The illusion of collective decision-making
Imagine, for a moment, that neither America nor Israel started the current war with Iran.
It sounds absurd because that is exactly how we are conditioned to think.
We say “America and Israel jointly attacked.” “Iran retaliated.”
But pause and look closer: did millions of ordinary citizens in these countries collectively sit down and decide to launch missiles? Of course not.
The same holds for Iran. The Iranian people are not a single, unified actor choosing war. Yet we speak as if the entire population rises as one to fight.
So, who really triggered all this?
Anthropomorphism and the language of war
The answer lies in a subtle but powerful phenomenon called anthropomorphism—the tendency to assign human traits and intentions to non-human entities.
We treat countries like individuals with minds, motives, and emotions. Nations “feel threatened”, “seek revenge”, or “decide to attack”.
In reality, nations don’t act; ruling leaders do.
Understanding this psychological shortcut helps us see how responsibility gets blurred.
When we say, “they started the war”, the pronoun “they” quietly shifts blame from specific decision-makers to entire populations. It is convenient, but dangerously misleading.
As the writer George Orwell once warned, “Political language is designed to make lies sound truthful and murder respectable.” One way it does this is by hiding real actors behind abstract non-human entities, such as “the nation”.
History’s misleading shorthand
History is full of such examples.
We say “America fought in Vietnam”, but it was the decisions of leaders in Washington.
We say “Iraq was invaded”, but it was a strategic call by a handful of policymakers.
We remember Rwanda or Cambodia as sites of horror, yet the architects of those tragedies were specific regimes and individuals—not the land, and not every citizen.
Even today, in conflicts involving Ukraine, Gaza, Israel, Iran, Pakistan, or Afghanistan, entire nations carry the burden of blame.
Meanwhile, the individuals who authorised, escalated, or prolonged these conflicts often fade into the background over time.
What history remembers—and what it forgets
Fast forward a few decades, or a century, and what remains in history books?
Only countries.
Names—today’s powerful decision-makers—gradually blur, debated by historians and forgotten by the public. But nations remain permanently stamped as aggressors or victims.
This is the quiet consequence of anthropomorphism:
We immortalise countries as culprits while allowing real decision-makers to slip through the cracks of time and evade the scrutiny they deserve.
In a few decades or a hundred years from now, names like Donald Trump, Benjamin Netanyahu, and Vladimir Putin may fade, while the nations involved in conflicts will remain fixed in collective memory.
Reclaiming accountability
Wars are not started by “America”, “Israel”, or “Iran” as abstract beings.
They are initiated by leaders.
By humanising nations, we unintentionally dehumanise accountability.
