War should never be entered upon until every agency of peace has

Hear the solemn counsel of William McKinley, the 25th President of the United States: “War should never be entered upon until every agency of peace has failed.” These words, though spoken in the crucible of his age, echo across all generations as a timeless law. For they remind us that war, though sometimes unavoidable, must always remain the last and most grievous resort. Before nations draw the sword, they must first exhaust the pathways of dialogue, negotiation, and patience. Only when peace has been pursued with all the heart’s might, and found impossible, may a people take upon themselves the terrible weight of battle.

The meaning of this saying is plain yet profound. War is fire—it consumes not only the guilty but the innocent, not only armies but families, villages, and the quiet rhythms of ordinary life. Thus, it must not be kindled in haste or pride. The agencies of peace—diplomacy, compromise, appeals to reason and justice—are the true weapons of civilization, for they preserve both honor and life. To cast these aside too quickly is folly; to wield them until they fail is wisdom. McKinley’s words remind us that the noblest strength lies not in the eagerness to fight, but in the endurance to seek peace when others clamor for blood.

The origin of this saying lies in McKinley’s own struggle during the Spanish-American War of 1898. Though the American people, stirred by outrage at Spain’s actions in Cuba and the sinking of the USS Maine, clamored for war, McKinley hesitated. He labored with patience, exhausting every diplomatic channel before finally yielding to the necessity of arms. His words reveal the burden he carried: he knew war could bring quick triumph, but he also knew its terrible cost. For in his conscience, he desired that history remember that America had sought peace first, and only when denied it, accepted war.

History offers countless confirmations of this truth. Consider the ancient tale of King Leonidas and the Spartans at Thermopylae. Though known for their valor in war, the Greeks first sent envoys to plead with Persia, striving to preserve their freedom without bloodshed. Only when every appeal failed, when peace was scorned, did they take up arms. Their stand, though doomed, became immortal because it was not born of arrogance but of necessity. They proved by their sacrifice that some battles cannot be avoided—but must never be chosen lightly.

On the other hand, how many wars have begun in haste, in pride, in the blindness of ambition? The First World War ignited not because all agencies of peace had been tried and exhausted, but because nations rushed to arms, chained by pride and entangled alliances. Millions perished in trenches, and a generation was lost to mud and steel, because leaders forgot the wisdom McKinley spoke: that war must be the last resort, not the first impulse.

The lesson for us is not confined to nations, but extends to every soul. In our daily lives, too, conflicts arise—between families, neighbors, colleagues. The heart is often quick to fight, to wound with words, to harden in pride. Yet the wisdom of McKinley calls us to patience: speak first, forgive first, exhaust every effort at reconciliation. If conflict must remain, let it be clear that it was not because peace was ignored, but because peace was made impossible. In this way, even in strife, the conscience is clear and the heart remains noble.

Therefore, let us pass down this teaching as a law for both rulers and common men: do not rush to the battlefield, whether of nations or of the heart. Seek peace first—plead for it, labor for it, endure for it. If peace fails, then stand firm and fight with honor. But let it always be known that your sword was drawn only after every olive branch had been extended. For in this balance lies the true dignity of man: not in his eagerness to destroy, but in his strength to preserve until preservation is no longer possible.