In his gripping historical novel on the life and times of Alcibiades of Athens, Tides of War (2000), Steven Pressfield recounts a speech given by the Spartan general Lysander — one among many historical events that shaped the course of the outcome of the decades-long Peloponnesian war between Athens and Sparta.
In his address to the Spartan forces, Lysander (who is clearly a superb rhetorician) makes a distinction that has a tremendous impact on his soldiers. He contrasts “thrasytes” (boldness) with “andreia” (courage), ascribing the former to the Athenians (who are masters of sea warfare, which demands bold attack patterns) and the latter to the Spartans (the undisputed champions of infantry battle, which requires patient courage to hold one’s position and wait for the right moment to defend or advance). In the course of his speech he says the following:
“Boldness is impatient. Courage is long-suffering. Boldness cannot endure hardship or delay; it is ravenous, it must feed on victory or it dies …
“The bold man is prideful, brazen, ambitious. The brave man calm, God-fearing, steady. The bold man seeks to divide; he wants his own and will shoulder his brother aside to loot it. The brave man unites. He succours his fellow, knowing that what belongs to the commonwealth belongs to him as well. The bold man covets; he sues his neighbour in the law court, he intrigues, he dissembles. The brave man is content with his lot; he respects that portion the gods have granted and husbands it, comporting himself with humility as heaven’s steward …
“Courage is … the issue of selflessness, brotherhood, and love of freedom. Boldness, on the other hand, is spawned of defiance and disrespect; it is the bastard brat of irreverence and outlawry. Boldness honours two things only: novelty and success. It feeds on them and without them dies … Boldness produces hubris. Hubris calls forth nemesis. And nemesis brings boldness low.”
Needless to stress, the diction in this excerpt reflects the patriarchal values of ancient Greece (the bold man and so forth), but the distinction made by Lysander applies to both men and women. And it is as valid today as at any time in history. Sure, there are moments in one’s life when one has to act boldly, or the window of opportunity would pass, even for a courageous person, to accomplish something from which others may also benefit.
The point elaborated in this speech, however, concerns two irreconcilable ways of living. The first of these, associated with boldness, is not difficult to recognise in our society: it is the “lifestyle” of those who aspire to financial success above all else, or — if this does not come easily — at the very least to the outward appearance of material “success”, because they have been made to believe (largely by the mainstream media) that this is the only way to live a meaningful life. This manner of living amounts to the ambitious pursuit of an ever-eluding goal, that of fulfilment via the accumulation of objects that invariably belong to only one realm, namely that of consumer goods.
Many people have discovered the emptiness of such a one-dimensional form of existence, even if, among the very wealthy, there are those who possess the courage to surpass the fruits of their boldness in wealth creation and infuse their lives with a sense of meaning that cannot be measured in dollars.
Think of Richard Branson, for one, who displays the courage of a person unhampered by the kind of wealth that might, for a lesser person, function as a prison instead of a source of opportunity. Some may argue that Branson being one of the richest people in the world would, according to my argument here, automatically put him in the “boldness” category — after all, he is successful and has come up with a number of novel ventures. True, and yet — apart from his dazzling success in the business world — does his role, together with Peter Gabriel, in the initiation and funding of the group of leaders called The Elders (Nelson Mandela, Jimmy Carter, Mary Robinson, Kofi Annan and others, who will draw on their individual and collective wisdom and experience to resolve conflicts worldwide), as well as his involvement with various ecologically significant events, not set him apart from those who pursue success in an entirely self-centred way?
Branson was prominent in the first Picnic Green Challenge, an award competition for the best new “green initiative” in 2007, and earlier this year he brought together a number of influential people on his island to address urgent global problems such as climate change. This reflects that attribute linked to courage by the Spartan Lysander, namely concern for others and for the “commonwealth”.
To be sure, Branson is an extreme example of a complex personality who displays countervailing qualities ostensibly belonging to both categories, boldness and courage. Other personalities are less problematical in this respect. Mahatma Gandhi, for instance, was unequivocally a person of courage, as was Mother Teresa of Calcutta. The latter worked selflessly, tirelessly and patiently to succour the poor until her death in 1997, while Gandhi declined the opportunity to gain political power on the eve of India’s independence, electing instead to embark on a demanding pilgrimage of direct personal involvement dedicated to love and reconciliation between Hindus and Muslims.
Right here in South Africa, Nelson Mandela has been a paradigm of steady, unyielding courage, notably during his 27 years in prison. In accordance with Lysander’s characterisation of the brave man, he has united people by his example of forgiveness and acceptance of all the citizens of South Africa, regardless of race. These people are exemplars of courage as described by Pressfield’s Lysander — none of them set greater store by short-term success than by long-term commitment to a supreme value, be it the political freedom of a people, alleviating the plight of the poor, or using wealth for tackling what is among the most intractable of global problems, namely the deleterious effects of climate change, induced by human industrial and other activities.
Although courage is called for in all domains of life, including politics at a time when knives seem to be out for adversaries of all stripes, it is above all in the area of climate change where courage is increasingly called for on the part of the people of planet Earth. The time for abandoning the virtue of boldness, in so far as it drives the quest for short-term success, mainly in the economic arena, is rapidly approaching, and with it the urgency to embrace the courage to value what is ultimately life-promoting and beneficial for all living beings on Earth.
The time has come for nations to show their commitment to a truly sustainable environment by, for example, abandoning biologically harmful practices such as Canada’s current oil-from-bitumen (in sand) extraction drive in Alberta, which has increased greenhouse-gas emissions in the area massively over the past few months.
By constantly, uninterruptedly pushing against ecological limits, humans are guilty of a kind of hubris peculiar to the present era. As Lysander points out, unremitting boldness generates hubris, which, in turn, invites nemesis. And nemesis can assume an unexpected, unpredictable shape, one for which humans may not be prepared. One can only hope that the boldness-induced pursuit of “success” and increased wealth through incessant economic growth since the 1970s is not in the process of precipitating an as yet invisible, virtually irreversible process of environmental, and unavoidably also social, degradation.
Whether this is the case, or whether concerted action worldwide can still avert a global ecological disaster, it appears to me that humanity will need courage, not boldness, in the years to come.