U.S. soldiers from the 101st Airborne Division kick down a door in order to search a house. A long military campaign can be successful if lessons from the past are heeded, says Barry Strauss. DAVID FURST/AFP/GETTY IMAGES
The prose of the Iliad and the fall of Troy offer lessons for our war in Baghdad
Date published: 9/17/2006
THACA, N.Y.--There's a war on in the Middle East. The struggle is long and frustrating. Although the Western coalition wins every battle, victory is elusive. The public is losing its patience. Prominent supporters have quit the war effort. The opposition demands withdrawal. The commander in chief turns to religion for comfort.
You know, of course, what war I am referring to. No, not that war: I mean the Trojan War. The mythical conflict between Greeks and Trojans over the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen, has a lot in common with the war in Iraq today.
And, as archaeology increasingly reveals, the Trojan War probably really did take place, around 1200 B.C., although there was a lot more at stake than a runaway bride. Freedom, security, and control of resources were all in the balance.
George Bush should brush up on his Homer. The blind bard knew all that a poem can say about a weary war. In "The Iliad," in fact, he founded western literature with the story of an army on the verge of a breakdown.
Homer is a classic poet. The epic sweep of the Trojan War flows in his words, just as the tragic grandeur of the heroes underlies his lines. But Homer's real greatness is something simpler: He is never wrong about suffering. The old masters never forgot to say how hard things once were and, in the cycle of human events, they will be again. All we have to do is read them.
Take the plot of "The Iliad." This epic poem begins after nine long years of war. For all this time the Greeks have camped at Troy, hoping to sack the city, loot its wealth, and bring back Helen, who had run off with a Trojan prince. In spite of various successes they seem no closer to their goal.
In a public argument, the Greeks' leader, Agamemnon, humiliates his best general, Achilles. The hotheaded hero comes close to killing Agamemnon in return. (Fortunately, American Gen. Eric Shinsekei went more quietly when his pre-war advice was derided.) Achilles deals Agamemnon a crushing blow nonetheless: He pulls himself and all his men out of the war. Today's defections from the war party by William F. Buckley and George Will are nothing in comparison.
After Achilles storms out, Agamemnon decides to test his men. He expresses doubt about whether the gods are on the side of the Greeks after all; maybe it's time to give up and go home. He expects his men to shout "no!" but Agamemnon is in for a shock. The Greeks practically stampede each other in a rush to the ships.
By comparison, the president's current doldrums in the polls are minor. But his resources are less than Agamemnon's. The Greek king had the day saved by Odysseus (aka Ulysses), who represented a heroic triple-threat of cunning, eloquence, and prowess. Almost single-handedly the hero stems the tide of retreat.
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