Why Whiteness Struggles to Exist in Peace
The fascination with war and destruction lies at the heart of the historical narrative surrounding “whiteness,” the dominant cultural, social, and political framework that has shaped much of the modern world. This obsession is not incidental; it is deeply embedded in the fabric of Western civilization, influencing everything from its heroes to its institutions, its economies to its ideologies. The inability of whiteness to exist peacefully, without resorting to violence or domination, reveals a profound existential struggle—one rooted in fear, insecurity, and a compulsive need for control.
From its earliest foundations, whiteness has thrived on conquest. Ancient Greece, often celebrated as the birthplace of democracy, was also a society defined by perpetual warfare. The Peloponnesian Wars, fought between Athens and Sparta, were brutal conflicts over power and influence, setting a precedent for future European behavior. Rome followed suit, expanding its empire through relentless military campaigns, enslaving millions, and erasing countless cultures along the way. This pattern continued into the medieval period, where feudal lords waged endless battles over land and resources. The Crusades epitomized this era, as Christian Europe sought to impose its will on Muslim-majority regions under the guise of religious righteousness. These holy wars were less about faith than they were about plunder, territory, and dominance—a recurring theme in the story of whiteness.
By the time of the Renaissance, Europe had perfected the art of war. Gunpowder, originally invented in China for ceremonial purposes, became the cornerstone of European militarism. Cannons, muskets, and eventually artillery transformed warfare into a mechanized spectacle of death. What began as a celebration of human ingenuity quickly devolved into a tool for mass destruction, enabling Europeans to conquer vast swaths of the globe with unprecedented efficiency.
The Age of Exploration marked the beginning of global-scale violence orchestrated by whiteness. Columbus’s arrival in the Americas set off a chain reaction of genocide, enslavement, and cultural annihilation. Entire civilizations, such as the Aztecs, Incas, and Taíno, were wiped out or subjugated. The transatlantic slave trade, driven by European demand for labor, turned Africa into a site of unimaginable suffering. Millions were kidnapped, transported under horrific conditions, and forced to work in plantations and mines until their deaths. In Asia, colonial powers like Britain, France, and the Netherlands imposed their will through military force and economic exploitation. India, once a thriving hub of culture and innovation, was reduced to poverty and famine under British rule. The Opium Wars in China exemplified how whiteness weaponized commerce, flooding the country with addictive substances to weaken resistance and open markets. Everywhere it went, whiteness left behind a trail of devastation, replacing indigenous systems with those designed to serve foreign masters.
Even after formal colonization ended, neo-colonial practices ensured that former colonies remained economically dependent on their former oppressors. Structural adjustment programs, unfair trade agreements, and debt traps have kept many Global South nations impoverished, perpetuating cycles of inequality and conflict.
The 20th century brought whiteness‘ penchant for war to new heights. Both World Wars originated in Europe, fueled by imperial rivalries, nationalist fervor, and ideological divisions. The scale of destruction during these conflicts was unprecedented, with tens of millions killed and entire cities reduced to rubble. Yet, even in victory, the scars of war lingered, sowing the seeds for future conflicts. The Cold War further entrenched this dynamic, pitting the United States and its allies against the Soviet Union in a decades-long standoff. While no direct combat occurred between the superpowers, proxy wars ravaged countries across Africa, Asia, and Latin America. Vietnam, Korea, Angola, Nicaragua—all became battlegrounds for competing visions of global order, with local populations bearing the brunt of the violence. Arms dealers profited handsomely, supplying weapons to both sides and ensuring that peace remained elusive.
Nuclear proliferation added another layer of danger, as the threat of mutually assured destruction loomed over humanity. Rather than fostering cooperation, the arms race intensified mistrust and paranoia, reinforcing the notion that security could only be achieved through superior firepower. Even today, the legacy of the Cold War persists, with NATO expansion and U.S.-Russia tensions continuing to destabilize regions like Eastern Europe and the Middle East.
One of the most telling aspects of whiteness’s relationship with war is its veneration of military leaders as national heroes. Figures like Napoleon Bonaparte, Winston Churchill, and General George Patton are lionized in history books, their violent exploits framed as acts of valor and leadership. But beneath the surface lies a darker truth: these men were architects of immense suffering. Napoleon’s campaigns may have spread revolutionary ideals, but they also devastated Europe, leaving behind a trail of dead bodies and ruined cities. Churchill’s leadership during WWII is often praised, yet his policies contributed to famines in India and suppressed anti-colonial movements in Africa and Asia. Patton, despite his tactical brilliance, was notorious for his disdain for civilian life and his eagerness to engage in brutal tactics. These figures represent a broader archetype within whiteness: the glorification of aggression as a virtue. By elevating warriors above peacemakers, whiteness perpetuates a worldview where domination and control are seen as natural and necessary. This mindset seeps into popular culture, education, and politics, shaping how individuals perceive conflict and resolution.
Gunpowder, originally invented in China for ceremonial purposes, became the cornerstone of European militarism.
The arms industry stands as perhaps the clearest manifestation of whiteness’s addiction to war. Countries like the United States, Russia, and members of NATO dominate the global market for weapons, exporting billions of dollars’ worth of arms annually. These weapons end up in conflict zones around the world, fueling wars in places like Yemen, Syria, and Sudan. Arms dealers profit immensely, while governments use the sale of weapons to exert geopolitical influence. This cycle of profit-driven violence ensures that peace remains unattainable for millions. It also creates a perverse incentive to maintain instability, as ongoing conflicts demand more weapons. In this sense, whiteness benefits materially from chaos, using its technological superiority to exploit weaker nations and communities.
Perhaps the most troubling aspect of whiteness’s relationship with war is its apparent inability to coexist peacefully with others. Throughout history, encounters between dominant white societies and non-white cultures have too often resulted in subjugation, erasure, or extermination. Whether it was the genocide of Native Americans, the enslavement of Africans, or the partition of India, the response to difference has consistently been violence rather than understanding. Even in moments of supposed progress, such as decolonization or civil rights movements, resistance from entrenched systems of power has slowed meaningful change. Racism, economic exploitation, and cultural appropriation remain pervasive forces that undermine attempts at genuine reconciliation. Whiteness thrives on division, creating hierarchies that justify inequality and maintain control.
This inability to cope with peaceful coexistence stems from a deep-seated fear of vulnerability. Whiteness equates strength with dominance, viewing kindness and compassion as weaknesses. As a result, it struggles to imagine a world where power is shared equally, where differences are celebrated rather than suppressed, and where cooperation replaces competition.
For whiteness to evolve, it must confront its complicity in perpetuating cycles of violence and destruction. This requires acknowledging the harm caused by centuries of war, colonialism, and exploitation—and taking responsibility for repairing that harm. It means rejecting the glorification of war heroes and celebrating acts of diplomacy, empathy, and solidarity. Most importantly, it demands embracing a vision of humanity that transcends racial and cultural boundaries, recognizing our shared destiny as inhabitants of a fragile planet. Until then, the dream of a world free from the chains of hatred, greed, and destruction will remain just that—a dream. For whiteness to truly find peace, it must first learn to let go of its obsession with war and embrace the possibility of coexistence. Only then can we hope to build a future defined not by conflict but by love, understanding, and mutual respect.