The history of warfare shows that conflicts end either with a clear victory by one side or through negotiations when both face the exhaustion of resources and the will to continue sacrificing lives. There is also a third way: a silent ending of hostilities, the establishment of a ‘cold peace,’ and the freezing of the conflict without an explicit acknowledgment of defeat. It is important to emphasize that wars do not begin out of the blue: they are merely the escalation of deep-seated contradictions that were not resolved through peaceful means. To quote Clausewitz, war is the continuation of politics by other, violent means. From a peace perspective, every war is a defeat not only of politics but also of common sense and civilization. Yet the era in which we live has normalized violence; humanity has even taken a ‘step forward’ by reconciling itself with, or actively supporting, systematic destruction. The international legal framework that once prohibited war has been silenced, pushed far from public view. The public either follows military operations as if they were sporting events or turns away, refusing to see, hear, or speak about evil.

The duration of the Ukraine war has already exceeded that of the First World War. The fact that, comparatively speaking, the number of casualties is framed as lower is merely a statistical illusion since this is not a world war, but a localized meat grinder. It offers no comfort to the families of those killed. Regarding this war (which began in 2014, not later), wise observers immediately stated it was the most predictable, and therefore theoretically the easiest to prevent. Once the masks fell and former Western leaders admitted that early negotiations were never conducted in good faith, but were instead a way of buying time for the peripheral state to prepare for an open confrontation, it became clear that political will for peace was entirely lacking. Responsibility for the belligerence of the authorities in the conflict zone lies with a range of figures in the imperial core (primarily, Biden and Trump). First came one political faction, then another continued the trajectory, and this has persisted until today. Even after Russia launched its special military operation, there were ways to stop it, but peace was prevented by external actors, notably the UK, intent on prolonging the conflict. The West, infused with a visceral hostility (usually named Russophobia) and intent on profiting from a proxy war where others pay the price in human lives, did not encourage a single genuine peace initiative.

Ukraine, a vast country with a large population and rich natural resources, is a military theater for which there is diminishing hope of a swift conclusion. The strategy of fighting ‘to the last Ukrainian,’ now openly pursued by NATO, is entering a new phase of escalation. The danger of a nuclear confrontation is real, although mainstream media and their experts have begun to relativize it by normalizing the idea that ‘tactical’ weapons could end the war. Hawks exist on all sides. It is as if the legendary cinematic figure Dr. Strangelove has multiplied instead of disappearing. At times, one cannot help but ask: have all of them lost their minds?

It is said that war has changed its nature, especially because of the destructive power of drones and ballistic missiles. Once again, war is proving beneficial for the development of military technology and for generating enormous profits for the military-industrial complex. Peace is unprofitable, even politically. As one critical scholar expressed succinctly, without war, there would be Zelensky. Ordinary citizens are not asked anything because elites make decisions through the lens of alleged competence, the preservation of their reputation, position, and profits. Occasional public opinion polls both in the West and Ukraine reveal a different picture, though everything depends on who asks the questions. Yet the impression remains that ordinary people do not want death. Gen Z can hardly imagine themselves in military uniforms, enduring exhausting physical activities, losing comfort, and giving up their dependence on modern technology. Surveys show that when asked whether they would defend their country in a case of war, a significant number answer positively in the abstract. But when the issue ceases to be hypothetical, a gap emerges: young people are not interested in military training or even in defending their own country. In fact, there is a clear divergence between elites and citizens, who do not want either an arms race or military obligations.

Recently, at a post-Ankara event, this issue was raised: how do you intend to support your commitment to prolonged warfare when you struggle to reach the human factor? The answers were confused and rhetorical, essentially claiming that while the human deficit is real, member states have an obligation to work on public education and on ‘societal resilience.’ This last phrase is a modern euphemism designed to avoid the real words for what is being done: deliberate intimidation, the spread of hatred, parallel militarization, and the diversion of funds from social needs toward military spending. Anyone who protests risks being labeled either a coward or a traitor who does not love their country.

Ukraine is, of course, a special case. The comparison between national polls and independent international surveys regarding attitudes toward the war shows differences too vast to be the result of a sudden shift in public opinion. Local polling institutes regularly focus on the population’s resistance, high respect for the army and rejection of compromise. But despite the clear internal purpose of these surveys, the trend is inexorable: support for military outcomes has been declining, while support for negotiations is rising (66 percent in July). The trend is clear: war fatigue and the desire for a practical solution are growing among the populace, alongside a drop in trust toward foreign leadership. In short, local polls measure determination and identity orientation, while Gallup asked a direct question: negotiations vs. continuation of combat operations.

The political implications are clear: the Kiev authorities must balance public resolve with a growing desire for compromise. Those who oppose continuing a war that has already turned vast fields into graveyards see the daily reality in video clips showing the violent and brutal ‘conscription’ taking place on the streets of cities far from the front lines. Citizens openly and massively resist the ‘cannon fodder hunters’, the Lvov case being the latest. Meanwhile, foreign allies are assisting the political leadership by cutting all benefits for the Ukrainian citizens who hold refugee status, preparing them to be sent back to the country to serve.

In the battle of narratives, it is very difficult to get an accurate picture, but the media inflames this psychological warfare with headlines claiming that newly deployed Russian soldiers last barely half an hour at the front (according to the CIA director). It is no secret that the price being paid by Russia is becoming increasingly unacceptable to its public. However, there is no question of mass forced conscription there, as the army continues to be replenished by volunteers signing state contracts for economic survival. The number of casualties and unrecovered bodies of Ukrainian soldiers suggests that headlines about the short lifespan of the opposing soldiers are likely exaggerated propaganda.

The tragedy of this war, like any other, becomes visible when one looks down at ‘ordinary mortals’. Through a human and class lens, the entire picture comes into view, mirroring what a Serbian proverb expressed long ago:

The state gives cannons, the rich give oxen, and the poor give their sons. When the war is over, the state gets its cannons back, the rich get their oxen back, and the poor are left with nothing but graves.

To put it more vividly, on the Russian side, those fighting are individuals who cannot otherwise earn a decent living, making the state’s financial offer appear attractive—a clear case of economic conscription. On the Ukrainian side, stories of untrained and forcibly conscripted young people are filled with examples of corruption, post-traumatic stress disorders that fail to prevent redeployment to the front, and brutal punishment by comrades for anyone who does not show enough courage.

If a broader European-Russian war breaks out, it will reproduce the same pattern. Every general or politician calling for ‘resilience,’ the ‘education of youth,’ and public readiness to sacrifice their sons should recognize that such demands extend the brutal class logic of warfare onto the entire continent: those who make strategic decisions are rarely those who bear the ultimate costs. The invisible, class-based reality of war—who decides, who profits, and who dies—must not be erased from public consciousness.

This article was produced by Globetrotter.\\\\\\\\Email