The Choice of the American Spirit
Fellow citizens,
We are a nation founded on the rule of law, constitutional limits on power, and a moral clarity that once led the world. Many of us, independent conservatives, veterans, and lifelong supporters of strong national defense, have backed leaders who promised to put America first, avoid endless foreign entanglements, and to restore constitutional balance. Yet today, as we watch the unfolding conflict with Iran under Operation Epic Fury (and the pattern set by earlier actions in Venezuela), a growing number of us feel deep unease. This is not about party loyalty or the infallibility of any one leader. It is about whether our nation is treading on dangerous legal and moral waters that history shows lead to isolation, weakened security, and lost credibility.
Let us speak plainly and rationally, setting aside emotion for facts grounded in the very laws and treaties we helped write and have long demanded others obey.
Under the UN Charter, ratified by the United States and the cornerstone of the post-World War II order we built, Article 2(4) prohibits the use of force against another state’s territorial integrity or political independence. The only exceptions are genuine self-defense against an actual or imminent armed attack (Article 51) or explicit UN Security Council authorization. The Department of Defense Law of War Manual (updated 2023), which reflects our own military’s interpretation of binding international law, is clear: force must be necessary, proportionate, and responsive to a real threat, not preventive action against a potential future capability. No such imminent armed attack by Iran triggered these strikes. Diplomacy was ongoing and Iran had agreed to many key concessions. No UN Security Council resolution authorized the campaign. Congressional authorization under the Constitution and War Powers Resolution was never obtained, only after-the-fact notifications. This places the operation outside the legal framework we ourselves established and have enforced against others. These uncomfortable facts place our nation, our soldiers, and our leaders in a position of legal jeopardy and worse, our nation outside of the Natural Law that we were founded on.
The Nuremberg Principles, formulated by the International Law Commission of the United Nations in 1950 and affirmed by the General Assembly after the trials of Nazi leaders, codify this standard. Principle VI explicitly defines “crimes against peace” as: (i) Planning, preparation, initiation or waging of a war of aggression or a war in violation of international treaties, agreements or assurances; (ii) Participation in a common plan or conspiracy for the accomplishment of any of the acts mentioned under (i). The Nuremberg Tribunal called aggressive war “the supreme international crime differing only from other war crimes in that it contains within itself the accumulated evil of the whole.” We prosecuted others under these very principles because they bypassed the international norms we helped create. Today, the world applies that same lens to us whether we want them to or not. Our nation is not above the law.
We have seen this pattern before. In the 2003 Iraq War, the United States proceeded without a clear second UN Security Council resolution authorizing force, relying instead on interpretations of prior resolutions amid intense debate. The long-term fallout was severe: a strategic miscalculation that damaged American credibility more than any event since Vietnam, divided our allies, contributed to regional instability and the rise of groups like ISIS, and cost trillions while eroding trust at home and abroad. Many who supported the initial aims later acknowledged that bypassing full international and constitutional processes came at a steep price to our global standing and domestic unity. The same pattern repeated in Syria: limited missile strikes and prolonged support operations (2017–2018 and beyond) were launched without full congressional authorization or explicit UN Security Council approval, justified as responses to chemical attacks or counter-ISIS efforts. Yet these interventions produced no lasting regime change, no stable peace, and instead prolonged civil war, empowered adversaries like Russia and Iran, and left the United States entangled in yet another theater with unclear exit conditions; another example of mission creep that drained resources and credibility without achieving decisive strategic gains. The hasty 2021 Afghanistan withdrawal further illustrates the pattern: after twenty years of engagement, the United States abandoned allies and left behind roughly $7 billion in military equipment, including hundreds of thousands of weapons, thousands of vehicles, and aircraft, while the Taliban swiftly reclaimed control.
The Geneva Conventions of 1949, treaties the United States not only ratified but helped shape and has enforced globally, impose equally clear obligations once conflict begins. Common Article 3 prohibits “violence to life and person, in particular murder of all kinds, mutilation, cruel treatment and torture” and “outrages upon personal dignity.” Additional Protocol I (reflecting customary international law binding on the U.S.) demands distinction between combatants and civilians (Article 48), proportionality in attacks (Article 51), and protection of objects indispensable to civilian survival such as food, water, power, and health facilities (Article 54). Deliberate or reckless strikes on civilian infrastructure, schools, homes, or hospitals, absent they are being used for military purposes with feasible precautions taken, violate these rules and can constitute war crimes under our own War Crimes Act (18 U.S.C. § 2441). We have prosecuted our own when standards slipped: My Lai in Vietnam, Abu Ghraib in Iraq. We demanded the same of others. Yet current rhetoric and reported incidents raise the very concerns international law experts have flagged: threats to power plants, bridges, and desalination facilities that could deny civilians essentials for survival.
These misadventures have come at an enormous cost. In Iraq, over 4,400 American service members were killed and more than 32,000 wounded. In Afghanistan, nearly 2,500 were killed and over 20,000 wounded. The 2021 withdrawal alone saw approximately $7 billion in U.S. military equipment left behind or destroyed. Combined, the wars cost the American taxpayer over $4 trillion, with ongoing veteran care adding billions more annually. Veteran families across America know this toll intimately. Grandfathers who pulled bodies from the burning ships at Pearl Harbor carried those images to their final days. Fathers who survived platoons wiped out in combat, only to spend three harrowing days hunted behind enemy lines, relived the nightmare every night until it claimed them by their own hand a decade later. Sons and daughters who served carry the weight of back injuries, chronic pain, and the unseen scars that follow. At some point, this nation must decide that the service and sacrifices of its veterans and their families have been enough. At some point, we must find it within ourselves to choose a better way, to become peacemakers instead of dealers of death and destruction in the name of democracy. We are supposed to be a republic of inalienable rights and the defenders of liberty for all. Let us live up to that.
As citizens far from the battlefields, we have too often rubber-stamped distant conflicts without fully grasping the human toll (on our soldiers and veterans facing PTSD, suicide rates far above the national average, and lifelong disabilities) or the social and financial strain on our nation. Internationally, such actions damage our reputation, leading partners to hesitate in trade deals, alliances, and investments, choosing instead to diversify away from a power perceived as unpredictable or above the rules.
Many who voted for the current administration in each of its elections share this concern. We supported restoring American strength and avoiding nation-building adventures. We believed in America First as prudent restraint, not isolationism. The pattern of actions without full constitutional process (first Venezuela, now Iran) feels to countless principled independent conservatives like a departure from those commitments. Even the President himself once warned against repeating such errors. In 2016 he called the Iraq War “a big, fat mistake” and “the worst decision” in presidential history, declaring, “We should have never been in Iraq. We have destabilized the Middle East.” He promised to end “endless wars” and be the leader who would “stop wars,” not start them. On Syria he was equally blunt: “We have no business being in Syria,” “We’re going to get out of Syria very soon,” and “I’m not interested in nation-building in Syria.” Members of his administration echoed that: “Great nations do not fight endless wars.” Questioning this does not make one disloyal. It is an American tradition rooted in the Founders’ warnings against unchecked executive power and entangling alliances. It is okay to feel uneasy. History is full of patriots who loved their country enough to demand it live up to its highest ideals, even when it meant breaking from a popular leader or prevailing sentiment.
History further warns us that bombing campaigns, from World War II through today, have never succeeded in changing a people’s will or forcing ideological surrender. The Blitz on London stiffened British resolve. Allied firebombing of German and Japanese cities (despite immense destruction) did not break civilian morale or prompt popular revolt against their regimes; in many cases, it hardened determination or directed anger inward at leadership without toppling it. Rolling Thunder in Vietnam failed to coerce North Vietnam into submission. Decades of analysis, including post-war U.S. Strategic Bombing Surveys, confirm the pattern: strategic bombing can degrade military capacity temporarily but rarely alters hearts and minds or produces the political change sought. It often proves counterproductive, unifying populations against the attacker.
In stark contrast, history shows that peace and deliberate efforts to overcome hatred can forge enduring partnerships and stronger societies. After World War II, the United States chose reconciliation with former enemies Germany and Japan through the Marshall Plan, occupation, and economic rebuilding. From bitter wartime enmity emerged NATO allies and economic powerhouses that became pillars of the free world. France and Germany (once locked in centuries of hatred through repeated wars) reconciled via the European Coal and Steel Community and later the European Union, transforming mortal foes into core partners in prosperity and stability. South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission after apartheid and Rwanda’s post-genocide efforts to foster unity demonstrated that confronting division through justice and dialogue, rather than perpetual force, can rebuild fractured societies. These examples prove that strength lies not only in military power but in moral consistency and the courage to choose peace when it serves long-term interests.
We still believe in a strong, moral America; one that defends its interests vigorously but does so lawfully, proportionately, and with the consent of the people’s representatives. Congress has the constitutional duty to authorize or constrain such actions. The War Powers Resolution exists for exactly this moment. Citizens across the political spectrum can and should insist that our government follow the processes we demand of others. This is not weakness; it is strength, the strength of a republic that holds itself to the same standards it enforces globally.
Let us choose the path of consistency, law, and long-term security. Don’t just call but write to your representatives. Demand oversight and a complete withdrawal from this conflict. Support a foreign policy that truly puts America first by remaining the nation the world can trust to uphold the rules, not bend them. Our children and grandchildren deserve a country whose moral authority matches its military power. Bring our Troops home, save a soldier.
The choice is ours. May we choose wisely.
In solemn concern for our Republic,
Lonny Ray Williams,
A Fellow American Citizen