The longing for peace is rooted in the hearts of all men. But
The longing for peace is rooted in the hearts of all men. But the striving, which at present has become so insistent, cannot lay claim to such an ambition as leading the way to eternal peace, or solving all disputes among nations.
In the words of Alva Myrdal, "The longing for peace is rooted in the hearts of all men. But the striving, which at present has become so insistent, cannot lay claim to such an ambition as leading the way to eternal peace, or solving all disputes among nations." This profound insight speaks to the universal desire for peace—a yearning that spans time, culture, and circumstance. Myrdal’s words suggest that while peace is an innate and universal longing within the human heart, the path to achieving lasting peace is fraught with complexity. The striving for peace, especially in modern times, is often imperfect and fragile, a struggle that, while urgent and necessary, cannot promise to solve every dispute or guarantee eternal harmony. True peace, Myrdal suggests, is more than a political goal—it is a spiritual journey, one that transcends the short-term desires of the present and calls for a deeper understanding of human nature and the forces that divide us.
The ancient teachings of philosophers such as Confucius and Socrates have long emphasized the importance of peace in the human soul. Confucius, in his Analects, teaches that true peace begins with the individual and the cultivation of virtue. Peace, for Confucius, was not simply the cessation of war or the absence of conflict; it was the result of a harmonious relationship between individuals, communities, and the natural order. He believed that humanity’s deepest longing for peace could only be fulfilled when people embraced benevolence and righteousness, and when leaders led with wisdom and integrity. In this sense, Myrdal’s reflection on the longing for peace resonates with Confucius' belief that peace requires more than political action—it requires a fundamental shift in human character.
Similarly, the Greek philosophers spoke of peace as an ideal that was bound to the wisdom of reason. Plato, in his Republic, envisioned a society in which peace was the natural result of justice and the proper alignment of the soul. For Plato, the longing for peace was intrinsic to the human condition, but it could only be attained when individuals lived in harmony with the higher truths of justice, fairness, and virtue. The striving for peace, however, was not to be confused with the mere absence of war. True peace, Plato believed, could only emerge from moral and intellectual striving, from the pursuit of wisdom and understanding, not through superficial treaties or short-term solutions. This aligns with Myrdal’s warning that the insistent striving for peace today cannot claim to achieve eternal peace, for true peace requires more than just temporary solutions to immediate conflicts.
Consider the story of Nelson Mandela, whose life was dedicated to the pursuit of peace, not just in South Africa, but in the broader world. Mandela’s striving for peace was not the kind that sought easy victories or quick resolutions, but one that sought reconciliation and understanding in the face of deep divisions. After decades of imprisonment, Mandela emerged not with a heart of vengeance, but with a desire to heal the wounds of his nation. His journey teaches us that the longing for peace must be rooted in sacrifice, forgiveness, and a willingness to understand the perspectives of others. Mandela's peace was not instant, nor was it without struggle, but it was an enduring peace that sought to transform his nation into one of unity and understanding. In this way, his example embodies Myrdal’s vision: the path to peace is fraught with challenges, but it must be pursued with integrity and patience.
Myrdal’s insight also highlights a crucial point about the nature of international diplomacy. In times of global conflict, the world often comes together to strive for peace through treaties, pacts, and negotiations. However, these agreements, while important, often fail to address the deeper causes of conflict—issues such as injustice, inequality, and the misuse of power. The longing for peace that Myrdal speaks of is often frustrated by the impermanence of political agreements, which do not always lead to lasting peace. The treaties of the ancient world, from the Peace of Westphalia to the Treaty of Versailles, were hailed as monumental moments of peace, but history shows us that such agreements often left the seeds of future conflict. In this sense, Myrdal reminds us that peace cannot be imposed externally; it must be the result of a genuine transformation within individuals and nations alike.
The lesson we learn from Myrdal’s words is one of humility and awareness. While we must continue to strive for peace in the world, we must also understand that lasting peace is not something that can be achieved by force or through temporary fixes. The longing for peace is a deep, spiritual journey, one that requires patience, commitment, and a willingness to confront the underlying causes of conflict. It is not enough to simply end wars or resolve disputes; we must work to transform our societies into places where justice, respect, and equality prevail. Only then will we create the foundation for true, enduring peace.
In our own lives, we can take practical steps to align our actions with the principles of peace. This means cultivating inner peace through self-reflection, forgiveness, and empathy, while also working to foster peace in our communities and in the world around us. Whether through volunteering, advocating for justice, or simply living with integrity and compassion, we can each contribute to the longing for peace that Myrdal speaks of. Let us remember that peace is not an ideal to be reached once and for all, but a process, a commitment that must be upheld in each moment. Only when we understand that peace is a journey—one that requires continual effort, selflessness, and growth—will we be able to achieve the lasting harmony we seek.
THTran Hue
This quote makes me reflect on the paradox of peace itself — everyone desires it, yet collective peace seems so fragile. I wonder if Myrdal is pointing out that peace cannot be imposed or universalized, only cultivated within specific contexts. Perhaps lasting peace doesn’t come from global treaties or grand ambitions, but from countless small acts of understanding that build resilience over time.
TLTHPT C Binh Luc_12A6_15_ Dang Thi Lam
I find this statement striking because it tempers idealism with realism. Myrdal seems to be warning against utopian thinking — that believing in ‘eternal peace’ might actually blind us to the complexities of human behavior and politics. Maybe peace efforts fail not from lack of desire, but from oversimplifying what peace truly requires: justice, empathy, and the willingness to live with imperfection.
BTBach Truong
This reflection feels deeply philosophical. It suggests that while the longing for peace is innate, our human nature — with its ambitions, fears, and power struggles — prevents complete fulfillment of that dream. Does that mean we’re destined for cycles of conflict and reconciliation? Or could peace evolve as our consciousness and systems mature? It’s a humbling reminder of both our progress and our imperfection.
BPBui Thi Bich Phuong
I appreciate how Myrdal separates the ideal of peace from the illusion of eternal harmony. It makes me think about how modern peace movements often set expectations too high, leading to disappointment or disillusionment. Can the pursuit of peace still be meaningful if it doesn’t resolve every conflict? Perhaps what truly matters is minimizing suffering and fostering understanding, even when total unity remains out of reach.
DTVo Dinh Thanh
This quote feels both hopeful and realistic. It acknowledges the universal desire for peace while recognizing humanity’s limitations in achieving it. I wonder if Myrdal was suggesting that striving for peace is valuable even when perfection is impossible. Maybe peace isn’t a permanent state but an ongoing process — something we must continually negotiate and rebuild rather than a destination we can ever fully reach.