As spring quietly turns toward early summer in Kamakura, the beauty of the season stands in sharp contrast to the ongoing conflicts around the world. Watching the news each morning, one cannot help but ask: why do wars begin, and why do they never seem to end?
The song of the bush warbler has grown more refined.
At Tsurugaoka Hachimangu Shrine, the cherry blossoms have already become a drifting carpet on the water.
Hints of summer are in the air, and the season is steadily moving from spring toward early summer.
And yet, the attacks on Iran by the United States and Israel show no sign of subsiding.
The situation only grows more complex, and concerns over energy security continue to rise.
It is often said that the wealthy do not fight, and one might think that an oil-producing nation like Iran would have little reason to engage in war.
Yet, a series of circumstances must have accumulated to bring things to this point.
Gaza, Ukraine, and now Iran—
each time images of war appear on the screen, I am struck by their futility.
When I see cities reduced to rubble, transformed into something far removed from their original purpose, I cannot help but feel that this is all profoundly wasteful.
Those who initiate wars pursue their ideals, even at the cost of soldiers’ lives.
Perhaps they do so in the belief that they are seeking some form of human happiness.
But can war truly bring happiness?
In the long history of humanity, has there ever been a war that genuinely led to happiness?
Someone is always hurt, lives are lost, and what remains in the end are devastated cities.
What, then, is reconstruction for?
Why do humans wage war?
And why does it never disappear?
I find myself unable to explain this deeply contradictory aspect of human behavior.
