America Must Look Within: Did You Know the First Act of Terrorism Was a Domestic Attack in Oklahoma?

Bacevich makes it clear that the actions of Saddam Hussein and Osama bin Laden, as threatening as they were, cannot fully explain why the United States finds itself locked in “seemingly never-ending conflict” (Bacevich 14). He alludes to the fact that the root cause isn’t terrorism, it’s Americans. America’s foreign policy is driven by an insatiable desire to maintain a lifestyle of consumption and convenience, stating that Americans have “come to believe that the normal condition of the United States is to be at war” (Bacevich). This endless state of war isn’t about defense; it’s about sustaining an unsustainable way of life.

According to Bacevich, the connection between “freedom” at home and “empire” abroad is a troubling one; the two have become inseparable. The protection of America’s version of freedom—the freedom to consume without consequence, to live beyond our means—requires a global empire to secure markets, oil fields, and political dominance. This isn’t about defending democracy; it’s about defending access. As Bacevich writes, “The pursuit of freedom, far from contributing to peace, has become a source of turmoil and instability” (Bacevich 18). What is worse is America’s effort to project power in other countries has weakened the meaning of freedom here. Bacevich argues that Americans have come to view their freedom as an entitlement, something the government must guarantee by any means necessary, including war (Bacevich 20). He writes that “freedom” has been reduced to “autonomy of the individual,” stripping the nationwide, societal responsibility (Bacevich 22). In trying to preserve this narrow vision of personal freedom, we have built an empire that demands endless war, endless spending, and endless expansion of territory. And in the process, the very idea of freedom has become empty in its meaning. It no longer means participation in self-government or living within ethical limits, it means consumption without guilt and power without consequence (Bacevich). That twisted version of freedom feeds directly into the logic of empire: if the American way of life requires domination abroad, then so be it.

The hardest question Bacevich raises is whether there is a way out of these “forever wars.” Is it possible to dismantle the empire we have built around ourselves? He doesn’t offer easy answers, and maybe that’s the point. Bacevich argues that escape is possible, but it requires “a revolution in consciousness” (Bacevich 62). Americans would have to fundamentally change how they think about security, prosperity, and responsibility. We would have to accept that freedom cannot mean limitless consumption, and that real security comes not from dominating others but from living within our means. 

However, how do you convince a country built on the promise of more—more land, more power, more wealth—that enough is enough? How do you dismantle an economy and a culture built around expansion? Even Bacevich seems to suggest that the political will to make these changes is almost nonexistent. As long as politicians promise that prosperity and security can be maintained without sacrifice, there will be little incentive for Americans to demand anything different. We are trapped not because of enemies abroad, but because of illusions at home (and because of our willingness to believe what is said; sound familiar?). The forever wars will not end until we confront the real enemy: our own unwillingness to live within limits.