THE ETERNAL HUBRIS AND NEMESIS OF PELOPONNESIAN WAR


By Tsoncho Tsonchev

***

The Montréal Review, November 2025



A big war starts over a trifle, or a spark, and this reveals the explosive force that has been stored in advance. One need only look at Thucydides' 'History of the Peloponnesian War', written in the late fifth century BC, to see that nothing in the world has really changed.

'There is nothing new under the sun' is a well-known biblical saying that reveals something perplexing about human nature. When we discuss war, Solomon's observation that nothing changes makes us wonder. Those involved in international politics are familiar with Thucydides' chronicles of war (or have experienced or learned about similar events), yet they still repeat old mistakes and become embroiled in conflict. This may, of course, be explained by the order of things. Regardless of our knowledge, situation or desire, we eventually encounter the same problems as many others before us. No admonitions, plans, schemes, efforts, actions or inactions can prevent the repetition of an error — if war is indeed considered an error. (As a Christian, I would argue that war is always an error. As a realist, however, I would add that it is an error poised for repetition.)

Let's once again recall moments from the historical example. Thucydides opens his book with the remarkable admission that interpretations of war are always biased. For this reason, he decided to provide a realistic account of the great war between Athens and Sparta (as I will call the Lacedaemonians). Various explanations have been put forward for the causes of the war, but Thucydides believed that the root cause was a broken treaty (and Athens's rise).

This, at the very beginning, is confirmation of the saying "Nothing new under the sun." It confirms it in two ways. The first is the ever-present bias in the interpretation of war; the second is the breach of trust (or treaty). Consider, for example, the ongoing war between the U.S. and Russia in Ukraine. We notice two things: the completely biased treatment of the causes of the conflict and of the war itself, and the root cause: the breach of a treaty. The West (and Ukraine) claims that Russia is an aggressor that breaches treaties and the territorial status quo established at the end of the Cold War. Russia, on the other hand, insists that the West did not keep its promises regarding non-expansion and security guarantees, and that Ukraine does not respect agreements either. What I find amazing in all this, based on media reports and circulating opinions, is the almost total lack of a more nuanced interpretation of the conflict. Paradoxically, both sides tell the truth and yet both twist it with their bias. As Thucydides notes, bias becomes the norm and truth the exception. Had the order been reversed, we would either have forgotten about the conflict in Ukraine by now, or more likely, there would not be a conflict at all. The truth is that Russia, Ukraine and the West all broke treaties and verbal agreements. The reason for this was their common thirst for power and security. If they had respected their agreements and acted reasonably in the common interest, this war would not have happened. But that would have set a historical precedent.

How did the Peloponnesian War begin? Over a trivial matter, as it were. It started with a minor conflict between factions in a small city far to the north-west, which were not directly or critically related to the parties that would later become involved in the war. Neither Athens nor Sparta were interested in the initial dispute. In fact, they did not become involved until much later, when the conflict had already started to spread. The city in question was Epidamnus, and the conflict was internal, between two competing factions: the democrats and the aristocrats. The parties sought help from abroad to win their case, turning to the larger cities of Corinth and Corcyra (a former colony of Corinth) to resolve the dispute. These two powers became entangled in the conflict, which escalated and expanded into a large-scale, protracted war involving the two most powerful states in Greece, Athens and Sparta, and their respective allies. This is how big wars begin: a small internal dispute escalates, attracting greater powers to back the warring sides. These powers then bring in their superiors to finally resolve the issue, which by this point has become something different from what it was at the beginning.

Solomon's observation has once again been confirmed: a local conflict can drag the entire world into a global war, both in the past and in the present day. The events that led to the Peloponnesian War are essentially being repeated in modern times. For example, warring factions in Ukraine seek help from powerful allies, who then become involved. Ukraine is threatened with losing its independence, while a significant minority within it (Russians) is threatened with losing its citizen rights and cultural autonomy. Both sides have valid grievances, but the great powers — already engaged in poorly concealed competition and practically incapable of restraint or neutrality — decide to support their clients. Ukraine's domestic issues become an international problem with worldwide consequences. Years ago, I wrote a book in which I argued that domestic conflicts should always be resolved domestically, just as families should solve their problems at home without external intervention, even from well-meaning parents or relatives. At the time I wrote the book, war in Ukraine was unthinkable, or at least seemed a distant possibility. Now, a few years into the war, we all know how it started: great powers do not usually shy away from getting involved in the internal affairs of an independent state.

The situation in Hellas was as follows: For reasons that I won't mention now, Corinth and Corcyra became drawn into the domestic conflict of Epidamnus and both turned to Athens: Corcyra asked for help and Corinth asked Athens not to take sides. Although Athens was in peace with Corinth at the time, she decided to support Corcyra (de facto breaching their Thirty Years' Peace agreement), who was not an ally and generally pursued an independent foreign policy. Athens guaranteed that she would only become militarily involved if Corcyra were threatened with losing the war on its own territory. In other words, Athens promised to exercise restraint by establishing epimahia, or a defensive treaty: she would only join the fight if Corinth invaded or directly threatened Corcyra.

The choice that the Athenians made seemed pragmatic. After all, Corinth had helped Athens win previous wars against Aegina and the Persians. But it could be a dangerous friend (if not an ally), being too powerful to control. Athens had experienced political issues with allies before, so there was no guarantee that Corinth would always stay friendly to her.

In fact, the Corinthians shared the same suspicions as the Athenians. They did not trust the Athenians for the same reason: they were too powerful. The conflict with Corcyra would prove the sincerity of the friendship between the two cities, providing an opportunity to strengthen relations, as the Corinthians explained when pleading for support for their case. Nevertheless, the careful reader would probably notice that, when seeking neutrality from Athens, Corinthians' tone also contained a subtle threat. For example, they addressed the Athenians as equals, asserting their moral right to be supported and their ability to take revenge if Athens did not accept their request. In contrast, Corcyra's plea was visibly more humble, and their petition made it clear who posed the greater danger to Athens. The greater danger was Corinth because a stronger ally is either a lord or a future enemy.

In the subsequent war between Corinth and Corcyra, Corinth was on the verge of victory, but Athens prevented them from achieving a decisive win. The conflict resulted in a new status quo. Corinth now had Athens as an enemy, even though the two cities were still formally at peace. But the new status quo brought a chain of events. These events resulted in dragging in a third player into the power dynamic: Sparta. At the time, Athens and Sparta were the two most powerful cities in the Hellenic world. Although Athens had lost its weaker but no less dangerous and capable "friend", Corinth, she now seemed to have gained too much influence. Especially in the eyes of Sparta. Ultimately, the war, which began as a domestic conflict in a small, remote city, became a major disruptor of the balance of power across the entire region. This led to a need for a reconfiguration of alliances and a renewed power competition.

After failing with the war against Corcyra, Corinth, nervous and busy, now blamed Sparta for not acting against Athens and for permitting her to build up unnoticed her power and influence. The Corinthians had a tendency to think in terms of realpolitik, considering the primacy of force over any covenants or alliances. For example, when pleading to the Athenians, they said in their speeches, as reported by Thucydides, not once but twice that a power has the right to punish its allies if they revolt and break their promises. This emphasis could be considered, firstly, as a threat, and, secondly and more importantly, as a sign of a specific political culture: one that believes the hegemon, the strongest nation, is above the rule of law in any case, and has the right to bless or punish allies or enemies according to its own interests. The Corinthians (and the Athenians, for that matter) did not believe in fair alliances on an equal footing. For them, relationships between states depended on the balance of power and the capacity for dominance. People and nations came together out of pure self-interest and necessity, through force and fear. Turning to Sparta after its humiliation, Corinth advanced the same arguments of realpolitik, showing the importance and responsibilities of the hegemonic power. According to the Corinthians, despite being the strongest state in Hellas, Sparta permitted Athens to extend and grow its influence. 'It is you who are responsible for all this', they said bluntly.

Of course, Corinth's real goal was not to act as a judge, nor to admit Sparta's superiority and responsibility as a leader. Rather, they simply aimed to secure the support of a powerful ally that could counter Athens' growing advantage. In the following discussion between the great Hellenic powers, as recorded by Thucydides, the arguments and insights are remarkably similar to those of the present day. Thucydides' description of the positions of the competing powers is amazingly contemporary and psychologically insightful.

When trying to persuade Sparta to enter the war against Athens, the Corinthians said: 

When one is deprived of one’s liberty, one is right blaming not too much the man who puts the fetters on as the one who had the power to prevent him, but did not use it – especially when such a one rejoices in the glorious reputation of having been the liberator of Hellas. 

Are these not the same arguments voiced by Ukrainian envoys at US and European embassies today? Ukraine is ready to blame the US (and the West in general) — the winner of the Cold War and a symbol of liberty — as well as the country that defeated Nazi Germany in the Second World War (along with Russia), for allowing Russia to invade and occupy Ukrainian territory. Whether or not this is true and how the West should respond are different matters. What is striking here is that, fundamentally, nothing in international politics has changed. The losing side tempts the greater power to join the conflict, transferring the responsibility for it to the greater power as a legitimate peacekeeper. It is not only Ukrainians who use the Corinthian argument. Europeans are also pressing the US to take responsibility for the war and resolve the conflict militarily. According to Ukraine and Europe, US policy has never been strong enough to counter Russia's actions. A common argument regarding the war in Ukraine is that the American administration has been too slow to provide weapons and impose more serious sanctions, and has been overly cautious throughout the conflict. However, realistically, what can the US do against a nuclear power with interests and demands that the United States itself acknowledges, to prevent the conflict from escalating into a world war? Was it not more responsible of the American administration to be cautious? What were the alternatives? The spark was lit, decades of built-up tensions were revealed and the amassed energy was released. Now that the opportunity for a peaceful resolution to all the tensions has been missed, what can the administration do? Perhaps Trump was right when he said that the war should never have been allowed to happen. He does not primarily blame Russia, but rather the short-sightedness and indecisiveness of his domestic opponents: Joe Biden, the Democrats and their previous administrations.

In short, just as Ukrainians blame the West today, Corinthians used to blame Sparta for their indecisiveness. They argue that while they hesitate, Athens is expanding. "Why are we still considering whether aggression has taken place instead of how to resist it?" they ask. "Men who are capable of real action," they say, "make their plans and then go forward without hesitation, while their enemies have still not made up their minds." The Spartans must act before the Athenians do, and demonstrate their commitment to their duty as guardians of freedom, just as the West must act before the Russians do.

The Corinthians say: 

While the Athenians are suspected to have the following tactic of expansion... they are proceeding slowly because they think that your (Sparta's) sensitiveness to the situation enables them to go on their way unnoticed, you will find that they will develop their full strength once they realize that you do see what is happening and are still doing nothing to prevent it.

You Spartans, the Corinthians continued, are the only people in Hellas who wait calmly on the events, relying for your defence, not on action but on making people think that you will act. You alone do nothing in the early stages to prevent an enemy expansion, you wait until your enemy has doubled his strength. Certainly you used to have the reputation of being safe and sure enough: now one wonders whether this reputation was deserved. 

Then the Corinthians made the classic argument that has been heard over the centuries in relation to Americans, who are separated from the rest of the world by an ocean; the British, who are separated from Europe by the La Manche; and the Russians, whose vast territory and harsh winters protect them from invasions. They said that the Spartans felt 'safe', implying that they relied on their geography (and army) for security. However, they quickly added that geography could never offer absolute protection, as the Persian invasion of years gone by had revealed.

Corinthians made yet another observation that history later proved numerous times: that wars are won by the mistakes of the aggressors, despite the mistakes and inactions of third parties that might resolve or stop the conflict early. A more recent example of this argument is Hitler's aggression against Russia. The German advance failed because they permitted their front line to become too extended and did not fully take into account the Russian winter and the size of the country (geography and climate were key factors). Nazi Germany should also have studied why Napoleon failed in Russia, and considered that they were not fighting a weak monarchical regime as in the First World War, but a totalitarian regime capable of mobilising all the country's resources.

Finally, the Corinthians raised the 'culture' factor: the cultural differences between the Athenians and the Spartans. 'To our minds,' they said, 'you Spartans are quite unaware of this difference. You have never tried to imagine what sort of people the Athenians are, against whom you will have to fight. How different they are!' The Corinthians said that the Athenians were innovators and active performers. The Spartans, on the other hand, were conservatives who were 'good at keeping things as they are'. They never originated any ideas and their actions tended to fall short of their goals. The Corinthians said that the Athenians liked to take risks and remained confident in the midst of danger. On the contrary, the Spartans had always done less than they were capable of, mistrusting their own judgement. The Spartans were always hesitant; the Athenians never were. 'While you stay at home (Sparta was a land power and Athens a maritime power), they are always abroad. They think that the farther they go, the more they will get; you think that any movement may endanger what you already have.'

According to the Corinthians, the Athenians were optimists who never stopped or doubted themselves. Even if they failed at something, they would put their hopes elsewhere. They were expansionists, always ready to conquer and never satisfied with what they already had. 'Their idea of a holiday is doing what needs doing; they prefer hardship and action to peace and quiet... In short, they are incapable of living a quiet life themselves or allowing anyone else to do so.' The Spartans were the complete opposite: conservative and incapable of revolutionary or original action, they were left behind in many ways. 'Athens, because of the variety of their experience, is a far more modern state than you are.' The Corinthians' criticism of Sparta ended with the following words: "Your inactivity has caused enough harm. Now let there be an end to it. Provide your allies, especially Potidaea (a tributary city where conflict moved and Athenian dominance was reinforced), with the promised support and invade Attica immediately. Do not let your friends and kinsmen fall into the hands of your bitter enemies.”

One might wonder at the sharpness, craftiness and subtle psychological skill of the Corinthian argument. We observe an age-old strategy employed by competing powers: the pursuit of interests and cunning persuasiveness. Corinth combines threat with manipulation and a careful analysis of national psychology, culture, geography, and military capacity. Using historical examples and logic, it does everything possible to convince Sparta that it must act urgently to defend its dignity and reputation, even at the expense of its own security. There is no need to list all the historical analogies that can be found in Thucydides' ancient document. Even if the words of the Corinthians were the author's own invention, they still ring true and could be used as further proof that nothing in human history has changed radically. The Peloponnesian conflict is often used by historians and scholars as an example of classical realpolitik. Morgenthau (in Politics Among Nations), E. H. Carr (in The Twenty Years' Crisis), Donald Kagan (in On the Origins of War) and George Kennan (in his theory of containment) all turned to Thucydides to find grand lessons in the ever-repeating principles of power politics. Athens and Sparta were two great powers whose characters were reminiscent of 20th century America and Russia: both had specific geographic advantages and opposite trade practices, as well as cultural, political and ideological differences, and conservative and liberal tendencies. Today, we can see similar characteristics in the Ukraine war: a proxy war between military colossi, a conflict between alliances of naval and maritime powers (NATO) and land powers (Russia and China), and a clash between liberal states with dynamic political systems that are prone to risk and flexible expansionism, and conservative authoritarian regimes that act with calculation and long-term strategy.

How did Athens react to the Corinthian argument? It is another example of political realism and the existence of timeless truths. The Athenians listened carefully to the Corinthian speech and asked the Spartans to allow them to present their case in the assembly. The Spartans agreed.

From the outset, the Athenians made it clear that they were the more powerful party. Unlike the Corinthians, they did not seek the approval or authority of the Spartans. They stated that they did not view the Spartan assembly as a court and emphasised that their speech was not intended to defend themselves against the Corinthians' attacks, but rather to prevent the Spartans from making the wrong decision.

It is interesting to study Athenian behaviour. They act like a great power, with the self-esteem and courage to openly defend their interests. Just as the Corinthians spoke to the Athenians as equals when asking for neutrality in their conflict with Corcyra, so now Athens speaks with authority and visibly more self-respect than the Corinthians. 'Our aim,' they told the Spartans, 'is to show you what sort of city you will have to fight against if you make the wrong decision.' They claimed that Athens single-handedly prevented the Persian invasion of Hellas. 'The fate of Hellas depended on her navy.' She had three advantages to win that war, which she supposedly still has: technology ('produced most of the ships'), brainpower ('the most intelligent generals') and courage.

Athens urges Sparta not to act against her. It doesn't plead, nor does it even threaten. It is so convinced of its own power that it is generous enough to advise its potential adversary against acting against its own interests. Clearly, this was an established hegemon speaking to another, as we will see later in Sparta's reaction. Athens gained prominence after defeating Persia, and, like other historical hegemonies such as Rome, Russia and the US, they argue that they did not gain their empire by force, but by request. They were asked by others for help against a powerful intruder. The Athenians simply accepted their supreme position, acting on the side of justice and doing nothing against 'human nature'. They had supremacy, but were unable to give it up because of three powerful, natural motives: 'security, honour, and self-interest'. They openly expressed their belief that 'it had always been a rule that the weak should be subject to the strong'.

In response to all this, the Spartan king, Archidamus, said:

As for being slow and cautious–which is the usual criticism made against us–therr is nothing to be ashamed of in that. If you take something on before you are ready for it, hurry at the beginning will mean delay at the end… ‘Slow’ and ‘cautious’ can equally will be ‘wise’ and ‘sensible’.

These were, without a doubt, words of wisdom. Archidamus sensed the Corinthians' attempt to manipulate Sparta's feelings, trying to convince the Spartans that their authority and dignity were being questioned. He was also well aware of the threat posed by the Athenians. In response, he said that courage is not rashness and that preparation for war is more important than the war itself. One must know one's own capabilities and those of the enemy before risking conflict.

Archidamus went on to say that the Spartans did not become arrogant because of their successes, implying that the Athenians were behaving arrogantly. He also said that the Spartans did not consider the opinions of others when judging their own actions, responding to the Corinthians.

Because of our well-ordered life, he said, we are brave in war and wise in council. The Spartans' self-control was based on their sense of dignity and self-respect, as well as their courage. They were wise because they knew only the things that mattered, and didn't speculate or theorise about the motives and actions of their potential enemies, so that they could find a reason to act swiftly against them. Experience had taught them that there was not much difference between the way Spartans and others thought. They also knew that there was always an element of chance at play in every situation. They never underestimated their enemies, knowing that the strongest were those who had been trained hardest. Archidamus ended his speech by saying that Sparta is in no hurry because it is strong enough to take its time.

So, what happened? What was expected happened. Things took a predictable turn for the worse, and the age-old story of human war and conflict was repeated. Another Spartan, Sthenelaidas, stood up and advised a quick and decisive war against Athens. He reminded his compatriots of their duty to defend their allies and expressed the real reason for his rashness: fear. “Do not allow the Athenians to grow stronger! Do not entirely betray your allies! Instead let us, with the help of heaven, go forward to meet the aggressor!”

Emotion prevailed, and Sparta went to war with Athens, a conflict that lasted almost thirty years and ended with the victory of Sparta and the end of the Greek Golden Age. However, Sparta did not maintain its hegemony for long, and the stage was set for a new cycle of hubris and nemesis.

***

Tsoncho Tsonchev has degrees in political science, history, and theology, and a Ph.D. in religious studies from McGill University. He is the editor of The Montreal Review and the author of The Political Theology of Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, and Reinhold Niebuhr: Essays in Political Theology and Christian Realism (The Montreal Review, 2018) and Person and Communion: The Political Theology of Nikolai Berdyaev (The Montreal Review, 2021).

***

 


MONTREAL REVIEW CONTRIBUTOR'S ESSAY COLLECTION HONORED



 

 

The Montréal Review © All rights reserved. ISSN 1920-2911