If we desire to avoid insult, we must be able to repel it; if we

“If we desire to avoid insult, we must be able to repel it; if we desire to secure peace, one of the most powerful instruments of our rising prosperity, it must be known, that we are at all times ready for War.” So declared George Washington, first among the patriots, father of a young republic, and a man who knew more than most the weight of battle and the price of liberty. These words, spoken in the infancy of the American nation, burn with timeless wisdom: that peace is not merely the absence of conflict, but the child of vigilance, discipline, and strength.

The ancients also knew this truth. The Romans coined the phrase, si vis pacem, para bellum—“If you wish for peace, prepare for war.” For they understood, as Washington did, that weakness invites aggression, while preparedness commands respect. A people who lay down their arms and trust to the mercy of others will find themselves not in peace, but in servitude. Thus, the paradox of history: that only by readiness for war may a nation secure the blessings of peace.

Washington’s words were born not in idle philosophy, but in the bitter crucible of experience. He had watched his soldiers bleed in the snows of Valley Forge, had seen the fledgling republic scorned by the great empires of Europe, and knew well that without strength, his nation’s voice would be drowned by the cannons of its enemies. His counsel was therefore both practical and prophetic: America could not hope to prosper unless it stood ready to defend its honor and its independence.

Consider the tale of the Cold War, nearly two centuries later. The world trembled on the edge of nuclear fire, yet it was not surrender or disarmament that preserved the fragile balance of peace—it was deterrence. The knowledge that each side stood ready for war stayed the hand of destruction. Like two warriors locked in a deadly stare, neither dared to strike, and so the long peace of the nuclear age endured. Washington’s wisdom echoed across time: peace is secured when readiness makes aggression unthinkable.

Yet let us not mistake this teaching for bloodlust. Washington was no lover of war. He spoke not as one intoxicated by conquest, but as one weary of strife who longed for a peace that could endure. His call was not to wage war at every provocation, but to ensure that none would dare provoke. For he knew that peace without strength is fragile, like a house built on sand, while peace upheld by readiness is a fortress that stands through storm.

The lesson for all who hear these words is clear: in life as in nations, one must be prepared to defend what is precious. Whether it be one’s honor, one’s family, or one’s homeland, peace is preserved not by wishful thinking, but by the strength to repel insult and injustice. To be prepared is not to be violent, but to be vigilant. To be strong is not to love war, but to love peace enough to guard it fiercely.

Practical wisdom follows: cultivate strength—in body, in mind, in spirit. Let no one mistake your gentleness for weakness, nor your patience for incapacity. Be ready to defend your values, your loved ones, and your dignity, not with rash fury, but with steady resolve. And as nations must train their armies, so too must individuals train their character, so that when the moment comes, they may stand unshaken.

So remember the words of Washington, O children of the future: if you would live in peace, be ready for struggle; if you would avoid insult, be prepared to resist it. For the world honors not the idle dreamer who hopes for peace without cost, but the steadfast soul who, armed with readiness, ensures that peace may flourish, secure and unbroken, for generations to come.