Troy: The Original Quagmire
The Trojan War is past, but also present
When both Homer’s poem and An Iliad begin, the Trojan War has been underway for nine long years with little progress. The Poet, who tells the story onstage, begins his tale near the end: soldiers are dying from plague, internal discord is rampant in the homesick troops, and the reason for fighting has long since been buried under the mountain of bodies. The war’s heroes chase glory in a deeply unheroic war in which nine years of struggle is a blur, with each side trading victories and defeats in equal, endless measure. It is a quagmire; there are few winners, and fewer exit strategies.
Wars such as the one in Troy cannot be quick. Without decisive victories, the war cannot end. This causes the conflict to spread outward, as the Greeks begin sacking towns in the surrounding area, hoping to cut off Troy’s supply line. It may also leads to an increasingly internal strife. The Greek soldiers, stuck far from home in a war whose cause they barely remember, turn on one another, fracturing the army and prolonging the war further. This perpetual war can also have the opposite effect, however, and make soldiers even more fiercely loyal to one another while suppressing their mercy for the enemy. Achilles’ grief and murderous rage when he finds out his friend has died is echoed in the words of a Vietnam veteran to American author Jonathan Shay:
“Every time you lost a friend it seemed like a part of you was gone. Get one of them to compensate what they had done to me. I got very hard, cold, merciless. I lost all my mercy.”
Since Troy, this long slog of war has been a constant feature of human history. Rome and Carthage fought for 80 years. The Nine Crusades all arose from the constant tug-of-war over the Holy Land. The Cold War was a 44-year standoff in which no battles were fought, but no real peace prevailed. Millions died during the 20-year stretch of the Vietnam War. And the longer the war, the more stuck the combatants are, for with each passing unproductive year, the idea of going home with nothing to show for it becomes unbearable. The quagmire is as much about pride, both personal and national, as anything else, and pride is nearly as hard to swallow as the rage that makes the fighting possible.
Ah but still — what a humiliation it would be to hold out so long, then sail home empty-handed. — The Iliad
The long quagmire of the Trojan War is reflected today in the United States’ continuing involvement in the Middle East. The Poet tells us his story at a time when our presence in Afghanistan — already the longest armed conflict in our nation’s history — stretches into its 15th year. This particular conflict is itself part of a continuous string dating back at least 40 years, as Russia, the Taliban, and the U.S. all struggled to mold the country into one that would best serve the conqueror. And in Iraq, we declared “Mission Accomplished” in 2003, but continued to fight until 2011, only to reenter the country in 2014. The enemy changes, fighting style becomes more freeform, and even seemingly simple objectives — bring Helen back to Greece, bring Saddam Hussein to justice — become secondary to the logistics of fighting the war, and then responsibly leaving it.
Stalemates like these, whether in ancient Greece or modern-day Afghanistan, are costly, deadly, and demoralizing. Our Poet has seen and sung them all.
Join us for An Iliad, onstage at Lantern Theater Company now through December 11. Visit our website for tickets and information.
