For a great many years, as a soldier, I had a suspicion that war
For a great many years, as a soldier, I had a suspicion that war was a racket; not until I retired to civil life did I fully realize it.
The words of Smedley Butler — “For a great many years, as a soldier, I had a suspicion that war was a racket; not until I retired to civil life did I fully realize it.” — strike with the weight of a man who had seen war from the inside and judged it from the outside. Butler, one of the most decorated Marines in American history, fought in foreign lands, led men into battle, and carried the burdens of command. Yet when the smoke cleared and the years of service were behind him, he spoke not with pride alone, but with sorrow, naming war not as glory, but as racket — a scheme that profits the few while consuming the blood of the many.
In his confession lies a dual vision. As a soldier, Butler obeyed orders, charged forward, and did his duty. But even in the midst of service, he felt a suspicion — a whisper in the heart that something was amiss, that perhaps the cause was not as noble as proclaimed. Only later, in the calm of civilian life, did the whisper become a roar. He saw how corporations fattened on contracts, how politicians gained in power, while the soldier gained only wounds, scars, and a folded flag upon his coffin. The scales of his eyes fell away, and he recognized war not only as tragedy, but as exploitation.
History confirms his lament. During the First World War, millions perished in the trenches while industries of steel, oil, and arms reaped fortunes. Men drowned in mud while bankers tallied profits. Butler, who had served in campaigns across Central America and Asia, looked back and saw that often these wars were less about defending liberty and more about securing markets, resources, and wealth for the powerful. His words are not the bitterness of defeat, but the clarity of revelation — the recognition that war can be manipulated into a business, a racket disguised as patriotism.
Consider the contrast: the soldier in the field, weary and cold, asks only for survival, while those far from the front lines barter in gold. This divide is as old as time. In ancient Rome, generals enriched themselves with the spoils of conquest, while legionaries returned to poverty. In modern days, arms dealers and financiers thrive while widows mourn. Butler’s insight reveals that the true cost of war is not merely in treasure, but in the lives spent as currency for the ambitions of the few.
Yet his words carry not only condemnation, but also warning. If war is allowed to remain a racket, then nations will be forever caught in its grip, drawn into conflicts that serve not the people, but the profiteers. Butler’s confession is a call to vigilance, a plea for citizens to look beyond the banners and speeches, to ask who benefits from the drums of war, and who pays the price. For only by lifting the veil can people resist being used as pawns in games of power.
The lesson for us is profound: do not accept war at face value. Question its origins, its motives, and its beneficiaries. Do not be swept away by rhetoric that glorifies sacrifice while hiding profit. Honor the soldier, yes, but scrutinize the reasons for which soldiers are sent to bleed. To love one’s country is not to cheer every war, but to demand that wars, if they must be fought, are fought for justice and not for greed.
What, then, should we do in our own lives? First, cultivate awareness. Read, question, and look beneath the surface of political calls to arms. Second, support peace where possible, and resist the voices that grow rich from conflict. Finally, honor veterans not only with words, but by ensuring their sacrifices are never exploited for unjust causes. For the greatest tribute to the soldier is to ensure his blood is never spilled for the profit of others.
Thus let Butler’s words endure as a torch of truth: war, when twisted by greed, becomes a racket. But when citizens awaken, when they demand accountability, when they refuse to be deceived, then war may cease to be a business and return to what it should always be — a last resort, borne of necessity, not of profit. This is the wisdom he passed to us, to guard against the folly of power, and to protect the dignity of those who serve.
BHTa Nu Bich Hue
Butler’s admission that he only realized the true nature of war after retiring is striking. It makes me think about how difficult it must be to see the full picture while actively engaged in a conflict. Is it possible that we, as a society, only recognize the economic and political exploitation behind war when we’re removed from it? How do we ensure that future generations don’t fall into the same traps?
NTMai nhat Truong
Butler’s quote makes me question the ethics of war, especially when he describes it as a 'racket.' Does this mean that wars are often fought not for freedom or justice, but for financial gain? How do we reconcile the personal sacrifices of soldiers with the potential underlying profit motives of those in power? Can we prevent this manipulation of soldiers for corporate or political gains in future conflicts?
NQViet Nguyen Quoc
Butler’s statement challenges the traditional view of war as a necessary and honorable endeavor. It makes me wonder: how much of war is driven by profit for a select few, at the expense of countless lives? Is this the reality soldiers face but are too deeply immersed in to recognize? What changes would be required to shift the way society views war, especially in terms of its true cost and purpose?
AAGB
Smedley Butler’s reflection on war as a 'racket' is both revealing and troubling. His realization after retiring suggests that soldiers, while in service, might not fully grasp the political and economic motives behind war. How often do we overlook the deeper motivations for conflict, such as profit or power, and instead romanticize war as a noble cause? Can we ever truly understand the complexities of war while directly involved in it?