We can realise a lasting peace and transform the East-West

Hear, O seeker of wisdom, the words of George H. W. Bush, spoken at the twilight of an age of division: “We can realise a lasting peace and transform the East-West relationship to one of enduring co-operation.” These words were not uttered in calm seas, but in the shifting tides of the late twentieth century, when the world stood at the threshold between the long shadow of the Cold War and the uncertain light of a new era. They call us to believe that enemies can become partners, that rivalry can yield to friendship, and that the sword of division can be reforged into the ploughshare of unity.

The origin of these words lies in the crucible of the Cold War, a struggle that stretched across decades, pitting East against West, communism against democracy, suspicion against suspicion. Generations lived under the threat of annihilation, with walls both physical and ideological dividing peoples. Yet, in the late 1980s and early 1990s, with the fall of the Berlin Wall and the crumbling of Soviet power, there emerged a moment of possibility—a chance to reshape the relationship between East and West, not in rivalry but in co-operation. It was in this fragile dawn that Bush spoke, summoning courage to dream of peace that might endure.

The ancients knew well that peace is not the mere absence of war, but the presence of harmony. After the Peloponnesian War, the Greeks struggled to reconcile, learning that enmity, if not transformed, will rise again. In Rome, Augustus proclaimed the Pax Romana, not only by the sword, but by weaving conquered and conqueror into a shared order. Bush’s vision stands in this same tradition: to achieve lasting peace, it is not enough to end conflict; one must create bonds of cooperation so strong that war becomes unthinkable.

History offers us an example in the post-World War II reconciliation of France and Germany. For centuries, these two nations had been bitter foes, their lands soaked with each other’s blood. Yet after 1945, they chose a different path: they bound their economies, their coal and steel, in mutual dependence. Out of this choice grew the European Union, a force for peace that endures to this day. This story illuminates Bush’s words: when adversaries choose co-operation over rivalry, they transform not only their future but the destiny of generations to come.

Yet, Bush’s vision is also a warning. For opportunities for peace can be squandered, and mistrust, if allowed to grow, can once again divide the world. To realize lasting peace, nations must not rest after the first victory, but labor continuously to build trust, to maintain dialogue, and to resist the lure of suspicion. Peace is not a gift given once; it is a garden that must be tended daily, or else it withers. The call to cooperation is not merely political, but moral: it requires humility, patience, and faith in the humanity of one’s former foe.

The lesson is clear: the greatest victories are not won on the battlefield but at the table of reconciliation. To turn rivalry into cooperation is to defeat hatred itself. To transform enemies into allies is the highest act of statesmanship, and indeed, of humanity. Bush’s words remind us that we are not doomed to repeat cycles of conflict, but can choose a different way—if we have the wisdom and courage to embrace it.

Practical wisdom flows from this truth. In our own lives, where division festers—between neighbors, families, or communities—we must seek the same transformation. Replace suspicion with dialogue, replace rivalry with partnership, replace bitterness with forgiveness. In doing so, we mirror on a small scale the great work of nations. Just as East and West were called to co-operation, so too are we called to peace in our daily lives.

So remember, O listener: lasting peace is possible, but only if we transform enmity into cooperation, difference into partnership, and mistrust into trust. Let Bush’s words echo across time: the walls of division can fall, the coldness of rivalry can thaw, and a new age of peace can dawn—if only we dare to labor for it, and to believe in it.