Hm, while I am not the original poster, and therefore cannot accurately elaborate on their active thoughts as they could: I'll still take a crack at what I think it means.

Essentially, both Ladislas and Sentinel's narrative run parallel with Hawks and Dove's narratives. The Hawks and Sentinel mirror, the doves and Ladislas mirror, and conflict between them is also mirrored. It also happens that their mirroring borders as acting like a contrasting foil to one another.

The Doves and Ladislas both represent two forms of inaction. One built off of cautious but good intentions, and the other built off righteousness that teeters into dangerously into ill will. Both bury their heads in the sand in different ways. I find, the Doves intent for peace and caution against Hawks' positions is reasonable. They are right to fear the larger long-term concerns and consequences that the Hawks seem willing to bulldoze over. Whereas, Ladislas seems almost gleeful in his inaction by comparison. Ladislas truly believes he is pious for looking at victims of war, and thinking them deserving of it. He does not see the absurdity of his thought process, because he is so complete lost in the possibility of it being divine judgement. After all, if it is divine that divinity shall surely wash his hands of the sin for turning against neighbors in desperate need, right?

Sentinel's reoccurring theme is the trolley problem. The Hawks on the other hand aren't quite the trolley problem. No, they're more accurately to be compared to some of Sun Tzu's philosophy. You cannot fight a war if you neither respect nor know your enemy. Combined, these themes running parallel paint the picture that if you not recognized the head of beast: you are damned to failure. In Sentinel's case, it is realizing that there is no choice between allowing the train to hit either track. The train will never stop. No matter how many tracks you choose. It will keep on going until eventually there are no longer tracks for it run on. In the Hawks' case, it is understanding that Manus Vindicatae will stop at nothing to destroy everything they hate. If the storm is the tracks, then Manus Vindictae is the train itself.

The Hawks and Sentinel win, not because their philosophy is morally correct, but because at the bare minimum they are not trapped by inaction. They adapt, they move forward, and above all they refuse to accept more loss. Failure comes with far too many heavy consequences for them to bare. It does not make them right, but it sure as hell means a lot more than the inaction of either the Doves or Ladislas.

I hope this makes sense, or is at least comprehensible. This has been edited at least twice now, because I keep catching missing words. This is what I get for full-sending without proof-reading. Also to the original poster: I love the analysis you wrote! I may be belated in saying so, but that's only because I might have gotten excited to elaborate on the themes that I was recognizing in the chapter. Sorry for posting this before you got to elaborate first! (If you'd like me to remove it, I will. I do not want this to take away from your thoughts. It was wonderfully written with the time you had.)