We know more about war than we know about peace, more about

“We know more about war than we know about peace, more about killing than we know about living.” Thus spoke Omar N. Bradley, a general of the armies in the Second World War, who had walked through the valley of death and seen the terrible cost of human conflict. His words are not a boast of knowledge but a lament, a sorrowful confession of the path mankind has so often chosen. For though centuries have passed, and empires have risen and fallen, the wisdom of war has been studied more diligently than the wisdom of peace. We have mastered the art of destruction, yet stumbled in the art of life.

The ancients themselves recorded this truth. The chronicles of history are filled with the names of battles—Marathon, Hastings, Waterloo, Gettysburg—while the seasons of peace are seldom remembered, except as brief interludes before the next clash of arms. Nations train their youth in the strategies of killing, but who has established schools to teach the delicate craft of reconciliation, of compassion, of living together in harmony? We have made war a science, but have left peace a mystery.

Bradley’s lament was born out of bitter experience. At the head of armies, he directed campaigns across Europe, from the beaches of Normandy to the defeat of Nazi tyranny. He knew the machinery of war—the tanks, the shells, the sacrifice of countless men. But he also knew that victory on the battlefield did not secure true peace. For after the war’s end, the world still trembled on the edge of destruction, now under the shadow of nuclear fire. Bradley saw clearly that mankind had become wise in killing, yet remained ignorant in the ways of living.

Consider the tale of the Cold War. After the great victory of the Allies, instead of finding rest in peace, humanity entered another age of fear. Nations poured treasures into weapons that could destroy the earth many times over. The art of diplomacy limped behind the art of devastation. Scientists who could split the atom to unleash unimaginable power struggled to teach men how to dwell together without suspicion. In this way, Bradley’s warning became prophecy: humanity had become expert at preparing for death but a novice at preparing for life.

Yet, even within this darkness, the seeds of hope have always been present. There are stories of soldiers who, weary of killing, laid down their arms and reached across enemy lines. The Christmas Truce of 1914, when British and German soldiers ceased fire to share songs, food, and even games of football, revealed that within the human heart lies a yearning for living, not just surviving. For one holy night, the wisdom of war gave way to the innocence of peace. It was fleeting, but it shone as a reminder of what could be.

The meaning of Bradley’s words is this: true peace must be studied, practiced, and taught with the same diligence that mankind has given to war. It is not the absence of conflict, but the presence of justice, compassion, and understanding. To know how to live requires as much discipline as learning how to fight. Without this, we risk a future where we continue to conquer enemies yet fail to conquer hatred, where we win battles but lose humanity.

The lesson for us is clear: if we would reverse Bradley’s lament, we must become students of peace. Let every generation train not only in the arts of defense, but in the arts of living: how to forgive, how to reconcile, how to build bridges where walls once stood. Let families teach their children the dignity of every life, and let nations invest in healing as much as in arms. For until mankind learns more of peace than war, we will remain trapped in cycles of destruction.

So let these words echo as both warning and hope: “We know more about war than we know about peace.” Let us change this, O children of tomorrow. Let us study the ways of peace as earnestly as the generals studied their maps, and let us pursue the art of living as fiercely as others pursued the art of killing. For only then shall humanity rise from its long night and walk in the light of true wisdom, where peace is no longer a stranger, but a friend.