When I first saw the title of this assignment early in the semester, I assumed “Why We Fight” would be a reflection on teaching, about why we “fight” as educators. After all, I entered the profession with a commitment to fight for justice, hoping to counter the profound ignorance that was gripping our nation, especially after 2016. That was the kind of “fight” I expected to write about. But Eugene Jarecki’s 2005 documentary, Why We Fight, is about a different kind of fight. It examines American militarism and the military-industrial complex, and the political, economic, and ideological forces that sustain it. Watching the film through frameworks studied this semester, including hegemony, necropolitics, critical citizenship education, counter-narratives, and critical media literacy, revealed unexpected connections between the fight examined in the film and the kind of fight educators take on in the classroom. These theories created a clear lens for understanding how the film explains the narratives, structures, and motivations behind why the United States goes to war.
Watching Why We Fight through these frameworks shaped what I noticed and how I interpreted the film’s arguments. Wayne Au’s concept of hegemony, the idea that dominant ideologies become so naturalized that they feel like common sense, helped me understand both the film’s analysis and my own past (Au, 2024). Growing up after 9/11, I remember attending “A Grateful Nation Remembers” at a local church my senior year of high school and becoming so swept up in patriotism and the myth of American exceptionalism that I changed my plans to play college football, even refusing to meet with college coaches, to enlist in the Marine Corps. Although I eventually received a Marine Corps scholarship and attended college instead, the ideology had already taken hold. In college, I even wrote papers arguing that Ronald Reagan was the greatest president and that the War on Terror was a just war, earning an A from a professor known for grading hard. I was not a strong writer at the time, but because I accepted the dominant narrative so completely, I could argue it convincingly. This background shaped my reaction to one of the film’s opening scenes, where John McCain claims that America has certain obligations in the world based on its role in spreading democracy. My younger self would have agreed without hesitation. Through the frameworks studied this semester, particularly hegemony and Ross’s model of critical citizenship education, I now see McCain’s claim as an example of how militarism becomes framed as moral duty rather than questioned as imperial policy (Ross, 2024). The fact that I once reproduced these ideas so easily reflects the very problem Eisenhower warns about in the film.
The film’s discussion of “blowback” further illustrated how counter-narratives are hidden from the public. An expert in the film explains that blowback is not simply unintended consequences. It is the outcome of foreign operations kept secret from the American people. When retaliation occurs, citizens cannot connect cause and effect. This directly connects to King, Pitts, and Tulino’s emphasis on counter-storytelling in understanding U.S. history (King et al., 2024). Without honest historical narratives about events like the 1954 Guatemala coup or the role of corporate interests in foreign policy, citizens cannot develop informed positions. This absence shows up in the film around the nineteen-minute mark, where everyday Americans struggle to answer the question “Why do we fight.” They offer vague statements and patriotic clichés because that is all the dominant narrative provides. The film deepens this point further when it shows the human consequences of American military action. At one hour and twenty-one minutes, a small Iraqi boy appears on a stretcher after a bombing described as a “smart” strike. This moment brings necropolitics into focus, raising the question of whose lives are considered expendable (Varga et al., 2022). Iraqi civilians interviewed later describe mixed feelings about American intervention. Some felt hopeful at first, while others recognized the longer pattern of destruction. Of all the responses to “why do we fight,” the one that resonated most with me comes at the end. The film ends with Lt. Col. Karen Kwiatkowski stating, “So, why we fight. I think we fight because too many people are not standing up saying I’m not doing this anymore.” Without access to counter-narratives and honest inquiry, people cannot stand up because they do not understand the structures that create these conflicts (Salinas & Blevins, 2024).
This film, and this class, will have a direct impact on how I will approach teaching about war with my students. I refuse to reproduce the cycle that shaped my own understanding, where patriotic performances and sanitized narratives replaced honest historical analysis. Instead, I am committed to the kind of critical citizenship education Ross describes, where students learn to question rather than absorb dominant narratives about American militarism (Ross, 2024). This means centering counter-narratives alongside textbook history and asking students to investigate whose perspectives are missing from common accounts of conflicts, such as the War on Terror. It also means teaching critical media literacy so students learn to analyze how news coverage frames war and whose interests are served through that framing. Marmol’s work makes clear the importance of questioning who controls the narrative and what that control hides (Marmol, 2024). Most of all, it means using inquiry-based instruction where students examine primary sources, compare accounts, and engage with the human cost of war. Eisenhower's warning that "only an alert and knowledgeable citizen can compel the proper meshing of the huge industrial and military machinery of defense with our peaceful methods and goals" resonates deeply with my teaching mission. My students, many of whom are multilingual learners from diverse communities, deserve the truth, access to multiple perspectives, and the dignity of being treated as critical thinkers capable of standing up and saying, "I'm not doing this anymore." This is why I fight as an educator.
References
Au, W. (2024). It is all indoctrination: Power and the impossibility of apolitical social studies curriculum. In E. W. Ross (Ed.), The social studies curriculum: Purposes, problems, and possibilities (5th ed.). State University of New York Press.
Jarecki, E. (Director). (2005). Why we fight [Film]. Sony Pictures Classics.
King, L., Pitts, W., & Tulino, B. (2024). The politics of Black history in the United States: Black history mandates and anti-critical race theory laws. In E. W. Ross (Ed.), The social studies curriculum: Purposes, problems, and possibilities (5th ed.). State University of New York Press.
Marmol, L. (2024). A critical media literacy analysis of social studies education. In E. W. Ross (Ed.), The social studies curriculum: Purposes, problems, and possibilities (5th ed.). State University of New York Press.
Ross, E. W. (2024). Pedagogical imaginaries for dangerous citizenship. In E. W. Ross (Ed.), The social studies curriculum: Purposes, problems, and possibilities (5th ed.). State University of New York Press.
Salinas, C., & Blevins, B. (2024). Critical historical inquiry: Disrupting the dominant narrative. In E. W. Ross (Ed.), The social studies curriculum: Purposes, problems, and possibilities (5th ed.). State University of New York Press.
Varga, B. A., Helmsing, M. E., van Kessel, C., & Christ, R. C. (2022). Theorizing necropolitics in social studies education. Theory & Research in Social Education. Advance online publication. https://doi.org/10.1080/00933104.2022.2129536