My first wish is to see this plague of mankind, war, banished

The father of a nation, George Washington, once spoke with the voice of both soldier and sage: “My first wish is to see this plague of mankind, war, banished from the earth.” These words do not spring from the lips of a dreamer who never tasted battle, but from one who bore its burden, who saw comrades fall, who carried the weight of command in the crucible of revolution. In this utterance, the warrior who had led armies confessed his deeper desire: not for more victories, not for more banners raised in triumph, but for the end of the very thing that had consumed his youth and scarred his soul.

Washington, forged in the fires of the American Revolution, knew that war is never a blessing but always a curse. He saw men shiver barefoot at Valley Forge, their bodies broken by hunger and cold. He watched the fields of battle where fathers and sons fell together, leaving behind widows and orphans. He tasted the bitterness of blood and smoke, and though he fought for liberty, he knew that freedom born of such suffering must never be glorified for its cost. Thus he named war rightly: a plague of mankind, an affliction that spreads destruction across generations.

Consider the paradox: the very man who led armies to secure a nation’s birth was the same man who longed most to see war’s end. Here is wisdom: those who know the sword best are often those who desire its sheathing most. Like the ancient Roman Cincinnatus, who laid down power to return to his farm, Washington yearned not for conquest but for peace. His greatest triumph was not his victories over the British, but his refusal to cling to power when the war was done. By stepping away, he gave the world a vision of leadership that does not hunger for war but seeks the harmony of peace.

History offers us a mirror in the story of the Great War of 1914, later called World War I. Leaders marched their peoples into battle, proclaiming honor, glory, and destiny. Yet when the guns finally fell silent, the earth was scarred with trenches, millions lay dead, and an entire generation carried wounds of body and spirit. In the aftermath, many echoed Washington’s longing: that if only mankind had listened to such wisdom earlier, the plague might have been avoided. But men too often learn too late.

Washington’s words are a warning for all time: war is a plague. Like pestilence, it spreads beyond the battlefield, infecting the hearts of survivors with bitterness, leaving ruins where once there was life. To banish it from the earth may seem an impossible dream, yet dreams are the seeds from which futures grow. If the first leader of a fledgling nation could carry such a vision in his heart, then who are we to abandon it? The dream of peace must never be surrendered, lest war become our inheritance to generations unborn.

And so, children of the future, take this teaching into your own battles—not of armies, but of daily life. When anger rises, do not let it become hatred. When conflict comes, do not let it become destruction. Learn the ways of dialogue, of patience, of understanding. Just as nations are ruined by war, so too are families and friendships ruined by unchecked strife. To banish the plague begins with small acts: a word of kindness instead of scorn, a hand extended instead of a fist clenched.

Practical wisdom follows: study history not to glorify the generals, but to mourn the fallen. Read widely, so that lies of hatred cannot take root in your heart. Train yourself to seek peace, not because peace is easy, but because it is the harder, nobler path. And when you are tempted to believe that war—whether between nations or within your own heart—is the only answer, remember Washington, who having known war in its fullness, called it by its true name and wished it gone.

Thus let his words echo across the ages: “My first wish is to see this plague of mankind, war, banished from the earth.” Hold this wish close, and make it your own. For though one man’s wish may not end the plague, the wish of many, lived out in action, may yet bring healing to the world. And perhaps, by such wisdom, the future may fulfill what Washington once dreamed—that war itself might vanish like a shadow before the rising light of peace.