Johnson is a United Methodist pastor, the author of "Holding Up Your Corner: Talking About Race in Your Community" and program director for the Bridge Alliance, which houses The Fulcrum.
As rockets are once again streaking across the skies of the Middle East and the cries of the bereaved echo through its ravaged streets, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.'s words and teachings reverberate like a mournful prayer in my spirit. They stir within me a deep sociopolitical and theological question, "Is 'just war' just?”
In this ongoing conflict, as in all wars, nation-states are forced to confront the terrible paradox of the just war theory — that the pursuit of justice can sometimes demand the violence it seeks to vanquish.
Just war doctrine roots trace back to the writings of St. Augustine and St, Thomas Aquinas. Augustine argued that war could be a purpose for the restoration of peace, while Aquinas' commentary is often interpreted as giving allowance to war. Though war was thought to be an inherent evil, there were certain conditions for its justification, including just cause (self-defense or the protection of innocents), last resort (all peaceful means exhausted), probability of success, proportionality (the ends justify the means) and right intention (the goal is peace, not conquest or domination).
However, even when these criteria are met, war inevitably brings about indiscriminate suffering, violating the fundamental principle of noncombatant immunity. Presently, Israel and Hamas are claiming cause. Israel argues its right to self-defense against indiscriminate rocket attacks, while Palestinians point to decades of occupation, blockade and creeping annexation.
The moral calculus of war becomes even more fraught when geopolitical alliances are factored in. The United States has long been Israel's staunchest backer, providing billions in military aid each year. This unwavering support, rooted in a complex mix of strategic interests, ideological alignment and domestic political pressures, significantly bolsters Israel's military might. Conversely, Iran supports Hamas and Hezbollah, funneling weapons and cash to bolster their military capabilities. Tehran views these relationships as a means to project power, challenge Israeli dominance and advance its regional agenda. These external influences further complicate the conflict, making a lasting resolution more elusive.
Such patron-client relationships further entrench the conflict, making a lasting resolution more elusive. Over the years, such relations have created a destructive cycle where escalation by one side is met with counter-escalation by the other, fueled by their respective backers; amidst this tangled web of alliances, the humanitarian cost mounts. Innocent civilians are often left to bear the burden of violence. Thus, leaving the international community struggling to navigate these competing interests hampers efforts to broker peaceable solutions. The longer military conflict persists, the greater the moral imperative to protect innocent lives and arrive at a point of just resolution.
Pursuing peace can be supported even at the height of cyclical violence when retribution continues. The efforts of good-faith actors or humanitarians demand more than a mere ceasefire. What is truly necessary is a commitment to address the underlying grievances, the longstanding grievances fueling historic conflict.
Despite its flaws, just war theory, for some, acts as a moral framework for judgment of their actions in the crucible of conflict. But it must be complemented by a tireless dedication to nonviolence and restorative justice championed by prophetic arbitrators like Dr. King and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel. In reflection of devastation and unrest across the region, we are reminded that justice is not found in the rubble of war but in acknowledging the dignity and sacredness of all human life.
The query is whether war is a just act. It ought to serve as a mirror held up to the soul of humanity in assessing its most authentic reflection. Forcing nations and individuals alike to wrestle with our respective capacity for cruelty and compassion, our penchant for division and our yearning for unity. As allied forces and regional actors involved in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict consider their next moves, pray all remember that true strength lies not in military might but in the courage to choose peace. All parties should prioritize the most vulnerable while seeking to enact justice. A justice that sincerely seeks peace — respecting and embracing all, regardless of their faith or nationality. Only time will tell.
Eric Trump, the newly appointed ALT5 board director of World Liberty Financial, walks outside of the NASDAQ in Times Square as they mark the $1.5- billion partnership between World Liberty Financial and ALT5 Sigma with the ringing of the NASDAQ opening bell, on Aug. 13, 2025, in New York City.
Why does the Trump family always get a pass?
Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche joined ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday to defend or explain a lot of controversies for the Trump administration: the Epstein files release, the events in Minneapolis, etc. He was also asked about possible conflicts of interest between President Trump’s family business and his job. Specifically, Blanche was asked about a very sketchy deal Trump’s son Eric signed with the UAE’s national security adviser, Sheikh Tahnoon.
Shortly before Trump was inaugurated in early 2025, Tahnoon invested $500 million in the Trump-owned World Liberty, a then newly launched cryptocurrency outfit. A few months later, UAE was granted permission to purchase sensitive American AI chips. According to the Wall Street Journal, which broke the story, “the deal marks something unprecedented in American politics: a foreign government official taking a major ownership stake in an incoming U.S. president’s company.”
“How do you respond to those who say this is a serious conflict of interest?” ABC host George Stephanopoulos asked.
“I love it when these papers talk about something being unprecedented or never happening before,” Blanche replied, “as if the Biden family and the Biden administration didn’t do exactly the same thing, and they were just in office.”
Blanche went on to boast about how the president is utterly transparent regarding his questionable business practices: “I don’t have a comment on it beyond Trump has been completely transparent when his family travels for business reasons. They don’t do so in secret. We don’t learn about it when we find a laptop a few years later. We learn about it when it’s happening.”
Sadly, Stephanopoulos didn’t offer the obvious response, which may have gone something like this: “OK, but the president and countless leading Republicans insisted that President Biden was the head of what they dubbed ‘the Biden Crime family’ and insisted his business dealings were corrupt, and indeed that his corruption merited impeachment. So how is being ‘transparent’ about similar corruption a defense?”
Now, I should be clear that I do think the Biden family’s business dealings were corrupt, whether or not laws were broken. Others disagree. I also think Trump’s business dealings appear to be worse in many ways than even what Biden was alleged to have done. But none of that is relevant. The standard set by Trump and Republicans is the relevant political standard, and by the deputy attorney general’s own account, the Trump administration is doing “exactly the same thing,” just more openly.
Since when is being more transparent about wrongdoing a defense? Try telling a cop or judge, “Yes, I robbed that bank. I’ve been completely transparent about that. So, what’s the big deal?”
This is just a small example of the broader dysfunction in the way we talk about politics.
Americans have a special hatred for hypocrisy. I think it goes back to the founding era. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in “Democracy In America,” the old world had a different way of dealing with the moral shortcomings of leaders. Rank had its privileges. Nobles, never mind kings, were entitled to behave in ways that were forbidden to the little people.
In America, titles of nobility were banned in the Constitution and in our democratic culture. In a society built on notions of equality (the obvious exceptions of Black people, women, Native Americans notwithstanding) no one has access to special carve-outs or exemptions as to what is right and wrong. Claiming them, particularly in secret, feels like a betrayal against the whole idea of equality.
The problem in the modern era is that elites — of all ideological stripes — have violated that bargain. The result isn’t that we’ve abandoned any notion of right and wrong. Instead, by elevating hypocrisy to the greatest of sins, we end up weaponizing the principles, using them as a cudgel against the other side but not against our own.
Pick an issue: violent rhetoric by politicians, sexual misconduct, corruption and so on. With every revelation, almost immediately the debate becomes a riot of whataboutism. Team A says that Team B has no right to criticize because they did the same thing. Team B points out that Team A has switched positions. Everyone has a point. And everyone is missing the point.
Sure, hypocrisy is a moral failing, and partisan inconsistency is an intellectual one. But neither changes the objective facts. This is something you’re supposed to learn as a child: It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing or saying, wrong is wrong. It’s also something lawyers like Mr. Blanche are supposed to know. Telling a judge that the hypocrisy of the prosecutor — or your client’s transparency — means your client did nothing wrong would earn you nothing but a laugh.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.