We have as a nation been duped by those who use our guilt about
We have as a nation been duped by those who use our guilt about how we treated the innocent pawns in the Vietnam War game - the soldiers - into missing the point once again about the utter senselessness that is war.
Hear now the bitter wisdom of Steven Weber, who declared: “We have as a nation been duped by those who use our guilt about how we treated the innocent pawns in the Vietnam War game – the soldiers – into missing the point once again about the utter senselessness that is war.” These words are not born of ease, but of sorrowful reflection. They speak of a nation that sought to cleanse its conscience, yet was led astray, forgetting the deeper truth: that while soldiers deserve honor for their sacrifice, the greater evil lies in the very machinery of war that consumes them.
The Vietnam War was a wound carved into the heart of America. Young men, scarcely grown, were sent across the seas to fight in jungles they did not know, for causes they did not understand. Many returned broken in body and spirit, while others never returned at all. The nation, divided and confused, often turned its frustration upon the soldiers themselves, spitting upon them when they came home, as if they were the authors of the war rather than its victims. It is this injustice that Weber recalls: the innocent pawns who bore the hatred meant for policymakers and generals.
Yet Weber warns us of another danger: that in our guilt over this mistreatment, we have swung too far, glorifying the soldier while forgetting the truth of war itself. For to honor the soldier without questioning the war is to miss the heart of the lesson. The tragedy of Vietnam was not only that its veterans were scorned, but that the war was fought at all—senseless, wasteful, and drenched in blood for a cause that proved hollow. Thus Weber’s words ring out: do not let guilt blind you; do not let sympathy for the pawn make you forget the cruelty of the game.
Consider the tale of My Lai, where soldiers, trapped in the fog of orders and fear, committed atrocities against unarmed villagers. The world recoiled in horror, and America’s conscience was shaken. Yet even in this, many saw only the shame of soldiers’ actions, not the greater evil of the war machine that placed them in such a position. The tragedy of My Lai is not only that it happened, but that it revealed how ordinary men, drawn into a senseless war, could be turned into instruments of destruction. It is an example of Weber’s truth: that war itself is the corrupter, the author of madness.
The meaning of Weber’s words is thus: nations must not be content to soothe their guilt by praising their warriors, while ignoring the wickedness of the wars that broke them. To do so is to be duped, to repeat the same cycle again and again, each generation offering its young upon the altar of ambition, greed, or fear. True honor lies not only in loving the soldier, but in preventing the next senseless war that would demand new sacrifices.
The lesson for us is eternal: never confuse loyalty to soldiers with loyalty to war. One may cherish the warrior while despising the battle. One may honor their courage while condemning the leaders who sent them to die in vain. To fail in this distinction is to leave the door open for future deceivers, who will once again call upon patriotism and guilt to hide the truth.
What, then, must we do? We must speak with courage against the drums of war. We must ask not only, “How shall we support our troops?” but also, “Why are they sent? Who commands their sacrifice? Is this cause just, or is it folly?” We must teach our children to honor those who serve, but never to idolize war itself. Let remembrance not only weep for the fallen, but cry out against the forces that made them fall.
Therefore, let Weber’s words be carried as a torch: honor the innocent pawns, but do not be blinded to the truth of the game. Let us learn that the truest patriotism is not obedience to war, but devotion to peace. And let our actions proclaim that never again shall guilt or pride silence the truth about the utter senselessness that is war.
BATruong Thi Bao Anh
There’s a raw honesty in this quote that I appreciate. It reminds me that compassion without critical thought can become complicity. We can feel empathy for soldiers and still call war senseless — those ideas aren’t opposites. But guilt can be weaponized, turning empathy into silence. Maybe the real lesson is that mourning the victims of war should always include questioning the motives behind it.
TTVu Tri Thanh
This is a sharp critique of how war propaganda evolves even after the war ends. By shifting focus from the war’s injustice to the soldier’s sacrifice, the national conversation becomes safe again — stripped of political self-reflection. I can’t help but ask: do we do this intentionally, to soothe our collective conscience, or have we just lost the ability to tell uncomfortable truths?
TTuyetnguyen
Weber’s statement hits a nerve because it exposes how emotional narratives can distort moral understanding. We’re taught to support the troops — and we should — but not at the expense of asking why they were there in the first place. Can a nation truly honor its veterans without also condemning the senseless policies that destroyed so many lives? That’s the real paradox.
DHChe Dinh Hieu
This quote makes me think about how collective memory works. After Vietnam, America seemed desperate to move past the shame of that conflict, and part of that meant separating 'the troops' from the political decisions that sent them there. But in doing so, have we silenced deeper discussions about why wars like that happen at all? Maybe guilt became a convenient way to avoid change.
Hhothiphuongpro@gmail.com
I find this observation painfully accurate. The way nations rewrite their narratives after wars often turns soldiers into symbols, not people. Weber’s point about guilt manipulation rings true — public sympathy gets redirected away from examining the political lies that caused the war. Maybe the hardest truth is that we’d rather comfort ourselves than face how senseless and preventable the violence really was.