When I was seven years old, I watched as India and Pakistan stood on the brink of war. Tanks were deployed. News anchors looked panicked. People stocked up on food, and entire communities braced themselves for the worst. Even as a child, I understood something terrible could happen. That fear never really left me.
A few years later, I witnessed Iraq descend into chaos. The fall of Saddam Hussein didn’t bring peace, it created a power vacuum. The West celebrated regime change. But on the ground, it was the start of endless suffering for ordinary Iraqis. I was just a teenager when the Arab Spring began, promising hope and reform. Instead, it gave birth to civil wars in Syria, Libya, and Yemen. Once again, the people who rose up for change became collateral damage.
I’ve seen this pattern my whole life. And now, as tensions between Thailand and Cambodia rise, it’s hard not to feel a grim sense of déjà vu.
Because no matter the geography, religion, or political justification, war always ends up punishing the same group of people: the poor.
Whether it’s in Gaza or Grozny, Ukraine or Urumqi, it is never the elite who pay the price. They don’t send their children to fight. They don’t sleep in bomb shelters. They don’t ration food. The working class, irrespective of colour, caste, or creed—are the ones who bleed.
We live in a world where war isn’t the last resort anymore. It’s just another policy option.
In Pakistan this past May, I saw with my own eyes how close we came again. Tanks in cities. Drones over borders. Jets scrambled. People watched from rooftops, uncertain of what came next. We’re always just one misstep away from catastrophe. And yet we continue to elect leaders who behave like schoolboys playing Risk with real lives on the line.
Maybe Thailand has more fighter jets than Cambodia. Maybe one side will deal more damage. But there will be no “winner”, only two nations that lose blood, treasure, and trust. The economic impact will hit the poorest hardest. Inflation will rise. Borders will close. Young men will be called to fight, and they may never return. I’ve seen this story before.
What troubles me most is not just the wars themselves, but how numb we’ve become to them. We live in a time where war crimes are livestreamed. Civilians bombed. Aid denied. Hospitals targeted. And yet our collective outrage is now brief, performative, or filtered through geopolitics.
We used to dream of a rules-based world. A world of diplomacy, treaties, international law. But those dreams feel like relics. We now live in a post-Clausewitz world where total war, economic, cultural, physical—is back in fashion. The values of Kant, who believed in human dignity and perpetual peace, are mocked by modern realpolitik.
And in this new world, where are the global leaders?
Washington? Paralysed by partisanship. Brussels? Too busy negotiating trade deals. Moscow and Beijing? Using war as a tool of diplomacy. Delhi? Fuelled by nationalism. The moral leadership vacuum is real—and dangerous.
It reminds me of Blackadder Goes Forth, where generals pushed men “over the top” from the safety of their offices. But today, instead of crawling toward Berlin, we’re drifting toward Phnom Penh or Jerusalem or Islamabad, led by leaders who value theatrics over strategy, and cruelty over courage.
This is the dangerous new normal.
Meanwhile, ordinary people are too often pitted against each other. Instead of holding our governments accountable for failed diplomacy or brutal austerity, we’re encouraged to blame migrants, minorities, or each other. “They’re taking your jobs” becomes easier to sell than “we’ve underfunded your schools and privatised your hospitals.”
And while we’re busy fighting each other, the wealthy thrive. Defence contracts boom. Arms dealers cash in. Politicians gain votes by stoking fear. It’s a cruel irony that every bomb dropped creates more profit for someone.
But this isn’t just about policy, it’s about humanity. We’ve lost the ability to see ourselves in others. We’ve forgotten that the boy in Gaza or the farmer in Cambodia is not our enemy. They are us. Just born in different circumstances.
What gives me hope, though, is that history doesn’t have to repeat. It rhymes, but we can change the verse. Young people are not as loyal to flags and falsehoods as their predecessors. Across the world, I see a generation that wants peace, justice, and fairness, not empire, conquest, or nationalism.
As a British Pakistani, I carry the legacy of empire in my blood—both its scars and its warnings. My ancestors saw colonialism up close. And today, I watch the same arrogance play out on global stages, just under different banners.
So what do we do?
We must resist warmongering wherever it appears, whether in Westminster or Phnom Penh. We must speak up when civilians are dehumanised, and call out those who profit from pain. We must build alliances across borders, between ordinary people who refuse to be enemies.
Because unless we reclaim our collective moral compass, the cycle won’t break. And the next conflict – whether it’s in Asia, Europe, or beyond – will once again be paid for by those who had no say in starting it.
* Mo Waqas is a vice chair of the Liberal Democrats' Racial Diversity Campaign and was the PPC for Middlesbrough and Thornaby East.
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8 Comments
You make important points. I assume you are familiar with the famous Scottish socialist, John Mclean, who was put on trial for sedition, and jailed, for daring to oppose the First World War. It feels that we are entering a similar time with activists opposing what is happening in Gaza being branded terrorists for spraying red paint on planes.
Mo, you write: ‘As a British Pakistani, I carry the legacy of empire in my blood. My ancestors saw colonialism up close.’ I feel for you.
In Hitchhiking to India in 1962 I wrote: ‘On 14th August 1947, ten months earlier than originally planned, partition came into effect, with the final boundary still not settled. The mass movement began, and the massacres increased. It was Independence Day in Pakistan. Next day it was Independence Day in India. Mahatma Gandhi did not attend the celebrations.
On 30th January 1948 the divided country came partially to its senses when Mahatma Gandhi was assassinated in New Delhi. The assassin was a Hindu nationalist who opposed Gandhi’s fasts for peace, his conciliatory policy towards Muslims and his peace overtures to Pakistan.
His death and the mourning that followed were observed not only in India but also in Pakistan. It led to a re-evaluation of the tragedy, which had overcome the sub-continent. Sadly, the divisions were too deep. Initially Nehru was strengthened against the Hindu nationalists, but this lasted for less than two years. Partition in fact boosted the strength of the Hindu Right and relegated Indian Muslims to a difficult and precarious position in the early years of Independence.’
I wrote about Cambodia in From Setting Sun to Rising Sun: ‘We drive along a narrow road bordered by shambolic poverty as well as a few nice mansions and a gated estate. The rich are buying up land in Sihanoukville for $500 per square metre.’
Hello John,
Thank you for your thoughtful message. Your reflections show a deep awareness of the historical trauma woven into the stories of partition and colonialism.
When I say I “carry the legacy of empire in my blood,” it’s not only metaphorical it’s ancestral memory passed through generations, shaped by both the pain and resilience of those who lived through the upheaval of 1947. My family were among the millions displaced, and the echoes of that rupture still linger in identity, politics, and even daily interactions in the UK today.
Your quote about Gandhi’s assassination and the Hindu Right’s rise is particularly poignant. It reminds us how quickly hope for unity can be replaced by fear and division. That same pattern of extremism filling the vacuum left by tragedy or weak leadership still plays out globally.
Your writings, both on India and Cambodia, also touch on another shared thread: inequality. Whether it’s partition or modern land grabs in Sihanoukville, the same forces of greed, nationalism, and disregard for the vulnerable seem to resurface with new masks. That’s why remembering history isn’t a luxury it’s a necessity.
Hi Brenda,
Yes, you’re absolutely right and the comparison to John Maclean is spot on. He was vilified for standing against an unjust war, yet history has vindicated him as a man of conscience and courage.
What we’re seeing now is eerily similar: peaceful protesters and activists raising their voices against the slaughter in Gaza being labelled extremists, even terrorists. Red paint on planes is treated as more shocking than red blood on the streets of Rafah.
Dissent is being criminalised while complicity is normalised. And just like in Maclean’s time, it takes real bravery to speak truth to power when the state decides what “acceptable protest” looks like.
All war is wrong and were it not for pig headed political leaders disputes could always be solved through discussion and compromise. All that happens in war is that lots of people die and then there are negotiations and peace talks. That was certainly true of WW1 and the punative settlement of that war led directly to the rise of Nazism and WW2. When will people learn that mass killing solves nothing?
The centenary of the outbreak of WW1 saw much debate on that cataclysmic conflict that shaped much of the modern world. It was a Liberal administration that had to grapple with the issues of Britain’s entry into the Great war. In July 1914 Asquith’s government was preoccupied with the very real potential of civil war in Ireland. Asquith started with the hope that Britain would be able to keep out of the war. ‘We are within measurable, or imaginable, distance of a real Armageddon,’ he told Venetia Stanley on July; ‘happily there seems … no reason why we should be more than spectators’ July – August 1914: Achieving the Seemingly Impossible
While not the only cause of British involvement in WW1, the German invasion of Belgium was a tipping point for public opinion and the Liberal cabinet alike. The participation of British forces in the Battle of the Marne saved France from being overrun as it was in 1940.
British governments to day have to grapple with policy on conflict in Ukraine and Gaza, searching for diplomatic solutions with aggressive powers without the deployment of British troops.
“We now live in a post-Clausewitz world where total war, economic, cultural, physical—is back in fashion”
But dont two of the examples you give show this not to be the case. The Border clashes between India and Pakistan have not – unlike the past – led to war. The fighting between Thailand and Cambodia has stopped. Israel’s attack on Iran and the US bombing of Iran’s nuclear sites have not led to war: the straits of Hormuz remain open.
There are of course far too many wars but throughout history thats always been the case. There was a reduction during the Cold War when ( with far too many exceptions) the two sides managed to stop their clients fighting.
@Mick Taylor – “All war is wrong” and “When will people learn that mass killing solves nothing?” The mass killing of WW2 removed Hitler – a justifiable war surely ?
@simon, I’d suggest that what we’re seeing is very much Clausewitzian in nature, albeit adapted to the 21st century.
You’re right that some flashpoints (India–Pakistan, Thailand–Cambodia) have shown restraint. But that’s not evidence of peace it’s evidence of strategic calibration. We’re not in a world without war we’re in a world where war has evolved.
Clausewitz spoke of war as “a continuation of politics by other means” and that’s precisely what’s happening. Except now, those “other means” include:
• Cyberattacks
• Economic warfare (see: sanctions, tariffs, supply chain chokeholds)
• Proxy conflicts and drone warfare
• Information operations and cultural destabilisation
The Israel–Iran and US–Iran scenarios didn’t escalate yet, but they’re textbook examples of pre-positioning and deterrence. The absence of immediate escalation doesn’t mean peace it means suspended conflict, often at the edge of a trigger.
You’re right that war has always existed. But what’s new is the totality of domains now involved economic, digital, political, and psychological and the fact that civilian infrastructure is often the main battlefield.