When the men kill, it is up to us women to fight for the

Hear the cry of Clara Zetkin, spoken in the shadow of war: “When the men kill, it is up to us women to fight for the preservation of life.” These words blaze like a torch against the darkness, carrying not only grief but defiance. They remind us that when destruction devours the earth, when blood and smoke stain the air, there must rise another force—gentle yet unyielding, tender yet stronger than steel. This force is the will to preserve life, and throughout history it has often been borne by the hands and voices of women.

In Zetkin’s time, the world was scarred by great wars. Armies of men marched to slaughter, nations exalted conquest, and the soil drank deeply of blood. But she, a leader among women and a fighter for justice, lifted her voice to proclaim another path. She saw that the work of women was not only to weep for the dead, nor to nurse the wounded, but to stand against the tide of death itself. To her, the calling of women was sacred: to protect, to nurture, and to guard the flame of life when the winds of war sought to extinguish it.

Consider the story of the women of Lysistrata, in the ancient play of Aristophanes. When their men plunged endlessly into battle, the women rose in their own way, withholding comfort and demanding peace. Though told in jest, the tale carried truth: when men were blinded by the lust for victory, it was the women who held before them the vision of what truly mattered—the continuance of home, of children, of life itself. Zetkin’s words are of this same spirit, but spoken not in jest, but in burning seriousness.

Look too to the real story of the Women’s Peace Congress of 1915, when, in the midst of the First World War, women from warring nations gathered in The Hague. They crossed borders that soldiers could not cross, they spoke words that generals would not hear. They declared that while governments sought death, they would fight for life. Their courage mirrored Zetkin’s proclamation: that when men destroy, women must become the builders and guardians of humanity.

The meaning of her words is not that men are doomed always to violence, nor that women are free from fault. Rather, it is a call to awaken the power of balance. Where one hand clenches the sword, the other must extend in mercy. Where one voice roars for conquest, another must whisper for compassion. Zetkin names women as the bearers of this sacred duty, not because they are weak, but because they hold within them the strength to say “enough,” the strength to choose creation over destruction.

What lesson, then, shall we take? That each of us, whether man or woman, must rise when death is glorified and cry out for life. That the measure of greatness is not in how many fall before us, but in how many rise because of us. Let us honor mothers who shield their children in times of war, teachers who guard the minds of the young, healers who restore the wounded—all who labor to preserve the fragile thread of existence against the blades of violence.

Therefore, O listener, do not wait for others to choose peace. Become yourself a warrior for the preservation of life. Stand against cruelty, however small. Defend the weak, however humble. Build where others destroy, nurture where others neglect, and speak for peace where others praise war. For in this, you join the chorus of Clara Zetkin and all the women and men who have lifted their hands, not to kill, but to save. And in their company, you will find a strength greater than any army—the strength of love made courageous.