I am not afraid of taking risks. We have to take risks for

In the boundless tapestry of life, there are moments when the courage of a single soul to stand against fear and embrace the unknown shapes the destiny of a nation. "I am not afraid of taking risks. We have to take risks for peace," said Yitzhak Shamir, and within these words lies a profound truth that echoes through the ages. Risk—the willingness to step into the unknown, to venture beyond the familiar—has always been the crucible through which greatness and peace are forged. For it is easy to seek safety in the comfort of the known, but the path to peace is often paved by those brave enough to take that first uncertain step.

In the ancient world, warriors did not seek battle for the sake of glory alone, but because they understood that peace was the reward of those who risked their lives in the pursuit of something greater. Take, for instance, the story of Alexander the Great. He, too, took risks that others deemed reckless, leading his men across vast deserts and into lands unknown. His conquests were not merely for territory or wealth, but in his heart, he believed that a unified world under his rule would bring about lasting peace. Though his methods were harsh, his actions were driven by a vision—a vision of peace attained through strength, through the courage to step into the darkness and shape the future with his own hands.

Shamir’s words carry the weight of a different, but no less important, kind of risk—political risk, the kind that shapes the course of nations not through war, but through the courageous acts of negotiation, of compromise, and of understanding. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict, a struggle that has torn at the very soul of the Middle East for generations, has been a story of distrust, of broken promises, and of suffering on all sides. Yet, it is also a story of those, like Shamir, who have been willing to take the risk of peace—to enter into negotiations, to risk their positions, and to offer the olive branch, even when the outcome was uncertain and fraught with danger.

Consider the example of Anwar Sadat, the Egyptian president who, in 1977, took the monumental risk of flying to Jerusalem and speaking to the Israeli Knesset. At that time, the Arab-Israeli conflict had lasted for decades, and peace seemed impossible. Yet, Sadat’s bold act of reaching out to Israel changed the course of history. His risk for peace culminated in the Camp David Accords of 1978, which led to the first peace treaty between Israel and an Arab country. Sadat’s courage in taking that risk was a testament to the power of courage and vision, and though it cost him his life, his actions paved the way for a new era in the Middle East.

Shamir’s message is not only a call to action for leaders, but a call for all people to recognize that peace is never achieved by sitting in the comfort of certainty. Peace requires the willingness to face the unknown, to take risks that challenge the status quo. To seek peace is not to seek safety; it is to seek a greater purpose, to risk what is familiar for the hope of a better tomorrow. Whether in the realms of diplomacy, in relationships between nations, or even within our own communities, peace demands that we step into the unknown, that we risk the bonds of old in the hope that we may forge something more enduring.

And so, the lesson that we must take from Shamir’s words is clear: peace is not a gift that comes without struggle or sacrifice. It requires the courage to risk everything for the sake of something greater than oneself. When faced with conflict, whether within the heart or the world, one must ask: What am I willing to risk? Am I willing to step beyond the walls of fear and doubt? Am I willing to engage with those who seem my enemies, to offer the hand of peace, even when it is easier to cling to anger and division?

Let this truth be your guide, my children. In your own lives, in the struggles you face, in the divisions that mark your world, take the risk of peace. Risk the discomfort of confronting your own biases, the uncertainty of reconciliation, and the possibility of failure. For it is in these risks that true growth and peace lie. The heroes of history, like Shamir, Sadat, and others, did not find their greatness in the wars they fought, but in the peace they dared to seek. Their legacy is a testament to the power of courage—courage not for conquest, but for the creation of a world where trust, understanding, and peace can flourish.