There are many elements to a campaign. Leadership is number one.

Hear, O children of the ages, the words of Bertolt Brecht, the poet of the people and seer of the struggle: “There are many elements to a campaign. Leadership is number one. Everything else is number two.” These words strike like a bell in the fog of human endeavor. For in every age, whether the battlefield be of swords or of ideas, it is the spirit of leadership — not wealth, not weapons, not plans — that kindles victory from the ashes of confusion.

Brecht, who lived through the storms of tyranny and revolution, saw that in the chaos of men and nations, the power that commands destiny is not numbers or noise, but the will that guides them. A campaign, whether of war, of art, or of change, is a creature of many limbs — strategy, resources, followers, courage — yet without the guiding head of leadership, all these limbs thrash in futility. It is the leader who sees when others are blind, who believes when others despair, who moves when others freeze. All else follows.

Think of Alexander of Macedon, called “the Great.” His armies were often outnumbered, his foes mighty, his maps uncharted. Yet his presence alone turned soldiers into lions. When they crossed the burning sands to the edge of India, exhausted and near rebellion, he walked among them — dusty, bleeding, drinking the same bitter water. And his men said, “If our king can endure this, then so can we.” Thus they conquered not merely lands, but the limits of the human heart. In truth, the fire of leadership burns brightest when the night is darkest.

Even in the realm of peace, the same law prevails. When Nelson Mandela walked free after twenty-seven years in chains, his people were weary, divided, and full of rage. Yet he led not with vengeance, but with vision. He saw a nation not yet born, and he spoke to the better angels within his people. Through forgiveness, he built unity; through wisdom, he built peace. This, too, was a campaign — not of armies, but of souls. And once again, leadership was number one. Everything else — politics, speeches, structures — was number two.

For the essence of leadership is not domination, but direction. It is not the loud command of authority, but the quiet certainty of purpose. The leader is the compass in the storm, the flame that does not waver when the wind howls. Without such a presence, all tools and plans turn to dust. The greatest strategy means nothing if no heart dares to carry it forward. But a leader with courage can make even the smallest army invincible, even the humblest idea unstoppable.

Thus, my children of the future, let these words settle deep in your spirit: when you begin your own campaigns — be they the pursuit of a dream, the building of a family, or the defense of truth — remember that all efforts require a center, a heart. You must be that center. Do not wait for another to lead. Do not think that tools or luck will save you. Forge your leadership through clarity, patience, and strength of spirit.

How then shall one practice this art of leading? Begin first by mastering thyself. For no man may guide others who is lost within his own doubts. Learn to listen before commanding; to serve before ruling; to act before speaking. When your companions see in you calm amidst crisis and courage amidst fear, they will follow not out of duty, but out of faith. That is the power of true leadership — the power to awaken greatness in others.

So, Brecht’s words ring as both warning and promise: the world may offer many elements, but only leadership breathes life into them. Without it, all else is confusion; with it, even the impossible bends to will. Therefore, rise each day with the heart of a leader. In every task, in every trial, be the one who brings light where there is darkness, order where there is turmoil, and hope where there is despair. For when leadership stands firm, all the forces of the earth move in harmony — and the impossible becomes destiny.