Those who live by the sword, warned Jesus, will die by the sword.
Warmongers, in other words, ultimately wound themselves. That is what the psalmist prayed for: ‘Let evil recoil on those who slander me’ (Ps. 54:5).
The past century illustrates how tragically true that insight has been, culminating in Ukraine, Gaza and Iran today.
During an emergency UN security council meeting this week, the Ukrainian ambassador warned his Russian counterpart that Russia was now experiencing ‘the boomerang of the war launched by Putin against Ukraine.’ He said the violence Russia had unleashed was ‘returning with triple force and striking with painful precision the very hand that set it in motion.’
Putin’s four-day victory plans over Kyiv have stretched to a four-year-plus disaster, damaging Russia militarily, economically, demographically, diplomatically and psychologically. They have expanded NATO and bolstered Ukrainian national identity and military prowess.
War-wagers over the past hundred years may have achieved short-term military gains but not the lasting peace, security or empire they envisioned. More often, the violence they unleashed returned upon their own societies politically, economically, morally or spiritually.
Unhealed wounds
Adolf Hitler conquered much of Europe in pursuit of a thousand-year Reich. Instead, Germany was devastated, divided and morally disgraced. Millions died in the catastrophe he unleashed.
Joseph Stalin emerged victorious and expanded Soviet power across Eastern Europe. Yet the empire built through force and fear eventually collapsed under its own weight.
Kim Il Sung invaded South Korea hoping to unify the peninsula. After immense bloodshed, Korea remained divided exactly as before.
Mainly under Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon, the Vietnam War clearly revealed that immense violence failed to achieve the central strategic goal for which it was fought.
Saddam Hussein sought regional dominance through war against Iran and Kuwait. The result was Iraq’s ruin and the destruction of his regime.
George W. Bush’s ‘shock and awe’ launch of the Iraq War aimed to eliminate (non-existent) stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction and reshape the Middle East. Saddam Hussein fell, but the war destabilised the region, fuelled extremism, and left unhealed wounds.
The same unresolved questions facing Vladimir Putin now surround the wars chosen by Bibi Netanyahu and Donald Trump in Gaza, Lebanon, and Iran. Their shared contempt for Article 2(4) of the UN Charter gravely threatens world peace: (that) All members shall refrain in their international relations from the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state.
After the October 7 attacks by Hamas, Israel launched a massive military campaign aimed at destroying Hamas and ensuring such attacks could never happen again. Yet Hamas has not disappeared. Gaza has endured catastrophic destruction, vast civilian suffering, deep international polarisation and a new generation shaped by trauma and anger. In Lebanon, Israel has damaged but not eliminated Hezbollah. Instability hangs over both Lebanon and Israel.
In Iran, Trump’s strikes and pressure campaigns sought to cripple Iranian ambitions and weaken its regional influence. They may have delayed Iran’s capabilities, but have also intensified Iranian nationalism and resistance. Trump’s best deal now is to return things to where they were before he attacked: re-open the Strait, lift the blockade and resume nuclear talks.
Again and again the same paradox is revealed: military force can destroy enemies, but rarely the deeper fears, identities, grievances or ideologies that gave rise to conflict in the first place. Indeed, war often strengthens them.
Blunt instrument
Nations may win battles and yet lose moral authority. Leaders may achieve tactical victories while sowing the seeds of future instability. Violence intended to secure peace can instead create cycles of revenge and radicalisation that endure for generations.
Yes, nations have a right to defend themselves. States do face real threats and evil can sometimes only be resisted by force. But the lesson is clear: war is a profoundly blunt instrument for creating justice, reconciliation or lasting order.
The ancient Athenian historian Thucydides observed that wars begin because of fear, pride and greed, but once unleashed they take on a momentum beyond the control of those who started them.
The biblical prophets echoed similar themes. Isaiah, Micah, Jeremiah and Habakkuk all warned that pride blinds nations; fear drives escalation; military power creates illusions of control; violence spreads beyond its original intention; injustice corrodes societies internally; and empires often collapse from the very forces they unleash.
The prophets rarely flattered kings. To rulers tempted by nationalism, militarism, self-glorification or the intoxication of power, they insisted that military success was not the same as righteousness; national greatness was hollow without justice; and the suffering of ordinary people mattered more than the vanity of rulers.
Isaiah urged swords to be beaten into ploughshares. Micah saw a day when ‘nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.’
The prophets still speak profoundly to our own age.
Till next week,
