Opinion and Analysis by Nsengiyumva Patrice /FSDS Global Peace Network
“No to war, yes to peace!”
Introduction
Ever since humanity learned to write, it has written about war. From the epic tales of Antiquity to the contemporary archives of modern conflicts, war has been the stage where ambition, fear, identity, and power collide. Among the most famous testimonies are Julius Caesar’s De Bello Gallico and De Bello Civili, which have survived two millennia as models of military narrative and, equally, as works of political propaganda.
Yet beyond the figure of the conqueror, these texts act as a mirror in which the timeless dynamics of human conflict are reflected. To understand them is also to understand why war keeps returning throughout world history—and, more importantly, why peace is at once fragile, necessary, and possible.
This journey into Rome’s past invites us to reread our own crises: rivalries between powers, identity-based fears, territorial claims, and the resort to force to settle disputes. And perhaps, despite himself, Caesar offers us a powerful lesson: that war, however gloriously it may be depicted, is ultimately a failure of politics.
- War and Power: What Caesar’s Two Works Reveal
- De Bello Gallico: External War as a Foundation of Power
In De Bello Gallico, Caesar recounts his campaigns in Gaul (58–52 BC) in a series of yearly commentaries. Presented as an objective military report, the text is in fact a political weapon.
The conquest is justified by the supposed need to protect Rome: the Helvetii threaten the borders, the Belgae plot, the Germans cross the Rhine… Every action Caesar takes appears defensive, rational, necessary.
But behind this façade lies a different reality: conquering Gaul meant gaining vast political power. Victory brought Caesar wealth, military legitimacy, and popular prestige—the very tools he needed to confront his political rivals. Throughout history, external war has often served to consolidate internal authority: medieval kings, colonial empires, and even modern states have all used this logic.
Caesar thus reminds us of a constant pattern: War often arises less from a real threat than from a political need.
- De Bello Civili: Internal War as the Tearing of the Social Fabric
In De Bello Civili, everything changes: the enemy is no longer a foreign people but other Romans. The conflict pits Caesar against Pompey, the senatorial aristocracy, and an entire faction of the Republic.
Caesar seeks to show that he is not the instigator of the turmoil. The Senate, he claims, humiliated him; Pompey betrayed the political balance; Caesar himself merely defended the liberty of the Roman people. The tone is more tense, more dramatic—almost desperate.
This text reveals another universal mechanism of war: When politics fails, society tears itself apart from within.
In every era, civil wars have been the most violent and destructive: The Fronde in France, the American Civil War, the European revolutions, the ethnic conflicts of the twentieth century or the modern Middle East.
Anger, fear, and propaganda divide citizens into “us” and “them”, even when they have lived together for generations.
Caesar teaches us that civil war is the ultimate sign of political collapse—when speech and law no longer suffice to resolve disagreements.
- War in World History: A Recurring Challenge
Although Caesar’s accounts date from the first century BC, the mechanisms he describes run through all of world history.
- Conquest: A Universal Engine
From the rise of the Sumerian kingdoms to the European colonial expeditions, the conquest of territory and resources has been a constant source of conflict.
The motivations are familiar everywhere:
- to control trade routes,
- to secure borders,
- to exploit natural resources,
- to enhance the prestige of a ruler.
The Mongols, the Ottomans, the British Empire, or the Napoleonic conquests all follow the same pattern: war presented as necessary, civilising, sometimes even as a moral duty.
By portraying the Gauls as “barbarians”, Caesar contributes to a narrative that legitimises domination. History shows that every war of conquest comes with a justificatory story.
- Civil Wars: Internal Collapse
Internal conflicts have been just as frequent:
- the wars between Greek city-states,
- the many Chinese crises (Three Kingdoms, Taiping),
- the European Wars of Religion,
- the Spanish Civil War (1936–1939),
- Rwanda and the former Yugoslavia in the 1990s.
They often arise from deep social fractures: economic, ethnic, ideological. As in De Bello Civili, propaganda plays a decisive role: each side claims to defend legitimacy and justice.
Caesar reflects a universal truth: In civil wars, every camp claims to be right, and none admits its share of responsibility.
- Leadership: War as a Political Tool
Whether Caesar, Alexander, Napoleon, or certain modern leaders, war has often been used as an instrument of power. Military glory, national prestige, or unity against an external enemy can provide convenient distractions from internal tensions.
A thread runs through history: War is often the choice of leaders seeking to secure their authority, not the desire of the people.
Caesar’s writings demonstrate this perfectly: what he frames as the defence of Rome is also the construction of his own political destiny.
III. What Caesar’s Narratives Teach Us About the Mechanics of War
Reading Caesar with hindsight reveals several lessons.
- War Always Begins with a Story
Before the sword comes the word. Before battles come speeches. Caesar constructs the image of a threatening enemy. He dramatises danger. He exaggerates urgency.
Rhetoric is the oldest weapon for initiating conflict. Throughout the ages, leaders have relied on:
- fear,
- suspicion,
- the idea of an imminent threat,
- the defence of honour,
- the need to protect borders.
Even today, the process is the same: War is born of imagination, not just events.
- War Results from Human Decisions, Not Inevitability
Neither the Gallic War nor the Roman Civil War was inevitable.
They resulted from:
- personal rivalries,
- political ambitions,
- ego-driven conflicts,
- diplomatic failures.
This truth applies to the Balkans, the First World War, colonial conflicts, and modern geopolitical tensions. War is never fate—it is a choice.
- War Destroys What It Claims to Save
Caesar claims to protect Rome by fighting in Gaul. But this very conquest builds power so great that it destroys the republican balance.
The phenomenon is recurring: Empires often collapse under the weight of the expansions they sought. By winning abroad, they lose stability at home.
- Why Peace Must Prevail: Lessons for Our Time
Studying Caesar is not merely a historical exercise; it sheds light on today’s challenges. Modern warfare—drones, cyberattacks, nuclear weapons—has changed in form, but its causes remain tragically similar.
- War Offers Only Fragile Victories
The conquest of Gaul could have been a lasting triumph. Yet a few years later, Rome plunged into civil war.
Likewise, imperial or colonial victories in later centuries have almost always led to new tensions—sometimes worse than the original conflict.
War rarely produces stable peace: It leaves resentment, ruins, and trauma.
- Peace Requires More Courage than War
Making war is often the simpler path: a command, a gesture, a provocative speech.
Building peace requires:
- patience,
- diplomacy,
- the recognition of wrongs,
- the ability to listen,
- and long-term vision.
Even Caesar, a formidable conqueror, adopted clementia (clemency) after Pharsalus: he understood that ruling through fear cannot last.
- Cooperation Is More Powerful than Domination
Caesar’s Rome, despite its victories, ultimately plunged into cycles of civil war.
In contrast, periods of peace—such as the Pax Romana, post-war Europe, or certain regional alliances—have allowed art, science, and prosperity to flourish. History is clear: peace builds; war destroys.
- We Bear a Historic Responsibility to Prevent the Irreparable
In Caesar’s time, war involved tens of thousands of soldiers.
Today, it could involve millions of civilians—or threaten the planet itself.
Nuclear weapons, technological militarisation, and rising nationalism make peace more vital than ever.
Caesar wrote to legitimise war. We must write—and act—to legitimise peace.
Conclusion: Rereading Caesar to Choose Peace
Caesar’s commentaries are not merely literary monuments. They are mirrors. In them, we see how war is constructed, narrated, justified, and spread.
Through De Bello Gallico, we see how fear and ambition create conquest. Through De Bello Civili, we see how pride and division tear societies apart.
World history has followed these same mechanisms for millennia. But today, we possess the intellectual, diplomatic, and technological means to break the cycle.
To reread Caesar is to recognise that war is not destiny—it is a choice. And if peace must prevail, it is not out of naïveté, but out of clear-eyed understanding.
For peace is the only path that allows societies to endure, peoples to converse, and individuals to live. War gives the illusion of greatness; peace is its true source.
