate’s most vocal critics.

Yet by 57 BCE, the political winds shifted. The Senate, long resentful of the triumvirs’ dominance, began a calculated counteroffensive. Three critical factors enabled this reversal: Pompey’s growing detachment, Clodius’ overreach, and the return of exiled senators.

Pompey’s Retreat from Politics

At 49, Pompey the Great was entering a phase of political apathy. Having achieved military glory and married Caesar’s daughter Julia, he seemed content with domestic life, withdrawing from Rome’s cutthroat politics. This passivity proved disastrous for the triumvirate.

In the consular elections of 57 BCE, Pompey failed to rally support for his faction. The Senate-backed Lucius Cornelius Lentulus Crus, a staunch opponent of Pompey and ally of Cicero, secured one consulship. The other went to Quintus Caecilius Metellus Nepos, a nominal Caesarean who lacked strong loyalty. Pompey’s inaction handed the Senate a crucial advantage.

Clodius’ Overreach and Popular Backlash

Clodius, the firebrand tribune, had been instrumental in Cicero’s exile. But his radical policies soon alienated even his allies. His Lex Frumentaria replaced subsidized grain with free distributions—a populist move that drained the treasury. Worse, he organized a private militia, turning Rome’s streets into a battleground.

Though initially popular, Clodius’ extremism alienated moderates. Even Caesar, no friend of the Senate, later repealed his laws. By 57 BCE, Clodius’ recklessness had turned public opinion toward the Senate, which now positioned itself as the guardian of stability.

The Return of Cicero and Cato

Cicero’s exile lasted only nine months. His recall, championed by Lentulus and tacitly approved by Caesar, was a public relations coup for the Senate. Cicero’s triumphant return to Rome in August 57 BCE—greeted by cheering crowds—symbolized the Senate’s resurgence.

Cato the Younger, though less charismatic than Cicero, also returned. His moral rigidity made him a polarizing figure, but his presence bolstered the Senate’s credibility. Together, they spearheaded a campaign to undermine the triumvirate without appearing overtly confrontational.

The Senate’s Clever Gambit: Isolating Pompey

Rather than attacking the triumvirs directly, the Senate drove a wedge between Pompey and Caesar. A masterstroke was the Lex Pompeia de annona, which granted Pompey sweeping powers over Rome’s grain supply—a role that came with control of the navy.

Pompey, ever eager for prestige, accepted the position. But the Senate’s true aim was to lure him away from Caesar. By appealing to Pompey’s vanity, they weakened the triumvirate’s unity. The strategy worked: Pompey grew increasingly independent, while Caesar remained embroiled in Gaul.

The Rise of Street Violence and Its Consequences

One Senate miscalculation, however, was tolerating the rise of rival gangs. Titus Annius Milo, a conservative ally, formed his own militia to counter Clodius’ thugs. The resulting street battles eroded public order, giving Caesar future ammunition to argue that the Senate could not govern effectively.

Legacy: The Unraveling of the Republic

The events of 57 BCE set the stage for Rome’s eventual collapse into civil war. The Senate’s temporary victories masked deeper fractures. Pompey’s drift from Caesar, the weaponization of populism, and the normalization of political violence all foreshadowed the Republic’s demise.

By 49 BCE, Caesar would cross the Rubicon, Pompey would flee, and Cicero’s dream of senatorial supremacy would crumble. Yet the lessons of 57 BCE endure—a cautionary tale of how short-term political maneuvering can hasten the fall of even the mightiest systems.

Conclusion: Why 57 BCE Still Matters

Rome’s crisis in 57 BCE mirrors modern political struggles: the dangers of populist excess, the fragility of alliances, and the unintended consequences of polarization. For historians, it remains a pivotal year—one that reveals how quickly power can shift and how easily institutions can unravel when ambition outweighs principle.