The military don't start wars. Politicians start wars.

"The military don't start wars. Politicians start wars." These powerful words, spoken by William Westmoreland, carry the weight of profound wisdom and a stark truth: war, with all its destruction and suffering, is often the result of decisions made in the halls of power, not in the trenches. The soldiers, those who fight, bleed, and die, are but the instruments of the will of the politicians—the ones who make the decisions but rarely feel the consequences of their actions. This truth has echoed throughout history, from the rise and fall of empires to the most recent global conflicts.

The origins of this idea can be traced back to the beginning of human civilization, where the first kings and rulers sent their people to war, not out of necessity, but to secure power and dominance. Julius Caesar, the great Roman general, is a perfect example of a leader who sought conquest not because he needed to protect his people, but to further his own glory and the glory of the Roman Empire. He waged wars to expand the empire’s territory, not because the citizens of Rome were under threat, but because political ambition drove him to secure his place in history. Caesar is often praised for his military genius, but it is important to remember that it was not the soldiers who started the war; it was the politicians, the rulers who made the choice to send them into battle.

In the modern age, this truth has become painfully clear. Consider the Vietnam War, where Westmoreland himself served as a commander. The war in Vietnam was not a battle that the soldiers fought for their own survival; it was a political conflict fueled by the desire to stop the spread of communism. It was a war born from the political decisions made by leaders like Lyndon B. Johnson and Richard Nixon, who chose to engage in battle on the soil of Southeast Asia. The soldiers, young men from various walks of life, were thrust into the conflict with little choice but to obey their orders. It was the politicians, far removed from the front lines, who determined the course of that war, while the soldiers bore the brunt of its horrific consequences.

Westmoreland’s words ring true when we reflect on the world wars as well. World War I began not with the soldiers marching to battle but with the political decisions made by the great powers of Europe. The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand set off a chain of events, but it was the complex web of alliances, national pride, and political maneuvering that dragged nations into war. The soldiers did not seek conflict; they were ordered into it, and their families were left to mourn. As with many wars throughout history, the generals and militaries were not the architects of destruction—they were the tools used to execute the decisions of those who sat at the tables of power.

This principle is not limited to modern conflicts alone. Alexander the Great, despite his brilliance as a general, did not initiate his wars of conquest for the survival of his people. It was his ambition, his desire to expand the Macedonian Empire, that led to the wars he waged across Asia. The soldiers fought because they were compelled to by their king, but it was Alexander who made the decisions, motivated by a vision of greatness. Alexander’s conquests were not about protecting his kingdom, but about increasing his empire’s power, a decision made from the throne, not the battlefield.

The deeper lesson in Westmoreland’s words is that war—the suffering, the bloodshed, the loss—is often the result of political calculation. Those who make the decisions about war rarely experience the consequences themselves. They live in their palaces, in their seats of power, insulated from the pain they have unleashed. It is the soldiers who are sent to fight, who bear the emotional and physical scars of conflict. The choice to engage in war is a choice made in the corridors of power, and those who suffer the most are those who had no voice in the decision.

Thus, the lesson we must take away is clear: in times of conflict, we must be vigilant and aware of who holds the power to make decisions. It is easy to fall into the trap of believing that wars are fought for noble causes, for the protection of one’s land or people. But often, it is the ambitions of a few politicians, driven by pride, greed, or fear, that lead to war. As citizens, we must not blindly follow the orders of those in power. We must question, challenge, and demand that war be the last option, not the first. We must ensure that the voices of those who will bear the greatest burdens—the soldiers, the families, the innocents—are heard in the decisions of power.

In your own life, be mindful of the power of those who make decisions that affect the lives of others. Whether in politics, in business, or in personal relationships, recognize the responsibility that comes with the ability to influence others. Choose wisdom over pride, compassion over greed, and let your actions be guided by the well-being of those who will follow, not by personal gain. Let Westmoreland’s warning serve as a reminder: the burden of war is not borne by the decision-makers but by those who are called to fight. It is our duty to ensure that those decisions are made wisely, justly, and with the utmost care.