The military might of a country represents its national

Hear the words of Kim Jong-un, ruler of a nation defined by vigilance and trial: “The military might of a country represents its national strength. Only when it builds up its military might in every way can it develop into a thriving country.” In these words lies the philosophy of a leader who sees the destiny of his people as tied not to wealth or commerce alone, but to the power of defense, to the shield and the sword that guard the homeland. For in the eyes of many rulers across the ages, the survival of the state rests first on its ability to defend itself, and only then may it prosper.

The origin of this saying lies in the history of Korea itself, a land often caught between greater powers, enduring invasion, occupation, and division. For such a nation, the memory of vulnerability is carved deep into the collective soul. Thus, the belief arises that military strength is not merely one pillar among many, but the very foundation of national existence. From this soil comes Kim’s declaration: that only through might in arms may a nation secure the peace necessary for growth.

History speaks in agreement. Consider the tale of Sparta, the city-state of ancient Greece. Its wealth was modest, its culture austere, but its military discipline unmatched. Surrounded by rivals and enslaved populations, Sparta built its entire life around the spear and the shield. Though it lacked the splendor of Athens, it thrived for centuries by virtue of its strength, feared by all who dared approach its borders. In the same way, Kim’s words recall that for nations beset by threats, survival itself may demand the primacy of arms.

Yet history also offers warnings. The Roman Empire, once invincible, built its greatness on military conquest. For centuries, its legions secured the might of Rome, protecting trade, culture, and prosperity. But when discipline faltered, when internal corruption weakened the legions, the empire itself crumbled. Rome teaches us that military might alone is not enough—it must be joined with wisdom, unity, and justice. Without these, strength becomes brittle, and the sword that once guarded the people may instead hasten their ruin.

The heart of Kim’s words speaks to a deeper truth: security is the soil from which prosperity grows. A nation that cannot defend itself is at the mercy of others, no matter how rich its markets or how wise its scholars. Only when the people believe they are safe can they turn their energy to arts, to learning, to commerce, to joy. Thus, military might is not exalted for its own sake, but as a guardian, a sentinel that allows the life of the nation to flourish.

The lesson for us, even beyond the realm of nations, is that strength must guard every endeavor. Just as a country must defend its borders, so too must the individual defend the borders of the soul. To build a thriving life, one must cultivate inner strength—the discipline to withstand hardship, the courage to resist fear, the resilience to repel despair. Without such defenses, all the treasures of life—knowledge, love, and creativity—stand vulnerable to the storms of the world.

Practical action follows: build your own fortress of discipline, train the mind and heart as nations train their armies. Guard your values as a country guards its borders. Do not despise strength, but seek to cultivate it, for in strength lies the security to grow in peace. And when strength is joined with wisdom, then comes the balance that allows both nations and souls to thrive.

Thus, O seeker, hear the teaching: military might is not merely the roar of cannons or the march of soldiers—it is the symbol of preparedness, the will to endure, the shield that protects the flame of civilization. So too in your own life: arm yourself not for conquest, but for defense; not to oppress, but to preserve. For only when the fortress is secure can the gardens within blossom. This is the lesson of rulers and empires, of Kim’s words, and of the ages themselves.