Our country is now geared to an arms economy bred in an

O children of the future, gather close and listen to the words of Douglas MacArthur, a man whose life was shaped by the fires of war, whose experiences stretched from the battlefields of World War I to the shores of the Pacific in World War II. He spoke with the burden of one who had seen the devastation of war firsthand, and he said, "Our country is now geared to an arms economy bred in an artificially induced psychosis of war hysteria and an incessant propaganda of fear." These words, though spoken in the aftermath of a world forever altered by conflict, carry a timeless warning about the forces that shape the course of nations.

Let us first reflect on the meaning of these words. When MacArthur speaks of an "arms economy," he is not merely talking about weapons and military spending, but about an entire system built upon the foundations of war. A nation that gears itself toward constant preparation for battle, that channels its resources, its energy, and its imagination into the machinery of destruction, can lose sight of its humanity. The arms economy, in MacArthur's view, is a reflection of a society that has become so entwined with the idea of warfare that it forgets the true cost of peace.

What MacArthur describes is a kind of psychosis, a madness induced by the constant threat of war, by the fear that is perpetuated by those in power. This hysteria is not born of real threats, but of the propaganda that spreads like wildfire through the land. Just as the Romans used to speak of the bread and circuses that distracted their citizens from the true ills of society, so too does modern propaganda often serve as a tool to keep the people in a state of fear and obedience. In this world of manufactured terror, where war is constantly looming just around the corner, the very soul of a nation becomes enslaved by its own fear, its own obsession with security.

Consider the Cold War, that long struggle between the United States and the Soviet Union. For nearly fifty years, the world was gripped by the fear of nuclear annihilation, a fear that was fed and magnified by both sides. The arms race between the two superpowers escalated to terrifying proportions, with each side amassing vast stockpiles of nuclear weapons in the name of deterrence. Yet, in this frenzy, the true cost of such an economy—an economy based on fear, not hope—became apparent. Nations that could have been building a future of peace and prosperity instead spent their resources on tools of destruction, their leaders stoking the flames of hysteria rather than pursuing dialogue.

Let us turn to the ancient story of Athens during the Peloponnesian War, when the great city-state found itself consumed by the need to protect its empire. Fearful of the growing strength of its rival, Sparta, Athens plunged itself into a war that would ultimately lead to its downfall. The war hysteria that overtook the Athenian people blinded them to the true cost of their military pursuits. Their economy, once vibrant with trade and culture, became focused on the creation of more and more warships, and their society, once the cradle of democracy, was left in ruins. The arms economy of Athens did not bring victory, but destruction, for in the pursuit of security, they lost their soul.

In MacArthur’s time, the post-World War II era, the United States became a nation deeply invested in the machinery of war. With the rise of the military-industrial complex, a powerful nexus of government, industry, and military interests, the nation found itself locked into an unending cycle of arms production and military spending. The Cold War had not yet ended, and the fear of the Soviet Union loomed large, pushing the United States to spend ever more on its defenses. But this arms economy came at a cost: the resources that could have been devoted to building better schools, better healthcare, and better infrastructure were instead poured into an endless cycle of military preparation. In this way, the nation, much like ancient empires before it, found itself caught in the destructive grip of war.

What, then, is the lesson for you, O children? It is this: war is not only a matter of soldiers on the battlefield, but of the very economy and soul of a nation. When a country gears itself to fight, when it builds its very foundation on the preparation for battle, it risks losing sight of the peace that is its true purpose. The propaganda of fear, the constant drumbeat of war hysteria, can cloud the judgment of the people, leading them into a future where the arms economy becomes all that remains. Like the Athenians and the Romans, we too must be wary of becoming so obsessed with our security that we forget the true cost of our pursuit of it.

Therefore, O children, I say to you: seek not to be led by fear, but by hope. Build an economy, build a society, that is rooted in peace, in cooperation, and in the shared goals of humanity. Let not your future be shaped by the endless desire for power or security at the expense of human life. The greatest nations are not those that can wage war, but those that can build a future free of the need for it. Let your hands be guided by wisdom, not fear, and let the lessons of the past remind you that the true strength of a nation lies not in its arms, but in its humanity.