Latest news with #HistoryofthePeloponnesianWar
Yahoo
29-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
Disinformation and other forms of ‘sharp power' now sit alongside the ‘hard power' of tanks and ‘soft power' of ideas in policy handbook
'The strong do what they will, the weak suffer what they must.' So wrote Thucydides in the 'History of the Peloponnesian War,' and the Greek historian's cold-eyed observation still holds. But in today's world, strength doesn't always present itself in the form of armies or aircraft carriers. The means by which power manifests has expanded, growing more subtle, more layered and often more dangerous. As a result, it's no longer enough to talk about power in purely military or economic terms. Rather, we need to distinguish between three overlapping but distinct forms of power: hard, soft and sharp. These three concepts of power are more than just academic abstractions. They are real-world tools to, respectively, coerce, attract and manipulate the people and governments of other nations. They are used by governments to shape the choices of others. Sometimes they operate in concert; often, however, they collide. Hard power is likely the most familiar of the three powers – and the one relied on by nations for much of history. It refers to the ability to coerce through force or economic pressure. It's the stuff of tanks, sanctions, warships and threats. When Russia bombs Kyiv, when the United States sends aircraft carriers through the Taiwan Strait or when China uses trade restrictions to punish foreign governments, that's hard power in action. Hard power doesn't ask. It demands. But coercion alone rarely brings lasting influence. That's where soft power comes in. The concept, popularized by American political scientist Joseph Nye, refers to the ability to attract rather than compel. It's about credibility, legitimacy and cultural appeal. Think of the global prestige of American universities, the enduring reach of English-language media or the aspirational pull of Western legal and political norms – and Western culture, too. Soft power persuades by offering a model others want to emulate. Yet in today's climate, soft power is losing ground. It depends on moral authority, and that authority is increasingly in doubt for governments around the world that previously leaned into soft power. The United States, still a cultural juggernaut, exports polarization and political instability alongside prestige television and tech innovation. China's efforts to cultivate soft power through Confucius Institutes and diplomatic charm offensives are consistently undermined by its authoritarian reflexes. The values once seen as attractive are now viewed, fairly or not, as hypocritical or hollow. This has opened the gap for the third concept: sharp power. Sharp power operates as the dark mirror of soft power. Coined by the National Endowment for Democracy in 2017, it describes how authoritarian states in particular, but not excusively, exploit the openness of democracies to manipulate them from within. Sharp power doesn't coerce, it doesn't attract … it deceives. It relies on disinformation, covert influence, cyberattacks and strategic corruption. And it doesn't want your admiration – it wants your confusion, your division and your doubt. This is the domain of Russian election interference, Chinese control of social media algorithms and the covert influence operations the U.S. engages against China. Sharp power is about shaping narratives in foreign societies without ever firing a shot or closing a trade deal. And unlike hard power, it often goes unnoticed – until the damage is done. What makes today's diplomatic landscape so difficult is that these forms of power aren't cleanly separated. They bleed into one another. China's Belt and Road Initiative combines hard-power leverage with soft-power branding and is quietly backed by sharp power tactics that pressure critics and silence dissent. Russia, lacking the economic heft or cultural appeal of the U.S. or China, has mastered sharp power out of necessity, using it to destabilize, distract and divide. For liberal democracies, this creates a profound strategic dilemma. They still enjoy hard-power dominance and residual soft-power appeal. But they are vulnerable to sharp power – and increasingly tempted to use it themselves. The risk is that in trying to fight manipulation with manipulation, they hollow out their own institutions and values. This article is part of a series explaining foreign policy terms commonly used but rarely explained. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Andrew Latham, Macalester College Read more: The Thucydides Trap: Vital lessons from ancient Greece for China and the US … or a load of old claptrap? What is isolationism? The history and politics of an often-maligned foreign policy concept What is a 'revisionist' state, and what are they trying to revise? Andrew Latham does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Asia Times
16-04-2025
- Politics
- Asia Times
Are US and China really in a Thucydides Trap?
The so-called Thucydides Trap has become a staple of foreign policy commentary over the past decade or so, regularly invoked to frame the escalating rivalry between the United States and China. Coined by political scientist Graham Allison — first in a 2012 Financial Times article and later developed in his 2017 book 'Destined for War' — the phrase refers to a line from the ancient Greek historian Thucydides, who wrote in his 'History of the Peloponnesian War,' 'It was the rise of Athens and the fear that this instilled in Sparta that made war inevitable.' At first glance, this provides a compelling and conveniently packaged analogy: Rising powers provoke anxiety in established ones, leading to conflict. In today's context, the implication seems clear – China's rise is bound to provoke a collision with the United States, just as Athens once did with Sparta. But this framing risks flattening the complexity of Thucydides' work and distorting its deeper philosophical message. Thucydides wasn't articulating a deterministic law of geopolitics. He was writing a tragedy. Thucydides fought in the Peloponnesian War on the Athenian side. His world was steeped in the sensibilities of Greek tragedy, and his historical narrative carries that imprint throughout. His work is not a treatise on structural inevitability but an exploration of how human frailty, political misjudgment and moral decay can combine to unleash catastrophe. That tragic sensibility matters. Where modern analysts often search for predictive patterns and system-level explanations, Thucydides drew attention to the role of choice, perception and emotion. His history is filled with the corrosive effects of fear, the seductions of ambition, the failures of leadership and the tragic unraveling of judgment. This is a study in hubris and nemesis, not structural determinism. Much of this is lost when the phrase 'Thucydides Trap' is elevated into a kind of quasi-law of international politics. It becomes shorthand for inevitability: power rises, fear responds, war follows. But Thucydides himself was more interested in why fear takes hold, how ambition twists judgment and how leaders — trapped in a narrowing corridor of bad options — convince themselves that war is the only viable path left. His narrative shows how conflict often arises not from necessity, but from misreading, miscalculation and passions unmoored from reason. Even Allison, to his credit, never claimed the 'trap' was inescapable. His core argument was that war is likely but not inevitable when a rising power challenges a dominant one. In fact, much of Allison's writing serves as a warning to break from the pattern, not to resign oneself to it. Traditional Russian wooden dolls depict China's President Xi Jinping and U.S. President Donald Trump. Photo: Dmitri Lovetsky / AP via The Conversation In that sense, the 'Thucydides Trap' has been misused by commentators and policymakers alike. Some treat it as confirmation that war is baked into the structure of power transitions — an excuse to raise defense budgets or to talk tough with Beijing — when in fact, it ought to provoke reflection and restraint. To read Thucydides carefully is to see that the Peloponnesian War was not solely about a shifting balance of power. It was also about pride, misjudgment and the failure to lead wisely. Consider his famous observation, 'Ignorance is bold and knowledge reserved.' This isn't a structural insight — it's a human one. It's aimed squarely at those who mistake impulse for strategy and swagger for strength. Or take his chilling formulation, 'The strong do what they will and the weak suffer what they must.' That's not an endorsement of realpolitik. It's a tragic lament on what happens when power becomes unaccountable and justice is cast aside. Seen in this light, the real lesson of Thucydides is not that war is preordained, but that it becomes more likely when nations allow fear to cloud reason, when leaders mistake posturing for prudence and when strategic decisions are driven by insecurity rather than clarity. Thucydides reminds us how easily perception curdles into misperception — and how dangerous it is when leaders, convinced of their own virtue or necessity, stop listening to anyone who disagrees. It ain't necessarily so. Photo: Dan Kitwood / Getty Images via The Conversation In today's context, invoking the Thucydides Trap as a justification for confrontation with China may do more harm than good. It reinforces the notion that conflict is already on the rails and cannot be stopped. But if there is a lesson in 'The History of the Peloponnesian War,' it is not that war is inevitable but that it becomes likely when the space for prudence and reflection collapses under the weight of fear and pride. Thucydides offers not a theory of international politics but a warning — an admonition to leaders who, gripped by their own narratives, drive their nations over a cliff. Avoiding that fate requires better judgment. And above all, it demands the humility to recognize that the future is not determined by structural pressures alone but by the choices people make. Andrew Latham is professor of political science, Macalester College This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Yahoo
15-04-2025
- Politics
- Yahoo
The Thucydides Trap: Vital lessons from ancient Greece for China and the US … or a load of old claptrap?
The so-called Thucydides Trap has become a staple of foreign policy commentary over the past decade or so, regularly invoked to frame the escalating rivalry between the United States and China. Coined by political scientist Graham Allison — first in a 2012 Financial Times article and later developed in his 2017 book 'Destined for War' — the phrase refers to a line from the ancient Greek historian Thucydides, who wrote in his 'History of the Peloponnesian War,' 'It was the rise of Athens and the fear that this instilled in Sparta that made war inevitable.' At first glance, this provides a compelling and conveniently packaged analogy: Rising powers provoke anxiety in established ones, leading to conflict. In today's context, the implication seems clear – China's rise is bound to provoke a collision with the United States, just as Athens once did with Sparta. But this framing risks flattening the complexity of Thucydides' work and distorting its deeper philosophical message. Thucydides wasn't articulating a deterministic law of geopolitics. He was writing a tragedy. Thucydides fought in the Peloponnesian War on the Athenian side. His world was steeped in the sensibilities of Greek tragedy, and his historical narrative carries that imprint throughout. His work is not a treatise on structural inevitability but an exploration of how human frailty, political misjudgment and moral decay can combine to unleash catastrophe. That tragic sensibility matters. Where modern analysts often search for predictive patterns and system-level explanations, Thucydides drew attention to the role of choice, perception and emotion. His history is filled with the corrosive effects of fear, the seductions of ambition, the failures of leadership and the tragic unraveling of judgment. This is a study in hubris and nemesis, not structural determinism. Much of this is lost when the phrase 'Thucydides Trap' is elevated into a kind of quasi-law of international politics. It becomes shorthand for inevitability: power rises, fear responds, war follows. But Thucydides himself was more interested in why fear takes hold, how ambition twists judgment and how leaders — trapped in a narrowing corridor of bad options — convince themselves that war is the only viable path left. His narrative shows how conflict often arises not from necessity, but from misreading, miscalculation and passions unmoored from reason. Even Allison, to his credit, never claimed the 'trap' was inescapable. His core argument was that war is likely but not inevitable when a rising power challenges a dominant one. In fact, much of Allison's writing serves as a warning to break from the pattern, not to resign oneself to it. In that sense, the 'Thucydides Trap' has been misused by commentators and policymakers alike. Some treat it as confirmation that war is baked into the structure of power transitions — an excuse to raise defense budgets or to talk tough with Beijing — when in fact it ought to provoke reflection and restraint. To read Thucydides carefully is to see that the Peloponnesian War was not solely about a shifting balance of power. It was also about pride, misjudgment and the failure to lead wisely. Consider his famous observation, 'Ignorance is bold and knowledge reserved.' This isn't a structural insight — it's a human one. It's aimed squarely at those who mistake impulse for strategy and swagger for strength. Or take his chilling formulation, 'The strong do what they will and the weak suffer what they must.' That's not an endorsement of realpolitik. It's a tragic lament on what happens when power becomes unaccountable and justice is cast aside. Seen in this light, the real lesson of Thucydides is not that war is preordained, but that it becomes more likely when nations allow fear to cloud reason, when leaders mistake posturing for prudence and when strategic decisions are driven by insecurity rather than clarity. Thucydides reminds us how easily perception curdles into misperception — and how dangerous it is when leaders, convinced of their own virtue or necessity, stop listening to anyone who disagrees. In today's context, invoking the Thucydides Trap as a justification for confrontation with China may do more harm than good. It reinforces the notion that conflict is already on the rails and cannot be stopped. But if there is a lesson in 'The History of the Peloponnesian War,' it is not that war is inevitable but that it becomes likely when the space for prudence and reflection collapses under the weight of fear and pride. Thucydides offers not a theory of international politics, but a warning — an admonition to leaders who, gripped by their own narratives, drive their nations over a cliff. Avoiding that fate requires better judgment. And above all, it demands the humility to recognize that the future is not determined by structural pressures alone, but by the choices people make. This article is part of a series explaining foreign policy terms commonly used, but rarely explained. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organization bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Andrew Latham, Macalester College Read more: In trade war with the US, China holds a lot more cards than Trump may think − in fact, it might have a winning hand What is a 'revisionist' state, and what are they trying to revise? What the spiralling trade war means for relations between the US and China Andrew Latham does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Washington Post
14-04-2025
- Politics
- Washington Post
Can a trade war lead to a shooting war? Trump and Xi, take note: Yes.
In 2014, eminent political scientist Graham Allison published an influential book called 'Destined for War: Can America and China Escape Thucydides's Trap?' The subtitle referred to a famous passage in Thucydides' 'History of the Peloponnesian War': 'It was the rise of Athens, and the fear that this inspired in Sparta, that made war inevitable.'
Chicago Tribune
06-03-2025
- Politics
- Chicago Tribune
Shadi Bartsch: The age-old debate behind the war in Ukraine
As Ukraine's president, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, listened in increasing dismay to President Donald Trump's display of global whataboutism at the Oval Office on Feb. 28, it was clear he had not braced himself for the United States' foreign policy shift from self-professed global watchdog over the values of democracy and liberalism to hard-line international pragmatism. Zelenskyy's appeals — the few he was allowed to voice — were to principles of fairness and justice backed up by ideals: The strong should not invade the weak at will. The innocent should not die. Allies should not be suddenly judged on the criterion of: 'What's in it for us?' And victims, of course, should not be held up as aggressors. Who's surprised? It's an age-old debate. The political historian Thucydides anticipated the Trump-Zelenskyy conversation in detail in his 'History of the Peloponnesian War,' in which the islanders of Melos make a case for their freedom to Athens, which wants from them only surrender and tribute. The Melians have shown no aggression, but the Athenians need to build their empire up against Sparta. The context may be different, but the issue faced by the ancient Melian delegation is the same as that faced by Zelenskyy: How do you compel a more powerful body to observe what you, the weaker state, call the laws of justice, or fairness, or loyalty? Thucydides had his Melians try every argument a nation could. There is the argument from utility: It is more useful for you to treat us justly, lest others rebel against you. There is the argument from morality: The gods will punish you for these bad deeds. There is the golden rule: We have done nothing to you, so why do you turn on us? There is the argument from logic: The outcome of war is always uncertain, so why take this risk? There's the mention of allies. There's the argument Zelenskyy hinted at: Our enemy will come for you next. For each argument, the Athenians had an answer. Others will fear us, not rebel against us. The gods are fickle. A show of strength is necessary. Where are your allies now, Melians? And your odds of winning are miniscule. Don't be fools. Swallow your pride. Become a satellite state and pay tribute, or we will wipe you out. As Trump told Zelenskyy, 'You don't have the cards.' The Melians, cards or no cards, refused to give in. When the Athenians inevitably took over the island, they executed all the men and enslaved the women, then resettled the island with 500 Athenians. The U.S. is not at war with Ukraine, even if in allying ourselves with Russian President Vladimir Putin on this issue, we have become proxies for his worldview. Still, in both cases, we see the working of stark realpolitik pitted against a world that the West thought would last longer but is already starting to crumble — the world of mutually agreed-upon rules of behavior, of the post-World War II U.S., of the idealistic presence of the United Nations. The horrors of WWII were apparently enough to give us a 75-year boost in such beliefs. But that time is over, and we are back to the cruelties and injustices so visible in history — both ancient and modern. Can realpolitik ever be a winner? The answer is yes. But only temporarily. Nations rise and fall. Classical Athens would be surprised to see where she stands these days in the world order. Her gift to the rest of us was not a pile of dead Melians, but the historian who showed us that justice is not a utility, but a luxury of civilized nations. It is costly to maintain. It brings no reward except itself. It can be warped. And yet some nations — like the Melians — will perish for the principle. Will the Ukrainians? It remains to be seen.
