In online comment threads, like the one sparked by a quote attributed to Gandhi: “There are many causes I am willing to die for. There is no cause I am willing to kill for”; the immediate backlash is often visceral. People leap at the chance to discredit nonviolence, to glorify strength through force, and to wrap their pride in the cloth of hypothetical war. But rarely are these voices forged in blood or hardened by reality. Most have never watched a man bleed. Most have never waited to see if the person they just struck would get back up. And it shows.

Violence is often idolized by those who have never been close to it. It feels simple: kill the enemy, solve the problem. But history tells another story. War may be inevitable at times, but it almost never changes hearts or minds. It punishes. It breaks. It silences. But it rarely convinces.

So what does change minds? Let’s examine the case of Germany post-World War II. Here was a nation responsible for one of the greatest atrocities in modern history: the Holocaust. And yet, in the decades that followed, Germany didn’t pretend it never happened. It didn’t rely solely on the memory of Allied bombs. It taught the truth. It faced its past. Laws were put in place against Holocaust denial. Reparations were made. Education was restructured. Public monuments of shame, not pride, were erected. Rather than bury the past or double down on nationalism, Germany chose to remember, educate, and transform. Now, it stands as a pillar of democracy and freedom, often more resilient in its values than the very nations that defeated it.

Contrast that with how the United States has handled its own sins: slavery, indigenous genocide, systemic racism. There has been no national accountability. Only deflection, half-truths, and cherry-picked heroes. Even our history books are battlegrounds.

Gandhi’s legacy is complicated, and like all historical figures, his views evolved. His famous quote about being willing to die but not kill has been misrepresented as a blanket pacifism. But Gandhi never suggested people should be doormats. He believed nonviolence (“Ahimsa”) was a weapon of the strong, not the weak. In fact, he once said:

“I do believe that, where there is only a choice between cowardice and violence, I would advise violence.”

This is not hypocrisy. It is hierarchy. He saw violence as sometimes preferable to inaction, but always inferior to courage with restraint. That distinction is often lost in modern discourse.

Even other revered figures known for peace have been nuanced. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. never advocated violence, but he understood its presence. He said:

“A riot is the language of the unheard.”

He did not celebrate it, but he listened to it. He also knew that real change required moral credibility, which is why the Civil Rights Movement clung to nonviolence even in the face of brutal repression. But that doesn’t mean they operated alone. Armed Black men were often nearby, quietly ensuring protests weren’t massacred.

As for Malcolm X, he was often vilified for being violent, but his actual stance was more defensive than offensive:

“Be peaceful, be courteous, obey the law, respect everyone; but if someone puts his hand on you, send him to the cemetery.”

This wasn’t a call to aggression. It was a refusal to die quietly.

The deeper issue isn’t whether violence ever has a place. It’s that many people default to it, glorify it, and romanticize it; especially those least equipped to face the consequences. Americans love to talk about the Second Amendment, about standing up to tyranny, about prepping for the end times. But how many of them can purify water? Can they make fire without fuel? Can they trade with others without force? Can they negotiate when outnumbered? Can they lead without domination?

The truth is, most Americans are too soft for war. Not soft in spirit, but soft in skill. They are armed, but not ready. Loud, but not learned. Survival requires more than bullets. It requires bushcraft, bartering, patience, and wisdom. Without that, you’re just a frightened animal with a loud stick.

If we want to avoid the collapse of society, we must hold those in power accountable now. We must teach history honestly now. We must refuse to romanticize war from the comfort of Wi-Fi and air conditioning. Because if it ever comes to real collapse, those who mocked nonviolence may find themselves praying for the mercy they once ridiculed.

Violence might end a life. But truth changes one. And that’s the only war worth winning.