Chapter 3, Section VI: Byzantine Diplomacy: Delay, Divide, and Survive
- john raymond
- Jul 7
- 3 min read

The Empire That Refused to Die
In a world where empires rose and fell through brute force, the Byzantine Empire thrived through something else entirely: strategic patience, manipulation, and survival by wit.
Though militarily weaker than its enemies for much of its existence, Byzantium endured for over a thousand years—not through conquest, but by mastering asymmetric diplomacy.
Their survival wasn’t an accident. It was the result of deliberate policies of deception, stalling, and exploitation of divisions among stronger neighbors. Where other empires wielded swords, the Byzantines wielded time.
Divide and Delay: The Twin Pillars of Byzantine Survival
Byzantine statecraft turned the cracks in the world into strategic wedges. One of their most potent tools was the divide-and-conquer strategy, where instead of facing multiple enemies at once, they pitted those enemies against each other.
When the Franks surged into the east during the Crusades, the Byzantines played them against the Muslim powers to the south. When the Bulgars threatened from the north, the Byzantines offered incentives to the Slavs or fostered tensions between them. Enemies were managed like pieces on a chessboard, each played off the other to buy Byzantium peace and breathing room.
Just as powerful was their use of delay. The Byzantines often negotiated endlessly, promised aid they had no intention of delivering, or signed treaties with escape clauses designed to break later.
The goal wasn’t to end conflict permanently—it was to push the danger into the future, to wait for enemies to grow tired, broke, or distracted. Sometimes they bribed their way out of sieges; other times they invited invaders in, only to betray them when it was most convenient.
Truth, in the Byzantine context, was less a virtue and more a strategic asset. They controlled internal narratives ruthlessly, manipulated their neighbors' perceptions, and planted false intelligence when it suited their needs. Their enemies often accused them of treachery, but treachery worked. It kept Constantinople standing long after Rome fell.
Putin: A Student of Byzantium
Vladimir Putin's Russia has revived these tactics with chilling efficiency. Where the West built alliances on transparency and shared values, Putin weaponized information and division. His disinformation campaigns didn’t just target elections—they targeted the very trust that holds alliances together.
From exploiting tensions within the European Union to amplifying culture wars in the United States, Putin has mimicked the Byzantine model of indirect warfare: do not attack the walls of the city, but convince the city to dismantle its own defenses.
Trump, in this strategy, became a godsend to him. Not as a witting conspirator in some Hollywood-style plot, but as a perfect asymmetrical weapon. His willing disdain for NATO, his attacks on American intelligence services, and his chaos-first style all served to jam the signal inside the Western alliance.
He didn’t need to believe in Putin’s cause—he only needed to serve him when it matters, and in doing so, disrupt the cohesion and clarity of the West’s response to authoritarian resurgence.
Bush: The One Who Set the Precedent
Yet it wasn’t Trump who first cracked the armor of Western unity. George W. Bush, with his "Coalition of the Willing," bypassed the United Nations and signaled to the world that America would go it alone.
Bush's unilateralism was seen not as strength, but arrogance. It fragmented international norms and set a dangerous precedent: the most powerful democracy in the world no longer needed consensus. That erosion of credibility laid fertile ground for Putin’s games.
Add to that the Bush-era abuses—torture, indefinite detention, and the cynical manipulation of truth—and you have a recipe for deep mistrust, not just among global allies, but within the American public. When Trump arrived, the system was already eroded; he simply exploited the hollowed-out shell.
The Strategic Lesson
The lesson of Byzantine diplomacy is not just about survival. It’s about perception as weaponry. The Byzantines knew that if you could control what others believed, you didn’t need to control what they did. You could wait. You could outlast. You could manipulate. In asymmetric warfare, that is often enough.
Today, the same tactics live on. Not in parchment scrolls or silk robes, but in memes, hacked emails, and alliances twisted into knots of suspicion. The West forgot the value of cohesion and the danger of misdirection.
Byzantium never did. Neither, it seems, has Putin.
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