We can't allow any war for imperialism or greed to be fought in
We can't allow any war for imperialism or greed to be fought in our names. This is what we need to keep fighting for.
Hear the anguished yet resolute cry of Cindy Sheehan, a mother turned messenger of truth, who declared: “We can’t allow any war for imperialism or greed to be fought in our names. This is what we need to keep fighting for.” These words are drenched in sorrow, born of personal loss, yet lifted with defiance. They remind us that wars, when born not of necessity but of ambition, are crimes not only against the slain but against the living, who must carry their shame. Sheehan speaks with the authority of one whose own child was taken by war, and thus her words strike like thunder against the conscience of a nation.
The origin of this quote lies in the early years of the Iraq War. Cindy Sheehan’s son, Casey, a U.S. Army specialist, was killed in combat in 2004. Grief-stricken yet unyielding, she became a voice of protest, standing outside the halls of power and demanding accountability from leaders who had launched the war under claims later revealed to be hollow. For her, the blood of her son was too sacred to be sacrificed on the altar of imperialism or greed. And so, her words became a torch for all who believed that the war had been fought under false pretenses.
The meaning of Sheehan’s warning is timeless. She proclaims that war must never be waged for conquest, for resources, or for the pride of rulers. When fought for such purposes, war becomes theft on the grandest scale, cloaked in the language of patriotism but driven by the hunger of empires and profiteers. She insists that ordinary people, in whose names such wars are declared, must resist, for silence is complicity. To permit war without cause is to allow the lives of sons and daughters to be spent like coins in the marketplace of greed.
Consider the story of the Vietnam War, where countless young Americans were sent to fight in jungles far from home, while leaders spoke of containing communism. Decades later, many questioned whether the war had truly served freedom, or whether it had been prolonged by ambition, pride, and profit. The protests of that era—students in the streets, veterans discarding their medals, families grieving their fallen—echo in Sheehan’s own stand. Both moments remind us that the people must speak, lest they be used as pawns in wars they did not choose.
Her words also reveal a paradox: that even in grief, one may choose resistance. Though her son was lost, Sheehan transformed her mourning into movement, refusing to let his death be used to sanctify further killing. Here lies a profound truth: that the courage to resist imperial wars is not born only of politics, but of love—love for children, for neighbors, for strangers across the sea whose lives are equally sacred. To fight against greed-driven war is, at its heart, to fight for the dignity of every human life.
The lesson for us is this: vigilance is our sacred duty. Leaders will always find noble words to dress ignoble ambitions. They will speak of security, of liberation, of destiny—while behind these veils may lie the lust for resources, for power, for empire. It falls to the people to pierce these illusions, to demand truth before blood is shed, and to refuse to lend their names to wars that serve only the appetites of the few.
What, then, must we do? We must raise our voices, as Sheehan did, even when it is difficult, even when it is lonely. We must stand beside those who resist, support movements for peace, and question with courage when calls for war arise. In our daily lives, we must teach the young that patriotism is not blind obedience, but the bravery to defend justice and to reject injustice, even when it comes clothed in our nation’s flag.
Therefore, let Cindy Sheehan’s words echo through the ages: we must not allow wars of imperialism or greed to be fought in our names. Let us honor the fallen not by repeating the errors that claimed them, but by building a world where their sacrifice compels us toward peace. For the truest battle of our time is not fought with guns abroad, but with truth at home—the battle to keep our consciences free from the stain of unjust war.
CNTan Chuong Nguyen
This quote resonates with me as a call for moral courage. It’s easy to condemn war in theory, but harder to challenge it when it’s wrapped in patriotic language or promises of safety. I’d like to ask: what practical steps can citizens take to prevent their governments from engaging in wars of greed? Awareness alone isn’t enough — there has to be organized action.
UNUyen Nguyen
I find this quote both empowering and sobering. It reminds us that the fight against imperialism isn’t just about opposing wars, but about resisting the mindset that justifies them. Yet I wonder how sustainable that resistance is when economic and political systems are built on exploitation. Can peace really exist in a world still structured around profit and dominance?
NMDoan Thi Ngoc Minh
I completely agree with the sentiment here, but it raises a tough question — what happens when refusing to fight also means allowing injustice elsewhere to continue? Can there ever be a morally acceptable war, or are all wars ultimately driven by self-interest? This quote forces me to think about where the line between moral defense and imperial aggression truly lies.
THThu Hang
This statement hits hard in today’s world, where wars are often justified by vague ideals but driven by hidden agendas. It makes me question: how do we, as global citizens, tell the difference between defending freedom and serving greed? Maybe the first step is demanding transparency and refusing to accept simplified, one-sided narratives from those in power.
DCDuongna Cao
What strikes me most here is the idea of responsibility — that wars fought for greed or imperialism aren’t just the fault of leaders, but of societies that allow them. I wonder, though, how can people effectively resist these wars when propaganda, nationalism, and economic interests are so strong? It’s inspiring but also daunting to think about what ‘fighting in our names’ really means.