Sunday, March 1, 2009

Pyrrhus and Cineas

Pyrrhus has to be one of my favorite figures from the Classical world.  For those who are not up to speed on their Greco-Roman history, Pyrrhus was the King of Epirus (the western Greek state which was the home of Olympias, the mother of Alexander the Great).  He was arguably one of the era’s most brilliant generals and repeatedly defeated the Romans during their 3rd century war against the Greek colony of Tarentum in southwestern Italy.  It is from his name that we derived the notion of a “Pyrrhic victory”; when congratulated by his men following a bloody victory over Rome he reportedly said, “another victory like that and we will be finished.”  Despite his brilliance in battle he was a tragically humorous character.  

After quitting the war in Italy Pyrrhus was drawn into a conflict in the Peloponnesus where during the siege of Argos two strokes of misfortune befell him.  The first occurred after his men had taken the city gate by surprise and began pouring into the town, only to become cut off from the main force when one of their war elephants became stuck in the gate.  After the elephant was removed (by being cut apart alive) the city was taken.   As Pyrrhus rode through the streets of Argos in triumph the second misfortune occurred; an elderly Argive woman stuck him in the head with a roof tile, knocking him from his elephant at which point the unconscious King had his throat slit by an Argive.

But it is another story about the Greek King that I wanted to share.  Prior to his departure for Italy Pyrrhus was asked by his philosopher/advisor Cineas what he hoped to gain through his war with Rome.  Pyrrhus replied that with a victory over Rome the entire Italian peninsula would be open to conquest.  Cineas baited the King and asked what would happen after all of Italy was under his control.  Pyrrhus responded with detailed plans for conquest of the grain-rich island of Sicily.  Again, Cineas asked what would follow Pyrrhus’ conquest of Italy and Sicily.  Pyrrhus, who supposedly did not see what the philosopher was trying to demonstrate, stated that he would continue the war into North Africa where he would take Carthage and with it control of the world (i.e. the Mediterranean).  Once the entire world was his, asked Cineas, what would the King do?  Pyrrhus replied that he and Cineas could relax, drink and enjoy good conversation.  Cineas challenged the King to tell him what stopped them from such enjoyments now and which would save them from the war, bloodshed and suffering that would inevitably result from the conquest. Pyrrhus, unable or unwilling to answer, pursued his war with Rome anyway.

Cineas’ challenge to the King contains a few interesting morals that I think are worth analyzing.  First, was Pyrrhus conscious about what he actually wanted?  If he was then the war was unnecessary, since nothing stopped him from drunken philosophical debates at home.  If he was not conscious of his wants was it due to ignorance or intentional self-deception?  It is an important point, considering the consequences of his campaign, and I think it is a valid warning for moderns as well.  How often do we pursue a goal for which there may be other, more obvious, solutions?  And if we continue unabated is it because we have not stopped to think about our own wants, or because we know that once analyzed our goals become less appealing (and are based on the desire to fulfill other tactic desires).  

It is my opinion that Pyrrhus craved the kind of glory that other Hellenistic Kings had gained through conquest, but deflected a discussion on the merits of this desire by stating that his goal was a peaceful empire and a life filled with wine and friendship.  However, when a historical point such as this is reduced to a psychological analysis historians claim that  “you can’t put someone on the couch two thousand years after the fact.”  But I believe we can garnish any moral value we want within the narrow details of the story, so long as we recognize that they are evidence of our own concerns and biases (and not necessarily those if the story’s characters). Most modern historical writings ask questions that are pertinent to the period within which they were written and use the past as a model for analysis.  I think this is why I have such a love for history, since it affords me the opportunity to reason about modern problems by looking for an analytical cipher in the past.

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