November 11, 1918: the day the world finally said, “That’s enough!” and put an end to World War I. They called it “the war to end all wars.” Spoiler alert: it wasn’t. But for a moment, humanity let itself believe that all the horror, all the blood, all the mud (so much mud) would teach us something, that we’d walk away wiser, vowing never to do anything like that again.
Fast forward to 2024, and guess what? We’ve learned… exactly zero lessons. Here we are, with Donald Trump reelected, wondering if Armistice Day was actually meant to be a one-time deal or just a recurring theme.
Let’s rewind a little. How did we even end up with World War I in the first place? Well, imagine Europe as one big, dysfunctional family reunion. You’ve got all these empires—Austria-Hungary, Germany, Russia, France, Britain—hanging around the punch bowl, throwing side-eye at each other. Everybody’s part of a different “alliance” and making these back-alley pacts, like kids promising to back each other up in a playground fight. And then—because all it ever takes is one relative to set things off—along comes a Serbian nationalist who assassinates Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the Austrian heir, and… boom. The whole powder keg explodes. Suddenly, it’s not just a playground scuffle. It’s 30 nations diving headfirst into an industrial-sized meat grinder.
We’re talking about trench warfare, folks. Imagine digging a hole, living in it for weeks on end, and every once in a while, someone lobs a grenade your way just to keep things interesting. The soldiers weren’t just fighting the enemy; they were fighting disease, rats the size of small dogs, and a stench so bad it would make you nostalgic for a New York City subway car in August. And let’s not forget the gas. Chlorine gas was the military’s latest “innovation”—the equivalent of trying to win a boxing match by chucking wasp spray in the other guy’s face. It was brutal, it was awful, and it was—get this—all in the name of democracy. “The world must be made safe for democracy,” declared President Woodrow Wilson, a guy whose speeches could put a coffee addict to sleep but who managed to fire up America for its first real outing in the world of messy European politics.
So, what was World War I really about? Power, influence, and a whole lot of ego. It was basically a bunch of countries looking at each other and saying, “Yeah? Think you’re tough? Prove it.” And the people who paid the price were mostly the folks huddling in trenches, trying to stay alive. “We are the dead,” wrote Wilfred Owen, a soldier and poet who captured the spirit of the war. Owen was killed a week before the Armistice, just one of the millions of lives snuffed out in a conflict that was supposed to “make the world safe.” Safe for whom, you ask? Well, apparently not for any of the people actually fighting it.
Then came the Treaty of Versailles, which was supposed to wrap everything up neatly. Spoiler alert again: it didn’t. The treaty was like trying to put out a fire by dumping gasoline on it. Instead of building a lasting peace, they decided to squeeze Germany for every cent it had, cutting down its military, taking its land, and setting the stage for… well, let’s just say things didn’t go according to plan. It was like taking the school bully, kicking him down the stairs, and saying, “Let’s see you try that again!” Spoiler alert part three: He did.
Cut to the 1920s and 1930s. While everyone was nursing their post-war hangover, along came this guy named Adolf Hitler, who took one look at Germany’s smoldering resentment and said, “Hey, I can work with this.” And we all know where that led.
So, let’s talk parallels. What’s this all got to do with us, right here, right now, in the United States, 2024? Well, if World War I was a lesson in how unchecked power and ego can spiral out of control, our current situation isn’t so different. With Trump back in office, we’re facing our own dance with division, distrust, and a little thing I like to call democracy-optional governance. You see, in the run-up to the First World War, leaders stopped seeing negotiation and cooperation as options. They were too busy one-upping each other, and nobody wanted to be the first to back down. Sound familiar?
Let’s be real here. A century later, we still can’t agree on the basics. And just like in the lead-up to World War I, we’ve got our own web of alliances—NATO, the UN—meant to keep the peace, but they’re looking pretty strained. You’ve got countries turning inward, leaders shrugging off accountability, and populist strongmen everywhere whipping up the crowd. It’s like the early 20th century but with Twitter and better special effects.
And here’s the kicker: democracy doesn’t just protect itself. It’s fragile, like a puppy or an iPhone screen. That’s what Armistice Day should remind us. After the war, Woodrow Wilson had this grand idea for a League of Nations, a place where countries could come together, hash out their issues without lobbing grenades over borders. But America said, “Nah, we’re good,” and without its biggest supporter, the League fizzled. By 1939, the world was at war again, and all that sacrifice, all that hope for a world without conflict? Gone in a flash.
Now, here we are, feeling a bit like the post-Versailles world: divided, resentful, and edging toward conflict. Armistice Day should be our cue to wake up, to remember that power unchecked is a threat, that democracy requires actual work—preferably before we’re all knee-deep in metaphorical mud. Because if we ignore history, if we shrug off the warning signs, then Armistice Day will be just another date on the calendar, another symbol of what could have been, and we’ll find ourselves right back in the trenches. Only this time, there’s no guarantee we’ll get another chance at peace.
