The fate of Spartans found guilty of the “crime” of cowardice has inspired pity in modern readers, and indeed formed the basis of entire novels.
The latter appear to have been based on Xenophon’s description
of the fate of Spartan cowards. Xenophon writes:
…at Sparta everyone would be ashamed
to be associated with a coward in is mess or to have him as a wrestling
partner. When sides are being picked for a ball game, that sort of man is often
left out, with no position assigned, and in dances he is banished to the
insulting places. Moreover, in the streets he is required to give way, as well
as to give up his seat even to younger men. The girls of his family he has to
support at home, and must explain to them why they cannot get husbands. He must
endure having a household with no wife, and at the same time has to pay a fine
for this. He must not walk around with a cheerful face, nor must he imitate men
of impeccable reputation: otherwise he must submit to being beaten by his
betters. When disgrace of this kind is imposed on cowards, I am certainly not
surprised that death is preferred [in Sparta] to a life of such dishonor and
ignominy. (Xenophon, Spartan Society,
9.)
Interestingly, Xenophon’s description of the treatment of
cowards is an expanded version of Herodotus’ description of the fate
of Aristodemos, the sole Spartiate survivor of Thermopylae. According to Herodotus, “.. [Aristodemos] was
met upon his return with reproach and disgrace; no Spartan would give him a
light to kindle his fire, or speak to him, and he was called a Trembler.”(Herodotus,
The Histories, Book Seven: 231)
Yet while the ancient sources on Sparta agree on what the
treatment of “cowards” was, many modern writers jump to incorrect
conclusions about just how Sparta defined “coward.” Not every man, who had the
misfortune to fall into enemy hands, was in Spartan eyes a coward. The best
evidence of this is the
surrender of 120 Spartiates to the Athenians in 425 BC, after being cut off by
the Athenian fleet on the island of Sphakteria.
Had Sparta believed that these men ought to have died rather than surrender, then Sparta would have
treated the men as dead. In short, Sparta would have written them off and
continued to pursue the war, as if they had all died. Yet quite the reverse happened. Instead of
continuing as if the men were dead, Sparta sued for peace again and again. The sole objective of these
peace offers was to obtain the release of the captive “cowards.” The increasing
desperation with which Sparta sought to have these captive Spartiates returned
to Sparta is the most eloquent evidence that these men were not
disgraced.
On the contrary, as Anton Powell underscores in Athens and Sparta: Constructing Greek
Political and Social History from 478 BC, (London:1988), although the
captive Spartiates were degraded from full-citizenship status to lesser
citizenship on their return from Athens, this was not because of a presumption
of wrong-doing. Rather, fear that they might have been infected by Athenian ideas, after three years in Athenian captivity, motivated Spartan sanctions. Furthermore, they were later completely
reinstated, and some were even elected to public office! Such treatment is not
consistent with the social ostracism described by Herodotus and Xenophon.
The key to understanding the situation is a verbal exchange,
recorded by Thucydides (History of the
Peloponnesian War, Book IV, 40), between an Athenian and one of the
captured Spartiates. The Athenian mocked the prisoners by saying that the “real
Spartans” were the dead. The Spartan answered: “spindles (by which he meant
arrows) would be worth a great deal, if they distinguish brave men from
cowards.” As Thucydides stressed, “the whole Greek world” was amazed that
Spartiates surrendered, precisely because they failed to understand – as do most
modern commentators – that Spartans did not admire senseless sacrifice.
There was a world of difference – at least to professional
soldiers like the Spartans – between Leonidas’ position at Thermopylae, and the
situation faced by the Lacedaemonian troops trapped on Sphakteria in 425 BC.
Leonidas learned that he was out-flanked and the Pass at Thermopylae no longer
defensible only after daybreak on the morning of the third day of the battle.
In that moment, the most important strategic concern became saving the lives of
as many Greek hoplites as possible. Leonidas was not interested in glory – much
less futile gestures. He was interested
in preserving Spartan independence from Persia, and this in turn depended on
ensuring that Sparta and her allies had the means to fight the Persians at another place on another day. Leonidas had a very clear strategic objective when he
sacrificed himself and his troops: giving the rest of the Greek forces time to
withdraw. Leonidas and his 300
Spartiates, along with the Thespians and Thebans, remained in the pass not to
die, but to delay the advance of the Persians long enough for the rest of the Greek forces to get
away.
The Spartiates at Sphakteria, on the other hand, could gain
nothing whatsoever by dying where they were trapped. The Spartan high command,
the Gerousia, and the kings all recognized that fact. The fact that the Spartan leadership
pointedly refused to give orders to the local commander indicates that no higher strategic aims were at stake. The commander on the ground was given instructions (according
to Thucydides) to “make your own decision about yourselves, so long as you do
nothing dishonorable;” he was told to act at his discretion. (Note: this is evidence that the Sparta's leaders expected junior
commanders to be able think and act in accordance with sound military
principles about when and what sacrifice was commensurate to the tactical
objective.) The fact that the commander at Sphakteria, after
consultation with his men, chose to surrender – despite the admonishment not
to do anything “dishonorable,” demonstrates that these Spartiates in no
way considered their actions “dishonorable” or “cowardly.” They were acting
reasonably to prevent unnecessary casualties in a situation, where no military
utility could be gained by further sacrifice.
The Spartan attitude can be illustrated by the alleged retort
of a Spartiate offered a fighting cock “willing to die.” Reportedly, the Spartan replied that he
preferred a cock “willing to kill.” Likewise, the following quote of the
Eurypontid king Agesilaus is relevant here. When asked which of the two
virtues, courage or justice, was the better, Agesilaus allegedly answered:
“Courage has no value, if justice is not in evidence too; but if everyone were
to be just, then no one would need courage.”
The Spartans did not expect men to sacrifice themselves
senselessly. The primary purpose of
Spartan arms was to inflict damage on the
enemy, not to die. Yes, Sparta
expected their men to be willing to
die – if it would further Sparta’s interests, but not to die for no purpose, as
would have been the case at Sphakteria.
Thus there was no approbation associated with the surrender of the 120
on Sphakteria, and the men who surrendered were not viewed as cowards – particularly
since the majority of them were only following orders.
The fate described by Herodotus and Xenophon was reserved for
individuals, who failed to follow orders or, like Aristodemus, deserted
comrades, who were engaged in a military action. Not the act of surrender was
abhorrent to the Spartans, but the rather the failure to stand by one’s comrades
and Sparta's kings.
