If war comes upon us, it will come as a thief in the night.

In the stillness of the night, when the world slumbers and the stars themselves seem to stand watch in the heavens, it is in such moments that the most insidious of forces may come upon us. Eamon de Valera, a man whose voice echoed with the weight of history, once said, "If war comes upon us, it will come as a thief in the night." His words, spoken in the shadow of conflict, speak to the suddenness, the unexpected nature of war—a force that does not announce itself with the sound of trumpets or the march of armies, but rather, creeps in quietly, stealing away our peace and security before we have the chance to even prepare.

War, the great destroyer of peace, does not arrive in the manner we might expect. It does not come with the clarity of battle lines drawn or the sight of soldiers assembling on the horizon. Instead, it comes like a thief, hidden in the folds of diplomacy, political deceit, and the quiet murmurs of unrest. The people are not prepared. They do not hear the drums of war until the moment it is too late. History, with its long tapestry of conflict, is filled with such moments. Think of the attack on Pearl Harbor—a quiet Sunday morning shattered in an instant by a force that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The people of America, unprepared and unknowing, were caught in a storm that swept them into a war they never expected.

Indeed, de Valera’s words ring with truth, for war does not always come with warning. The ancient Greeks knew this well when, in the year 490 BC, the Persians, after years of tension and diplomatic negotiation, suddenly landed on the shores of Marathon. The Athenians, who had been lulled into complacency by years of peace, were caught off guard by the speed and ferocity of the Persian invasion. The result was a battle that would change the course of history, but it came not with the sound of marching armies but with the sudden shock of surprise.

The same could be said of the great World Wars of the 20th century. In the years leading up to World War I, nations built their alliances and strengthened their borders, but few could have predicted the spark that would ignite the conflict. A single shot fired in Sarajevo, by a lone assassin, set the entire world ablaze, thrusting the great powers into war. Like a thief in the night, the violence spread quickly, and by the time the world realized the depths of the danger, it was already too late. Millions would perish in a war that many had thought impossible just years before.

It is in this suddenness, this unpredictability of war, that de Valera’s wisdom lies. He understood that we must not grow complacent, for war does not wait for the right moment to announce itself. It can rise at the moment of least expectation, shattering the calm, leaving in its wake devastation and sorrow. Those who are unprepared, who believe that peace is a permanent state, will be the first to suffer. It is this dangerous belief that leads nations into conflict, as they fail to see the growing tension until it is upon them, much like a thief who enters unseen, taking what cannot be restored.

The lesson here is not simply that we must be vigilant, but that we must recognize the signs of unrest, the whispers of discord, and the silent shifts in the winds of power. We must be ever watchful, for peace is fragile, and the roots of war are often planted long before they sprout into open conflict. To be prepared is not only to be ready for battle but to understand the world around us, to see the small shifts that can lead to great storms.

And so, as we stand on the precipice of our own age, let us remember the wisdom of de Valera’s words. Let us prepare, not just in the physical sense, but in the moral and spiritual. Let us foster peace not just with arms but with hearts that are open, with minds that seek to understand rather than to dominate. In our communities, in our countries, and in our relationships, let us strive for understanding and cooperation, so that when the thief of war comes creeping in the night, we may recognize its presence before it steals all that we hold dear. The future lies not in waiting for the storm to pass, but in learning to stand together, strong and unyielding, before it even arrives.