*Pre-Script to Editha, a Short Story
A recent report estimates that 1 in every 31 young Russian men is a casualty of war. In under three years, Russia has lost nearly one million soldiers. One million lives—sons, brothers, friends—sacrificed for what? Who will stop this madness? Who will end the senseless slaughter of an entire generation?
These weren’t just victims of Putin’s war. They were victims of a nation’s quiet surrender to propaganda, to blind obedience, to the myth that war is noble. A million young men could have resisted. Could have said “no.” Yes, they might have died for it—during a revolt, an uprising, call it what you will. But they didn’t. And now they’re gone.
This isn’t just about one man’s tyranny. It’s about a system upheld by silence. A corrupt state, a brainwashed public, and a culture that rewards compliance over conscience. No one is blaming the soldiers—but we must blame the system that convinces them to go.
In Editha, William Dean Howells captured this very dynamic more than a century ago. The title character, Editha, represents the romantic idealism that dresses up war as something beautiful and heroic. Her boyfriend, George, hesitant and thoughtful, voices his doubts. Yet when he says simply, “It’s war,” she pulls him to her and declares, “How glorious!”
Howells warns us: Idealism, unexamined, is dangerous. War is not glorious. It is brutal. It is wasteful. And it demands that we ask—before anyone else asks it for us—Is this worth a life?