Many centuries earlier, the Greek historian Thucydides had anticipated Fourmont’s predicament. In a famous thought experiment in the first book of his History of the Peloponnesian War, the great war between Athens and Sparta that occupied the final third of the fifth century BCE, he invited his reader to travel forward in time a number of centuries. What will the future make of Sparta, he asked, if they have only its physical remains to judge it by? How could a viewer imagine that Athens and Sparta were such great rivals based on the huge disparity in ruins? How could a group of such poor foundations compare to the majesty of the Parthenon?

Thucydides realised what the Abbé Fourmont did not: namely, that the greatness of Sparta rested not in the fabulous buildings that it constructed but in the stories that it generated. Its unique way of life and its egalitarian military ethos were the secrets of its strength. In The Spartans, Andrew J. Bayliss assiduously gathers all the various stories told about Sparta and weaves them together to produce an introduction to the various communities that made up the State. We are presented in turn to the male citizens, the youths, the women, and the helot slaves; the last group particularly important because it was their labour that made Spartan society possible. Along the way, Bayliss provides evidence to support a number of myths, and shatters quite a few of them. The Spartans, famously men of few words (hence the term ‘laconic’ from Laconia), would admire the brevity of this book. The prose is lean and utilitarian. No room for poetry here. It provides a most accessible summary of the current state of scholarship on Sparta.

The book opens its analysis with a description of the Spartan government. The form of governance that developed in Sparta was unique. Far earlier than almost any other place in the Greek world, Sparta systematically addressed the challenges of the gap between rich and poor, mass and élite. Spartans placed restrictions on the power of their kings, created an assembly for citizens, and put in place checks and balances to stop the creep of élite power.

One term for Spartan citizens was ‘homoioi’ (‘the equals’). Athens may have perfected democracy, but Sparta wins the prize for being the earliest adopter. These early constitutional reforms spared Sparta the internal revolutions and coups and counter-coups that tore apart so many other Greek city-states. They also ensured that there has been no end of admirers of the Spartan constitution. Bayliss cites Thomas Jefferson’s and Alexander Hamilton’s disparaging remarks about Sparta as ‘military monks’ and ‘little better than a well-regulated camp’, but fails to point out that there were also enthusiastic fans of Sparta and its system of government among the Founding Fathers.

Another reason for the lack of political discord in Sparta was its highly organised educational system, which was designed to produce well-trained, obedient citizens. Again, the same egalitarian spirit is at play. Aristotle praised Sparta because the sons of rich and poor were raised in an identical fashion. Bayliss takes us through the various stages of schooling at Sparta, beginning at the age of seven when young men were removed from their families and placed into groups, possibly called ‘herds’. The account does not shy away from the violence and brutal privations that attended much of this educational system. (It is easy to allow these elements to overly colour the picture.) The educational system also allowed plenty of time for athletics, singing, dancing, and complex ball games. A number of foreigners outside Sparta were so impressed by the system that they even sent their children to be educated in the ‘Spartan Way’. All of the evidence suggests they did this out of love rather than as a unique form of child punishment.

The other area in which attitudes and behaviour in Sparta differed markedly from the rest of Greece was in relation to women. Bayliss’s chapter on women is a great read. Aristotle declared that Sparta was effectively a gynaecocracy, a state ruled by women. While Bayliss shows that this was a gross exaggeration, he also points out the tremendous influence that women enjoyed and the way in which they were not afraid to call out men for their bad behaviour. No mother could embarrass their son like a Spartan mother. The image of the woman who hitched up her skirts and asked her cowardly son if he wanted to crawl back into her womb is particularly memorable.

The tremendous success of Zack Snyder’s film 300 (2006) about the Spartan King Leonidas and his heroic stand at Thermopylae shows that interest in Sparta never wanes. The film is a travesty of history, a hyper-masculine example of Spartan myth-making in action. Leonidas strides through the film barking orders and checking off Spartan stereotypes. Throughout this book, Bayliss never shouts. Yet, in his quiet, succinct way, he has produced a book that can with some justice claim, ‘This is Sparta.’