Those who are at war with others are not at peace with

The words of William Hazlitt — “Those who are at war with others are not at peace with themselves.” — strike with the clarity of a bell tolling across the centuries. They remind us of a truth often forgotten: that the battles we wage outwardly are born from the unrest that dwells within. A man who carries harmony in his heart does not hunger for conflict, but one who is fractured, unsettled, and tormented inside inevitably pours his turmoil upon the world. Hazlitt, the English essayist of the 19th century, observed human nature with a sharp eye, and from his writings sprang this timeless teaching: external strife reflects internal discord.

What does it mean to be at war? It is not only the clash of armies and nations, but the smaller battles of daily life — quarrels, rivalries, grudges, and hatreds. The one who constantly finds fault, who burns with envy, who lashes out at others, reveals more about his inner state than about those he attacks. His conflict is but a mirror of his inner fragmentation. Thus, Hazlitt teaches that the path to true peace with others begins in the secret chambers of the soul. One must heal within before harmony can flow outward.

History offers us examples that make this wisdom plain. Consider Adolf Hitler, who plunged nations into flames, declaring enemies everywhere. Behind his furious campaigns lay deep insecurities, resentments, and a soul twisted by fear and hatred. His war with the world reflected his war within. Contrast him with Mahatma Gandhi, who endured prison, humiliation, and oppression, yet carried within himself such profound inner peace that even his enemies were disarmed by his spirit. The difference between these two men reveals Hazlitt’s truth: the state of the world is the echo of the state of the human heart.

Even in less dramatic lives, we see the same pattern. A parent who cannot forgive themselves often lashes out at their children. A leader insecure in his authority tightens his grip and sows conflict among his people. A man who despises himself becomes suspicious of every friend, every neighbor, every stranger. Their outer battles are but the shadows of their inner unrest. By contrast, the teacher who is patient, the leader who is calm, the friend who is generous — these are the fruits of inner reconciliation, of souls who dwell in harmony with themselves.

Hazlitt’s words are not condemnation, but a call to self-awareness. If you find yourself at constant odds with others, do not merely accuse them. Look inward. Ask yourself: what wound am I carrying? What storm within me is spilling out upon the world? For often, anger with others is rooted in fear, pain, or unhealed wounds within. Only by facing and healing these inner battles can we cease to spread conflict outward.

The lesson is clear: to make peace with the world, you must first make peace with yourself. Reconcile with your past. Forgive your own faults. Accept your humanity. Cultivate compassion for yourself, for only then can you offer true compassion to others. As long as you live in self-hatred, you will be at war with all who cross your path. But when you rest in self-acceptance, the swords will fall from your hands, and your presence will bring calm instead of strife.

Practical steps follow. Begin each day with reflection, asking: “What within me is unsettled?” Practice forgiveness — not only of others, but of yourself. Engage in practices that calm the mind and heal the heart: meditation, prayer, silence, or honest conversation. When conflict arises, pause and ask: “Am I fighting them, or am I truly fighting myself?” In this way, you will gradually transform your inner war into inner peace, and from that peace will flow harmony to all around you.

So remember, child of tomorrow: do not seek enemies in the faces of others until you have looked into the battlefield of your own heart. For Hazlitt’s words ring eternal: those who are at war with others are not at peace with themselves. Seek inner peace first, and you will find that the world, too, begins to reflect it. This is the higher labor, the nobler fight — not the conquest of others, but the conquest of one’s own unrest.