For behind all imperialism is ultimately the imperialistic

The words of Irving Babbitt — “For behind all imperialism is ultimately the imperialistic individual, just as behind all peace is ultimately the peaceful individual.” — strike with the force of eternal truth. They remind us that empires, wars, and treaties are not born of faceless abstractions, but of hearts and minds, of individuals whose inner nature becomes the seed from which great structures of history grow. The fate of nations lies not in stone or sword alone, but in the character of those who wield them.

To understand imperialism, we must look first not at maps but at souls. An empire of conquest begins when a single heart is filled with desire for domination, when ambition outpaces humility, when the hunger to possess overwhelms the call to serve. From this inner storm arises the outward storm of armies, banners, and invasions. So too with peace: it is not forged solely in courts of kings or chambers of diplomats, but in the stillness of an individual spirit, willing to forgive, to restrain, to love. The peaceful individual is the fountain from which rivers of harmony flow.

History offers us countless illustrations of this truth. Consider Alexander the Great: a man of extraordinary vision and brilliance, yet consumed by the fire of conquest. His imperialistic individual spirit drove him to subdue lands from Greece to India, binding them under his banner. Though he built cities and spread knowledge, his empire rested on the restless craving of one man. And when he died, so too did the unity he forged, for it was built not on peace, but on ambition. Behind his soldiers, behind his victories, stood the single restless will of Alexander himself.

In contrast, let us look to a different figure: Saint Francis of Assisi. He possessed no armies, no crowns, no empire. Yet his peaceful individual heart became a force that outlived kings. He sought not dominion, but brotherhood; not wealth, but humility. His presence softened hardened men, inspired the broken, and continues to move hearts across centuries. Where the imperialist spreads fear and control, the peaceful soul spreads trust and freedom. And though Francis held no earthly power, the legacy of peace he left is stronger than many thrones.

From this we discern the hidden law: the world is shaped outwardly by the inward nature of individuals. One cannot expect peace from a people who cultivate only anger, nor can one hope for freedom when individuals are enslaved by greed. If empires of tyranny rise, it is because individuals allowed pride to rule them. If communities of peace flourish, it is because individuals chose compassion and self-restraint. The seed determines the tree; the heart determines the world.

The teaching, therefore, is urgent: tend to your inner life, for it is the soil from which history itself grows. Do not think yourself too small to matter, for every empire of conquest began with one man’s craving, and every age of peace began with one soul’s resolve. Ask yourself daily: am I feeding the spirit of imperialism — through arrogance, selfishness, or domination — or am I nurturing the spirit of peace — through humility, patience, and love? The world you live in will mirror the answer.

Practically, let each listener cultivate the habits of peace in the smallest of actions: speak gently where harshness tempts you; yield when pride urges you to conquer; build bridges where division beckons. Let the home be your first kingdom of peace, the workplace your first empire of kindness. For in the end, nations rise and fall by the character of individuals, and the most enduring legacy is not conquest, but peace.

Thus Babbitt’s words endure as a beacon: empires of war and empires of peace both begin in the heart of one man or woman. Choose well what empire you build, for generations yet unborn will dwell within its walls. And let it be remembered: the greatest conquest is not of land, but of self; and the truest empire is the reign of peace within and around you.