Epictetus on Friendship 7

. . . It was through this ignorance that the Athenians and the Spartans quarreled, and the Thebans with both; and the Great King quarreled with the Greeks, and the Macedonians with both; and the Romans with the Thracians. And still earlier the Trojan War happened for these reasons.

Paris was the guest of Menelaus; and if any man had seen their friendly disposition, he would not have believed anyone who said that they were not friends. But there was cast between them a bit of meat, a handsome woman, and about her war arose.

And now when you see brothers to be friends appearing to have one mind, do not conclude from this anything about their friendship, not even if they say it and swear that it is impossible for them to be separated from one another.

For the ruling principle of a bad man cannot be trusted, it is insecure, has no certain rule by which it is directed, and is overpowered at different times by different appearances. . . .

—Epictetus, Discourses 2.22, tr Long

I always loved the study of history, and I still do, but I learned I was not cut out to be a scholar of history long before I learned I was not cut out to be a scholar of philosophy. This was because I always questioned the accepted causes. Philosophers can get away with that for a little bit longer, at least until they are trying to find work.

I was once told, for example, that there were six causes for the American Civil War. I also recall five causes for the English Civil War, three for the Thirty Years War, and a whopping nine for World War II.

Now such an account of the conditions for war is indeed worthy, but here we are perhaps confusing material and final causes. Wars are started by all sorts of people, and under all different sorts of circumstances, but in the end they happen because of the end or purpose, the final cause, that people have in mind. They believe that their own good is opposed to the good of others.

I remember not being terribly impressed with the Iliad or the story of the Trojan War when it was first presented to me. It all seemed like an overly complex soap opera. And then I began to think about why the players acted as they did, and the narrative became one that informs not only my thinking, but also my daily life. It’s all about the triumph of selfishness over friendship.

Three goddesses bicker over their vanity. Paris betrays his friend for lust. Agamemnon and Menelaus retaliate in anger. Hector and Achilles both fight for their own versions of pride. All of it ended with deception, and no one is the victor.

Change the names, and we have the blueprint for all of human conflict, from the smallest to the largest scale. At the root lies the most simple, yet most destructive, of judgments. What is good for me is not what is good for you.

It took me a long time to learn that the appearance of agreement is not a necessary indicator of friendship. As soon as the circumstances change, and the appearances alter desire, that agreement often dissolves into opposition. It took me even longer not to be cynical about this fact. I finally realized that the cure was in the cause, in the recognition that a true friend sees the other as a second self, and therefore cannot conceive of there being a difference between mine and yours. 

Written on 2/2002

Image: Hermann Kern, "Good Friends" (1904)