With the Iraq Conflict coming to its formal conclusion, it seems a worthy moment to reflect on war. Specifically, how our understanding of what war is has changed.

The dictionary will have multiple definitions of war, but I think there are two essential understandings:

1. A situation in which two or more entities publicly, intentionally, and formally engage in armed conflict.
2. The engagement of two or more entities in conflict with the intention of either destruction or death for one’s opponent.

The first definition is our historic understanding of war: two nations engage one another in combat with a formal declaration of war. But this no longer happens. We don’t declare war and we don’t mutually engage. Not in the same way.

You might say that a formal declaration is quaint or archaic. There’s no point in it when another army is at your doorstep. It is certainly not how a fascist government attacks its own people:

“Hello, my people! We are formally declaring war on you! And by we, I mean your military and by you, I mean all citizens that oppose me or are racially connected to those that oppose me!”

That, of course, is absurd.

There is also some obvious place for direct action doing the dirty work for you. Say, when you invade another country or massacre your people. It doesn’t really seem like a formal declaration is needed; we get the gist!

The problem, of course, is without that specific structure, we lose authenticity in our claims. If we can’t get a majority in congress to declare war, then how can their be consensus? And without consensus, how does the nation go to war? Similarly, without formal entities, how do we even consider the conflict legitimate? I’m not even speaking about Just War Theory here, I’m thinking basic understanding of conflict at any level: if there is no real “we” and no real “them” and no best practices for engagement and no real means of determining what “victory” looks like and, let’s be honest the “them” doesn’t even understand why they’re being attacked, then how dare we call anything about this “war”?

These problems bleed over into all of those other dubious uses of the term “war,” particularly “the culture war” and “the war on Christmas”.  In both cases, there is some erroneous assumption that there are two entities colliding for a particular reason and that aggressive action is expected. But neither really passes a cursory “sniff test”. Can you name a singular entity doing something nefarious? Are they making coordinated “assaults” on anyone’s “bank head”? What is victory? And, my favorite part, do they even know that you are attacking them? Of course not! There is no real “us” and “them”. There is only the specters of undefinable “Others” that look suspiciously exactly like you.

A few years ago, I wrote a letter to the editor of the LA Times. I was peeved that in attempting to describe what was going on in the Episcopal Church, the journalist simply called it part of “the culture wars,” which we all know is code for The Sexcapades. My response was to point out several things, particularly that the primary split wasn’t over matters of sex, 1) but of power and authority; 2) plans had been in place to split in Pittsburgh and parts of Virginia since before the early 80’s; 3) and most seeking departure from the existing institution were using the cover of purity to excuse their aggressive provocation: leaving the existing institution.

Then on Saturday, I skewered the phony “war on Christmas” with my own rant about its ridiculousness. But it, like the phony culture war are misrepresentations of what war really is. When we talk about war, we must keep its definition manageable so that we can discern what types of conflict are and what their value is to us. This is much like the trouble the Arab Spring brought up this year as some places saw peaceful protest lead to regime change, while others led to massacres and burgeoning civil wars. The conundrum is this: dare we call it civil war when a disorganized, over-matched populace attempts to prevent genocide? Is the presence of aggression and retaliation so simple a thing as to warrant the term war? And should we so devalue such a word as to call anything in which we feel the slightest victimhood a “war on us”?

My war litmus test is to rephrase an earlier question: Does the so-called aggressor even know they’ve done something? If no, it can’t be a war. And if there is no “them” to speak for “them” then its a double-no.

And if the person who fires the first bullet claims to be the victim of some other attack? Triple-no. You can call it a conflict, but that sure isn’t a war.

For the record, the United States did not formally declare war on Iraq. The Senate didn’t even vote to authorize war. They voted to authorize the president to choose to go to war on our behalf. That is so not the point of war powers. And so not what we should be calling war. Perhaps this conflict is a fitting conclusion to the modern understanding of war and we are waking up to a post-war world. One in which conflicts are less organized, more viral, and way more likely to lead to mass destruction.

Sometimes the best part of when a new day dawns is the sunrise.

And the hope that we will survive to see the sunset.