Ephialtes

“Above all, do not lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him or around him, and so he loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect, he ceases to love.” – Fyodor Dostoevsky

The hoplite was the heart of the ancient Greek fighting force. He was heavy infantry, armed with a lance and sword, and protected by a helmet, breastplate, and shin guards. In his left hand, he held a large round shield that covered both himself and his comrade beside him. Equipped with this shield, the ancient Greeks assumed a curious battle formation: the phalanx.

To achieve this formation, each hoplite stood shoulder to shoulder. Their shields overlapped, and their lances protruded toward the enemy. Essentially, they created a solid bronze wall behind a row of eight-foot-long pikes. This phalanx was nearly impenetrable for any attacking force with standard weapons.

When the Persians set foot on Hellenic soil in 480 BC, it was this phalanx that awaited them at Thermopylae. For days, the Persian ruler Xerxes failed to break through the ranks of spears and shields to continue his conquest of Greece. Had it not been for a man named Ephialtes, he likely would have spent many more days in despair and disbelief at the fortitude that the phalanx demonstrated.

But, as fate would have it, Ephialtes of Trachis would go down in history as the man who betrayed the West. In exchange for promises of power and riches, he revealed a secret mountain pass to Xerxes. As a result of this treason, Leonidas and his Spartiates were encircled and slaughtered.

While the phalanx could withstand the punishing blows dealt by the swords and spears of Xerxes, it crumbled at the betrayal by Ephialtes.

This story of war and betrayal has me thinking that the battle of Thermopylae is not just a historic event, but also a powerful image displaying the struggle that takes place within me. And it pains me to recognize that I see myself not only in the Greek force fending off the invaders, but also in their traitor, Ephialtes.

For, Ephialtes embodies something far more terrifying than fear and far more cunning than pride and envy. He represents that which is often unaccounted for.

Fear is like an icy wind coming from the north. It sends shivers down our spines, crippling the good, the selflessness within. The chilling winds of fear can feel all-consuming, but they can be overcome by the fires of courage.

Pride is like a tower built to reach the sky. The taller it grows, the deeper the foundation sets, until a ground of sand is compressed into seemingly unshakeable rock. The tower of pride gives the illusion of power, but it can be toppled by the gentle nudge of humility.

Envy is like a wave crashing upon the rocky shores. It admires the steadfastness of the coastline and, knowing that its mountains of water will never compare to cliffs made of stone, it resorts to wearing them down. The waves of envy wreak havoc, but they can be tamed by sincere gratitude.

There are many traits and qualities that I strive to banish from my heart. It seems that all of them – fear, pride, envy, etc. – have antidotes, even adversaries – courage, humility, gratitude, etc. – that stand battle-ready, waiting for my command to charge the enemy.

Even the infamous villain Deception meets his match in the embodiment of Truth.

The problem is that there seems to be one antihero whose power goes unmatched.

Upon the field of battle, which is my heart, this most notorious villain mocks my phalanx and laughs at the sharpness of my lance because it does not fight me head-on, as his comrades do. He does not attack me with sword and shield, as the Persians did the Greek defenders at the battle of Thermopylae.

This villain is my Ephialtes. He is the one who reveals a mountain pass to my enemies.

This villain is Self-Deception.

His arrows cannot pierce my shield … but he leads troops past my phalanx, and they stand behind me, arrows nocked, bows drawn. And I remain unaware.

Just as my shield blocks an attacker’s sword, courage fends off fear, and humility fights pride.

But the very nature of self-deception is that it is me turning on myself. Just as the Greek Ephialtes knew the layout of the land, I know the falsehoods I want to hear. I know the lies I will believe. I know the false truths I prefer over real ones.

I can be guarded, my shield held high, a bronze wall facing that which tries to conquer the virtues I value. But how can I guard against the lies I tell myself?

Is it not the nature of self-deception that once I resort to it, I have already chosen the comfort of lies over the truth? And once Ephialtes stands behind me, and his arrows pierce my back, do I not grow weak? Does my shield not drop; does my lance not fall to the ground? And then the villains, who crashed upon my phalanx time and time again, unable to pass my guard, stand before me as I fall to my knees.

It is then fear, pride, and envy that hold their swords to my throat, but it is self-deception that actually defeated me.

Honestly, I do not know how to guard against self-deception other than by remaining aware of Ephialtes within me and the mountain pass in my heart.

I think it is essential to value Truth above all else, while also recognizing that what I now know will change as my understanding grows. It is crucial to hold strong beliefs loosely to allow them room for growth. It is essential to constantly search for comforting lies that I am whispering to myself, so I can disarm them before their arrows are nocked and their bows drawn.

One thing remains certain, in my opinion: The hardiest phalanx of bronze shields can withstand any onslaught of lies, fear, envy, and pride, if it is equipped with the right weapons. But even this hardiest phalanx will crumble when this most notorious villain navigates secret mountain passes to attack from behind.

Stand guard.

Value Truth.

Expect Ephialtes.