IT HAS felt like a rare display of unity. The Prime Minister’s plans to increase military spending to 2.5 per cent of GDP from April 2027 have been welcomed by the Conservative, Liberal Democrat, and Reform leaders, who have quibbled only over details.
Such a level of agreement may be a relief to people who are fed up with political bickering. But unity among the powerful and privileged can be dangerous. It often fails to reflect the experiences of people whose daily life is very different. When that is so, churches can play an important part in speaking up for truth and complexity.
It is often assumed, without question, that weapons make us safe. I accept that there are contexts in which the possession of weapons might, at least in the short-term, render someone safer than they would be otherwise. But it is extremely naïve always to equate “more weapons” with “more safety”.
The UK Government already has the fifth highest military budget in the world: about £57 billion in 2024-25. The year before Russian troops invaded Ukraine, British military spending was even higher than Russia’s, but this failed to deter the invasion. Trying to deter President Putin with yet more weapons means throwing billions of pounds at an already failed strategy.
The latest Sunday Express declared, on the front page, that the British army was “too small” to fight a war. General Richard Barrons, co-author of the Strategic Defence Review, wants British people to train to be “prepared” for war.
Of course, it is sometimes necessary to prepare for something while working to avoid it, such as fires or natural disasters. But a war between nuclear-armed states is not something to prepare for. Go to war on Monday and most of the world’s population could be dead on Tuesday. By Wednesday, nobody will care about the size of armies.
THE words “defence” and “security” are consistently and misleadingly equated with preparations for war. When I was a child, and my father was on the dole, security involved a dry and warm place to live, enough to eat, and the support of family and friends. Years of austerity since then have made more people insecure. I suspect that individuals who have never had to worry about paying the bills find it easier to equate security with war.
Ministers have made “difficult choices” to cut Personal Independence Payments (PIP) and Universal Credit to save £5 billion per year. When Sir Keir Starmer last week committed £15 billion to new nuclear warheads, he did not describe it as a difficult choice.
Churches, like many other faith communities, include recipients of PIP and Universal Credit. Besides counting people in poverty among its members, churches encounter poverty through foodbanks, night shelters, and other services. We are in a strong position to challenge talk of “security”.
The Government’s own reviews, in 2010, 2015, and 2018, listed epidemics or pandemics as security threats, as well as climate change and natural disasters, along with military attacks. Yet ministers focused almost solely on the latter, leaving us unprepared for the fatal danger of Covid. Have we learnt nothing since then?
The militarist narratives invite us to accept a reassuringly comfortable fantasy in which UK troops only ever fight defensively and to protect democracy. In reality, the ministers who rightly condemn Russian aggression in Ukraine supply weapons and military training to Saudi and Israeli forces that are committing similar atrocities in Yemen and Gaza. US troops stationed at British bases in the UK are now commanded by the far-Right Trump regime. Meanwhile, the Russian Movement of Conscientious Objectors says that it is “virtually impossible” for Russians who refuse to fight to gain asylum in the UK.
THE decision to trust in war is essentially theological. We are invited to put our faith in military might, despite the failure of nearly all wars to achieve their stated aims.
Russian militarism is real. We are often asked what “we” should do about it. “We” usually means the UK government and its troops. The answer is often to promote British, US, or NATO militarism as if that were any better. Instead, let’s ask what we — ordinary people in our own communities and churches — can do.
We can campaign for real security, including freedom from poverty, pandemics, and climate change. We can work across borders, seeking communication with people in Russia, Ukraine, Israel, Palestine, and elsewhere who work for peace. War Resisters International, which brings together both secular and religious peace groups around the world, is a good place to start.
The more we trust in war, the more likely war becomes; or, as Jesus said, those who take up the sword will die by the sword. In the years before the First World War, British and German governments ramped up military spending while saying, “If you want peace, prepare for war.” Twenty million people died to make clear that, if you prepare for war, then war is what you are likely to get.
Militarism still tempts us. That is the way with idols: they always let us down, and yet we are still drawn back by their lies. How many more lives will we sacrifice if we fall for the idols of militarism once again?
Symon Hill is a Free Church Chaplain at Aston University. His latest book is The Peace Protestors: A history of modern-day war resistance (Pen & Sword, 2022) (Books, 23 December 2022).
