War may be made by one party, but it requires two to make peace.
"War may be made by one party, but it requires two to make peace." These words, spoken by John C. Calhoun, speak to the profound truth of conflict and reconciliation. War is often the result of one side’s aggression or a breakdown in communication and trust, but peace, true peace, is not the sole work of one party. Calhoun understood that the pursuit of peace is a shared responsibility—a bond forged through mutual willingness and effort. One can initiate conflict, but only through the collective will and cooperation of both sides can peace truly take root. This is the eternal paradox of war and peace: while war may be the choice of one, peace requires the hearts and minds of all to unite.
In the ancient world, Alexander the Great, after his relentless conquests, was not only a warrior but a seeker of peace. When he stood victorious over the Persian Empire, he understood that simply winning battles was not enough to secure lasting peace. To govern the vast lands he had conquered, he needed to negotiate and unite. Peace was not solely his decision—it required the cooperation of those he ruled, the various peoples who had been vanquished in battle. While Alexander's sword could bring him victory, it was diplomacy, understanding, and shared will that allowed the lands he conquered to flourish under his reign. Calhoun’s words resonate here: while one side may wage war, it takes the efforts of both sides to make peace.
The story of King Solomon of Israel provides another example of peace-making amidst division. Solomon inherited a kingdom fraught with tension and strife, yet he understood that for true peace to reign, it was not enough to simply claim victory over his enemies. In his wisdom, he sought not to further divide but to unite the factions, drawing on the power of wisdom and fairness. When the two women came to him claiming the same child, Solomon did not simply rule with force or decree; he tested their hearts and minds, seeking to understand their true intentions. By doing so, he not only solved the dispute but built a foundation for peace that would endure. Solomon, like Calhoun, knew that true peace is not the result of one party’s power, but of mutual understanding and a shared willingness to seek the truth together.
In the modern era, the Treaty of Versailles, signed after the First World War, offers a powerful lesson in the complexities of peace-making. The treaty, while intended to bring an end to the war, sowed seeds of future conflict. It was an agreement forced upon Germany and its allies by the victors, rather than a mutual effort at reconciliation. This imbalance of power created resentment and division that would later fuel the rise of Nazi Germany and lead to the Second World War. The Treaty of Versailles serves as a stark reminder that peace cannot be imposed unilaterally; it requires cooperation, understanding, and respect from all sides. Calhoun’s wisdom rings true here: peace is not achieved through the will of one, but through the shared commitment of all.
Even today, in our own lives, we see the truth of Calhoun’s words. Conflicts arise in families, in workplaces, and in nations. It is easy to point the finger, to blame one side for the strife. But peace, true reconciliation, requires both parties to come to the table. Whether in personal relationships or in the broader world, the effort to resolve conflict must come from both sides. Just as a marriage cannot survive on the commitment of one partner alone, so too can a nation or community not find peace without the efforts of all involved.
The lesson here is clear: peace is not a one-sided affair. It is the collective effort, the shared vision, the mutual desire to end conflict, that creates lasting harmony. Whether in our personal lives or on the world stage, we must recognize that both sides must be willing to listen, understand, and work together. Like the great figures of history who understood that victory in war is but the beginning of the challenge, we must be prepared to fight for peace with the same dedication we devote to our battles. It is the willingness to come together, to set aside our pride and division, that ultimately leads to the lasting peace we seek.
So, let us carry forward Calhoun’s wisdom in our daily lives. In moments of conflict, whether large or small, let us remember that peace is not something we can impose on others. It is something we must build together, with patience, understanding, and a shared commitment to resolve our differences. By seeking common ground, by recognizing that peace requires the efforts of all, we can foster a world where war, both on the battlefield and in our hearts, is truly brought to an end. Peace is not the absence of conflict; it is the result of a collective will to heal, to reconcile, and to create a future built on mutual respect and understanding.
NKnguyen nam khanh
This idea raises a moral question: if only one side desires peace while the other persists in hostility, is it fair to say peace is impossible? Or does moral strength lie in maintaining peace within oneself despite external aggression? I’m also curious how this idea fits into modern diplomacy. Are current peace negotiations failing because we forget that both sides must equally invest emotionally and politically in reconciliation?
TBThy Bao
I appreciate the brutal honesty in this perspective. It’s not romantic—it’s pragmatic. I wonder how this applies beyond warfare, maybe in personal relationships or business conflicts. If peace requires two, does that imply responsibility is equally shared, even if one side did more harm? How do we reconcile justice and reconciliation in that case? Can peace exist without accountability, or does forgiveness have to precede mutual understanding?
Hhterhjnb
I find this statement unsettling yet realistic. It highlights how easily one side can start conflict, but harmony requires mutual consent. It makes me question whether humanity is naturally more inclined toward war than peace. Do power dynamics make peace inherently harder to achieve because it requires shared vulnerability? Perhaps this explains why many ceasefires collapse so easily—because one side’s commitment isn’t enough to sustain the balance.
PPhanh
This quote makes me wonder about the nature of peace in human relationships and politics. If it truly takes two to make peace, does that mean peace is always dependent on mutual trust, even when one side is insincere? How can lasting peace be achieved if one party refuses to engage or acts in bad faith? It feels like this statement reveals both the fragility and interdependence of human cooperation. What do you think—is peace ever possible unilaterally?