In a revealing analysis of wartime propaganda, journalist Glenn Greenwald has offered a comprehensive breakdown of how governments manufacture public consent for military actions despite their devastating consequences. His comments came in response to a viral social media post predicting that by 2030, Americans would be condemning current military interventions while simultaneously supporting new ones.

The original post on X (formerly Twitter) by user @LearnToToad stated: “Don’t worry guys in 2030 people will be admitting bombing Venezuela was a huge mistake while demanding that you get on board with bombing Iran.”

Greenwald’s detailed response highlights what he describes as a cyclical pattern in how military interventions are sold to the public, then later regretted, only for the cycle to begin anew with different targets.

“It’s important to acknowledge how potent war propaganda is,” Greenwald wrote. “It’s been developed over centuries and stimulates the most visceral tribalistic impulses.”

According to the journalist, the immediate aftermath of U.S. military interventions typically follows a predictable pattern: triumphalism dominates public discourse, with media focusing exclusively on supportive voices while concealing the true costs and unexamined motives. During this period, he suggests, rational debate becomes nearly impossible.

“During this initial burst of war intoxication, there’s no persuasion or reasoning possible. It’s like trying to talk to a drunk person. They’re inebriated on the war glories (of others),” Greenwald explained.

He notes that public enthusiasm typically wanes months or years later when interventions fail to deliver promised outcomes, revealing that “only a tiny fraction benefit at everyone else’s expense” and “the only outcome is bloodshed, autocracy and misery.” By this point, however, many original supporters either deny their initial position or blame implementation failures rather than the intervention itself.

Most critically, Greenwald argues, these belated regrets rarely prevent future conflicts. Instead, new military actions are marketed as righteous and necessary, with opponents characterized as enemies of progress or security. “That’s how a country stays in a posture of endless war,” he concluded.

This analysis comes at a time of heightened global tensions and ongoing conflicts. Critics have pointed to the situation in Gaza, where Palestinian health authorities report over 71,000 casualties and 171,000 injured, as evidence of the international community’s failure to learn from historical atrocities despite post-World War II promises of “never again.”

The discussion also touches on domestic U.S. politics, particularly former President Trump’s campaign promises to end “forever wars” contrasted with his later statements about potential territorial expansion. This apparent contradiction highlights the persistent gap between anti-war rhetoric and actual military policy that spans administrations.

Greenwald’s analysis offers a sobering perspective on how war propaganda functions in modern democracies. By identifying the emotional and psychological mechanisms that enable public support for military actions, he suggests that breaking this cycle requires recognizing these patterns as they unfold rather than only in retrospect.

As international tensions continue to simmer in various global hotspots, this framework provides a valuable lens for citizens to critically evaluate calls for military intervention before, rather than after, the consequences become apparent.