The United States is a republic forged by war; its founding document lists grievances against a king for quartering troops and waging war without consent. Yet modern Americans often cheer the latest intervention with little reflection on history or morality. The Maduro raid reveals a people quick to salute and slow to question. When the mission inevitably drags on – when Venezuelan insurgents form, when American soldiers begin to die, when prices spike – support will erode, and we will wonder how we were fooled again. If there is any hope of change, it lies in confronting the ugly truth that our love of war is a form of idolatry. Only by remembering past disasters, valuing human life above geopolitical vanity, and reclaiming the church’s prophetic voice can America break its addiction to war.
Alan Mosley | Jan 5, 2026
When the Trump administration ordered special‑operations forces to seize Venezuelan president Nicolás Maduro and his wife on January 3, 2026, electricity failed across Caracas and airfields filled with U.S. aircraft. The Venezuelan leader was spirited to New York to face an indictment on drug charges while President Trump pledged that the United States would “run” Venezuela until a safe transition could be arranged. He offered “boots on the ground” if necessary and invoked the Monroe Doctrine to justify an operation condemned as a violation of sovereignty. Within hours, social media feeds filled with profile pictures draped in the Stars and Stripes and statements like “FAFO.” The mission’s execution and talk of “restoring democracy” tapped a familiar chord in the American psyche. The reactions to this raid highlight an ugly truth about the United States: Americans love war. They do not like higher taxes, a debased currency, or flag‑draped coffins, but they love war. And our short memory ensures we will learn nothing from the disasters we have created.
A pattern of initial enthusiasm
After nearly every U.S. military intervention since World War II, public opinion has followed the same trajectory: overwhelming support when the bombs first fall, then waning approval once casualties mount and victory proves elusive. Just before the 2003 invasion of Iraq, Gallup polls found 59 percent of Americans favored sending troops to remove Saddam Hussein while 37 percent opposed it. Pew Research surveys that spring reported that 77 percent believed the United States made the right decision to use force. Support for President Bush’s handling of the war peaked at 71 percent in the days after the televised fall of Baghdad. A comparable rally occurred in January 1991: before Operation Desert Storm, 55 percent said they favored using force to expel Iraq from Kuwait; two weeks after the bombing began, 77 percent agreed the decision was right.
The invasion of Afghanistan in October 2001 triggered even stronger approval. In the first weeks after U.S. forces toppled Taliban positions, Gallup found that 88 percent supported military action. At that moment, only about a quarter believed the campaign was going “very well,” and fewer than half believed the Taliban would be ousted or Osama bin Laden captured. For the American public, the emotional satisfaction of striking back after 9/11 outweighed prudence or realism.
Even a limited campaign like the 2011 NATO airstrikes in Libya generated a rally. A Gallup survey conducted days after U.S. aircraft began enforcing a no‑fly zone found that 47 percent approved and 37 percent disapproved of the mission. The same article noted that support for the Libya intervention was lower than for any prior campaign but still produced a majority of Americans in favor. On March 20 2023, as talk of intervening in Syria dominated cable news, polls indicated that roughly six in ten Americans favored airstrikes; fear of chemical weapons made war appear necessary. Time and again, Americans greet new conflicts with the assumption they will be short, decisive, and morally unambiguous.
This pattern extends to older conflicts that many now condemn. When Lyndon Johnson escalated U.S. involvement in Vietnam in 1965, Gallup found only 24 percent calling it a mistake; 60 percent said it was not. A plurality still supported the war in July 1967. It was not until August 1968—three and a half years into the conflict – that a majority of Americans first said Vietnam was a mistake. This suggests that the initial impulse to back intervention is so strong that even thousands of casualties cannot immediately dislodge it.
The cost of amnesia
Within months, early enthusiasm invariably fades. Gallup tracked a steep rise in Americans who believed the Iraq War was a mistake: from 23 percent in March 2003 to a majority by June 2004. Pew found that by mid‑2004, support for the war slipped below 50 percent as images of killed contractors and Abu Ghraib abuses circulated. In 2007, 61 percent opposed President Bush’s troop surge while only 31 percent supported it; by 2011, three‑quarters favored withdrawing all combat forces. Approval followed a similar arc in Afghanistan: only 6 percent said the war was a mistake in early 2002, but this rose to 25 percent by 2004 and 42 percent by 2009. Observers may recall that by the time Washington signed a withdrawal agreement with the Taliban in 2020, nearly two‑thirds of Americans favored bringing the troops home—a tacit admission of failure….
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Revisiting Foucault and the Iranian Revolution
How the trauma of the Vietnam War led to the age of “alternative facts”
Seymour Hersh on Witnessing American War Crimes in Vietnam
‘I sent them a good boy and they made him a murderer’
The Russell-Einstein Manifesto of 1955
Bertrand Russell War Crimes in Vietnam (1967)
There are 1,000 grotesque memes of J. D. Vance: they’re all more likable than the real thing
Victor Jara murder: ex-military officers sentenced in Chile for 1973 death
After the truth-shower 