We must have the courage to restrict legal immigration instead of

In the words of Geert Wilders, “We must have the courage to restrict legal immigration instead of expanding it, even if we sometimes have to build a wall,” we hear a call not merely for policy, but for resolve — a plea to safeguard identity, culture, and stability in a world that is ever shifting. These words, spoken in the voice of conviction, are born of a leader’s concern that a nation must guard its essence, lest it be dissolved in the tide of change. Whether one agrees or not with his vision, his statement stands as a meditation on courage, on the burden of leadership, and on the eternal balance between compassion and preservation. For history has often shown that courage is not only the strength to open doors, but sometimes, the strength to close them when the winds grow too fierce.

The origin of this quote lies within the modern debates of Europe — a continent rich in history, but also weighed by the tension between openness and protection. Geert Wilders, a political figure from the Netherlands, is known for his strong stance on national identity and immigration control. To him, courage means standing firm against the pull of popular sentiment, choosing what he believes to be necessity over comfort. Yet beyond politics, his words strike at a deeper human truth — that every society, like every soul, must know its limits. A nation that welcomes without reflection, he warns, risks forgetting what it is; a person who gives without boundary risks losing their sense of self.

In this way, Wilders’s words echo the wisdom of the ancients, who understood that order and strength are the foundations upon which peace is built. Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor of Rome, wrote that a man must “stand erect, not be kept erect by others.” Likewise, a nation must have the discipline to stand by its principles, even when the world tempts it toward excess. Boundaries — whether physical, moral, or cultural — are not instruments of cruelty, but of definition. Without them, chaos creeps in, and identity fades into dust. The wall of which Wilders speaks may be literal, but it also symbolizes the inner fortitude required to defend what one holds sacred.

History offers many examples of civilizations that faced the same dilemma — whether to open their gates or guard them. Consider the story of Rome, the greatest empire of the ancient world. For centuries, its strength lay in both inclusion and discipline: it welcomed outsiders but demanded loyalty to its laws, its language, its gods. Yet in its later years, as vigilance waned and borders grew porous, Rome’s unity crumbled. The walls that once stood as symbols of strength became mere monuments to what was lost. Wilders’s words remind us of that old Roman lesson — that hospitality must walk hand in hand with prudence, and that even the noblest ideals can destroy a people if not tempered with wisdom.

Still, it is not enough to build walls of stone; one must also build walls of understanding. The greatest danger lies not in the arrival of strangers, but in the fear that blinds us from justice. A wall, if built without compassion, becomes a prison; but if built with discernment, it becomes a shield. The courage that Wilders invokes must therefore be the courage not only to defend, but to discern — to separate wisdom from prejudice, foresight from fear. For courage without wisdom is tyranny, but wisdom without courage is surrender.

The lesson, then, is clear: whether in the governance of nations or the governance of the soul, boundaries are essential. To preserve what is good, one must have the courage to make difficult choices, even when they invite criticism. Yet those choices must be guided by reason and humanity, for protection without compassion breeds division, and compassion without protection breeds ruin. A leader, like a guardian of an ancient city, must know when to open the gates and when to bar them — not out of hatred, but out of love for what lies within.

So remember, O listener of time: courage is not always the act of embracing; sometimes it is the act of refusing. To guard what you cherish — your home, your people, your principles — is not a failure of generosity, but an affirmation of identity. As Geert Wilders declares, even when the world calls such firmness harsh, there is honor in standing for what you believe must be protected. Yet let all who build walls, whether of stone or of spirit, build them with wisdom, lest they separate not the stranger from the citizen, but the heart from its own humanity. For in that balance — between strength and mercy — lies the true art of courage.