
Has the time come to put an end to the glorification of war in literature?
With the beginning of the eight-year war between Iraq and Iran, government and non-government writers tried to open a field in literature that, although had a history and tradition in many countries, was considered insignificant and weak in our narrative literature. This branch of literature, although small and weak, also became trapped in numerous cognitive problems. Since the war was still ongoing, authorities tried to use literature as a tool to incite and provoke popular resistance against the enemy. Therefore, the emergence of slogan-based, government-sponsored and commissioned literature in that critical period is understandable and even justifiable. The formal and content-related damage of this branch of literature is a detailed topic that cannot be addressed here, but it should be noted that in such literature, due to fear of the enemy’s exploitation, nothing is said about how war destroys the world of children and if they survive its deadly disasters, how their minds and souls may remain poisoned until the end of their lives. Similarly, we do not find much about the suffering
This is how the term “anti-war” became a label for discrediting and suppressing any call for peace and any critical view of the phenomenon of war; and we said that although this approach was understandable during times of war, it was expected that with the end of war and the removal of the war atmosphere and conditions, we could look at other aspects of war, such as the lost childhoods, the lost beloved women, the mothers and fathers who lost their children, and so on. But unfortunately, on the same path, the proponents of war continued to spin different narratives with the heavy weapon of being “anti-war”. The best works of our war literature, from “Burnt Land” by Ahmad Mahmoud to “I Am the Killer of Your Son” by Ahmad Dehqan, from “Suddenly a Flood” by Sahabi to “The Night of the Bat” by Mojabi, and from “Mahagh” by Kooshan to “Scorpion on the Stairs of
Therefore, I believe the time has come for us to redefine our definitions of these words and free ourselves from the burden of political and ideological labels after the passing of these not-so-short years since the end of the war. We must ask, what is war literature and what is anti-war literature?
War literature refers to literature that describes and depicts the phenomenon of war and its indirect effects on societies and humans – such as the conditions behind the front lines, the impact of war on the environment and civilians, and the consequences of war such as famine, poverty, unemployment, etc. Based on this definition, a work may be considered part of war literature without directly portraying the front lines, soldiers, guns, and cannons.
But anti-war literature is essentially a type of literature that emphasizes the negative aspects of war and expresses hatred towards it, in addition to advocating for peace. However, these definitions are not necessarily accurate, as what we call war literature is not always war-mongering, and in many cases, literature about war is considered as a form of defense and resistance against invasion and aggression.
The truth is that whether we like it or not, we are faced with a type of conflict. Whether knowingly or unknowingly, we also include anti-war literature under the title of war literature. Therefore, there is no solution other than to consider any work that has a connection to the subject of war – whether they view it positively or negatively – as part of war literature. But then we are forced to also branch out for this title, and categorize different works.
In this categorization, we can list different titles such as: anti-war literature (usually for invading countries but defeated like Germany in both World Wars), resistance literature (for victim and occupied countries like France in World War II), patriotic literature (for invaded countries but ultimately victorious like the Soviet Union), front literature (which describes the front line of battle between two opposing forces), home front literature (which focuses on the impact of war on non-military spaces), captivity literature (which describes the experiences of war prisoners), escape literature (which tells the stories of war escapees), exile literature (which includes the experiences of refugees caused by war), and civil war literature (which mainly involves groups within a country in conflict with each other instead of an external enemy).
This list can continue with other titles, but the truth is that all of these lists are practically known under the literature of war.
But another joke is that we in Iran often use two titles to refer to war literature: literature of the Sacred Defense and literature of sustainability. The truth is that among these two, I personally prefer the title of sustainability. One of the reasons for this preference is that the word sustainability or defense, whether we like it or not, also carries a positive connotation. Another reason is that when we use the title “literature of the Sacred Defense”, even if our intention is to refer to defense, we have exempted and prohibited it from any criticism and evaluation. Are we not allowed to criticize a literary work that praises our defense against enemy invasion? And if we are allowed, why do we insist on calling this literature sacred? Another point is, is sanctity only exclusive to us? Can’t the partisans of Yugoslavia or the victims of Nazi crematoriums be as honorable and noble as our martyrs? Will our sanctimoniousness prevent any criticism and evaluation in a biased and dog
In my opinion, despite exceptions and inaccuracies in this statement, let us accept that any preferred defense and any war-mongering is condemnable. And if there is any value in judgment, let us be careful not to call warmongers defenders of stability, nor portray those who oppose violence and bloodshed as against defense and stability in the path of freedom.

