The dawn of 2026 has brought with it a bracing chill that has nothing to do with the winter season and everything to do with the “cold logic” of power. As we navigate the complexities of a fragmented global economy, it is impossible to ignore the echoes of Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War and the Melian Dialogue resonating through the halls of the State Department and the corridors of the Pentagon.
At PKF, we often look at the bottom line. But in international relations, the “bottom line” isn’t always a fiscal surplus but the raw preservation of hegemony. Today, as Washington eyes the oil-rich plains of Venezuela and the strategic, ice-thinned shores of Greenland, the 2,400-year-old debate between Athens and Melos has never felt more contemporary.
The Athenian precedent: might as the only metric
While we wait for Christopher Nolan’s highly anticipated film, “The Odyssey”, scheduled to be released in theaters in July, let us remind ourselves of the Melian Dialogue that dramatizes a 416 BCE encounter between Athens, a superpower at that time and a small, neutral island of Melos. The Athenians famously declared: “The strong do what they can, and the weak suffer what they must.”
Athens viewed Melian neutrality not as a peaceful choice, but as a direct challenge to their authority. To let a small player remain independent was, in their eyes, a sign of weakness that would invite rebellion across their empire. They dismissed “justice” as an expensive commodity and “hope” as a ruinous delusion.
When the Melians refused to bow, clinging to the hope of Spartan intervention and the moral high ground, the result was the “Melian Hunger”, a brutal siege ending in the execution of all adult males and the enslavement of the women and children.
The new frontiers of realism
Fast forward to our current 2026 landscape. The United States, facing a multipolar world where the “Delian League” of Western alliances is being tested, finds itself in multiple “Melian” scenarios: Venezuela, Greenland and one might add Cuba to the mix.
For years, US policy toward Caracas was draped in the language of “idealism”, supporting democratic transitions and human rights. However, by early 2026, the dynamic has shifted. With global energy markets influx and the need to decouple from adversarial supply chains, Washington’s approach to the Maduro administration has taken a distinctly Athenian turn.
The dialogue now is about stability and access. Realism dictates that a “neutral” or hostile Venezuela, sitting on the world’s largest oil reserves and burgeoning mineral wealth, is a luxury the US can no longer afford to tolerate. We see the “Athenian” logic at play: it is not about whether the regime is just, but whether its alignment (or lack thereof), weakens the American sphere of influence. The pressure to “join the league” is no longer just about sanctions. It’s about a cold, calculated reintegration into the Western orbit on Washington’s terms.
If Venezuela is about the resources of the earth, Greenland is about the geography of the future. As the Arctic ice retreats, Greenland has ceased to be an autonomous frozen outpost and has become the ultimate “Melian” island.
In 2026, the US interest in Greenland is no longer a “real estate” curiosity, it is a strategic necessity. Realism tells us that in a world of hypersonic threats and Arctic shipping routes, “neutrality” in the North Atlantic is a myth. Washington views Greenland through the same lens Athens viewed Melos: if the US does not project power there, its rivals will. The dialogue with Denmark and the Greenlandic government is increasingly stripped of platitudes, focusing instead on the “Natural Law” of security – the stronger power must secure its perimeter.
From forced alignment to strategic autonomy
When we hold the mirror of 416 BCE up to the current 2026 landscape, the primary objectives of the superpower have evolved in form, if not in spirit. While Athens sought the forced alignment of Melos to prevent a perception of weakness among its subjects, the United States today prioritizes strategic autonomy and the aggressive securing of resources. In the Athenian view, neutrality was a virus, a sign of fragility that could spark rebellion across the Aegean. In the modern “Neo-Realist” framework of Washington, neutrality is viewed less as a challenge to authority and more as a dangerous security vacuum. Whether in the Arctic reaches of Greenland or the oil-rich basins of Venezuela, a “neutral” space is seen as an invitation for adversarial influence, compelling a proactive American footprint to fill the void before a rival can.
Perhaps the most poignant shift lies in the nature of “hope” and the resulting outcomes for the weaker state. The Melians banked their survival on the whims of fortune, hopes that the Athenians correctly dismissed as “expensive commodities”. Today, small states rely on the fragile shield of International Law and multilateral protections to safeguard their sovereignty. However, the philosophy remains anchored in the belief that security is found through dominance. While the ancient outcome for a defiant Melos was total destruction and colonization, the 2026 toolkit is more nuanced but equally pervasive. Instead of “Melian Hunger” and the sword, the modern weak face forced economic integration or a state of “managed instability,” where survival is granted only as long as it serves the strategic equilibrium of the hegemon.
A warning for Washington
While the Athenian logic is efficient, Thucydides didn’t record the dialogue to praise it. He included it to highlight hubris. Shortly after the massacre at Melos, Athens launched the disastrous Sicilian Expedition, a move of overextended pride that ultimately led to their total defeat in the Peloponnesian War.
The 2026 realist approach has its own risks. By treating Venezuela as a gas station and Greenland as a stationary aircraft carrier, the US risks the “Melian” backlash. When a superpower abandons the “principle of justice for all” as the Melians argued, it loses the moral authority that makes leadership sustainable.
As we navigate the rest of 2026, the lesson for US policymakers is clear: Realism is a tool for survival, but it should not be a suicide pact. The Melians were naive to rely on “hope” and “fortune,” but the Athenians were blind to the resentment their cruelty would sow. Today, whether it is negotiating mineral rights in Nuuk or oil concessions in Caracas, the US must remember that the “strong” are only strong as long as the system they lead is perceived as better than the alternative. Might may “make right” in the short term, but justice is the only thing that makes a hegemony endure.
Dr. Ovidiu Mircea Tierean is Senior Advisor, PKF Malta