At the end of the day, we are only humans, and our energy and skills will only take us so far. This means that we have limits.
The danger comes when we try to transcend those limits – this is when we are at risk of falling into a Pyrrhic victory. We lustily look at a shining reward, and while distracted we overextend, become exhausted and vulnerable.
Learn to recognize your limits and pick you battles carefully. Look carefully at those costs that are often hidden from view: the infuriated enemy bent on revenge; the political goodwill lost.
Understand that sometimes it is better to wait and undermine your enemy in a less confrontational way. And if a battle is inescapable, make sure the fight takes place where you want how you want it.
Make the war cheap for yourself and costly for your enemy; by fighting economically, you can outlast even the greatest adversary.
A Pyrrhic Victory
In 218 B.C., Rome became engaged in a war with Tarentum, a city on the east coast of Italy.
Tarentum had started life out as a colony of Sparta; they spoke Greek, and like the Greeks, they believed the other Italian city-states to be barbaric.
Rome at this time had not yet reached the heights of its later glories. But they were enough of an emerging power that their neighbors were becoming more and more worried.
The Romans were not exactly hasty to take on the Tarentines. Indeed, Tarentum was the wealthiest of the Italian states – wealthy enough to fund its allies in a war against the Romans.
However, they had insulted Rome’s honor. They had sunk their ships and when ambassadors were sent to Tarentum, they were haughtily turned back. So Rome readied itself for war.
This presented the Tarentines with a problem. Despite their wealth, they had no proper army.
Instead, someone else fighting on their behalf; the Spartans were busy, so they settled on the greatest Greek warrior-king since Alexander the Great himself, Pyrrhus of Epirus.
Epirus was a small kingdom in west-central Greece. It was a sparsely populated land with not much in terms of resources.
But Pyrrhus had been raised on the stories of Achilles (from whom he claimed descent) and his illustrious cousin Alexander. He had served in the armies of Alexander’s generals – men such as Ptolemy (who now ruled Egypt) – and soon carved out an empire for himself after returning to Epirus.
His army was small, but he trained it well; so well in fact that he even managed to beat the mighty Macedonians.
Pyrrhus’ reputation was rising, but he soon understood that it would be hard for a minnow like Epirus to compete with powerful rivals such as Macedonia, Athens, and Sparta.
Hence, Tarentum’s offer was extremely tempting; they were offering money and a large allied army.
With this, he could defeat the Romans, become master of Italy, move on to Sicily, and then onwards to Carthage. Alexander had moved east to forge his empire, he would go west and become master of the Mediterranean.
Pyrrhus accepted.
In the spring of 280 B.C., he arrived with the largest Greek army ever to go to Italy. It numbered 25,000 men and even came with twenty elephants.
Once he arrived, he realized he had been tricked. Not only did the Tarentines have no army, they had not even began to undergo the effort of assembling one.
Pyrrhus quickly declared a military dictatorship and began training an army from amongst the Tarentines themselves.
The Romans had heard of Pyrrhus’ reputation as a strategist and so quickly took the initiative. Forced to make do with what he had, Pyrrhus faced off against the Romans at Heraclea.
Outnumbered and outgunned, Pyrrhus was forced to unleash his secret weapons – his elephants. As expected, the Romans who had never seen these ferocious beasts before were soon in headlong retreat.
Pyrrhus had won a great victory, and his reputation soon reached every corner of the Italian peninsula. Yet he was worried, the Romans were tougher than any opponent he had met before and had impressed him with their discipline.
After thinking it over, he decided to sue for peace with the Romans and offered to share the peninsular.
Meanwhile, back in Rome, the defeat had registered a deep effect – but it was decided that they would not be intimidated. The Romans proudly rejected the offer and immediately sent out a call for new recruits.
And the young men responded in droves.
The two armies met in the spring of the next year in Asculum, a town not too far from Rome itself. The battle was fierce and yet again when the Romans seemed to have the edge, Pyrrhus unleashed a strategic and tactical masterclass which snatched away victory from the jaws of defeat.
Defeated, the Romans scattered again. For Pyrrhus, however, it was a bittersweet moment.
He had once again come out on top, but the losses had again also been terrible. Many important officers on which he depended had lost their lives and he himself had been severely wounded.
His forces were decimated, while the Romans seemed simply inexhaustible. When congratulated on Asculum, he infamously replied:
“If we defeat the Romans in one more such battle, we shall totally be ruined.”
Pyrrhus, however, would never get the chance. Seeing his remaining forces were too few to fight the Romans again, he left for home. His Italian campaign was over.
Analysis
From his lament at Asculum derives the famous expression “Pyrrhic victory” which alludes to a victory that might as well have been a defeat. So awful are the costs of a victory that the victor is unable to exploit it in any way and is left more vulnerable that if he had not engaged in the fight.
Indeed, after returning to Greece, his many rivals, sensing his weakness, inflicted upon him one disaster after another. This culminated in his untimely death in battle and an end to Epirus’ hopes of becoming a dominant power in Greece.
Pyrrhus could have avoided this tragedy. Simply gathering advance intelligence could have notified him of the discipline and power of the Romans as well as the dishonesty of the Tarentines. Had he done this he could have either taken longer to prepare or simply not have come in the first place.
Even at Heraclea, he could have left while he was ahead. The dream, though, was simply too alluring, and Pyrrhus could not stop himself.
He failed to look at the costs and assumed everything would straighten itself out eventually.
Such Pyrrhic victories are extremely common. A new venture starts and there is a natural optimism which surrounds it.
The goal and potential is simply too enticing – in the end we see more of what we want to see and less of the possible difficulties and stumbling blocks.
And the further in we go, the harder it becomes to turn back. In fact we are more likely to forge ahead as we believe that the only way the costs can be recovered is by some future success.
Hence, in such circumstances, the costs have a habit of not just growing but spiraling out of control. The more time passes, the more unforeseen problems we run into. Eventually, any success or victory we may have gained earlier becomes meaningless.
Here’s the thing: the more you want success, the more you need to compensate by thinking about the costs. And not merely the obvious costs, but the intangibles that are often overlooked.
What goodwill might be squandered by entering into this conflict, will winning infuriate the loser and push him to fight again and harder next time, the amount of time it will take, the debts to the those who aided you.
If this enterprise is not within your capabilities, you can always fight again next time when the costs are in line with your resources.
The dustbin of history is full of the names of people who failed to take into account the costs. The graves are full of people whose dreams were not in line with reality.
Better to save yourself the hassle of unnecessary battles and live to fight another day.
Footnotes & Further Reading
Greene, Robert. The 33 Strategies of War. Millionaire, 2006
