Yesterday, I was on “Judging Freedom” with Judge Napolitano to discuss America’s state of permanent war and the fantasy of our leaders that America remains the world’s hegemon:
America had its hegemonic moment in 1991 with the collapse of the Soviet Union. For a decade, Pentagon spending was curbed and the Clinton administration produced budgetary surpluses at the tail end of the 1990s. (With U.S. national debt soaring above $40 trillion this year, those budgetary surpluses seem fantastical, a unicorn and rainbow moment.)
How did America throw away its moment of triumph? Hegemonic vainglory was one reason. Mistaking military might for being morally in the right was another. Seeking vengeance after 9/11 in 2001 by declaring an unbounded “war on terror” globally was a third. Meanwhile, no matter how poorly wars went in Afghanistan, Iraq, and now Iran, and no matter how wasteful the Pentagon proved to be in that war (eight failed audits and counting), no one was held accountable for lost wars, wasteful spending and wanton corruption. In fact, those who were punished were patriotic whistleblowers who tried to shed light on what became a massive system of theft from American citizens.
That said, let us not forget all those on the receiving end of U.S. military power—all those killed, maimed, and displaced by America’s state of permanent war across the globe.
And let us not forget as well that U.S. security doesn’t come from vast “investments” in wars and weapons—quite the reverse. Our security comes from the exercise of our constitutional rights and freedoms, our collective wisdom, our willingness to stand for what is right and true.
War isn’t security. War certainly isn’t peace. And a state of permanent war isn’t healthy; in fact, it’s the most insidious threat we face to our way of life, if by “way of life” we mean a people committed to liberty and justice for all, especially the weak and the vulnerable.
Yet more U.S. and Israeli attacks on Iran may be imminent, which is truly a sad manifestation of America’s state of permanent war and its normalization of violence. Sadly, it’s an old topic for me, as a reader recently referenced an essay I wrote for TomDispatch back in 2015: “War is the new normal.”
Here in America, military marches have become the elevator muzak to our lives. When we’re not at war with Iraq or Afghanistan or Iran or even with an abstract concept like “terror,” we’re making trillion-dollar preparations for the same. What is abnormal, even aberrant, in America today is serious efforts at peace. Peace consistently makes the news only when Donald Trump complains about his failure to win a Nobel Peace Prize.
Here’s my essay from 2015, more relevant now than ever.
It was launched immediately after the 9/11 attacks, when I was still in the military, and almost immediately became known as the Global War on Terror, or GWOT. Pentagon insiders called it “the long war,” an open-ended, perhaps unending, conflict against nations and terror networks mainly of a radical Islamist bent. It saw the revival of counterinsurgency doctrine, buried in the aftermath of defeat in Vietnam, and a reinterpretation of that disaster as well. Over the years, its chief characteristic became ever clearer: a “Groundhog Day” kind of repetition. Just when you thought it was over (Iraq, Afghanistan), just after victory (of a sort) was declared, it began again.
Now, as we find ourselves enmeshed in Iraq War 3.0, what better way to memorialize the post-9/11 American way of war than through repetition. Back in July 2010, I wrote an article for TomDispatch on the seven reasons why America can’t stop making war. More than four years later, with the war on terror still ongoing, with the mission eternally unaccomplished, here’s a fresh take on the top seven reasons why never-ending war is the new normal in America. In this sequel, I make only one promise: no declarations of victory (and mark it on your calendars, I’m planning to be back with seven new reasons in 2019).
1. The privatization of war: The U.S. military’s recourse to private contractors has strengthened the profit motive for war-making and prolonged wars as well. Unlike the citizen-soldiers of past eras, the mobilized warrior corporations of America’s new mercenary moment — the Halliburton/KBRs (nearly $40 billion in contracts for the Iraq War alone), the DynCorps ($4.1 billion to train 150,000 Iraqi police), and the Blackwater/Xe/Academis ($1.3 billion in Iraq, along with boatloads of controversy) — have no incentive to demobilize. Like most corporations, their business model is based on profit through growth, and growth is most rapid when wars and preparations for more of them are the favored options in Washington.
“Freedom isn’t free,” as a popular conservative bumper sticker puts it, and neither is war. My father liked the saying, “He who pays the piper calls the tune,” and today’s mercenary corporations have been calling for a lot of military marches piping in $138 billion in contracts for Iraq alone, according to the Financial Times. And if you think that the privatization of war must at least reduce government waste, think again: the Commission on Wartime Contracting in Iraq and Afghanistan estimated in 2011 that fraud, waste, and abuse accounted for up to $60 billion of the money spent in Iraq alone.
To corral American-style war, the mercenaries must be defanged or deflated. European rulers learned this the hard way during the Thirty Years’ War of the seventeenth century. At that time, powerful mercenary captains like Albrecht von Wallenstein ran amok. Only Wallenstein’s assassination and the assertion of near absolutist powers by monarchs bent on curbing war before they went bankrupt finally brought the mercenaries to heel, a victory as hard won as it was essential to Europe’s survival and eventual expansion. (Europeans then exported their wars to foreign shores, but that’s another story.)
2. The embrace of the national security state by both major parties: Jimmy Carter was the last president to attempt to exercise any kind of control over the national security state. A former Navy nuclear engineer who had served under the demanding Admiral Hyman Rickover, Carter cancelled the B-1 bomber and fought for a U.S. foreign policy based on human rights. Widely pilloried for talking about nuclear war with his young daughter Amy, Carter was further attacked for being “weak” on defense. His defeat by Ronald Reagan in 1980 inaugurated 12 years of dominance by Republican presidents that opened the financial floodgates for the Department of Defense. That taught Bill Clinton and the Democratic Leadership Council a lesson when it came to the wisdom of wrapping the national security state in a welcoming embrace, which they did, however uncomfortably. This expedient turn to the right by the Democrats in the Clinton years served as a temporary booster shot when it came to charges of being “soft” on defense — until Republicans upped the ante by going “all-in” on military crusades in the aftermath of 9/11.
Since his election in 2008, Barack Obama has done little to alter the course set by his predecessors. He, too, has chosen not to challenge Washington’s prevailing catechism of war. Republicans have responded, however, not by muting their criticism, but by upping the ante yet again. How else to explain House Speaker John Boehner’s invitation to Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu to address a joint session of Congress in March? That address promises to be a pep talk for the Republicans, as well as a smack down of the Obama administration and its “appeasenik” policies toward Iran and Islamic radicalism.
Serious oversight, let alone opposition to the national security state by Congress or a mainstream political party, has been missing in action for years and must now, in the wake of the Senate Torture Report fiasco (from which the CIA emerged stronger, not weaker), be presumed dead. The recent midterm election triumph of Republican war hawks and the prospective lineup of candidates for president in 2016 does not bode well when it comes to reining in the national security state in any foreseeable future.
3. “Support Our Troops” as a substitute for thought. You’ve seen them everywhere: “Support Our Troops” stickers. In fact, the “support” in that slogan generally means acquiescence when it comes to American-style war. The truth is that we’ve turned the all-volunteer military into something like a foreign legion, deploying it again and again to our distant battle zones and driving it into the ground in wars that amount to strategic folly. Instead of admitting their mistakes, America’s leaders have worked to obscure them by endlessly overpraising our “warriors” as so many universal heroes. This may salve our collective national conscience, but it’s a form of cheap grace that saves no lives — and wins no wars.
Instead, this country needs to listen more carefully to its troops, especially the war critics who have risked their lives while fighting overseas. Organizations like Iraq Veterans Against the War and Veterans for Peace are good places to start.
4. Fighting a redacted war. War, like the recent Senate torture report, is redacted in America. Its horrors and mistakes are suppressed, its patriotic whistleblowers punished, even as the American people are kept in a demobilized state. The act of going to war no longer represents the will of the people, as represented by formal Congressional declarations of war as the U.S. Constitution demands. Instead, in these years, Americans were told to go to Disney World (as George W. Bush suggested in the wake of 9/11) and keep shopping. They’re encouraged not to pay too much attention to war’s casualties and costs, especially when those costs involve foreigners with funny-sounding names (after all, they are, as American sniper Chris Kyle so indelicately put it in his book, just “savages”).
Redacted war hides the true cost of a permanent state of killing from the American people, if not from foreign observers. Ignorance and apathy reign, even as a national security state that is essentially a shadow government equates its growth with your safety.
5. Threat inflation: There’s nothing new about threat inflation. We saw plenty of it during the Cold War (nonexistent missile and bomber gaps, for example). Fear sells and we’ve had quite a dose of it in the twenty-first century, from ISIS to Ebola. But a more important truth is that fear is a mind-killer, a debate-stifler.
Back in September, for example, Senator Lindsey Graham warned that ISIS and its radical Islamic army was coming to America to kill us all. ISIS, of course, is a regional power with no ability to mount significant operations against the United States. But fear is so commonplace, so effectively stoked in this country that Americans routinely and wildly exaggerate the threat posed by al-Qaeda or ISIS or the bogeyman du jour.
Decades ago, as a young lieutenant in the Air Force, I was hunkered down in Cheyenne Mountain during the Cold War. It was the ultimate citadel-cum-bomb-shelter, and those in it were believed to have a 70% likelihood of surviving a five-megaton nuclear blast. There, not surprisingly, I found myself contemplating the very real possibility of a thermonuclear exchange with the Soviet Union, a war that would have annihilated life as we knew it, indeed much of life on our planet thanks to the phenomenon of nuclear winter. You’ll excuse me for not shaking in my boots at the threat of ISIS coming to get me. Or of Sharia Law coming to my local town hall. With respect to such fears, America needs, as Hillary Clinton said in an admittedly different context, to “grow a pair.”
6. Defining the world as a global battlefield: In fortress America, all realms have by now become battle spheres. Not only much of the planet, the seas, air, and space, as well as the country’s borders and its increasingly up-armored police forces, but the world of thought, the insides of our minds. Think of the 17 intertwined intelligence outfits in “the U.S. Intelligence Community” and their ongoing “surge” for information dominance across every mode of human communication, as well as the surveillance of everything. And don’t forget the national security state’s leading role in making cyberwar a reality. (Indeed, Washington launched the first cyberwar in history by deploying the Stuxnet computer worm against Iran.)
Think of all this as a global matrix that rests on war, empowering disaster capitalismand the corporate complexes that have formed around the Pentagon, the Department of Homeland Security, and that intelligence community. A militarized matrix doesn’t blink at $1.45 trillion dollars devoted to the F-35, a single under-performing jet fighter, nor at projections of $355 billion over the next decade for “modernizing” the U.S. nuclear arsenal, weapons that Barack Obama vowed to abolish in 2009.
7. The new “normal” in America is war: The 9/11 attacks happened more than 13 years ago, which means that no teenagers in America can truly remember a time when the country was at peace. ”War time” is their normal; peace, a fairy tale.
What’s truly “exceptional” in twenty-first-century America is any articulated vision of what a land at peace with itself and other nations might be like. Instead, war, backed by a diet of fear, is the backdrop against which the young have grown to adulthood. It’s the background noise of their world, so much a part of their lives that they hardly recognize it for what it is. And that’s the most insidious danger of them all.
How do we inoculate our children against such a permanent state of war and the war state itself? I have one simple suggestion: just stop it. All of it. Stop making war a never-ending part of our lives and stop celebrating it, too. War should be the realm of the extreme, of the abnormal. It should be the death of normalcy, not the dreary norm.
It’s never too soon, America, to enlist in that good fight!
Mission Accomplished in Iraq in 2003! Why, then, did U.S. troops stay until 2026?
Postscript (2026): Today, America’s Department of Defense has been rebranded as the Department of War. It’s led by a wannabe warlord who revels in attacking without mercy. Even worse, America’s commander-in-chief has threatened the total obliteration of Iran while going all-in on a Pentagon budget of $1.5 trillion in FY2027. A feckless Congress does nothing to stop Trump’s wars and has from day one facilitated Israel’s genocide against Gaza.
America’s leaders say they want peace, but that the only language they—the enemy of that day—understand is murderous violence. What if that language is the only one ourleaders understand? Even worse, why have we allowed them to preach and act as if war truly is peace?
Donald Trump is a one-man horror show. Call him “annihilation man” for threatening to exterminate nearly 93 million Iranians for the crime of defying his will (and that of Israel and Netanyahu).
I don’t write about Trump a lot because he’s so scrutable. He is what he is, an utterly shameless con man, a bullying narcissist who’s always on the make. What he isn’t, what he’s never been, what he never will be, is a public servant. Sadly, he has a lot of company. Few prominent politicians today really are, and if they are, the system does its best to corrupt them or expunge them if they can’t be corrupted.
Trump came pre-corrupted, so to speak. Put more charitably, the powers that be determined they could live with Trump because he was so easily manipulated. Let him make some money, let him sign things with a Sharpie, let him pose and preen and insult, and otherwise flatter and cajole him in the direction you want him to go.
Some Americans, Trump supporters of course, seem to think of Trump as a sort of lovable rogue. They laugh with, sometimes at, Trump while investing him with far more meaning than he has. It’s strange. They make apologies for him and think of him as being on their team.
Back in October 2016, I implored Americans to “dump chump Trump.” I remember getting a comment from a reader about my article, in which I contrasted my father’s character with that of Trump’s. Basically, the guy commenting said he preferred the kind of man Trump was. He really did emulate the bully, the braggart, the bigot in Trump. Perhaps because it gave him the excuse to be the same.
Anyhow, here’s that article I wrote ten years ago this month. Obviously, America chose not to dump chump Trump, and so here we are, facing his many lamentable qualities, most especially his boasts about annihilating Iran just because they choose to resist his will.
Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump holds a rally with supporters at the Suburban Collection Showplace in Novi, Michigan, U.S. September 30, 2016. REUTERS/Jonathan Ernst
What kind of a presidential candidate tweets in the middle of the night about alleged sex tapes involving a former Miss Universe winner? Indeed, what kind of a man does this?
Donald Trump is a chump. I’d call him a chimp, except it would be an insult to chimpanzees everywhere. The man has no discipline, no sense of decorum, and no compassion for others (let’s not forget his signature line, “You’re fired”). Indeed, he seems to revel in humiliating others. This was mildly amusing when he was taking on equals on the stage during the Republican primaries, but it’s disturbing in the extreme to see him bullying the little guys and gals for whom he’s supposedly a champion.
So many sane people and major newspapers have gone on record as being against Trump that there’s little I can add. Sadly, Trump’s followers seem unperturbed and undisturbed no matter his insults and tyrannical behavior.
All I can say is this: Trump is not the kind of man my father taught me to be. My dad, who fought forest fires in Oregon in the CCC, a veteran of an armored division in World War II, a city firefighter for more than 30 years until his retirement, treated people fairly and squarely. He was humble about himself and considerate to others. I can’t recall him insulting others, certainly not in the intentional and hurtful way that Trump directs at others. Trump is especially fond of attacking women or minorities or anyone he sees as vulnerable, the very opposite of my dad’s code of behavior.
Don’t get me wrong: my dad wasn’t perfect. He had his faults. But his faults were not directed at others; he didn’t try to demean or diminish other people, as Trump so obviously enjoys doing. Unlike Trump, my dad wasn’t boastful; indeed, three favorite sayings of his were: “Still waters run deep,” “Don’t toot your own horn,” and “The empty barrel makes the most noise.”
You were right, Dad. The rushing nonsense from Trump exhibits his shallowness; the man is constantly tooting (or tweeting) his own horn; and, like the empty vessel that he is, he makes an awful amount of noise.
Trump: Not the kind of man my father would respect; not the kind of man our country needs.
The one quote I know from Joe Biden is show me your budget and I’ll tell you what you value. Biden wasn’t exactly Abe Lincoln but that quote does resonate.
As the “Department of War” budget approaches $1.5 trillion, as spending on boondoggle weapons systems like the Sentinel ICBM, the B-21 nuclear bomber, and the “Golden Dome” continues to soar, it’s obvious what America’s leaders value: war and weapons, full-spectrum dominance, coercion and control, mass violence and threats of the same.
Only an American leader is currently threatening the complete annihilation of ninety million people, as Trump has done repeatedly with Iran. Surely mass death and destruction shouldn’t be what America values most?
As war and weapons spending continues to spiral upward, Americans should reflect on the lost opportunity cost of all that money. Better schools, more affordable health care, more housing, a cleaner and safer environment, all this and more is achievable if we invested in them rather than wasting it all on more weaponry and more wars.
Bringing this message home with the help of humble Oreo cookies is Ben Cohen, famously of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. The short video below is well worth watching.
Tell your members of Congress you’re fed up with murderous wars and deadly weaponry. Vote them out if they refuse to change their ways. And let’s start saving some Oreos for ourselves and our hungry neighbors rather than handing them all to gluttonous warmongers.
There’s a kerfuffle about art being political, with journalists and writers I respect, such as Matt Taibbi and Caitlin Johnstone, coming down on opposite sides of the issue.
Johnstone puts it bluntly: “I have no respect for this idea that art is somehow separable from politics. ALL art is political when you live in a genocidal dystopia, because all your expression exists in relation to our freakish civilization.”
While I sympathize with Johnston’s opposition to the ongoing genocide in Gaza, and have written plenty of articles myself against this genocide, I don’t define all my writing as reducible to politics. Writing is a form of self-expression, a creative act, and though we are all influenced by the society in which we live, that doesn’t mean that everything we write (or otherwise create) is necessarily a political expression.
Of course, art can have political meaning, often by design, occasionally not. But if all art is political, doesn’t that suggest that art is simply politics by another name?
Without looking at dictionary definitions, I think of art as a creative act. An act of imagination, an expression of the human spirit. We draw, we write, we sculpt, we make music, we dance, etc., as forms of expression. The richness of that expression–those creative acts–shouldn’t be reduced to political expressions. The best art transcends politics.
It’s like saying all sports is politics. Sure, sports can have political meaning, but sport is something more than political expression. For example, there is a physical joy to sports, as a form of expression, that denies its reduction to politics.
This idea that everything is politics or political is a dangerous one. It seems to be driven by those who want to attack others for the “wrong” politics in their art. Defining art as politics seems a handy formula for the dictator to outlaw or repress art that is considered dangerously “political” or otherwise threatening to political power.
Hitler, a failed artist, judges “degenerate” art
Recall that in the 1930s Adolf Hitler attacked “Jewish” art as degenerate. Included in that was jazz as well, treated by the Nazis as a degenerate form of music, associated as it was with Black and Jewish musicians.
Art, put simply, is something more than politics, and those who create art shouldn’t be defined or judged or constrained or condemned by the politics of critics who see everything through a political lens.
A strange conceit of American exceptionalism is the naked ambition of full-spectrum dominance. The idea is this: America must dominate every realm of potential conflict, land-sea-air as well as space and cyber and any other realm you can imagine, for that is the only way Americans can truly be “safe.” Such a conceit comes with a hefty price tag as Pentagon spending soars toward $1.5 trillion a year. But money is the least of it. The heftiest price tag is the constant state of warfare (and preparations for yet more war) that has characterized U.S. foreign policy since 1945. That, and the erosion of personal liberty and freedom and the hollowing out of the American middle- and working classes as money flows upward to war contractors in the service of boundless imperial ambition.
There’s a god-like quality to this ambition, the idea America must be omnipotent, dominating all realms of warfare, and omniscient, sweeping up all data everywhere, in an unapologetic quest for global reach and global power together with the unapologetic exercise of that murderous power against peoples generally having brown or black skin and therefore treated as inferiors.
With only slight exaggeration, the U.S. government can be said to be projecting power everywhere and helping ordinary Americans nowhere. Destruction is favored over construction. Enriching the already rich is the goal even as the impoverished are made poorer.
The U.S. taxpayer, in the old days known as citizens, are paying through the nose for unneeded weapons systems (Sentinel ICBMs, B-21 nuclear bombers, Golden Dome), unwanted wars (Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran), and an imperial structure of force projection that virtually guarantees the violence will be unending. This imperial structure, with its goal to control all, to know all, to dominate all, is supported by Democrats and Republicans. Critics of this structure, present in both parties but in small numbers, are attacked and otherwise kept on the margins.
None of this is new. In the early 1960s, Senator George McGovern, a decorated bomber pilot during World War II, argued against the pursuit of nuclear “overkill” and called for substantial cuts to defense spending and reinvestment in civilian infrastructure. In support of this initiative, he cited Republican President Dwight D. Eisenhower’s military-industrial complex warning of January 1961. McGovern’s initiative was quickly abandoned as the Johnson administration ramped up its disastrous war in Southeast Asia.
Nearly a decade later, with Southeast Asia ravaged if not defeated, McGovern urged his fellow citizens to “come home,” to stop the folly of overseas wars and ever-increasing military budgets. He was overwhelmingly defeated by Richard Nixon in the 1972 Presidential election.
Ever since that defeat, the Democratic Party has conspired to silence candidates who are antiwar and who dissent from the idea of imperial dominance. Dennis Kucinich comes to mind here. Even moderate calls for reform from candidates like Bernie Sanders are dismissed as naive or dangerous. The result has been Democrats like Obama, Biden, Hillary Clinton, and Harris who openly embrace “good” wars (Afghanistan, for Obama) and who eagerly celebrate military lethality (Harris).
Meanwhile, the Republican Party never met a military budget increase it didn’t like. Rare indeed are voices like Ron and Rand Paul and Thomas Massie who question the wisdom of endless wars and their adverse impact on rights and freedoms here.
What is to be done? Bernie Sanders called for a political revolution, surely a correct call, but he was neutered by the establishment of both parties. Elizabeth Warren spoke of “big, structural changes,” but that was for the domestic economy; her foreign policy was basically that of Biden/Harris. A few rogue Republicans speak up against the Iran war today, but rare indeed are those who openly call for major cuts to war spending.
In short, electing our way out of imperial dominance and colossal war and weapons spending is unlikely in the extreme. Many many people (myself included) have written sensible articles calling for deep cuts to military spending, but good ideas that go against the grain gain little traction without a strong and concerted movement behind them.
America desperately needs a coordinated mass movement against endless war and massive military spending, yet the “powers that be” keep doubling down on yet more wars and even more massive war spending. That same establishment continues to multiply U.S. “enemies.” It may be Iran today, but Russia and especially China always loom, with North Korea and other “rogue” states held in reserve just in case.
The sheer folly and massive expense of it all will likely lead to the end of the (however imperfectly practiced) American democratic experiment. That’s a grim conclusion, I know, but I’m less than hopeful as the tools America has used in its unjust wars overseas are now increasingly applied in the “homeland” against alleged dissenters.
Remember when “dissenters” used to be called concerned citizens? Remember when war was considered to be bad and weapons spending was seen as the unwisest of ways to spend our resources?
America doesn’t have to be a warrior-state or in a state of constant war. A “silent majority” of Americans clearly doesn’t want endless war and outspokenly wants better lives for their children. But better days will not come if this majority remains silent or otherwise demobilized.
The Main Obstacle
As Ike said in 1961, the main obstacle is the military-industrial complex (MIC), to which he added Congress as an abetter and accomplice. That complex in 65 years has greatly added to its power and cultural penetration. The term MICIMATT adds the intelligence “community,” the media, academe, and think tanks. To that we might add the sporting world, Hollywood, video games, and now wildcard tech billionaires. All these interests conspire to absorb trillions of dollars from U.S. taxpayers, ostensibly in the name of national security, while waging or supporting endless war.
Ike said only alert and knowledgeable citizens, actively participating in democracy, could compel the MIC to curb its worst and most grandiose ambitions. Sadly, this is precisely why the American people are constantly lied to, especially about wars, why so much is kept hidden or “classified,” and why people are encouraged to salute smartly and let the military experts handle everything.
Even worse, the very idea of active citizenship is now degraded; the only “duty” apparently left is voting, where you’re encouraged to vote Democrat or Republican and otherwise to reject any third-party candidate who may be antiwar as irrelevant if not invalid (and possibly un-American).
Our ultimate security doesn’t reside in guns or other weapons or in boundless violence. It resides in strong institutions committed to the rule of law in which individuals of character stand up and speak out against abuses of power. Come home, America, to a land of generosity and hope and peace.
“Thou shalt not kill” is a commandment with many exceptions.
Pete Hegseth and the Pentagon want to livestream a military execution by firing squad. We can all watch! Even some Republicans are aghast and Trump says he’ll make the final determination. But Trump is no opponent of capital punishment.
Some moral clarity can be seen from the Catholic Church, as with this statement:
Archbishop Paul S. Coakley, the president of the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops, called the planned livestream “a barbaric promotion of a culture of death” and warned it would harm the country.
“The public execution even of one who has done grave harm will only further undermine the moral fabric of our nation and be a blight on the conscience of its people,” he said.
A culture of death, indeed. The United States leads the world in mass shootings, weapons exports (“the merchants of death”), and threats of annihilation (Trump has threatened Iranian civilization with obliteration at least six times).
So much for “Thou shalt not kill”!
Seriously, there was a whole lot of killing in the Old Testament, where God was often quite wrathful and his “chosen” people were encouraged to smite their enemies. As a boy I learned the saying that “the beginning of wisdom is the fear of God.” You never knew when God might demand a human sacrifice (a son?) or encourage you to smite the Amalekites.
1 Samuel 15:3 King James Version
Now go and smite Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have, and spare them not; but slay both man and woman, infant and suckling, ox and sheep, camel and ass.
God was kind of a dick here. What did he have against camels and donkeys?
With Jesus Christ a New Testament came along that encouraged tolerance, turning the other cheek, putting down swords, and blessing peacemakers as children of God. Those pacific pleas didn’t bother many Americans who prefer instead to think of Jesus as loving warriors armed with guns or flaming swords, looking something like the Dark Lord Sauron in Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings.”
That is an image very much at odds with “Thou shalt not kill.”
If one murderous death is bad, surely weapons with the ability to murder millions are infinitely worse. Yet the U.S. military is once again embracing genocidal nuclear weapons. Of course, the Pentagon doesn’t speak openly of murdering millions or possibly billions of people. It speaks of “investing” in nukes, of “modernizing” them, of “recapitalizing” the nuclear arsenal.
I must say I prefer the honesty of the King James Version of the Bible about smiting and killing. God didn’t obfuscate that his chosen people should modernize their spears or recapitalize their knives or invest in more swords before annihilating Amalek.
Just as Americans are exceptional at violating the sixth commandment against killing, so too was the god of the Old Testament. He was a jealous god, the superpower of his day, THE exceptional one, with global reach and global power over life and death.
We’ve learned a few lessons from the Bible, but not the wisest ones.
Today, I talked about the decline and fall of the citizen-soldier ideal in America with Judge Napolitano on “Judging Freedom.”
The judge asked me a powerful question about “Thou shalt not kill” and the pursuit of killing in war. Is killing ever truly justified by wartime imperatives? There are no easy answers to that question, nor should there be.
You can fall back on Just War theory, but I wasn’t mentally prepared to discuss that complex subject in detail.
There are times, I believe, when killing in war is justifiable, such as a defensive war against implacable enemies bent on destruction. Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan come to mind from World War II. Of course, war is always awful, always barbarous, and those caught up in war are degraded by it. Nevertheless, U.S. citizen-soldiers of World War II behaved less atrociously and generally stood for higher ideals than their counterparts in Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan.
Again, when you read combat accounts written by U.S. troops, such as E.B. Sledge’s “With the Old Breed” about his service in the Marine Corps fighting the Japanese, you quickly realize both sides fought viciously, both sides committed atrocities, because that is the nature of brutal combat. But the Japanese were more fanatical and more prone to barbarous actions than U.S. troops, though Americans learned quickly to return the favor.
All war is awful, all war is murderous, therefore it should be avoided whenever possible. Still, no one need submit to a dictatorship like that of Nazi Germany or the militaristic rule of imperial Japan. There is nobility in defending kith and kin and for defending as well ideals that serve liberty, freedom, and justice.
High-minded displays of non-violent resistance are admirable, as are mindful appeals to compassion, but they would not have stopped the work of Hitler’s Panzers or his death camps.
The problem is that since World War II, America hasn’t waged defensive or just wars. Its wars, whether in Southeast Asia or the Middle East, have been undeclared wars driven by imperial designs and reasons that do not in any way justify deadly use of force, especially the wanton use of such force. The American people increasingly recognize this. So too do those in command, which is why they’re working so hard to recruit obedient “warriors” to the ranks today, instead of citizen-soldiers capable of thinking for themselves.
Today’s leaders, men like Pete Hegseth, want to turn war into a guiltless exercise in killing, as if victory always goes to the most ruthless and brutal side in war. History teaches us the opposite is often true. And, assuming that America “won” by being utterly ruthless and annihilatory, would we not have lost our humanity in the process?
The bottom line is that we in America must work for peace while resisting our “leaders” who are so eager to embroil this nation in immoral, incessant, and murderous wars.
Pete Hegseth, self-styled Secretary of War, doesn’t think of himself as a civilian. No—a warrior-chieftain is his preferred identity. A macho tough guy. An alpha male and a crusader. He is the culmination of mindless militarism and warfighter nonsense that has infected the U.S. military beginning in the Reagan years and associated often with fictional avatars like Sylvester Stallone’s John Rambo. (Interestingly, at the age of 80, Stallone recently disavowed his warrior-Rambo archetype and confessed he now hates war, a change of heart that is better late than never, I suppose.)
Civilians may still exercise nominal control over the U.S. military, but in practice Hegseth and Trump are wildly enthusiastic about killing, bombing, even threatening civilizational annihilation again and again. Meanwhile, U.S. troops are encouraged to think of themselves as mindless warriors, obedient to the dictates of their fanatical leaders. N weirdos or beardos or woke-types need apply to this macho man’s military.
Back in 2008, now almost 20 years ago, I wrote about this exaltation of “warfighters” within the U.S. military. Here’s that article, posted originally at TomDispatch.com.
Having the “Best Military” Is Not Always a Good Thing Reclaiming Our Citizen-Soldier Heritage By William J. Astore
When did American troops become “warfighters” — members of “Generation Kill” — instead of citizen-soldiers? And when did we become so proud of declaring our military to be “the world’s best”? These are neither frivolous nor rhetorical questions. Open up any national defense publication today and you can’t miss the ads from defense contractors, all eagerly touting the ways they “serve” America’s “warfighters.” Listen to the politicians, and you’ll hear the obligatory incantation about our military being “the world’s best.”
All this is, by now, so often repeated — so eagerly accepted — that few of us seem to recall how against the American grain it really is. If anything — and I saw this in studying German military history — it’s far more in keeping with the bellicose traditions and bumptious rhetoric of Imperial Germany under Kaiser Wilhelm II than of an American republic that began its march to independence with patriotic Minutemen in revolt against King George.
So consider this a modest proposal from a retired citizen-airman: A small but meaningful act against the creeping militarism of the Bush years would be to collectively repudiate our “world’s best warfighter” rhetoric and re-embrace instead a tradition of reluctant but resolute citizen-soldiers.
Becoming Warfighters
I first noticed the term “warfighter” in 2002. Like many a field-grade staff officer, I spent a lot of time crafting PowerPoint briefings, trying to sell senior officers and the Pentagon on my particular unit’s importance to the President’s new Global War on Terrorism. The more briefings I saw, the more often I came across references to “serving the warfighter.” It was, I suppose, an obvious selling point, once we were at war in Afghanistan and gearing up for “regime-change” in Iraq. And I was probably typical in that I, too, grabbed the term for my briefings. After all, who wants to be left behind when it comes to supporting the troops “at the pointy end of the spear” (to borrow another military trope)?
But I wasn’t comfortable with the term then, and today it tastes bitter in my mouth. Until recent times, the American military was justly proud of being a force of citizen-soldiers. It didn’t matter whether you were talking about those famed Revolutionary War Minutemen, courageous Civil War volunteers, or the “Greatest Generation” conscripts of World War II. After all, Americans had a long tradition of being distrustful of the very idea of a large, permanent army, as well as of giving potentially disruptive authority to generals.
Our tradition of citizen-soldiery was (and could still be) one of the great strengths of this country. Let me give you two examples of such citizen-soldiers, well known within military circles because they wrote especially powerful memoirs. Eugene B. Sledge served in the U.S. Marines during World War II, surviving two unimaginably brutal campaigns on the islands of Peleliu and Okinawa. His memoir With the Old Breed is arguably the best account of ground warfare in the Pacific. After three years of selfless, heroic service to his country, Sledge gladly returned to civilian life, eventually becoming a professor of biology. His conclusion — that “war is brutish, inglorious, and a terrible waste” — is one seconded by many a combat veteran.
Richard (Dick) Winters is better known because his exploits were captured in the HBO series Band of Brothers. He rose from platoon commander to battalion commander, serving in the elite 101st Airborne Division during World War II. A hero beloved by his men, Winters wanted nothing more than to quit the military and return to the civilian world. After the war, he lived a quiet life as a businessman in Pennsylvania, rarely mentioning his service and refusing to use his military rank for personal gratification. In Beyond Band of Brothers, he recounts both his service and his ideas on leadership. It’s a book to put in the hands of any young American who wishes to understand the noble ideas of service and sacrifice.
Sledge and Winters were regular guys who answered their country’s call. What comes across in their memoirs, as well as in the many letters I’ve read from World War II soldiers, was the desire of the average dogface to win the war, return home, hang up the uniform, and never again fire a shot in anger. These men were war-enders, not warfighters. Indeed, they would’ve been sickened by the very idea of being “warfighters.”
The term “warfighter” — a combination, I suppose, of “warrior” and “war fighting” — suggests a person who lives for war, who spoils for a fight. Certainly, the United States has fought its share of ruthless wars. But traditionally our soldiers have thought of themselves as civilians first, soldiers second. Equally as important, the American people thought of their troops that way.
Why are we now, with so little debate, casting aside an ethos that served us well for two centuries for one that straightforwardly embraces war and killing? Possibly because we’ve invented a distinctly American product: sanitized militarism. I bumped into it last week at a most unlikely place.
Visiting Gettysburg
Last week, I finally made it to Gettysburg, site of the great three-day battle between Union and Confederate forces in July 1863 that ended with the defeat of General Robert E. Lee’s army. Walking the battlefield was a sobering experience. I found myself on Little Round Topat 5:00 PM, just about the time of day that Union generals rushed men to reinforce the hill against a determined Confederate assault at the close of the battle’s second day. Earlier, I was at the Angle, just when, almost a century and a half ago, Pickett’s Charge failed to pierce the Union center, sealing Lee’s fate on the third day.
As these events played through my mind, I marveled that I had the battlefield largely to myself. Not that I was alone, mind you. Tour buses circled; cars, trucks, and SUVs whizzed about, but many, perhaps most, Americans who visit Gettysburg get surprisingly little tactile or sensory experience of its difficult topography. Yes, a few kids (and fewer adults) joined me in clambering about the huge, claustrophobically placed boulders of Devil’s Den, and I did spy a couple of guided tour groups on foot. But at the site of a bloodcurdling, distinctly septic nineteenth century battle, most visitors were clearly having a distinctly bloodless, even antiseptic, twenty-first century experience.
That day, I learned a lot about Gettysburg the battle — and maybe a little about us as well. As surely as my fellow tourists were staying in their cars and buses, we, as a people, are distancing ourselves from the realities of war. As we seal ourselves away from war’s horrors, we’re correspondingly finding it easier to speak of “warfighters” and to boast of having the world’s best military.
As we catch a glimpse, from the comfort of our living rooms, of a suicide bombing in Iraq or an American outpost attacked, then abandoned, in Afghanistan, are we not like those tourists in buses at Gettysburg, listening to sanitized recordings telling us what to see and think about the (expurgated) reality in front of us? And who dares challenge the “expert” commentary? Who dares turn off the canned talking heads and stare into the face of war?
But if we are to end our militaristic, yet curiously sanitized, “warfighter” moment, if we are ever to return to our citizen-soldier ethos and heritage, this is just what we must do.
After all, it’s later than you think. Our military now relies not only on a volunteer (if, at times, “stop-lossed”) Army, but increasingly on tens of thousands of hired guns, consultants, interrogators, interpreters, and other paramilitary camp followers. Private, for-profit “security contractors” — companies like Blackwater and Triple Canopy — give a disturbing new meaning to our “warfighter” terminology and the rhetoric that marches in step with it. As even casual students of history will recall, a clear sign of the Roman Empire’s decline was its shift from citizen-soldiers motivated by duty to mercenaries motivated by profit.
Replacing “warfighters” with true citizen-soldiers in the mold of Sledge and Winters would hardly be a solve-all solution at this late date, but it might be a step in the right direction — however unlikely it is to happen. For when we look at our troops, if we don’t see ourselves, then we see aliens or, worse yet, superiors (“warfighters”) in need of “support.” And that’s a clear sign of trouble for the republic.
Want to Be in the “World’s Best Military”? Ask German Veterans
It may come as a shock to some, but the American army wasn’t the best in the field in World War I, or World War II either. And thank heavens for that.
The distinction falls to the Kaiser Wilhelm’s army in 1914, and to Hitler’s Wehrmacht in 1941. Even toward the end of World War II, the American army was still often outmaneuvered and outclassed by its German foe. Because victory has a way of papering over faults and altering memories, few but professional historians today recall the many shortcomings of our military in both world wars.
But that’s precisely the point: The American military made mistakes because it was often ill-trained, rushed into combat too quickly, and handled by officers lacking in experience. Put simply, in both World Wars it lacked the tactical virtuosity of its German counterpart.
But here’s the question to ponder: At what price virtuosity? In World War I and World War II, the Germans were the best soldiers because they had trained and fought the most, because their societies were geared, mentally and in most other ways, for war, because they celebrated and valued feats of arms above all other contributions one could make to society and culture.
Being “the best soldiers” meant that senior German leaders — whether the Kaiser, Field Marshal Paul von Hindenburg, that Teutonic titan of World War I, or Hitler — always expected them to prevail. The mentality was: “We’re number one. How can we possibly lose unless we quit — or those [fill in your civilian quislings of choice] stab us in the back?”
If this mentality sounds increasingly familiar, it’s because it’s the one we ourselves have internalized in these last years. German warfighters and their leaders knew no limitations until it was too late for them to recover from ceaseless combat, imperial overstretch, and economic collapse.
Today, the U.S. military, and by extension American culture, is caught in a similar bind. After all, if we truly believe ours to be “the world’s best military” (and, judging by how often the claim is repeated in the echo chamber of our media, we evidently do), how can we possibly be losing in Iraq or Afghanistan? And, if the “impossible” somehow happens, how can our military be to blame? If our “warfighters” are indeed “the best,” someone else must have betrayed them — appeasing politicians, lily-livered liberals, duplicitous and weak-willed allies like the increasingly recalcitrant Iraqis, you name it.
Today, our military is arguably the world’s best. Certainly, it’s the world’s most powerful in its advanced armaments and its ability to destroy. But what does it say about our leaders that they are so taken with this form of power? And why exactly is it so good to be the “best” at this? Just ask a German military veteran — among the few who survived, that is — in a warrior-state that went berserk in a febrile quest for “full spectrum dominance.”
Fighting to End Wars
Words matter. Let’s start by banishing the word “warfighter,” and, while we’re at it, let’s toss out that “world’s best” boast as well. Boasting about military prowess is more Spartan than Athenian, more Second and Third Reich Germany than republican and democratic America.
Indeed, imagine, for a moment, a world in which the U.S. is no longer “number one” in military might (and, at the same time, no longer fighting endless wars in the Middle East and Central Asia). Would we then be weak and vulnerable? Or would we become stronger precisely because we stopped boasting about our ability as “warfighters” to dominate far from our shores and instead redirected our resources to developing alternative energy, bolstering our education system, reviving American industry, and focusing on other “soft power” alternatives to weapons and warriors? In other words, alternatives we can actually boast about with the pride of accomplishment.
Think about it: Must our military forever remain “second to none” for you to feel safe? Our national traditions suggest otherwise. In fact, if we no longer had the world’s strongest military, perhaps we would be more reluctant to tap its strength — and more hesitant to send our citizen-soldiers into harm’s way. And while we’re at it, perhaps we’d also learn to boast about a new kind of “warfighter” — not one who fights our wars, but one who fights against them.
Postscript (2026): Sadly, the warrior cult is even stronger today, led as it is by enthusiasts like Hegseth and promoted by people who should really know better (but who prefer “to go along to get along” in their bid for promotions and power).
Americans like to think we live in the best country in the world. It’s part of our culture, almost the air that we breathe. Perhaps it’s even in our DNA. We’re told from birth how lucky we are to be American. We’re so much better than everyone else that “they hate us because they ain’t us.”
It’s American mythology, of course, and it’s something I was reminded of as I saw this chart (below) this morning on Twitter/X:
Grim chart. I’m surprised that the chart didn’t include that America is indeed #1 at needless wars, colossal military spending, weapons exports, and militarized pageantry that extols the wonders of being an American as various combat jets roar overhead. We’re also #1 at the size of our national debt, now exceeding $40 trillion and rising.
The chart above suggests how America could close the gap by making health care better and more affordable, by improving education, by enhancing the quality of living for all, and so on, but politicians rarely address such issues. The political ads I’ve seen during this electoral season focus on which candidate is more corrupt or which candidate wants to raise your taxes or which candidate can lower the price of gasoline.
George Carlin famously said that you had to be asleep (or perhaps very rich) to believe in the “American dream,” but it seems today that the aspirational dream of a better, more enlightened, more democratic country is dead. The only people dreaming big are people like Trump, he of triumphant arches loaded with snipers and drones, of ballrooms with underground bunkers, of a new “Club Med” in Gaza once the Palestinians there are murdered or starved or forced out.
And maybe that’s a big legacy of MAGA: the death of the American dream, strangled by wars and militarism and corruption. Along with the redefinition of “greatness,” which is now defined by “warriors” kicking people when they’re down and threatening entire civilizations with annihilation.
