War in God's Name and the Quiet Responsibility of Tourism
When political or religious leaders invoke God's name to justify war, violence ceases to be presented as a political decision and begins to be portrayed as an alleged moral necessity. This is precisely where one of the most dangerous shifts in public discourse lies: war is no longer merely a tool of power, territory, or geopolitical pressure, but is instead being elevated to the level of a sacred duty. Such a shift erases the boundaries that should restrain violence, because it makes any criticism an easier target for accusations of disloyalty, unbelief, or betrayal of the community. In a world already burdened by wars, polarization, and a crisis of trust, such rhetoric further devastates the space for reason, diplomacy, and basic human solidarity.
In recent months, both international institutions and religious authorities have warned precisely about this danger. In his Palm Sunday homily on March 29, 2026, Pope Leo XIV stated that Jesus is the “King of peace” whom no one may use to justify war. In doing so, he once again clearly drew the line between faith as a call to human dignity and religion as a political instrument. Similar warnings have in recent years also come from the United Nations and the Office of the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, which emphasize that religious differences are increasingly being instrumentalized for political gain, the incitement of fear, and the justification of violence. This is not merely a theoretical warning, but a diagnosis of the contemporary world in which symbols of the sacred are often turned into rhetorical weapons.
When Religion Becomes a Political Weapon
The problem does not begin at the moment when the first bombs fall, but much earlier, in language. Wars are first normalized through discourse that portrays the opponent as a threat not only to the state but also to faith, identity, and the moral order itself. In such a framework, there is no room left for complexity. People are divided into “us” and “them,” and political conflict acquires the features of a holy conflict. Once that happens, every limitation on force becomes weakness, and every call for negotiations is easily portrayed as yielding to evil. That is precisely why invoking God in war propaganda is so devastating: it not only justifies violence, but attempts to give it an aura of righteousness.
This has consequences broader than the battlefield itself. When religious language is placed in the service of war, religion itself also suffers, because its moral authority is spent on legitimizing destruction. Believers are then sent the message that belonging is more important than conscience, that loyalty to the group is more important than human dignity, and that the suffering of others may be relativized if it comes from the “wrong” side of the border. Such logic does not end with the formal conclusion of conflict. It remains alive in societies, in education, in the media, and in the intergenerational transmission of distrust. That is why war waged in God's name destroys not only cities and lives, but also the moral infrastructure of communities.
It is precisely for this reason that the United Nations has for years warned that violence based on religion or belief is not an isolated phenomenon, but part of a broader pattern of discrimination, stigmatization, and political manipulation. When official international institutions speak of the instrumentalization of religious differences, they are in fact describing a process in which identity is used to mobilize fear and obedience. This is an important formulation because it reminds us that religion in itself is not the cause of war, but it can become a powerful instrument in the hands of those who want to make war more acceptable, more necessary, or even sacred. Resistance to that abuse is therefore not an attack on faith, but a defense of its fundamental moral meaning.
Why Resistance to This Logic Is a Social Obligation
In democratic societies, it is not enough to expect diplomacy or international law alone to stop dangerous ideological patterns. Institutions are important, but equally important is the social climate in which citizens, media, universities, cultural institutions, religious communities, and civil society refuse to accept that violence is legitimate if it is wrapped in the language of the sacred. When such resistance is absent, the propaganda framework quickly becomes everyday reality. War discourse enters television studios, political campaigns, sermons, and social networks, while the moral sensitivity of the public gradually weakens.
Religious leaders bear particular responsibility in this regard. When they clearly reject any possibility that God be used as an alibi for killing, they are not merely expressing a theological position but intervening in the political sphere and setting a limit on what power is allowed to do with religious symbols. Yet responsibility does not end with them. The media have an obligation to recognize and expose the moment when a political message ceases to be a state strategy and begins to become moral blackmail. Educational institutions have the task of teaching the difference between identity and exclusivity. The cultural sector must preserve space for empathy, dialogue, and remembrance of the human cost of ideological conflicts.
In that sense, resistance to war in God's name is not a matter of abstract ethics, but of defending the public sphere from language that abolishes humanity. Once the idea is accepted that violence is morally exalted simply because it is clothed in religious symbolism, society relinquishes one of its last mechanisms of self-control. That is why it is crucial to keep reminding ourselves that no state, army, or political agenda has a monopoly over God, truth, or the dignity of the victim.
Where Tourism Appears in This Story
At first glance, tourism may seem like a marginal subject in a discussion about war, religion, and political manipulation. Yet it is precisely in that apparent distance that its particular importance lies. Tourism is not just an industry of overnight stays, airline tickets, and consumption. It is one of the few global systems whose very foundation rests on encounters between people, on crossing borders, and on the willingness to see others not merely through stereotypes or hostile images. When it functions responsibly, tourism creates an experience of immediacy: the face, city, custom, food, language, and daily life of the other cease to be abstract notions and become a concrete human reality.
That is why the United Nations also does not describe tourism solely in economic terms. In his message marking World Tourism Day 2024, UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres emphasized that tourism connects people and can contribute to peace, while UN Tourism dedicated the same year to the theme “Tourism and Peace,” emphasizing that travel, cultural exchange, and sustainable tourism practices can help reduce tensions, reconciliation, and mutual understanding. The following year, in the message for World Tourism Day 2025, the emphasis was placed on the fact that tourism strengthens the bonds between people and places, builds bridges between cultures, and reminds us of our shared humanity. These are messages that sound almost modest compared with the loud rhetoric of war, yet their political strength lies precisely in that modesty.
Tourism as a Corrective to a World of Closed Identities
War propaganda always seeks a simplified image of the other. For conflict to be sustainable, the “other” must remain distant, flat, and reduced to a label. Tourism, when it is not colonial, exploitative, or aggressive toward the local community, works in the opposite direction. It opens cracks in predetermined perceptions. It shows that behind abstract labels stand real lives, families, local histories, religious practices, and everyday interests that are often more similar than political elites wish to admit. It is not realistic to claim that travel by itself can stop war, but it is realistic to claim that in the long term it reduces the space for dehumanization.
This dimension is especially visible in societies marked by historical traumas. Where there is cultural exchange, cross-border cooperation, local guides, joint heritage projects, and encounters between people from different backgrounds, there is less room for maintaining myths of absolute incompatibility. Tourism then does not act as spectacle, but as an infrastructure of trust. That is precisely why UN Tourism in its documents and programs speaks increasingly often about a “peace-sensitive sector,” that is, a sector that must be aware of the political and social context in which it operates. In doing so, tourism is defined not only as an economic activity but also as a social practice with ethical consequences.
It is important here to avoid romanticization. Tourism can deepen inequalities, destroy local communities, and reduce culture to a consumable backdrop. It can also become a tool of political marketing through which states conceal repression or the consequences of war. That is precisely why the sector's responsibility is not automatic. It exists only when tourism respects the local population, cultural heritage, human rights, and the limits of sustainability. In other words, not every form of tourism is peacebuilding. But tourism based on respect, the inclusion of local communities, and genuine encounters has the potential to be one of the few soft correctives to a world that is rearming and becoming ideologically rigid once again.
Economic Power That Also Carries Political Responsibility
The claim that tourism has social responsibility gains additional weight when one looks at its global economic strength. According to UN Tourism data, around 1.52 billion international tourist arrivals were recorded worldwide in 2025, showing that the sector has not only recovered but has returned to a path of growth despite geopolitical tensions. WTTC estimates that tourism and travel in 2025 should contribute around 11.7 trillion US dollars to the global economy and support about 371 million jobs. This means that it is one of the world's largest economic systems, but also a sector whose messages, practices, and investments have broader consequences than profit alone.
When such a large sector speaks of sustainability, inclusiveness, cooperation, and peace, that is not an insignificant addition to corporate reports, but a signal about what kind of international relations it wants to support. If tourism truly connects places, capital, workers, travelers, cultural institutions, and local communities, then it participates in shaping the social climate. The question, therefore, is not whether tourism should be politically neutral, but whether it can at all afford false neutrality at a time when war, propaganda, and religious instrumentalization are destroying the foundations of trust on which it itself depends.
For destinations that depend on tourism, this fact is particularly important. There is no stable tourism without security, predictability, openness, and a minimum of mutual trust. Nor is there a long-term sustainable tourism economy if the public space becomes permanently saturated with the language of sacred hostility. That is why the interests of tourism extend beyond the interests of the industry: defending dialogue, cultural exchange, and human dignity is not only a moral choice but also a precondition for sustainable development.
The Quiet but Real Responsibility of the Sector
What does that responsibility mean in practice? Above all, it means rejecting the logic in which people and destinations are viewed exclusively through profit or propaganda. It means investing in development models that do not displace the local population, do not turn heritage into empty scenery, and do not fuel a sense of humiliation among those who bear the greatest burden of tourism while receiving the least benefit from it. It also means supporting projects of cultural cooperation, education, joint heritage management, and the responsible presentation of sensitive historical topics.
It also means that the tourism industry, public institutions, and local authorities must be aware of the language they use when speaking about others. If tourism is a space of encounter, then it must actively avoid stereotypes, exoticization, and the trivialization of someone else's faith, culture, or historical trauma. Otherwise, it ceases to be a bridge and becomes yet another mechanism of simplification. In a time of heightened global tensions, it is precisely such “small” professional decisions that matter: how communities are presented, how sacred spaces are interpreted, how a conflict-ridden past is discussed, and how the local population is given a voice in the story of its own destination.
At the international level, this also implies a clearer rejection of attempts to place travel, pilgrimages, cultural tourism, or religious heritage in the service of nationalist mobilization. Faith and heritage can be powerful sources of encounter, but they can just as easily become scenery for messages of exclusivity. That is precisely why it is important that institutions, cities, travel organizers, and cultural actors insist on the language of respect rather than competition in holiness, the right to victimhood, or civilizational superiority.
In a World of Loud Wars, Quiet Bridges Matter Too
At a time when the public sphere is easily filled with the language of absolute truths, pure identities, and historical missions, it is necessary to defend all those spheres of life that remind us that people are, first and foremost, human beings. This does not mean ignoring political reality or pretending that travel can replace diplomacy. It only means recognizing that resistance to the logic of war is also built outside military and state institutions. It is built in language, education, culture, faith, the media, and every space in which the other ceases to be a symbol and once again becomes a person.
That is why tourism, with all its contradictions, is important precisely as a quiet social force. It does not have the power to stop tanks, but it does have the power to undermine the prejudices without which tanks arrive more easily. It does not have the power to write a peace agreement, but it can help societies not forget what ordinary human closeness looks like. At the moment when some leaders are still trying to portray war as a sacred duty, every domain that preserves the experience of encounter, exchange, and mutual recognition becomes part of the defense of moral boundaries. And without those boundaries, no politics, no faith, and no economy can remain humane in the long term.
Sources:- - Vatican, homily of Pope Leo XIV on Palm Sunday, March 29, 2026, with the message that Jesus, the “King of peace,” cannot be used to justify war (link)
- - United Nations Secretary-General, message for the International Day Commemorating the Victims of Acts of Violence Based on Religion or Belief, August 22, 2025, about attacks on people because of their beliefs and the need to reject divisions (link)
- - OHCHR, overview on combating intolerance against persons based on religion or belief, with a warning that religious differences are being instrumentalized for political gain (link)
- - UN Tourism, World Tourism Day 2024 on the theme “Tourism and Peace,” on the role of travel, cultural exchange, and sustainable practices in reducing tensions and fostering understanding (link)
- - United Nations Secretary-General, message for World Tourism Day 2024, stating that tourism connects people and can contribute to peace (link)
- - UN Tourism, World Tourism Day 2025 and the message that tourism strengthens the ties between people and places and builds bridges between cultures (link)
- - UN Tourism, data on international tourist arrivals in 2025, estimated at around 1.52 billion (link)
- - WTTC, overview of the organization's mission and goal of fostering peace, security, and understanding through the travel and tourism sector (link)
- - WTTC, estimate of the sector's economic impact in 2025, including its contribution to global GDP and employment (link)
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