We had it all figured out. Born after Vietnam, we were the first American generation in the last century to never know a prolonged war. We convinced ourselves that if we just learned our history well enough, we would not be doomed to repeat it. How wrong we were. We visited Holocaust museums, had college roommates of different races, signed commitments to diversity, and spent spring break in Third World countries building orphanages. If only the prosperity that funded such an education could have funded peace. Unfortunately, it could not. As college students, we read Francis Fukuyama's "The End of...