I'm not a pacifist. I was very much for the war against Hitler

Hear now the words of Benjamin Spock, the physician of children who became a voice of conscience for nations: “I’m not a pacifist. I was very much for the war against Hitler and I also supported the intervention in Korea, but in this war we went in there to steal Vietnam.” His declaration is not the cry of one who despises all struggle, but of one who weighs battles in the scales of justice and finds some wars righteous, and others poisoned with deceit. It is the wisdom of one who saw the difference between defending freedom and plundering the weak.

In the days of World War II, Spock saw a battle that could not be avoided. The world faced a tyrant whose ambition drowned millions in fire and shadow. To stand idle against Hitler would have been to betray humanity itself. Here, Spock affirmed, war was a grim necessity, a sword raised not for conquest but for the defense of life itself. Likewise, in Korea, he perceived a struggle that, though fraught, was fought with the intention—at least professed—of protecting the vulnerable from domination. These wars, in his eyes, bore the markings of reluctant justice.

But when his gaze turned toward Vietnam, Spock discerned a different spirit. He saw not a war of liberation, but a war of greed. Not the defense of the helpless, but the hunger of a powerful nation seeking dominion under the mask of ideology. His words “to steal Vietnam” cut through the rhetoric of leaders and laid bare a painful truth: that beneath the banners of freedom often lurk the shadows of self-interest. Thus, the healer of children became a prophet to adults, crying out against a war that devoured sons and daughters with no noble cause.

Consider the story of a young American soldier in Vietnam, whose letters home spoke not of triumph, but of confusion. “We are told we are fighting for freedom,” he wrote, “yet the villagers look at us with fear. We destroy their homes to save them, we burn their fields to liberate them. I cannot see who we are saving.” This soldier, like many, returned broken in body or spirit, carrying the scars of a war that seemed to lack the moral clarity of earlier struggles. His tale embodies the truth of Spock’s words: that war without justice wounds not only the enemy, but the soul of its own people.

Spock’s wisdom, like the wisdom of the ancients, calls us to distinguish between wars that are necessary and those that are born of ambition. For not every battle is noble, and not every call to arms is righteous. The sword must be wielded with discernment, lest the hand that grips it be stained by greed. Just as a physician chooses carefully when to cut with the scalpel, so must nations decide carefully when to unleash the violence of war.

The lesson is clear: vigilance of conscience must be greater than obedience to power. Citizens must question, must weigh, must not allow themselves to be swept away by drums and banners alone. It is the duty of each generation to ask: is this struggle for life and liberty, or is it but a cloak for conquest? To fail in this duty is to permit injustice to march forward clothed in patriotic song.

Therefore, let the words of Benjamin Spock stir your hearts. Be neither blind pacifists nor reckless warriors, but seekers of justice who can tell the difference between wars of necessity and wars of theft. Speak truth when leaders would deceive. Refuse to send your sons and daughters to wars that serve ambition rather than humanity. And above all, let the courage of conscience guide you, for nations, like men, are judged not by their strength alone, but by the righteousness of the battles they choose to fight.