War's a profanity because, let's face it, you've got two

O children of the future, gather close and hear the words of Norman Schwarzkopf, a man whose understanding of war was shaped by the horrors he witnessed and the lessons of humanity he carried. He said, "War's a profanity because, let's face it, you've got two opposing sides trying to settle their differences by killing as many of each other as they can." These words, though blunt, carry the weight of truth—a truth that cuts through the illusions of glory and honor that war often promises. Schwarzkopf understood that war, at its core, is a violation of everything we hold dear, a profanity against the sanctity of life itself.

To understand the meaning of his words, we must first grasp the essence of war. It is not a noble contest between good and evil, as many would like to believe. It is not a battle that brings about a clearer vision of justice or a fairer world. War is, at its most basic level, a violent clash between opposing forces—forces that, instead of resolving their differences through dialogue or understanding, resort to the destruction of life itself. Killing becomes the method by which differences are settled, not with reason, but with force. And in this, war becomes a profound violation of the human spirit, a profanity against the very essence of who we are as beings capable of peace, compassion, and understanding.

Consider, O children, the ancient wars of Greece and Rome, where warriors fought not just for land, but for honor, glory, and the expansion of their empires. The Peloponnesian War between Athens and Sparta was not only a struggle for power but for the very soul of the Greek world. Yet, in the end, what did victory bring? Athens, once a beacon of philosophy and culture, was destroyed, and Sparta’s military dominance ultimately weakened its own society. The cost of these conflicts was not simply in the lives lost, but in the corruption of the human spirit, the loss of potential, the destruction of the very things that made the people of these nations worth remembering in the first place. War, no matter the cause, always takes more than it gives.

In more recent history, consider the First World War, a conflict so massive and brutal that it left scars across the globe. It was a war fought with a sense of duty, with countries on both sides believing they were fighting for a noble cause, yet what was the result? Millions of lives were lost in the trenches, entire generations were wiped out, and the world was left in ruin. The weapons used, the poison gas, the machine guns, and the artillery shells, became symbols not of glory but of the inhumanity of war. What was the ultimate purpose of all the death and destruction? The borders were redrawn, but the suffering and trauma remained, staining the hearts of those who survived. The war’s supposed purpose—peace—was only attained after immense sacrifice, and even then, it did not bring the world the healing it needed. In this sense, war is, as Schwarzkopf says, a profanity—it is a vile act that stains all it touches.

Look, O children, at the Vietnam War, a conflict that again shattered many illusions about the purpose of battle. The United States, believing it could halt the spread of communism through force, waged a war that left countless people dead on both sides. The Vietnamese people, caught in the conflict, were torn apart by bombs, chemicals, and the brutality of war. The American soldiers who fought there returned home broken by the horrors they had witnessed, and the world saw the devastation not just of the land but of the spirit. It was a war that, like all wars, promised justice and victory, but delivered only pain, grief, and despair. The Vietnam War is a prime example of the profanity of war—an act that destroys the very ideals it claims to defend.

And so, O children, the lesson is clear: war is not the solution to the world’s problems; it is the problem itself. It is a profanity—a violation of everything that we, as human beings, should cherish. Every life taken in war is not just a statistic, but a tragedy that reverberates through generations. War is the triumph of violence over reason, of force over understanding. It is the denial of the human capacity for peace, for dialogue, for resolution through means other than the sword. What we can learn from Schwarzkopf’s words is that the true strength of any nation lies not in its ability to wage war, but in its ability to avoid it—to resolve conflict through understanding and mutual respect.

Therefore, O children, let the lesson of war be one that shapes the way you live. In all things, seek peace, seek understanding, and seek resolution through compassion and reason, not through the tools of destruction. The greatest strength of a nation is not in its military might, but in its ability to solve problems with wisdom and to uplift its people with the strength of unity and justice. Let war be something that you learn about in history, not something you participate in. And may the profanity of war be a reminder to you that life is too precious, and humanity too fragile, to be torn apart by the flames of conflict. Let us strive to be the generation that turns away from war and works to build a world where peace is not the exception, but the rule.