November 2021
We asked our writers to reflect on the history of Veteran's Day and how it has changed for Armistice Day celebrating the end of the war to end all wars.
True pacifism has never been tried
Jack Daly
Class of 2025
The scenes of World War One need no introduction. The images of the British Tommies climbing from their trenches to near certain death on the muddy, shelled-out fields of Flanders are indelibly etched into the Western mind. It was, of course, the most devastating event the world had yet seen, and the peace for which so many longed did not follow. As the anniversary of the war’s end quickly approaches, it would be wise for Americans to remember our past and future conflicts that manifest in wars, such as the one from over a century ago, and how they will remain a part of human history, so long as there is human history.
During the First World War, many people, especially among the Allies, adopted a millenarian outlook on the conflict. It was a call to action, which at last pulled the European elite from the prevailing ennui. One of these excited intellectuals was British author H. G. Wells, who is responsible for perhaps the biggest misnomer in history. Hoping to invigorate national morale, he famously dubbed the struggle, "The war that will end all other wars." This title gained a popularity that Wells could have never imagined, even being repeated by U.S. President, and progressive visionary Woodrow Wilson as he outlined his plan for a lasting peace. It was an expression of the hope that civilization could emerge from the war changed, and free of that age old horror.
Change certainly came, and brought with it the machine gun, artillery bombardment, and poison gas, as well as the old hardships attendant to war: cold, disease, and hunger. But the most dramatic change was the change in the soldiers’ attitudes. The Roman poet Horace had said, "It is sweet and fitting to die for the homeland," but when the poet Wilfred Owen reflected on the suffering and death of a comrade, the antique motto was no more than "The Old Lie." To men like Owen, the tradition of exalting those who had served heroically was simply how the foolish perpetuated the deaths of the na've.
The post-war intelligentsia reflected this exasperation in their new, and not all together glorious, ways of thinking about life and art. They had no will to fight, and could see no reason for fighting. It was insisted that peace had been achieved. Violence dragged on in Central Europe; they must have not gotten the memo. Millions died in the USSR. Surely peace would continue. Storm clouds gathered in Italy and Germany. Never again should there be a battle like Verdun, like the Somme!
It goes without saying that war is a temperamental subject, and so, feeling that the opinion of a callow writer might be inadequate for a topic of such gravitas, I reached out to a couple of Mount-community members I know who are directly tied to the matter.
My great-uncle, Fr. Jerome Daly is a graduate of the seminary on campus, but before his call to the priesthood, he served as a Lieutenant Colonel in the Vietnam War. Like the First World War, Vietnam has become known for the various social movements that surrounded it which called for peace, even on the enemy’s terms, and the reimagining of society.
Fr. Daly, however, is of a different persuasion than the anti-war protesters, saying that he views his time in the military, "very well." In response to my asking for his outlook on war, he replied that it is necessary: "as a last resort, when diplomacy fails, as it often does." He said further that the public’s tendency to swing between isolationism, and calls for action following attacks is nothing new, and that while everyone has a right to their opinions, combat is something that the civilian population generally does not understand. Speaking on the prospect of future conflicts, he remarked that war is not inevitable but takes morals to avoid.
The Mount also has a robust Reserve Officer Training Corps program, through which many students train diligently as they are shaped into new officers. Among them is Lorenzo DiVentura, who I had the pleasure of sitting down with in order to discuss the perspective of those in his station.
When I asked what had drawn him to the military, Lorenzo stated that it was something he’s always wanted to do, a sentiment not unlike the throb of the heart ancient poets sang of, which calls a young man to war. Speaking of the likelihood of conflict in the near future, the cadet said that he "can’t help but see it on the horizon," and yet even in light of recent complications, he is confident in the country’s ability to wage war as the geopolitical focus shifts to "peer threats."
Though war has remained, the nation can take heart in the knowledge that the character of the American fighting man has remained just as well. In both conversations I had, there was a remarkable similarity. Both the men cited international struggles as being an incurable part of human nature, something which can be traced back to the fall of man, from Eden. There remains a strong determined idea that war, with all its horrors, can be used to keep evil in check.
Today, people are still craving change, for the old devil, war, has remained in all his new and adapted ferocity. Many today would still insist that peace is simple. They say that if we stop fighting, our enemies will stop fighting, that no one actually wants to go to war, and so if we only sufficiently curb our aggression, peace is guaranteed. Even as reports of the terror and barbaric cruelty unleashed in Afghanistan after our withdrawal surfaced, countless believed peace had finally been secured, as though we are the only country that has ambitions, and the others merely react to the upsets we cause in the world.
Winston Churchill aptly summarized the folly of present-day pacifists when he said of those in his own day seeking to appease the ambitions of Adolpf Hitler: "You were given the choice between war and dishonor. You chose dishonor and you will have war."
Read other articles by Jack Daly
Once a hopeful world
Claire Doll
Class of 2024
I sit at my school desk, gripping my glittery mechanical pencil as my social studies teacher asks one of the most common philosophical questions one could ask (too philosophical for a fifth grader, in my opinion). In her high-pitched voice, she says, "If you had one wish, what would it be?"
It was a gut feeling, my answer to this question. I wrote the two words down in the corner of my notebook: "world peace." While other students responded with material things, things only they would benefit from, I contemplated the hopeful idea of harmony among countries, of wars ending and a feeling of kinship binding humanity together. After all, growing up in a post 9/11 world, I viewed violence as images flickering on a TV screen in my kitchen as I ate dinner, and I viewed war as something constantly threaded throughout our past and present. Because of this, I inevitably, and sadly enough, viewed "world peace" as a utopia, as hopeless, and as my teacher said, a wish.
But there was once a time that humanity hoped for, and somewhat attained, a warless world. When given the opportunity to research Armistice Day, the 11th of November in 1918 when an agreement was reached to stop fighting between Germany and the Allies in World War One, I couldn’t help but find the idea of it so funny. It was funny in a sad way, in the kind of way you laugh about something tragic in order to lighten the mood, or in the kind of way your heart recognizes and lets in that familiar feeling of terror you know all too well. Maybe I found it amusing because World War One was supposed to be "the war that ended all wars," as if for the rest of time, our world would be united by peace, would be a harmonious humanity founded upon accord. Perhaps if those troops who praised the ending of World War One were to see our society today, see the bloodshed of the second World War, see the tension of the Cold War, see the terrorist attacks
threatening our own nation, they’d be shocked that their dream of a warless utopia would remain only that – a dream. Or maybe I found it amusing because I have normalized war. Much like our innate characteristics of curiosity, belonging, and empathy, conflict and rivalry have been equally universalized as something that humans simply do.
Yet is it natural for humans to have conflict? Many would respond with yes, stating how our differences are responsible for both the beautiful diversity as well as the disagreements of our world. Upon researching more information about Armistice Day, I learned how rather than a surrender, it was more of a negotiation, a method of attaining peace and ending war. How simple it must be, I thought, to come to terms like this. How simple must it be to place our differences aside and pursue such hilarious spirits of joy and hope that war is truly over. In my own opinion, conflict is natural; war is how we choose to manage conflict, and violence is often the way we pursue this.
As Plato says, "People regard the same things, some as just and others as unjust – about these they dispute; and so there arise wars and fights among them." Solely from a philosophical perspective, it is important to recognize that everything existing externally from us is the same; it is the way we perceive these things, if they are just or unjust, good or bad, that brings about war. To be able to acknowledge these differences and still arrive at a peaceful agreement is profound, but to assume that World War One would be the "war to end all wars" is hopeful and, from a present-day perspective, na've. I can imagine the sorrow that would be felt later on when World War Two and other conflicts arose. I can imagine the hurt, the failed promise of peace, the little children who were scarred with the everlastingness of war, like today’s children, who see these images of violence and instinctively know it as such.
November 11th is now Veteran’s Day. We celebrate the bravery, the courage, the boldness of those who are so willing to serve our country in the wars we choose to fight. Perhaps we have given up any hope that Armistice Day had to offer, and perhaps we have accepted a violent world so much that we have changed the 11th of November to support those who continuously fight our wars. Or maybe, perhaps it is all in our humanity, the nature of conflict. Perhaps Plato is right as to why wars occur, and perhaps world peace is truly just a pipe dream.
So why would my fifth-grade schoolteacher give me an assignment that encouraged me to wish for world peace? Why would she inspire my spirits, lend me hope that harmony and grace among others are possible? Asking this means we ask anyone why they dream. If I could go back in time and live through those joyous spirits present on November 11th, 1918 – if I could experience that abounding relief, that intensity of optimism – I would ask the soldiers why they dreamed for world peace. I would ask why they faithfully believed World War One would be the last war we’d ever fight. I would ask how the armistice ended their misery, how they lived with such joy in times where it was desperately needed. And I would ask them how to live with that hope constantly, how I can look at our world today – our world of violence and war in Afghanistan and threats of terrorism and political turmoil – and know deep down that everything will be okay.
As that innocent little fifth grader gripping her glittery pencil, I knew nothing about Armistice Day, but I could still imagine the hope of peace blossoming in the world. This is because sitting at my desk, I felt that same feeling while writing down my wish for the world. Perhaps one day, we will attain this. But for now, November 11th is a day of remembrance, honor, and respect for those who are brave and courageous enough to fight our continuous wars.
Read other articles by Claire Doll
In vain
Emmy Jansen
MSMU Class of 2023
I like war. I’m actually a practical pacifist and by nature drawn to the mitigations of conflicts, but in reality, I enjoy studying war from a historical and humanitarian perspective. War is nothing but conflict and conflict is nothing more than a misunderstanding or disorder of human needs and desires. I realize this description describes heavy emotional events and seems to minimize them to a mere disagreement; that is not my intention. The gravity of war, the bleak human condition it envelops, and the violent suffering of victims and survivors should never be understated. But it is this fact that even the smallest disordering of the human heart and mind can cause such grave suffering that ignites my academic interests.
I should specify that I major in Conflict, Peace, and Social Justice at the Mount so my interest and knowledge of the subject do not manifest immaterially. Seasoned readers of mine will know I bring up my childhood in Richmond often because it had a strong influence on the way I view war, history, and violence. At the risk of boring those readers, I will mention it again. Perhaps Gettysburg natives will also share this same viewpoint.
I’m not sure what the outside perspective of Richmond, Virginia consists of, but I imagine it may involve the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, removal of statues, Civil Rights protests, and potentially some recent gubernatorial scandals. If it doesn’t, and you’re a curious mind, I recommend delving into the history and significance of the city. The Civil War has been given a lot of press in recent years for the unjust and racist values it involved, and this should continue. However, we are not taught in our history classes just how devastating this war was as a war itself. More Americans died in the Civil War than in World War I and World War II combined. I would like you to read that statement again. So, when we talk about Armistice Day, or now Veterans Day, on November 11th, my first thought is not of the War to End All Wars or European battlefields. I think of the more than 2% of the nation’s population that died in those four years in
our own backyard.
I won’t engage in a debate on what brought the nation to war, but we know it involved money, power, state identity, and racism. We all want money, at least enough to live comfortably upon. We all want a degree of power, enough to prevent being taken advantage of or manipulated. We identify, to a degree, with the localities that formed us. We can never fully understand the lived experiences of other people regardless of what their differences are. Yet, I would imagine most of us would not be willing to kill our neighbors to protect these ideals. Moreover, I imagine we wouldn’t be willing to die for them.
So why do we? My experience in working in teams and project planning has shown me how hard it can be to get a group of people all moving in the same direction. I cannot get five people to agree on something; the Civil War got more than 600,000 people to agree that these ideals were worth dying for. Is it any wonder that we still feel the effects of this today? War, and what drives humans to it, is a powerful force which turns deadly, destructive, and demolishes everything in its path. I don’t wonder why Richmond still harbors the tensions of the Civil War; I just wonder when it will end.
But war isn’t always battlefield combat. Even during peace time, we’ve always been at war: on terror, on drugs, on poverty, and on crime. I realize that these are structurally different than stereotypical wars, as in the first half of the twentieth century. However, I have never lived in a world where we were not at war.
I refuse to believe that having this term engrained into our society has no impact on us. It has the utmost impact on us. To be at war means that there is an enemy. To have an enemy means there is someone in opposition to our ideals, an "other" category. An "other" category creates the mindset that this fundamental opposition represents inferiority or superiority. These could be based on money, power, state identity, racism, and other ideals. Do cycles end the same way they began? No, they continue unceasingly.
Consolidating social issues into militaristic battles is not the sole method of mediation. It puts it into terms of failure and success, winning and losing, with a clear end in sight. When you help someone, you have not failed. Saving people from militant destruction, subhuman living conditions, life threatening addictions, and criminal violence is never a failure. There are always losses with war; I would like to think of social efforts in terms of gains. How many lives can we save instead of losing? How much can we build up instead of breaking down? What more can we give instead of taking away? This is the "war" effort I would like to ascribe to.
I still believe that serving in the military is one of the noblest professions in existence. Veterans deserve our respect and appreciation for all that they sacrifice and stand to protect. This admiration should not be allocated only to the Big Three: Memorial Day, Fourth of July, and Veterans Day. Thanking our veterans and soldiers should never end. There is no shame in dying for what you believe in, but martyrdom should not come with further destruction, desolation, and violence. These dead, in all wars past and present, should not have died in vain, with further battles being waged in the same wars they fought.
I dream of a world without terror, drugs, crime, and poverty. I would like a world for all of us free from oppression, violence, and greed. But most of all, I want to live in a world without war.
Read other articles by Emmy Jansenl
So gallantly streaming
Harry Scherer
Class of 2022
At the beginning of the fourth stanza of Francis Scott Key’s "Star Spangled Banner," the poet references war for the second time in the work. He says, "O thus be it ever when freemen shall stand / Between their lov’d home and the war’s desolation!"
This powerful line comes at the climax of the ballad. Key mentions the unmentionable, the dreaded topic of violent conflict into which men so often fall. The word is broached, though, in a secure position, within the context of a valiant person looking into the distance and seeing the glorious standard waving among the rubble.
Like all effective works of poetry, the work serves as an extended metaphor. In this case, the flag is a symbol of the endurance of pious patriotism amid the challenges of civic life. Key points to a thing outside of and above himself, his fellow citizens, and even the combined group of people that together make up the social identity of his nation. For Key, the flag represents an enduring hope. Without this hope, the value of the flag would bear no value greater than its fabric.
The flag does not represent a promise or a contract, an absolute assurance of success. If we were sure of our victory or the success of our identity, the flag would not be necessary. It is because of the uncertainty that we fly the flag in the face of danger. In these times of danger, the flag serves as a reminder that the identity of our nation is not merely the sum of its parts and, at the same time, that the perpetuation of our existence rests on its member’s participation with grace. If Key is clear about one thing in his poem, it is the unreliability of human power in our own victory. The flag bears a quasi-divine presence, a reminder of the necessity of providential aid in fulfilling our own promise. Sun Tzu, for example, corroborates the necessity of trust in The Art of War. His principled reliance on trust is an acknowledgement of reality; the possibility of death in battle strikes at the core of the uncertainty of its success. In
this way, uncertainty in battle seems to be a symptom of the uncertainty of death.
The pregnant symbolism of the flag, though, is only possible through its own matter: seven horizontal red lines, six horizontal white lines, interrupted in the northwest corner by a blue rectangle filled with fifty white stars. According to State Symbols USA, a site dedicated to cataloging the symbolic heritage of the States, the red in the flag symbolizes valor and bravery, the white symbolizes purity and innocence, and the blue symbolizes vigilance, perseverance, and justice. These values are positive descriptions of any virtuous person and, by extension, any virtuous nation. In addition to the descriptive element, though, the flag suggests certain responsibilities that accompany the rights afforded to its citizens. Without these responsibilities, the rights would be insecure and fickle, varying from time to time and place to place.
Different citizens respond to these responsibilities in different ways, in line with their position and status. Those who respond to their nation in the most serious way, in the way that requires the most skin in the game, join the military and sacrifice themselves, their future, and their families for the sake of a greater project. This sacrifice puts some in the situation to offer the ultimate sacrifice, a rejection of self that demands honor and gratitude from the entire nation. Some are not called to this same level of service, but instead dedicate themselves to their nation through their civic institutions, families, and work.
For both those who are preparing to give of themselves through military service and those ready to sacrifice themselves through more a more accessible method, the three colors of the banner can serve as a tool to remember the what, why, and how of their sacrifice. The red of the flag, the same color as the blood of their forefathers in battle, the "what" of their sacrifice, reminds them that their national offering is valorous and brave. In this sense, they give of themselves in an unrelenting manner, regardless of the consequences of life and limb.
The white, alternating with the courageous and bright red, reminds them of the "why." Those who gave of themselves in the Revolutionary War, Civil War, both World Wars, and all the other military engagements of the past few centuries were fighting in pursuit of the preservation of the purity and innocence of their nation. Our national project is admittedly a young one. The so-called "American experiment" is just that: a test of ideas against the persistent model of reality. Sacrifice in battle is a kind of defense of the innocent uncertainty of the success of the American enterprise. On the level of the person, military courage is a defense of the most cherished members of our nation: our women and children.
Finally, the blue reminds us of the "how" of national service. Our source suggests that the blue in the flag is to symbolize vigilance, perseverance, and justice. If military service does not conduct itself in this manner, where is the merit? In this way, the blue is the most demanding color of the flag because it requires not just that service take place, but it requires its method. In other words, the blue hid in the corner of the flag reminds the servicemember that he must not just give but give well. In this way, the value of military service is elevated; the military must do the right things for the right reasons.
When we remember Armistice Day on the 11th of this month, we commemorate a group of men who were relentless in their courageous pursuit of national innocence. This group gazed at the flag with admiration and devotion, seeking its presence and aware of its symbolism. The flag, as Key knew very well, was a reference to the glory of the American nation and the pain of war’s separation from it.
Read other articles by Harry Scherer
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