Any of you who read this blog know I can’t say enough good things about my favorite author, Steven Pressfield, and favorite podcaster, Dan Carlin. Today, however I’m reminded that they both have, separately and without any coordination, repeatedly highlighted the role of fear on the battlefield. Watching the news this morning it’s clear to see that fear continues to rule in many aspects of our lives, even shopping, of all things.
Both the esteemed gentlemen indicated above repeat an ancient Greek saying, “Phobos rules the battlefield.” Phobos was the Greek god of fear, the mythological son of Aphrodite and Ares, and he was said to have ridden into battle with his father alongside his aunts, goddess of war Enyo, and of discord Eris. Phobos was generally accompanied by his twin brother Deimos, the god of terror. Quite the family there! You can almost see the Jerry Springer episode unfolding.
Pressfield’s wonderful Thermopylae novel Gates of Fire (my all-time favorite work of historical fiction) brings the concept—the application of those Greek beliefs—to life. Everything the Spartans did to raise their children to be the perfect warriors, they did with the intent of making Phobos—fear—less potent within their ranks. As Carlin points out, surprisingly few men fell during the clash of spear on shield in a Greek battle. The casualties really added up when one side lost its nerve and fled. This is why so many ancient battles produced such lopsided casualty figures.
The Spartans taught their young men from day one in the barracks that their chances of surviving an engagement dropped exponentially if they turned tail and ran. That their duty was to stand firm until Phobos gripped the enemy and they ran. That the shield they held really protected the man to their left. That they were protected in turn by the shield of the man on their right. This is how the Spartans attempted to counterbalance the natural effects of fear and terror when an enemy charged, thrusting spear and sword with murderous intent. The Spartans, and most professional militaries since that time, have decided that discipline was the only reliable way to forestall panic.
While there are many definitions of that baggage-laden word, the one I like best is perhaps the simplest. Discipline is the ability to make yourself do something you don’t want to do. Thus, the soldier stands firm against the charging fury of the enemy, though every fiber of his being screams at him to flee. The sailor dodges enemy arrows as his ship is boarded, knowing that to release the tiller and swim to shore might mean his entire crew perishes as a result. The Marine clings to life below an enemy-held seawall, knowing that to stand up and flee means death by machine gun. You see, fear, Phobos, didn’t disappear with the emergence of modern weaponry and tactics. Yet we strive to harden our troops against the paralyzing effects of fear just so when Phobos comes knocking, he’s held at bay.
How then have our civilian populations become so vulnerable to the effects of fear, of terror? Why is it that rumor-mongering produces an unreasonable and, frankly, ugly response time and again? What is it that makes people go out and in one trip purchase enough toilet paper to handle the world’s biggest Indian food festival? Do they really think worldwide TP stocks are at risk? And if so, why…because of all the forests in China that are now quarantined? And how is it, with a new virus spurring Phobos on through the 24-hour news cycle, that people have decided that wiping their butts has suddenly become not just a priority but THE priority? Call me crazy, but I don’t understand. Maybe I’m just more innovative, but if I run out of TP I know we can all switch to corn cobs or pine cones…and I’m collecting the latter since they literally grow on trees! (Score!!!)
Very few people, it seems, are stopping to ask the much more important questions. Am I or my loved ones at risk? Important since COVID-19 bounces off the young and healthy like raindrops on a windshield. Are my family and I practicing good hygiene, washing hands, and generally keeping clean? Are the people I associate with most routinely taking those same precautions? These are rational questions, and the answers to them allow us to stand firm like that Spartan warrior in the phalanx, safe in the knowledge that the man to his left and right are ready like he is, allowing the whole unit—or community—the ability to stand against the crush. To resist the seductive whispering of Phobos inducing us to panic. To act rationally—in the middle of the chaos—in a way that can’t help but be noticed by others.
Throughout this or any other crisis, it’s important to remain calm, evaluate the situation, and act prudently. This is leadership. This is discipline. This is the rational mind winning out over irrational—or simply over-hyped—fear and panic. In a sense it’s Phobos, dejected and forlorn, heading home from the battlefield, having lost the fight. Throw something at him as he goes.
M. G. Haynes