I believe deeply that the first duty of government is providing

In a voice steady with conviction and heavy with the weight of duty, William Barr, former Attorney General of the United States, declared: “I believe deeply that the first duty of government is providing for the personal security of its citizens. Therefore I would naturally place the highest priority on strengthening law enforcement.” His words resound with the authority of ancient truth, for they speak to the oldest covenant between ruler and ruled—that those who hold power must first ensure the safety of the people who grant it. Without security, freedom decays into fear; without order, justice cannot flourish. This principle, as old as civilization itself, has guided kingdoms, republics, and empires alike, binding every age to the same fundamental truth: that peace is the soil from which all prosperity grows.

The origin of Barr’s statement lies in both philosophy and experience. As a steward of the nation’s justice system, he faced the balance between liberty and law, between compassion and strength. His words echo the beliefs of thinkers from Hobbes to Cicero, who understood that the first task of any state is to protect its people from chaos. Thomas Hobbes, in his great work Leviathan, wrote that life without governance would be “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” From this grim vision arose the necessity of government—to shield the individual from the violence of others, to ensure that every man and woman could live without constant dread. Barr’s statement, though modern in form, stands in direct lineage to this timeless principle: that security is the foundation of civilization, and that all higher virtues—freedom, art, commerce, love—depend upon it.

Consider the fate of nations that forgot this duty. In the waning days of the Roman Empire, when corruption weakened its armies and lawlessness spread across its frontiers, the people no longer felt the protection of the state. Cities once proud became prey to invaders, and citizens, despairing of their leaders, sought safety in submission. The empire did not collapse in a single moment of conquest—it withered from within when government failed to provide security, and the trust between ruler and citizen was broken. So too, in every age, when the shield of law grows thin, fear enters the hearts of the people, and liberty itself begins to crumble. Barr’s warning, though calm in tone, carries this ancient wisdom: that strengthening law enforcement is not tyranny, but duty; not oppression, but the preservation of peace.

Yet Barr’s statement must not be read as a call for brute force or blind obedience. The ancients knew that power must always be tempered by justice. The philosopher-king, as described by Plato, was not a tyrant who ruled by fear, but a guardian who wielded authority for the good of all. The same sword that defends the innocent must never strike the innocent. Thus, law enforcement must be both firm and fair, guided not by vengeance but by the rule of law. The government’s hand must be strong enough to restrain evil, yet wise enough to preserve freedom. For a nation that values safety above justice will breed oppression, but a nation that seeks justice through safety will secure both peace and virtue.

History offers shining examples of this balance. When George Washington commanded the Continental Army and later led a new republic, he understood that order was the guardian of liberty. After the Revolution, when rebellion broke out during the Whiskey Insurrection, Washington acted not with cruelty, but with resolve—sending troops to enforce the law, then granting mercy to those who surrendered. By doing so, he proved that the law must be upheld, but always in the service of unity and peace. His leadership embodied the wisdom that Barr’s words recall: that security is not domination, but discipline—the steady maintenance of order that allows freedom to endure.

And yet, in our own age, there are those who mistrust the instruments of law, seeing in every act of enforcement the shadow of tyranny. Such suspicion is not born of ignorance, but of history’s bitter lessons—when power was abused, when justice faltered. Here lies the challenge of our time: to restore trust between the governed and those who guard them. For law enforcement, to be truly strong, must serve not as an arm of oppression but as a mirror of justice—transparent, accountable, and rooted in respect for the rights it defends. The personal security of citizens must never become the pretext for violating their dignity; it must be the reason for upholding it.

Thus, my children of the republic, learn this truth: security is the mother of freedom, but freedom is the soul of security. Each depends upon the other, as body depends upon breath. Strengthen your laws, but temper them with compassion. Empower your guardians, but bind them with justice. For the first duty of government, as William Barr reminds us, is to protect the people—not merely their bodies, but their peace of mind, their homes, their hope. And when that duty is fulfilled with honor, the nation stands not in fear, but in harmony—a place where men and women may live without dread, and where liberty may grow in safety’s light.

So remember, as you inherit the burdens of citizenship: guard your freedom by guarding your security, and hold your leaders to both. For the government that keeps its people safe through justice will endure like Rome in its glory; but the government that forgets this sacred balance will fall, as all empires do, to the chaos it failed to prevent.