If the nation is rich but people are poor, the country cannot be

Hear the words of Zong Qinghou, spoken with the gravity of one who has witnessed the trials of nations: “If the nation is rich but the people are poor, the country cannot be strong, and society will be unstable.” These words are not merely about gold, silver, or trade; they are about the true foundations upon which a civilization stands. For what is the wealth of a nation, if not the sum of the lives of its people? And what use is a treasury overflowing with riches, if the hearts of its citizens are hollowed by hunger, despair, and neglect?

The ancients knew this truth well. A kingdom might raise monuments of marble and palaces of gold, but if its farmers starved, rebellion brewed in the fields. A city might hoard tribute from distant lands, but if its workers were crushed under the weight of poverty, unrest simmered in the streets. A society cannot be held together by wealth locked in the coffers of a few; it must flow through the veins of the many, or else the body politic will weaken and collapse. Thus Zong Qinghou warns us: a rich nation with poor people is like a mighty tree with rotten roots—grand to behold, but doomed to fall at the first storm.

Consider the fate of the late Qing Dynasty in China. Though it commanded vast territories and great resources, much of its wealth was seized by corrupt elites and foreign powers. The common people languished in poverty, while opium spread like poison and famine ravaged the land. Outwardly, the empire seemed vast, but inwardly it was brittle. The instability bred rebellion—the Taiping uprising, the Boxer Rebellion—proof that when the people are left in misery, no throne is secure, no empire unshakable. The strength of a country lies not in its outward riches, but in the well-being of its citizens.

History also tells of the opposite. In the early days of the United States, the wealth of the nation was modest, but efforts to broaden opportunity—through land for farmers, education, and gradual industrial growth—helped create a sense of shared prosperity. It was not the gold in banks that made the country strong, but the faith of its people that their labor could yield fruit and that their children might live better than they did. Where the people are nourished, hope flourishes, and where hope flourishes, a nation finds unshakable strength.

Zong Qinghou’s words also point toward the future. In our time, nations boast of GDP, of towering skylines, of technological marvels. Yet if in the shadows of those towers lie workers underpaid, families without homes, children without schooling, then the brilliance is but a mask over instability. For society built on inequality is like a vessel with cracks—no matter how ornate its carvings, it leaks, and the voyage cannot endure. The wealth of a country is hollow unless it flows into the hands and lives of its people.

The lesson is clear: the greatness of a nation is measured not by the riches of its rulers but by the welfare of its weakest. A society that allows vast inequality courts unrest, for the human spirit cannot forever endure injustice. Stability comes not from luxury for the few, but from dignity for the many. If you wish for a strong country, raise up the poor; if you wish for peace, ensure fairness; if you desire enduring greatness, share prosperity widely.

What, then, must we do? As individuals, let us see our wealth not as walls to keep others out, but as bridges to lift others up. As communities, let us build systems that protect the vulnerable and empower the industrious. As nations, let leaders remember that their true treasure is the health, education, and dignity of the people. Support policies that reduce poverty, create opportunities, and distribute prosperity fairly. For only then can the country be strong, and only then can society endure without fear of collapse.

Thus remember: a rich nation with poor people is but an illusion of strength. But a nation where every person has food, work, and dignity—this is a fortress no storm can breach, a society that stands firm not on wealth alone, but on justice.