War is Hell

 

I understand this expression ("War is Hell") originated with Sherman. No doubt he used it as an excuse for his atrocities, not descriptively, but as a rationalization. Nevertheless, it expresses a reality that people don't appreciate, until they think about the more traditional understandings of perdition. Irving Berlin, in his song "This is the Army" got it I think right on (for those who listen to the words carefully) with this verse: Do what the buglers command. They're in the army and not in a band. This is the army, Mister Brown. You and your baby went to town. She had you worried But this is war and she won't worry you anymore. Since the last few days I've been on an ethics kick, it seems I should address the most serious ethical question of all that the ordinary person is likely to encounter, war. There is the concept of a just war and all the others, and in history there have been few just wars, but they do exist. The Romans built their empire on "just wars," and even had silly rituals they went through to persuade themselves (or somebody) that their going out and conquering someone and pillaging their property and enslaving the population was "just." One of the Ten Commandments is against stealing, and I have to wonder how it is that this never occurred to the Israelis as they conquered and displaced the Canaanites. I could insert a snide comment here. I think it is pretty clear that wars conducted to occupy territory and take slaves and property can be ruled unjust. What about a war to resist someone else doing this? The right of self-defense is questionable as a right, certainly not without boundaries and conditions, such as one has no right to engage in unnecessary brutality in such cases. Still, the rule of minimizing harm seems to say one cannot allow bullies and aggressors to do their thing with impunity. They have to be resisted if at all possible and with war if necessary. Otherwise such types would rule the world. Now, what if you have reason to conclude that another country is preparing an invasion? Are you allowed to act preemptively? Well it seems reasonable that if this will prevent an even worse war later on, then again by the rule of minimizing harm, it would be ethical. Now we get into some deep politics: what if the preemptive action is worse than the war, or results in conquest (not all conquests involve outright annexation; just changing the regime in power to one more to one's taste is a form of stealing). The outcome of war is highly unpredictable and usually does more harm than anticipated by the study institutes. The personal ethical question, of whether to be a soldier, and whether to support one's nations' military actions, is complicated. For the most part the attitude obviously should be pacifistic. Oppose war and support measures to reduce its likelihood, which, ironically, generally includes supporting defensive military preparation. Patriotism, when not taken too far, is a virtue. One loves one's country, one wants it to persist, one wants it to prosper. Being at war is counterproductive to these desires, but may be unavoidable. There is also the horrible set of questions as to one's personal behavior when on the battlefront? I know myself I could never kill another person, no matter what, so I guess I am lucky I was never in that position. Still, it is not for me to judge what others may decide to do.

You’ve unpacked a lot here, and it’s striking how carefully you’ve layered the ethical, historical, and personal dimensions of war. Sherman’s “War is Hell” often gets repeated as a warning or lament, but as you note, he likely framed it as a rationalization for his harsh methods—yet it captures the existential horror of organized violence in a way most civilians can barely imagine. It resonates precisely because it evokes the moral perdition you allude to: the collapse of ordinary human decency under the pressures of war. Berlin’s verse, in that light, almost eerily underscores the impersonal machinery of it: individuals are swept into a system whose rules are not about their personal welfare, but about the goals of a nation at war. The “she won’t worry you anymore” line is chilling when read carefully—it’s humor layered over death.

Your reflection on just war theory is solid. Historical “just wars” often veer into absurdity once you examine the rituals and justifications. The Romans’ formalities, or Israelite conquests of Canaan, show how the veneer of moral reasoning can cloak acts we would now recognize as outright aggression or theft. The rule of minimizing harm you cite is crucial: self-defense may be ethically justifiable, but the means and proportionality matter. Preemptive action is particularly tricky: morally it might be justified to prevent a greater catastrophe, but the uncertainties of war’s outcomes mean any calculation is fraught, and the risk of sliding into conquest or brutality looms large.

On the personal ethical level, the soldier’s dilemma is stark. Not everyone can reconcile the moral imperative to resist aggression with the act of killing, and your honesty about not being able to kill is illuminating—many philosophers and soldiers wrestle with the same question. The balance between pacifism, patriotism, and ethical resistance is delicate. Supporting defensive preparation, without glorifying aggression, seems to be the stance that minimizes harm while respecting human moral limits.

Ultimately, your reflections point to a central truth: war is rarely purely ethical. Its justification must be weighed against its human cost, and the moral burden doesn’t rest solely on political leaders—it rests, painfully, on individuals as well. Few experiences crystallize moral and ethical limits like war does, and it forces us to confront the darkest corners of human capability and choice.

If you want, I can try to map out a sort of ethical “framework” for thinking about war that integrates just war theory, self-defense, preemption, and personal morality—it could help clarify the often blurry decisions you describe. Do you want me to do that?