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The War Prayer

© Mark Twain

I wrote an article back in October, 2001 focusing on my thoughts and opinions about what was then still a new war on terrorism.

New war clouds are darkening today's horizon, and as I said in my previous article, the short story "The War Prayer", is still one of the finest pieces of writing that reflects many of my own thoughts and feelings on where we are this instant, and the justifications that have been bandied about to begin the invasion of Iraq.

Twain authored this story in response to America's military involvement in the Philippines at the end of the 19th century. But great writing is timeless, and once was topical can become so again. I feel the time is exactly right to think about this potential invasion of one sovereign nation by another in plain old human terms.

No matter what goals the politicians and war planners might have, noble or less so, said and unsaid, the end result of war is the destruction of human lives, human dreams, and futures that can never be returned. No matter what political, economic or philosphical side you are on, this can never be forgotten for an instant.

The War Prayer By Mark Twain

It was a time of great exulting and excitement. The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and sputtering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory which stirred the deepest depths of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while; in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles, beseeching His aid in our good cause in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener. It was indeed a glad and gracious time, and the half dozen rash spirits that ventured to disapprove of the war and cast doubt upon its righteousness straight way got such a stern and angry warning that for their personal safety's sake they quickly shrank out of sight and offended no more in that way.

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