In war, we are told that truth dies first. Today, something even more disturbing is happening: the deaths of children are being explained and justified. That is not just a tragedy; it is a dangerous shift in how we see human life. Children do not start wars. They do not carry weapons. They do not choose sides. Yet, when violence begins, their lives are often the first to be lost.

War is usually described in terms of power, strategy and victory. But in reality, it becomes something else: a storm where those who create it remain protected, while the smallest and weakest are left exposed.

The deeper problem today is not only that children are dying. It is that their deaths are slowly being accepted. The killing of innocent civilians, including children, is often called “collateral damage”, as if their deaths are an acceptable cost in pursuit of a larger goal. This language does more than describe; it excuses. It allows powerful actors to avoid responsibility and weakens the very laws meant to protect children in war.

A recent strike on a school in Minab, Iran, during the first day of a US–Israel attack reportedly killed more than 160 schoolgirls. In minutes, a place of learning turned into a place of grief. Later, these deaths were described as collateral damage. But this term cannot carry the weight of what happened. These were young girls with books, dreams and futures, now reduced to numbers in reports.

Sadly, this is not new. We have seen some of the worst attacks in the years following the “War on Terror”. Pakistan still carries the pain of the Army Public School attack in 2014, where more than 140 children were killed in their classrooms. In the United States, the Sandy Hook shooting took young lives. In Nigeria, Boko Haram attacked schools and kidnapped children, including the Chibok girls.

And it did not stop there. In Yemen, a school bus was hit in 2018, killing dozens of children. In Lebanon, airstrikes in Qana in 2006 killed many civilians, including children. In Gaza, Israeli actions over the years have taken the lives of thousands of children.

These events happened in different places and under different conditions. Some were acts of terrorism; others were part of military operations. But one pattern stands out: many perpetrators were never truly held to account. When there is no accountability, violence does not stop; it becomes bolder and more frequent.

Children suffer the most because of the way wars are now fought. Conflicts take place in crowded cities, close to homes, schools and hospitals. Children, because of their age and vulnerability, are the least able to protect themselves.

We are also told that modern weapons are “precise”. But are they? Even the most advanced systems cannot eliminate human error, fear or poor judgement. When decisions are rushed or careless, innocent lives are lost.

As law enforcers, we were taught a simple rule: if an operation risks harming innocent people, especially children, it must be stopped or changed. No goal is so important that it can justify the death of innocent children. Still, this basic principle is often ignored.

Another serious concern is what happens after such tragedies. There are statements of regret. Investigations are promised. But real action rarely follows. In many cases, responsibility is widely understood, yet meaningful steps are not taken. States avoid strong responses because of political interests and power. This weakens trust in international law and global justice.

There are rules meant to protect civilians. The Geneva Conventions and the United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child clearly state that children must be protected, even during war. But these rules only work when countries choose to follow them. When powerful actors ignore them without consequences, these protections begin to lose meaning.

Language also plays a dangerous role. Terms like “collateral damage”, “precision strike” or “kinetic action” make violence sound distant and controlled. They remove the human face of tragedy. It becomes easier to read about deaths without feeling their impact.

Numbers do the same. Reports may say that dozens were killed, but each number represents a child with a name, a family and a future. When we see only numbers, we begin to lose our sense of humanity.

I have seen this up close. Visiting a crime scene involving children is one of the most painful experiences. One case still stays with me: a father killed his nine children and his wife because he felt he could not provide for them. It broke my heart, and I carry it even today. Since then, I often ask myself: how do those who plan or order such violence live with it? How do they go home and face their own children?

To me, this is the real test. If we are serious about protecting children, we must do more than express sorrow. The law must apply equally to all. Investigations must be honest and transparent. Those responsible must be held accountable, no matter how powerful they are. We must also stop using language that hides the truth.

The killing of children should never be accepted as a normal part of conflict. It is not a side effect; it is a failure of responsibility. Because the moment a child’s death becomes just a number or a technical term, we do not just lose clarity; we lose our conscience.

Tailpiece: It is strange. Many soldiers carry pictures of their own children close to their hearts, but on the battlefield, other children become just numbers. War does not just change actions; it changes conscience itself.

Dr Syed Kaleem ImamThe writer is a former federal secretary and IGP- PhD in Politics and IR-teaching Law and Philosophy at Universities. He tweets @Kaleemimam. Email:skimam98@hotmail.com: fb@ syedkaleemimam

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