In Switzerland they had brotherly love, five hundred years of

Hear the words attributed to Graham Greene, though famously spoken by Orson Welles in The Third Man: “In Switzerland they had brotherly love, five hundred years of democracy and peace, and what did they produce? The cuckoo clock!” At first, this appears as jest, a sharp quip against the quiet prosperity of a land untouched by the great turmoils of its neighbors. Yet beneath its wit lies a profound meditation on the relationship between strife and creativity, between stability and greatness, between the fertile ground of suffering and the calm fields of peace.

The meaning is paradoxical. Greene’s line suggests that peace and democracy, while noble and life-giving, do not always yield cultural or artistic brilliance. In contrast, conflict, hardship, and even tyranny have often given rise to towering works of art, philosophy, and invention. The cuckoo clock—delightful but modest—becomes a symbol of Switzerland’s long stability, in contrast to the grand achievements, however bloody, of nations scarred by war. It is a biting reminder that greatness often springs from struggle, while peace, though desirable, may breed only quiet simplicity.

The origin of the line is woven into art itself. Though credited here to Greene, who wrote the screenplay, it was in truth improvised by Orson Welles, embodying his character Harry Lime, a cynical black-market dealer in post-war Vienna. In that setting—a ruined city struggling after the horrors of World War II—the words struck with irony. Welles’s Lime was defending his own corruption, arguing that history’s cruelties create genius, while stability breeds mediocrity. Thus, the line was less a universal truth than a character’s justification, yet its resonance has outlived the film itself.

History indeed reflects this tension. Out of the violence of the Renaissance, torn with political intrigues and bloody wars, came Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and Machiavelli. From the turmoil of revolution and oppression arose Beethoven’s symphonies, Tolstoy’s epics, and Picasso’s fractured canvases. In contrast, lands that enjoyed long, undisturbed peace often produced stability and prosperity for their people, yet not always the same explosive bursts of cultural flame. This is not to glorify war, but to recognize the strange alchemy of suffering and creation.

Yet, O children of tomorrow, hear this: Greene’s jest must not be misunderstood as scorn for peace. For the cuckoo clock, though humble, has endured where many empires have fallen. A simple creation of joy, marking the passing of hours with song, may in truth outlast the monuments of conquest. What good is genius born of blood if it leaves only ruin in its wake? Perhaps the deeper irony is that Switzerland’s modest legacy of peace is itself a higher triumph than the violent brilliance of its neighbors.

Reflect upon your own life. Do you chase greatness through turmoil, believing only struggle can validate your worth? Or do you undervalue the quiet peace that allows love, family, and dignity to flourish? Greene’s line teaches us to question our values: is the cuckoo clock, symbol of steadiness and simple delight, truly lesser than the grand works built on rivers of blood? Or is it in fact a gentler, wiser inheritance?

The lesson is clear: while hardship can sharpen the soul and inspire greatness, do not despise the fruits of peace, however modest they seem. Better a world of cuckoo clocks than a world of endless wars dressed in genius. Strive, yes, and create from struggle when it comes—but never curse the quiet seasons that allow love and humanity to breathe. In the end, the highest achievement is not the art born of turmoil, but the peace that gives generations the freedom to dream without fear.

So let Greene’s jest be remembered not only as satire but as a meditation: five hundred years of peace may give you only a cuckoo clock—but it also gives you life itself. Cherish both the brilliance born of hardship and the quiet gifts of peace, for both are needed to complete the human story.