The Charter of the United Nations expresses the noblest

“The Charter of the United Nations expresses the noblest aspirations of man: abjuration of force in the settlement of disputes between states; the assurance of human rights and fundamental freedoms for all without distinction as to race, sex, language or religion; the safeguarding of international peace and security.” Thus spoke Haile Selassie, the Lion of Judah, Emperor of Ethiopia, and one of the most revered voices for justice and human dignity in the modern age. In these words, spoken before the gathering of nations, he called humanity to remember its highest purpose—to rise above barbarism, greed, and hatred, and to live by the laws of peace and brotherhood. His statement is not a mere commentary on politics; it is a vision of moral civilization, a dream forged in suffering and lit by hope—the dream of a world governed not by might, but by right.

To understand the depth of these words, one must remember the man who spoke them and the history that shaped them. In 1936, Haile Selassie stood before the League of Nations, pleading for the world to uphold justice as his homeland was invaded by fascist Italy. His voice rang with courage, yet his plea fell upon deaf ears. The League, created to preserve peace, failed to act, and Ethiopia was swallowed in war. A decade later, as the ashes of World War II darkened the earth, the United Nations Charter was born—a document pledging that nations would never again abandon morality for ambition. To Selassie, who had seen firsthand the cost of the world’s silence, this Charter was a sacred promise: that humanity could redeem itself through collective conscience, that men and nations could be bound not by fear but by faith in justice and equality.

When Haile Selassie called the Charter the “noblest aspiration of man,” he spoke not as a politician, but as a prophet of peace. He saw in it the distillation of the moral law that has echoed since the dawn of time—the law that commands us to love one another, to honor the dignity of every soul, and to resolve conflict not with weapons but with words. He understood that force breeds only force, that violence may silence for a moment but never persuade. To “abjure force,” as he declared, is not to deny strength, but to transcend it—to choose reason over rage, justice over vengeance. This is not weakness; it is the highest form of power, the mastery of self that distinguishes the civilized from the savage.

The second truth he proclaims—the assurance of human rights and fundamental freedoms for all—is the beating heart of his vision. In an age still scarred by racism, colonialism, and inequality, Selassie raised his voice for the unity of mankind. “Without distinction as to race, sex, language, or religion,” he said—these words, simple yet divine, shattered the chains of centuries. They called forth a new covenant among peoples: that the worth of a human being is not given by birth, but by being. His was a message that transcended borders, echoing the ancient wisdom of the prophets and the universal cry of the oppressed. It is no wonder that his speech would later inspire Bob Marley’s immortal song “War,” for in Selassie’s words lay the anthem of all who refuse to bow to tyranny.

The final clause—the safeguarding of international peace and security—is not merely a political principle but a moral one. Peace, for Selassie, was not the absence of war, but the presence of justice. He knew that no lasting peace could exist while one nation oppressed another, while the strong devoured the weak, while wealth was hoarded and misery ignored. True peace, he taught, must be built upon fairness, upon cooperation, upon the recognition that the destiny of one is bound to the destiny of all. In this, he echoed the ancient truth of the sages: that humanity is one body, and when one part suffers, all are afflicted. His faith in the United Nations was faith in humanity’s capacity to grow wiser—to learn, at last, from the agony of its own history.

Consider the lesson of the Second World War, which had ended only a few years before these words were spoken. The war had revealed the depths of human cruelty—the Holocaust, the atomic bomb, the ruins of nations. Yet out of that darkness came a light: the collective realization that survival itself demanded unity. The Charter of the United Nations, in its principles, sought to bind the wounds of the world, to turn despair into discipline and chaos into cooperation. Haile Selassie, remembering the betrayal of the League of Nations, urged that this new covenant must not fail as the old one did. His words were a warning and a hope: that if the nations truly lived by the Charter’s ideals, humanity might finally rise to meet its divine potential.

So, my child of the new age, take this teaching to heart. Peace, justice, and human dignity are not gifts bestowed by leaders—they are duties demanded of every soul. You, too, are a guardian of the Charter, for every act of fairness, every defense of the weak, every rejection of hatred is a stone laid in the foundation of that eternal temple of peace. Do not be deceived by cynics who say that war is inevitable, that injustice is natural. Remember Selassie’s wisdom: that the highest aspiration of man is not power, but harmony.

And thus, the lesson endures. The Charter of the United Nations is more than parchment—it is a mirror reflecting what we could become. Haile Selassie’s words are both blessing and challenge. They remind us that the greatness of humanity lies not in its weapons or wealth, but in its compassion and restraint. Let every generation renew this sacred vow: to resolve conflict without cruelty, to honor every life without prejudice, and to build peace not upon fear, but upon faith in the brotherhood of mankind. For when these ideals are lived, not spoken, the noblest aspirations of man shall cease to be dreams—they shall become the very fabric of the world.