Remaining vigilant toward this ever-present threat means

Mark Kennedy once spoke with solemnity and resolve: “Remaining vigilant toward this ever-present threat means constantly learning how better to protect ourselves. But primarily it reminds us that we must fight and win the war on terror, so that we do not have to fight it here in America.” These words, though born of the modern age, echo the ancient truths of all who have faced enemies in shadow and in open battle. They remind us that peace is never passive, but guarded, and that freedom, though cherished, demands sacrifice.

When Kennedy speaks of vigilance, he invokes one of the oldest virtues of nations. The watchman on the walls of the city, the sentinel who scans the horizon, the general who studies the movement of his foes—all knew that danger is never far, and that complacency is the herald of defeat. To remain vigilant is to live with eyes open, not in fear, but in readiness. The ancients taught this too: “Eternal vigilance,” said the guardians of republics, “is the price of liberty.”

The act of constantly learning how better to protect ourselves speaks to the wisdom of humility. Even the greatest armies have fallen when they believed themselves invincible. Athens, mighty in ships and soldiers, was humbled when it ceased to learn. Rome, master of nations, stumbled when it ignored the changing tactics of its foes. Kennedy reminds us that the true strength of a people lies not only in weapons, but in adaptability—an ever-deepening understanding of how to defend life, justice, and order against those who would tear them down.

In naming the war on terror, Kennedy points to an adversary unlike the armies of old. Terror does not march in legions, nor wear the banners of kings. It hides, it strikes without warning, it seeks not conquest of land but conquest of spirit through fear. Here lies the greatest danger: that a people, cowed by dread, will surrender their courage. To fight and win against terror is therefore not only to stop the hand of the enemy, but to keep alive the flame of resolve, to refuse the chains of fear.

History gives us echoes of this struggle. Consider the defense of Britain during the Blitz. The bombs of the enemy rained upon London, not to seize territory, but to break the spirit of its people. Yet the people stood fast. They remained vigilant, they learned new ways to survive, and they refused to surrender their courage. Their victory was not in destroying every bomb, but in carrying themselves with unyielding defiance. This is the same spirit Kennedy calls for: that in standing strong, a nation ensures that its enemies fail in their true aim—to sow despair.

But Kennedy also reminds us that the goal is not merely to endure, but to keep the battle from our very homes, to ensure that the soil of America remains a sanctuary of safety. This is the duty of every generation: to face the threats abroad so that children may grow in peace at home. The ancients sent forth their champions to the borders not only for conquest, but to protect the hearth, the temple, the sacred places of family and community. Kennedy’s words carry this timeless vow: that no sacrifice is too great if it ensures the innocence of the next generation.

The lesson, then, is clear. We must remain vigilant, never blind to danger. We must learn, adapting to challenges with wisdom and humility. We must fight not only with arms, but with courage, unity, and steadfastness. And we must always remember why: to safeguard our homes, our people, and the very idea of liberty.

So let these words endure as a teaching for the ages: the battle for peace is never fought once, but always. To lower our guard is to invite peril; to stand ready is to preserve the blessings of freedom. And in fighting the shadows beyond our borders, we ensure that the light within remains unbroken, shining bright for those who come after us.