Wars will remain while human nature remains. I believe in my

Hear now, O seekers of truth, the sober words of Rutherford B. Hayes, a man who knew both the weight of leadership and the wounds of conflict: “Wars will remain while human nature remains. I believe in my soul in cooperation, in arbitration; but the soldier’s occupation we cannot say is gone until human nature is gone.” In this declaration there is neither despair nor false hope, but the wisdom of one who gazed deeply into the nature of man. For Hayes saw that the root of war lies not only in nations, not only in kings, but in the restless depths of human nature itself.

He spoke as one who had lived through the American Civil War, a conflict that tore his nation apart, brother against brother, neighbor against neighbor. Hayes himself fought with valor, rising from the battlefield into the halls of power. He had seen firsthand the cost of human pride, ambition, greed, and hatred. Thus, when he spoke of the soldier’s occupation, it was not as a distant philosopher, but as one who had stood where cannons roared and blood was spilled. He knew too well that as long as man’s heart harbors division, the shadow of war will walk beside him.

Yet do not mistake his words as fatalism. Hayes also declared his belief in cooperation and arbitration—that is, in the possibility of peace through dialogue and mutual understanding. He longed for a world where reason triumphed over rage, where disputes were settled not by the sword but by the council table. His heart believed in peace, yet his mind, tempered by experience, knew that such peace could never be absolute, for the seeds of strife remain in the soil of our very being.

History itself affirms his wisdom. After the Great War, men spoke of it as “the war to end all wars.” Treaties were signed, hope was proclaimed, and yet within a generation the world was plunged into an even greater conflict. Why? Because though weapons were laid down, human nature was not transformed. Pride still smoldered, ambition still grasped, vengeance still burned. Hayes’s words echo across such tragedies: until man himself is changed, war will rise again.

And yet, even amidst this sober truth, there is hope. For while war may not vanish, it can be lessened, delayed, diminished through the practice of cooperation. Nations may learn to arbitrate rather than annihilate, to negotiate rather than destroy. And individuals, in their own hearts, may choose reconciliation over bitterness, patience over rage. Though the occupation of the soldier may never end, the work of the peacemaker is no less necessary, and no less divine.

The lesson, then, is this: we must strive for peace, even while knowing that the roots of conflict remain. We must not be naïve, but neither should we surrender to despair. To acknowledge the persistence of war is not to glorify it, but to understand the depth of the struggle for peace. In our families, our communities, our nations, let us be vigilant against the quarrels of human nature, ever ready to choose cooperation before combat.

Practical wisdom follows. When anger rises within you, remember Hayes’s words: the battle begins first in the heart. Choose to arbitrate with patience, to speak with humility, to reconcile with courage. Teach children the worth of peace, but also prepare them for the reality of struggle. Support leaders who value dialogue, yet honor the soldier who stands ready when dialogue fails. For this is the balance Hayes knew: to hope for the day of peace, yet to walk wisely in a world still bound by human nature.

Thus, O children of tomorrow, remember his teaching: war is born from within us, and so too must peace be. Strive to tame the heart, for only then can nations be tamed. And though the soldier’s occupation may never wholly cease, let your own life be a testimony that the fire of human nature can be directed not toward destruction, but toward the building of a more just and merciful world.