The People Who Call for War Rarely Volunteer Their Own Children First

Jacob Rees-Mogg's recent warning to Britons was blunt. He said that Britain could face war within the next few years and that, if it happened, people would need to join the armed forces and "do their duty". He went further, saying that there could be circumstances in which people would have to die to save their country.

There is nothing inherently controversial about recognising that national defence can require sacrifice. Every functioning state has a responsibility to protect its population, and military service can involve extraordinary personal courage. The problem begins when political leaders speak casually about other people's children paying the ultimate price.

Rees-Mogg's remarks immediately provoked a predictable question: where is the sacrifice expected from the political class itself? Critics pointed to the contrast between politicians urging ordinary citizens to prepare for war and the privileged backgrounds from which many of Britain's political establishment comes. George Galloway, among others, responded by mocking the message and questioning the wisdom of preparing for war instead of pursuing diplomacy.

The issue is larger than Rees-Mogg. Throughout history, governments have found it remarkably easy to describe military sacrifice as noble when the sacrifice is being made by somebody else.

There is a particular danger in normalising war before the political case for war has even been established. Britain is a nuclear-armed state, a NATO member and a major military power. Any future conflict involving Britain and another major power would not necessarily resemble the wars of the past. The potential consequences could be catastrophic. That makes diplomacy even more important, not less.

Citizens should certainly be willing to discuss national defence honestly. They should be told what threats exist, what military commitments are being made, what those commitments cost and what risks they entail. But "some of you may die" should not become a substitute for explaining why a war would be necessary in the first place.

There is also a basic democratic principle involved. Governments have the authority to make foreign-policy decisions, but citizens ultimately bear the human cost of those decisions. The families sending sons, daughters, husbands and wives into combat are not abstract units in a strategic calculation. That is why the language of duty must be accompanied by the language of accountability.

If Britain genuinely faces a military threat, politicians should explain it clearly. If war becomes unavoidable, citizens should understand why. And if politicians believe military service is such an essential duty, the public is entitled to scrutinise whether the political class itself shares the risks it asks everyone else to accept. The answer should not simply be that ordinary people must be prepared to die because history demands it.

The first duty of political leadership should be to prevent unnecessary wars from becoming necessary wars. Preparing citizens for conflict is sometimes unavoidable. Preparing them to accept death should never become easier than preparing the country to pursue peace.