Currently Featured Classic
by Xenophon
(translated by Rex Warner, with introduction and notes by George Cawkwell)
Penguin Books, 1950.
To encourage fidgety school boys to pay attention to their Greek lessons, English and American headmasters would frequently assign Xenophon’s Anabasis (“The March Up-Country”), usually titled The Persian Expedition. Xenophon told the thrilling story of what became known as the Ten Thousand, a Greek mercenary contingent engaged during the summer of 401 B.C. by a Persian prince, Cyrus the Younger, to support his campaign to claim the throne from his brother, Artaxerxes II. These events took place shortly after the Spartan-led coalition, with aid from Persia, had defeated Athens and its allies in the decades-long Peloponnesian War. Sparta now quietly supported Cyrus’s ambitions. According to the Anabasis, Cyrus concealed his intentions to attack Artaxerxes; but he eventually persuaded the Greeks, led by the Spartan exile Clearchus, with promises of higher pay. After a march of hundreds of miles from Sardis, the two sides met at Cunaxa, north of Babylon. The Greeks dominated their portion of the battlefield–supposedly only a single Greek hoplite was wounded by an arrow–but Cyrus was killed and his troops routed. Clearchus and four senior commanders of the expedition were lured into negotiations with the Persians, and were then captured and executed. The Greeks elected new generals, including a young Athenian, Xenophon, an acolyte of Socrates, who throughout his life was at odds with his city’s democratic leadership. Xenophon played a key role in persuading the Greeks to stay together and march to safety, despite the apparently desperate situation, rather than surrendering to the Persians.
Xenophon detailed the fighting retreat of the Ten Thousand through northern Mesopotamia and the independent or autonomous lands of the Kurds, Armenians and other peoples. (The original size of the Greek expedition was slightly larger than ten thousand, and that number did not include camp followers and slaves.) The Greeks must overcome the lack of supplies, brutal weather, difficult terrain, sickness, limited and misleading tactical and strategic intelligence, treacherous allies, and resourceful enemies who possessed knowledge of the ground and were highly motivated to fight off the invaders. After weeks on the move Xenophon, in command of the rearguard, heard great shouting from the troops on the high ground ahead of him. Alarmed, he assumed that the Greek vanguard must be under attack. But as the sound made its way through the ranks, he finally distinguished the words: “thalatta, thalatta!” “The sea!” The sea!” The troops on the heights had spotted the Black Sea and the relatively safety of the coast, which was dotted by Greek settlements. Five out of six men have survived the march. Their adventures were not yet over, however. Not all their local Greeks are friendly. The Ten Thousand divided into several distinct contingents. Unable to obtain ships to sail back to Greece, they marched along the shore to reach the Bosporus. Some of the troops, including Xenophon, crossed into Europe and fought with Suethes, a Thracian warlord, to obtain the kingship of Thrace, before being incorporated into the army of the Spartan general Thibron for further battles in Asia against the Persians.
The Persian Expedition is one of the classic adventure stories and military chronicles of the ancient world. Xenophon’s Greeks walked in the shoes of Herodotus and foreshadowed the battles of Alexander the Great. (Some contemporary analysts have read Xenophon for lessons on how a Western empire might extract its forces from a difficult situation in the Middle East.) The literal accuracy of Xenophon’s account–told in the third person–and his role and importance during the campaign were challenged by his contemporaries and by later scholars. But many in Greece, recalling also their triumphs in the Persian Wars, took the lesson from Xenophon that the Greeks were so superior to the decadent “East” that its conquest was possible and desirable.
Greek chauvinism aside, serious scholars have noted the differences between the Greek and Persian worlds and have explored the reasons for the apparent advantages enjoyed by the Greek expedition. Historian Victor Davis Hanson describes the Ten Thousand as “a marching democracy”–a polis in motion. “The soldiers routinely held assemblies in which they voted on the proposals of their elected leaders. In times of crises, they formed ad hoc boards to ensure that there were sufficient archers, cavalry, and medical corpsmen. When faced with a variety of unexpected challenges both natural and human … councils were held to debate and discuss new tactics, craft new weapons, and adopt modifications in organization. The elected generals marched and fought alongside their men–and were careful to provide a fiscal account of their expenditures.” Greek successes on the battlefield, according to Hanson, had less to do with superiority in technology or tactics and more to do with their way of life. “The peculiar way Greeks killed grew out of consensual government, equality among the middling classes, civilian audit of military affairs, and politics apart from religion, freedom and individualism, and rationalism. The ordeal of the Ten Thousand, when stranded and near extinction, brought out the polis that was innate in all Greek soldiers, who then conducted themselves on campaign precisely as civilians in their respective city-states.”
As we delve into the details, however, we see that Xenophon relates a complicated story, not merely one of Greek superiority and unchallenged success. The Ten Thousand was indeed a polis in motion, one plagued by factionalism as well as civic virtue, divided by allegiances to their respective native Greek cities and roiled by personal ambitions. They were not, or were not simply, a happy band of brothers. They were often their own worst enemies. Troops struck out on their own and disobeyed orders, frequently to plunder, which endangered the expedition as a whole. The unexpected arrival of thousands of armed men was viewed suspiciously by many of the Greek communities along the Black Sea; these cities warned that they would ally with the local non-Greek peoples to oppose the expedition if it plundered them or otherwise threatened their security and interests. Xenophon often must persuade the troops under his command and the army in general to follow what he regarded as the sensible course, especially the need for discipline and unity. (This included strict observance of religious ceremonies and paying heed to omens, even when military factors indicated otherwise.) But Xenophon must overcome suspicions that he was hardly a disinterested party himself, especially given his expressed desire to found a city as a way out of the dilemma of the expedition–which was not precisely what his mercenary colleagues had in mind–and his argument that it was necessary to defer to Spartan concerns because of Sparta’s established position of leadership among the Greek-speaking world.
The military success of the Ten Thousand had less to do with the famous hoplite tactics than with the ability to adapt on the fly to widely different fighting conditions, especially marching while under pursuit (Xenophon, for instance, urged that they deploy in towns and villages when threatened in the rear by an attacking force, rather than engage in a fighting retreat). The Greeks jury-rigged a cavalry force and slingers to replace the capabilities lost with the destruction of Cyrus’s army. They reduced their baggage and animals, and recently-acquired slaves, to the bare minimum to ease logistical demands. Diplomacy proved to be essential to the success of the expedition. After the capture of Clearchus and the other senior Greek leaders, Xenophon and his colleagues refused further talks with the Persians, so as not to undermine the morale of their forces. But as they moved into the territories outside Persian control, they must find ways to address the “security dilemma” to avoid unnecessary battles without undue risk of being lured into a trap. They struck agreements with cities and tribes to fight their local enemies in return for safe passage, guides, and supplies. They told their prospective allies that they would never again have at their disposal such a force with which to obtain their objectives. The leaders of the expedition negotiated truces to retrieve and bury bodies, in exchange for promises not to burn villages. One of Xenophon’s fellow commanders offered this message to the Persians and other potential opponents: “we shall go through the country doing as little damage as possible, but if anyone tries to stop us on our way, we shall fight our way out as hard as we can.”
Xenophon’s overriding operational plea to his colleagues and troops was that of unity, even when they reached the relative safety of the Black Sea coast: “So long as you keep together in your present great force, you are sure both of respect and finding supplies. One of the results of power is the ability to take what belongs to the weaker. But if you became dispersed, and this force of ours was broken up into small detachments, then you would not be able to secure your food, and it would be a sad business getting away from here. … if anyone is discovered leaving us before the whole army is safe, I think he should be put on trial for misconduct.” Unity was necessary to obtain decisive victory. Unless the Greeks were seen as being absolutely superior on the battlefield, they would lose their ability to deter and coerce the local peoples, who would soon learn to play upon the factionalism among the expedition.
Throughout the Anabasis, Xenophon offers his reflections on the nature of military command. He told his newly-elected fellow commanders that they could not display any discouragement or indecision before their soldiers. “In peacetime you got more pay and respect than they did. Now, in war time, you ought to hold yourselves to be braver than the general mass of men, and to take decisions for the rest, and, if necessary, to be the first to do the hard work.” Leadership consisted in creating a sense of direction and purpose: “there will be a great rise in their spirits if one can change the way they think, so that instead of having in their heads the one idea of ‘what is going to happen to me?’ they may think ‘what action am I going to take?’” The commanders of the expedition must especially overcome despair because the quantitative advantages that the Persians possess: “You are well aware that it is not numbers or strength that brings victory in war. No, it is when one side goes against the enemy with the gods’ gift of stronger morale that their adversaries, as a rule, cannot withstand them.”
— Patrick Garrity, March 6, 2009
An American Classic
William Gilpin
1860
William Gilpin, sometime U.S. Army officer, Western explorer, Mexican War veteran, friend of Andrew Jackson and Thomas Hart Benton, land speculator, and governor of the Colorado Territory (1861-1862), is sometimes accorded the title of America’s first geopolitician. In a series of articles and speeches, which were summarized in his best known publication, The Central Gold Region: The Grain, Pastoral and Gold Regions of North America (1860), Gilpin argued that the development of the interior of the continent, made possible in large part by a properly-sited transcontinental railroad, would create a new and dominant commercial line of communication between Europe and Asia. This would inaugurate a new era in human affairs focused around what would become the greatest civilization in history, the Republican Empire of North America.
Gilpin adopted the familiar theory of a succession of empires arising along a "hereditary line of progress" from east to west, each one superior to its predecessors. From the geographer Alexander von Humboldt, Gilpin derived the idea of the "Isothermal Zodiac," approximately thirty degrees in width across the Northern Hemisphere, whose axis "alternates above and below the 40th degree of latitude, as the neighborhood or remoteness of the oceans modifies the climates of the continents." Through it ran the "Axis of Intensity," whose average temperature was 52 degrees Fahrenheit. The Isothermal Zodiac contained the conditions most favorable to civilization. The overwhelming majority of the white population lived within it. The great empires had formed and migrated along this axis, from China and India to Persia, Greece, Rome, Spain, and Britain. Most of North America, the next and final destination of this progression, lay within the Isothermal Zodiac and was bisected by the Axis of Intensity. The American pioneers were now the instrument of progress for the emerging North American Empire, as they were in the process of rapidly populating the trans-Mississippi region.
The center of the North American continent was uniquely configured to support the world-historic empire of the future. "This mission of civic empire," Gilpin proclaimed, "has for its oracular principle the physical characteristics and configuration of our continent, wherein the Basin of the Mississippi predominates as supremely as the sun among the planets." The Mississippi Valley was bounded on both sides by mountain rims so that the continent had a generally concave structure. The vast interior was connected by a coherent network of rivers, which resulted in a natural system of communication that facilitated trade, transportation, governance, and a common language and culture. By contrast, Asia and Europe were dissected by central mountain chains and plateaus, and unconnected river systems, which resulted in discrete civilizations constantly at war with one another. The topography of North America, however, was such that if the character of society developed properly, there would be a naturally integrated union, with a population and resources equal to that of the rest of the entire world. Gilpin waxed especially eloquently about what he called the Plateau of North America, part of the Great Table Land, the area between the main Rockies and the Sierra Nevada, whose prime city was Denver. These lands, even more so than the Mississippi Basin proper, had the most favorable climate, soil, and mineral resources to support an almost unlimited population.
Although nature pointed to the creation of the American Empire, human agency had an essential role to play. The material means for bringing about this Empire was a Pacific, or transcontinental, railway, which would link the agricultural heartland of North America with the huge, untapped markets of Asia. Among the competing routes, Gilpin was certain that the line must be built along a central route, from Independence, Missouri through the Rocky Mountains by way of South Pass, and terminating at the mouth of the Columbia River. Gilpin argued that this port, rather than San Francisco, would be the natural transit point for Pacific oceanic commerce. Once the American transcontinental railway was completed, it would unify the global economy in an unprecedented fashion. By developing the interior and connecting it with the coast, the United States would become the center of a new pattern of international commerce. America’s "intermediate geographical position between Asia and Europe … invests her with the powers and duties of arbiter between them. Our continent is at once a barrier which separates the other two, yet fuses and harmonizes their intercourse in all relations from which force is absent." The great cities of the world, aligned roughly along the line of 40 degrees north, would be linked by a Cosmopolitan Railway that would cross the three principle continents, including a line (or car ferry) over the Bering Strait connecting North America and Asia. The value of sea power would decline and land transportation would take on much greater importance. The commercial and transportation revolution, in turn, would diminish the old cycle of wars among disparate peoples.
Gilpin argued that Russia, although less favorably situated than North America, was nevertheless in the best position of all other powers to take advantage of the railroad/transportation revolution. Unlike Tocqueville, Gilpin saw a commonality of interests between the Bear and the Eagle, who would have a joint interest in constructing the global rail route:
Probably there are fewer opportunities for disagreements and jealousies than may be found among any other of the first class power. … Both are among the largest and strongest among the civilized powers, both in territory and population, and both are growing larger and stronger while the other powers of Christendom are falling into decay. Build this railway between them, and America and Russia may join hand against all the rest of the world on any issue, military, commercial, and industrial. Then indeed this back way to India of which Columbus had dreamed … will become the chief highway of the nations, the front and finishing line of progress, circling round the warm and hospitable Pacific, whose shores are pregnant with limitless undeveloped resources, leaving the cold Atlantic to those who choose to navigate it…
By contrast, Gilpin regarded Britain—the naval power that currently dominated the cold Atlantic—to be the great geopolitical and commercial loser when the North American transcontinental railroad (re)unified the Isothermal Zodiac. The British were the natural enemy of American civilization and were then trying, ineffectually Gilpin believed, to keep the United States from developing its Pacific and Asiatic commerce. But the greatest threat to the American Union was internal—not the division over slavery (which Gilpin was convinced would be overcome naturally by the process of continental growth); but rather the purveyors of what he called a "maritime policy," which had held sway since the Monroe administration. "The maritime policy blends the double object of blocking up the interior, and extending the seaboard in a shell around the continent. For this the navy is enormously increased and the army emasculated. Enterprises in the central states are marred, but those of the seaboard are sustained directly from the National Treasury." Under the maritime policy, the heroic and instinctual march of the "pioneer army" had been scoffed at, burdened by government, and distracted by various "scientific men" who put forward obstacles to the development of the one true rail route across the continent. "To bridle PROGRESS has been the policy of thirty years. To keep the people out of the wilderness. To refuse Territorial governments, and prevent Territories from becoming States." Americans should unite in supporting the "central domestic work" instead of "dissipating the national energies upon circuitous routes, running near the equator, through foreign countries beyond our control, and certain to involve us in the competitions, the jealousies, and the hostile interests of foreigners and rivals."
The historian of the American West, Bernard DeVoto, concluded that Gilpin’s claim of objective, scientific analysis "was early nineteenth century, which is to say that much of it was a priori, deduced, generalized, falsely systematized, and therefore wrong. Much of his extrapolation, though based on persuasive data and worked out with rigorous logic, was sheer fantasy." The relationship between sea and land power, for instance, evolved in different ways than anticipated by Gilpin. His assumption that commercial unification and globalization pointed in a pacific and Pacific direction was, at the very least, premature. Nevertheless, DeVoto argued, "his system contains also remarkable intuitions and anticipation — In it one sees America learning to think continentally." Gilpin’s perspective influenced, or reflected in part, the policies of American statesmen as divergent as Young Democrat Stephen Douglas and progressive Whig William Seward; and Gilpin foreshadowed the argument of Halford Mackinder about the end of the Columbian Age.
— Patrick Garrity, May 22, 2009
