Etiam in bello, honor (ENG)

In war, character reveals itself

No one can be surprised that forgiveness seems impossible for many when a daughter of one's own people is publicly humiliated. Shani Louk, a young German-Israeli woman who refused military service on pacifist grounds, was brutally murdered by Hamas fighters during the Nova Festival. Her body was displayed on a truck, spat upon and celebrated like a war trophy.

In that beastly celebration of death, we see the collapse of every notion of honor. What remains of human dignity when even a dead woman is denied peace? Such acts confront us not only with the violence of an enemy, but with something deeper: the realization that honor, dignity, and humanity can be stripped away-even in death. And so the question arises—not one of justice or strategy, but something more fundamental: how do we preserve civilization amid barbarity?

The instinctive response to horror is vengeance. But it is precisely in times of rage and loss that the true strength of a civilization is tested. Can we, even then, hold fast to principles like compassion, honor, and humanity?

In practice, often not. The consequences are visible: the thirst for retaliation leads to destruction, with the result that soon barely a baby in a cradle or a man with half a leg remains standing in Gaza. Dehumanization fuels violence, and violence only breeds more vengeance.

Yet throughout history, there have been people who refused to be swept away by emotion, who allowed reason and character to speak-not because they felt less pain, but because they embodied courage and honor.

In the 17th century, the Turkish philosopher Kâtib Çelebi wrote Nizam al-'Ālam ("The Order of the World"). In it, he praised the Croats as exemplary warriors who despised cowardice-not only because of their bravery, but above all for their chivalrous conduct toward enemies. They would never harm a disarmed or captured opponent and were renowned for keeping their word. For Çelebi, it was clear: a military force without honor is not a strength, but a danger to order.

Saladin, the famed Muslim leader, recaptured Jerusalem in 1187. Instead of exacting revenge, he forgave the citizens and protected their lives-a stark contrast to the massacre earlier wrought by the Crusaders.

Even Alexander the Great, a military genius without equal, showed reverence for his enemy. When Persian king Darius III was betrayed and left to die by his own general Bessus, Alexander ordered a royal burial in accordance with Persian rites. Not for political gain, but out of respect. Alexander did not despise his enemy, but the traitor. Bessus was later executed—not as an enemy of Macedonia, but as a betrayer of his king. Thus Alexander showed: even in war, loyalty and honor outweigh conquest.

In modern times, too, there are glimmers of light: during the American Civil War, General Grant showed compassion to his defeated foes. In 1914, soldiers on the Western Front spontaneously laid down their arms for a moment of humanity on Christmas. And even during the Falklands War, soldiers treated their wounded enemies under enemy fire.

These examples show: chivalry is not weakness. It is the proof of a civilization that, however wounded, remains faithful to its ideals.

And today? In Ukraine, we again witness how quickly human dignity can vanish. Prisoners of war are tortured, civilians dehumanized. Ukrainian journalist Viktoriia Roshchyna, according to multiple sources, was tortured for months in Russian captivity. When her body was finally returned, it showed signs of brutal abuse: burns on her feet, a fractured hyoid bone - and her eyes, parts of her brain, and her larynx had been removed.

So long as we display the enemy's body as a trophy, we cannot speak of civilization. So long as we nurture our hatred and reduce the other to a beast, we erode our own humanity, piece by piece. True victory lies not in the destruction of the enemy, but in preserving moral dignity-even under fire.

Reverence, even toward an enemy, is a choice - but the right one. A civilization that forgets this digs its own grave. And so, we keep digging. And that is why children remain the favored targets of revenge. Each child represents a future human being who, scarred by trauma, may one day take up arms - if their history holds no examples of nobility, neither from their own people nor from their enemies. Someone must sit at the table and show character. But as long as temptation and bitterness reign on both sides, history will keep repeating itself.

"Love for one's own people must not turn a man into a wild beast that destroys everything and cries out for vengeance, but should enrich him—so that he learns to respect and love his own people, as well as others."
~ Aloysius Stepinac