Back in the Brexit years, the European Research Group of hard-line Conservative MPs christened themselves the “Spartans”. Perhaps they were drawn to the image of an elite warrior brotherhood, standing firm against overwhelming odds. Or perhaps they admired Sparta’s reputation as one of the most austere and uncompromising societies of the ancient world. Either way, they might have profited from a closer look at how Sparta’s story actually ended — and why.
Sparta guarded its citizenship with exceptional rigidity. Full political membership was reserved for those born to two Spartan parents, and even then only after passing through an unforgiving system of military training and communal discipline. Foreigners were periodically expelled under a policy known as xenelasia.
Over time, this inflexibility proved fatal. The number of full Spartan citizens declined dramatically, from roughly 8,000 around 480 BCE to perhaps little more than 1,000 a century later. Military losses played a part, as did growing inequality in land ownership, but the core problem was structural: citizenship was so restricted that the ruling class steadily withered. A society that defined itself by exclusion gradually deprived itself of resilience.
There is an uncomfortable parallel here for modern nations confronting demographic decline. Across much of Europe and East Asia, birth rates have fallen well below replacement level while populations age rapidly. Nationalists insist the answer lies in boosting native fertility. Yet the evidence suggests this is far easier said than done. Hungary, under Viktor Orbán, has devoted vast public resources to pro-natalist policies. While these measures may have shifted the timing of births, the overall fertility rate remains well below replacement. Even generous subsidies cannot easily reverse deep social and economic trends.