The commemoration of war has been a mainstay in past and current societies. Recent years have witnessed increased scholarly attention to these phenomena in Ancient Greece in works like Proietti’s Prima di Erodoto. Aspetti della memoria delle Guerre Persiane (2021) or Steinbock’s Social Memory in Athenian Public Discourse (2013) and Wienand’s Der politische Tod. Gefallenenbestattung und Epitaphios Logos im demokratischen Athen (2023). Sears’ fascinating book aims to fill a gap regarding Spartan ways of commemoration of warfare, while bringing the discussion of this idiosyncratic society into contemporary debates about ancient reception, militarism and Spartan exceptionalism. He questions whether a society permeated with militarism like the Spartan one could be pushed into more wars through shifts in commemorative practices and whether those insights hold lessons for today.
The answers to these questions are obviously not straightforward. Sears, however, manages to provide a convincing answer. Over five chapters and an epilogue, he sketches the development of Spartan mores and commemorative practices from the Archaic period until Agesilaos’ kingship and the decline of Sparta after Leuktra (371 BCE). Following these wanderings through the seventh to fourth centuries BCE, Sears embarks on a tour de force of modern echoes of Sparta as an example to follow in safeguarding the western world from barbarians. Each chapter has a lot of commendable elements, peppered with original insights into Sparta, its history, and its continuing legacy.
The first chapter, Memory and Mirage, guides the reader through the idiosyncrasies of Spartan society, such as the agoge and the exploitation of the helots. Spartan power was partially lodged in its natural settings, such as the quasi-impenetrable Taygetos mountains or the fertile banks of the Eurotas River and its agricultural gifts. The next section is devoted to how societies remember, as usual suspects like Nora, Halbwachs and Assmann get their due attention. With these theoretical parameters set, Sears ventures into the problematic reconstructing of archaic and classical Sparta on the basis of our much later textual source material. He ends this introduction with a virtual tour of ancient Sparta. Capturing the imagination of the reader, it gives a wonderful backdrop to the further chapters by illuminating various key locations in the town, like the Menelaion or the cenotaph for Pausanias, more apropos to the theme of the book.
A second chapter is dedicated to poets, and to Tyrtaios in particular. To reveal the centrality of fame and renown while dying a glorious death, Sears starts off by looking into the foundational text for that attitude, the Iliad. Taking Achilles as an example, he demonstrates how this warrior cherished personal honour over other considerations, especially abstract ideas of fighting for the Greeks. It provides the foundation for understanding the ideas about remembering warfare in archaic Sparta, as captured by Tyrtaios who transmits the local, contemporary mood. Indeed, Tyrtaios echoes the Homeric desires for eternal glory derived from the battlefield. Of course, the Spartans were not alone in adhering to this code, as other Greek communities were wont to do so too. What separated them from others, according to Sears, is that they remained committed to this ethos and let it determine their external policies for much longer. One omission in the bibliography, in my opinion, is Beck’s Localism and the Ancient Greek City-State (2020), as it could have framed the epichoric perspective of the Spartans even better and buttressed the argument for the difficulties in changing their outlook that they so clearly experienced. The epichoric prism certainly fits the bill without arguing for a Spartan exceptionalism. Even their wars in the archaic period, such as the campaigns against Messene, seem permeated with this idea, as expressed by Tyrtaios. The one known intervention where Spartans strayed from the Peloponnese—their campaign in Samos against Polycrates—fits in with personal monuments and commemorations for honour to be achieved by Spartan troops. Dedications at Samos’ Heraion underline this, as the author tentatively points out. This chapter provides an excellent foil for the later chapters, as it places the Spartans right in the middle of wider Greek attitudes. It’s during the Classical period that others deviate from this Homeric code, but not the Spartans.
In the third chapter, the possibilities for a comparison between memorial cultures of various communities becomes tangible by looking at the commemoration of the Persian Wars. According to Sears, the Spartans were reluctant to invoke any claims to ‘Greece/Hellas’ or the notorious slogan of freedom (eleutheria) He is right in his assessment that these concepts are not mentioned in any Spartan memorial, like the epigrams set up at Thermopylai or Simonides’ poem invoking Achilles. The focus on Thermopylai by the Spartans as an example worthy of emulation fits in with the glorious death envisioned by Achilles. Certainly, other poleis like Corinth or Megara referred to the pillars of ‘Greekness’, like Hellas or eleutheria. So too did the Athenians, although the author rightly references the epigram found at Loukou[1] that does not invoke these ideas at all, but focuses on fighting the Medes and protecting Athens. But if that epigram was related to the Battle of Marathon, that would create another context before these ideas became truly current; similarly with the example of the Syracusan tyrants dedicating at Delphi: that was a Panhellenic sanctuary and their invocation of ‘Greece’ was probably also linked to their origins as a colony.[2] Therefore it might be difficult to make too much of the evidence, even if the Spartans stand out. That the Plataians, for example, cling to these concepts during their trial in 427 is unsurprising, as they were essential for their local outlook. Sears’ interpretation of Pausanias’ downfall, which he relates to his boisterous adventures beyond the Peloponnese rather than to his Panhellenic boasts, is ingenious to say the least. However, the argument could have benefitted from Yates’ 2019 work States of Memory. Yates cast Pausanias’ actions in a distinctly Panhellenic light, in contrast to the epichoric outlook and commemoration of the Persian Wars. It was this ‘conflict’ that caused the trouble. These insights could have tempered the uniqueness of Spartan recollection or, conversely, strengthened by framing it as the expression of the Spartan epichoric view on the wars.
Liberty and Hellenicity became a more pressing issue for the Spartans later in the century. An example thereof is Brasidas. While not the unorthodox Spartan he is made out to be, he did embrace the slogan of Greek eleutheria within the context of the Peloponnesian War, unlike most of his fellows. His exploits at Pylos, Megara and in northern Greece demonstrate his daring character and willingness to venture further afield. Nevertheless, Brasidas was not just fighting for a greater goal, his own glory and reputation certainly benefitted. Despite his lack of care for old-fashioned Spartan values, his heroic death in an advantageous battle for the Spartans allowed for memorials to be set up for him in his homeland. Other monuments in his honour outside Sparta went beyond hitherto known standards, but these were erected by the Acanthians and Amphipolitans. Brasidas’ exploits turned a new page in Spartan society. Having utilised freedom for his own benefit and that of the Spartans, the latter would now increasingly wage more wars, all with the purported aim of liberation disguising the imperialist aims that went along with it.
That change found a strong champion in Lysander (and to a lesser extent Gylippus). These leaders followed in the footsteps of Pausanias and Brasidas in pushing Sparta even further afield with their campaigns, like those in Samos and Sicily. With Athens’ defeat, Sparta now became a real monopolist in the Greek world in terms of power. Hegemony was ill-suited to Spartan society, however. A majority was still uncomfortable with the novel approach, like openly meddling in internal affairs of other poleis. One example embodying that change is the Tomb of the Lacedaimonians in the Athenian Kerameikos. More than just continuing the tradition of burying their fallen abroad, the Spartans now wished to amplify the message that they fought in enemy territory for others, a stern departure from previous times. The shift in memorial practices worked in lockstep with the new imperialist agenda that encompassed all of the Aegean. This dangerous mix found its culmination in the figure of Agesilaos.
Sears admits that Agesilaos headlining a chapter on Spartan commemoration is remarkable, since he left no physical monuments at all (p. 171). His inclusion makes sense, however, since his rule witnessed the downfall of Spartan hegemony. More importantly, while Agesilaos combined tenets of panhellenism and imperialism in his outlook, he also retained some old-fashioned Spartan values for glorious struggle and death. It set him apart from forebearers like Lysander. Embodying this ambivalence was Agesilaos’ recall from Asia Minor on the eve of the Corinthian War, an order which he disgruntledly followed. His desire for war was problematic, especially in combination with panhellenism and imperialism, which offered even more motives to engage in warfare.
Part of the chapter is devoted to Thespiai and its memorial landscape. The latter’s penchant for valorous battles—like Thermopylai and Delion, where they lost a substantial amount of troops—and their restrained commemoration of war makes the comparison with Sparta apt. The invocation of panhellenic victors in the polyandrion for Delion, which goes unmentioned by Sears, would have strengthened that notion. Thespiai is used as a warning for what militarism—Spartan style—can generate for smaller, less powerful poleis. Despite the merits of this sub-chapter, I would like to note that the Thespians fighting at Delion may have been inspired by notions of eleutheria, since Pagondas’ speech prior to the battle as recorded by Thucydides is filled with the language of freedom and Athenian oppression. Granted, Pagondas is a Theban, but it does not exclude the possibility that the struggle was framed in similar terms for the Thespians. Moreover, the ‘destruction’ of Thespiai after Leuktra should not be overstated. Schachter and Snodgrass have shown the Thespians were certainly punished, but not to the extent that the Attic orators would have us believe.[3]
The final chapter shifts the focus from the Classical world to its modern (ab)uses and particularly those of Sparta and the Battle of Thermopylai. Sears expertly shows how different groups—ranging from Greece’s Golden Dawn to Nazi Germany and the British and Americans in World War II and the Cold War—employed the rhetoric of stopping “eastern” invaders to preserve western civilisation. This rhetoric finds its exponents in films like 300 and even modern-day Sparta. The modern comparison works to show that societies built around military values are more likely to decide for war in the future and regard this possibility as honourable. The example of Spartan reception as detailed in this chapter also shows how dangerous a monolithic understanding of the (ancient Greek) past can be and why education in this history therefore matters. The lesson for today and tomorrow segues into the epilogue, where, based on the Canadian Vimy memorial for the Canadian dead in World War I, an argument is made to employ memorials in a more positive way as a warning against the horrors of war and stress the need for peaceful solutions.
In sum, the book is a welcome addition to the growing library of works on Sparta and studies of commemoration in ancient societies. The arguments are always presented in a nuanced and balanced manner. Causes for Sparta’s change in policy and commemoration were perhaps more variegated and these variables do not always come to the fore as strongly as they might, but that does not undermine the strength of the work that Sears has delivered.
Notes
[1] SEG LVI 430.
[2] See for instance Malkin’s A Small Greek World (2011), who argues Greekness was especially pertinent in places like Sicily in juxtaposition with non-Greeks.
[3] A. Schachter. 2016. Boiotia in Antiquity. Cambridge: 113-132; A. Snodgrass. 2016. ‘Thespiai and the Fourth-Century Climax in Boiotia’ in S. Gartland (ed.) Boiotia in the Fourth Century B.C. Philadelphia: 9-31.