Wars are not acts of God. They are caused by man, by man-made

Hear the solemn words of Frederick M. Vinson, once Chief Justice of the United States, who declared: “Wars are not acts of God. They are caused by man, by man-made institutions, by the way in which man has organized his society. What man has made, man can change.” These words strike like a hammer upon stone, shattering the falsehood that war is destiny, that bloodshed is written in the stars. Vinson reminds us that conflict is not born of heaven’s decree, but of human choice, human pride, human error. And if wars are made by man, then it is within man’s power to unmake them.

The ancients often believed that the gods themselves unleashed war. Homer sang of the wrath of Achilles stirred by divine hands, and many cultures sought to justify violence as divine will. But Vinson pierces through such myths, declaring that war arises not from Olympus, but from human ambition, greed, fear, and hatred. It is the flawed design of institutions, the corruption of rulers, and the broken bonds of society that lead nations into battle. If the gods are blamed, it is only to ease the conscience of men who refuse to take responsibility for their own deeds.

History bears witness to this truth. The First World War was not a thunderbolt hurled by heaven, but the fruit of alliances entangled, national pride inflamed, and leaders blind to the cost of their choices. A single bullet in Sarajevo, fired by the hand of man, set fire to a continent because of the fragile structures and rivalries men themselves had built. And when the carnage was done, nearly a generation lay buried. This was no act of God—it was a tragedy authored by man-made institutions.

Yet Vinson speaks also of hope: “What man has made, man can change.” Consider the peace forged after the Second World War. Scarred by devastation, nations sought to build institutions—the United Nations, treaties, and alliances—to prevent the same horrors from recurring. Though imperfect, these efforts showed that if man can organize society toward destruction, he can also organize it toward peace. War may be humanity’s creation, but so too can peace be humanity’s triumph.

O seeker of wisdom, take this lesson deep into your soul: never believe that violence is inevitable, or that hatred is destiny. To think war is fated is to surrender before the battle for peace has begun. Instead, understand that every war is built—step by step, law by law, speech by speech. And if it is built, it can be dismantled. The same hands that forge swords can forge plowshares, the same minds that plan conquest can plan reconciliation.

Let your spirit be courageous in this work. Do not shrug at the cruelty of nations as though it were beyond your reach. Remember that society is shaped not only by rulers, but by the countless voices of its people. If enough hands reach for peace, the institutions of war will crumble. Challenge leaders who thirst for blood. Support movements that heal divisions. Teach the young not to glorify destruction, but to honor the builders and peacemakers.

In practice, begin with the soil nearest your feet. Sow peace in your home, your community, your nation. Speak against injustice, for silence feeds conflict. Work to reform the systems that breed inequality and resentment, for such wounds often fester into strife. Support leaders who seek dialogue over domination. In doing so, you take part in the great labor Vinson proclaimed: to change what man has made, and to turn the engines of war into the pillars of peace.

So I say unto you: remember Vinson’s words. Wars are not decreed by heaven, but shaped by the hands of men. If they are made by us, they can be unmade by us. Let this truth give you strength, that you may never surrender to despair, but labor always for the better order of society. For as surely as men once built war, so too can men build peace—and in that work lies the hope of the world.