As a Scot, I instinctively feel a sympathy towards a culture

Hear now, O wanderers and seekers of wisdom, the words of Rory Stewart, a traveler of nations and a witness to many peoples: “As a Scot, I instinctively feel a sympathy towards a culture which is based on generosity. It’s very refreshing. Afghans think they’re the best people in the world and their country is the best place in the world, and it’s strange because you go there and it doesn’t really look like it, and yet they assume that everybody else envies them.” In this statement lies both humility and admiration, a reflection upon the strength of spirit that survives in lands outwardly marked by hardship.

For Stewart speaks first as a Scot, a child of a land shaped by struggle, resilience, and pride. Scotland, long acquainted with poverty and the weight of larger empires, has also been a land of fierce generosity, where hospitality is extended not from abundance but from the conviction that every guest must be honored. Thus, when Stewart walked among the Afghans, he felt a kinship: here too was a people whose wealth lay not in their fields or their cities, but in their hearts. Their culture, built upon giving, upon pride, upon the conviction of their own worth, mirrored something ancient within himself.

The Afghans, though their mountains are barren and their cities worn by war, carry within themselves a radiant certainty. To them, their land is the center of the world, and their people are unmatched in strength and honor. To outsiders, this seems strange, for the eye sees ruin and hardship. Yet Stewart reveals the paradox: their belief is not foolish pride, but the very flame that sustains them. For what nation, broken in outward form, could endure without an inward conviction of greatness? It is the pride of spirit that allows them to stand tall amidst adversity.

History offers us parallels. Consider the Spartans, whose rocky soil yielded little, whose cities were simple and plain. Yet they believed themselves the greatest of all Greeks, and their fierce confidence carried them through wars against far richer foes. Or recall the Jews in exile, scattered and without homeland, who nevertheless held fast to the conviction that they were chosen, that their heritage was a light for the nations. Outwardly weak, inwardly unshaken—such is the strength Stewart admired in the Afghans.

The deeper meaning of his words is this: true wealth is not measured by what the land displays, but by the generosity of its people and the fire of their belief in themselves. A barren place can be a kingdom if its people believe it so, and a ruined land can endure if its people are bound by sympathy and pride. Stewart teaches us that to judge a culture by appearances is folly; it is in the unseen virtues—the conviction of worth, the joy of hospitality, the pride in heritage—that a people’s true treasure lies.

The lesson, O listener, is profound: when you walk among other cultures, do not look only at their riches or their ruins. Look instead at the spirit of the people, for there you will see their greatness. Learn to honor their pride, even if it appears strange to your eyes. Recognize the power of generosity, which can turn poverty into wealth, and the strength of conviction, which can turn weakness into endurance. Such virtues are not bound to geography—they are the inheritance of any who choose to live with dignity.

Therefore, carry this teaching: cultivate sympathy for the pride of others, and do not despise it. For pride, when wedded to generosity, sustains nations through centuries of struggle. In your own life, let your worth not be measured by outward abundance, but by inward certainty of purpose and the kindness you extend to others. In this way, you will stand unshaken, as the Afghans stand, envied not for what you possess, but for the unbreakable spirit that no hardship can destroy.

Thus the words of Rory Stewart resound across time: generosity is the true wealth of a culture, and the belief in one’s worth is its immortal crown. Honor this, and you will see greatness even in the most unlikely of places.