‘In this state, there have always been two kinds of men ... One of these types wanted to be considered, and to be, populares, the other, optimates’ Cic., Sest. 96. This line must be one of the most famous statements made about politics in the late Roman Republic — although, as the opening chapter of this book suggests, its rhetorical nature has become somewhat submerged beneath a large body of scholarship debating the nature of these ‘optimates’ and ‘populares’. Robb aims to debunk the idea that Rome was divided practically or ideologically into two such groups, arguing that not only did these labels not fit Roman political behaviour but that Cicero's usage of them in the Pro Sestio was abnormal and so we should look elsewhere for more useful terminology to describe Latin Republican politics.

Starting with the Pro Sestio, R. focuses on political terminology and its application, presenting a thorough linguistic analysis of Cicero's use of the terms popularis and optimas, first in this speech and then in the rest of the corpus. She shows that Cicero's primary uses of the term popularis concern men who want to be or are ‘popular’, that optimates is most often used as a synonym for the Roman élite (both social and political), and that Cicero rarely uses either term without making clear the kind of behaviour being referenced. Through a discussion of the way in which Cicero's contemporaries and successors used both terms, R. argues that these were the most common usages of both terms in the late Republic.

At times, however, Cicero manipulates these terms for his own ends. In the Pro Sestio he defines the optimates by their character and behaviour, marking all those who support the Republic — whatever their social statuses — as members of this group and excluding Clodius from an élite he might usually be associated with because of his birth. The populares are those seeking popularity — but here it does not come from supporting Rome: it has become self-interested and false, with the populares opposing the Senate. Moreover Clodius is not even popular: he is a failed demagogue, standing alone, violent and dangerous, in opposition to Cicero and all good Romans (147). This is a very effective rhetorical process (165). At the same time, as R. also makes clear, it is not an accurate description of Roman politics.

R. therefore moves to look for terminology that will better reflect what is described and improve our understanding of late Republican politics. Noting that Rome's aristocratic political core exhibited complex attitudes regarding entitlement, achievement and ethics, and that all of them, as Morstein-Marx has argued, had to claim to be popularis before the people, she asks how they would have seen opposition and suggests that, given the importance of aristocratic unity, it was likely that they would seek to define opponents as being outside the group (149). This leads to her discussion of the use of seditio and seditiosus, terms that might mean betrayal, to describe those who opposed the political establishment, and pushes us towards some helpful new conceptions of opposition in Roman politics. At the same time, one wishes that R. had questioned this further, for we remain uncertain about whether these so-called seditiosi were truly seditious — as we understand the term. Were they ‘betraying Rome’ in the pursuit of popularity and self interest, or were they genuinely seeking to reassert the rôle of the people against an élite who claimed to be popularis but were more concerned with the rôle of the Senate? Was the claim of seditio a rhetorical tool to beat a political opponent, or was there a deeper, ideological divide? We are hamstrung by lack of evidence, but a little speculation would be interesting and challenge us not to become too attached to these new conceptions of Roman politics — and would take this study forward and consolidate the argument it is pushing at in the last chapter.

R.'s argument that Rome was not split into ‘optimates’ and ‘populares’ is not itself novel (as she notes on p. 12), but these terms have become so entrenched in our vocabulary for discussing Republican politics that they can be hard to escape — as the fact that R. spends a paragraph discussing the ways that she will use the terms optimas, popularis, ‘optimates’ and ‘populares’ makes clear. We want to be careful not to fall into the same trap with seditiosi. Cicero's manipulation of optimas and popularis in the Pro Sestio makes clear the complexity and ambiguity of Roman political language, the way in which meaning could be altered, changing understandings of what Roman politics should be. There are two ways of dealing with this problem — one is to join in the language game, to argue that the link between word and meaning is inherently slippery and changeable, and to run the risk of losing your readers in the chaos of the dance that can follow as you try to unravel the variety of different uses and meanings that exist. This book takes the other option, trying to pin the language down and searching for the best possible way of describing and understanding the situation. R. proceeds calmly, moving through her argument in clear stages — but at the same time, the need for careful use of language and explanation in pursuit of such a goal holds the work back and makes it feel at times over-cautious.