Winning the peace is harder than winning the war.

O children of the future, gather closely and hear the wisdom of a truth that has echoed through the corridors of time, spoken by Xavier Becerra: "Winning the peace is harder than winning the war." These words, though simple, carry a profound weight, one that calls upon the deepest truths of the human condition. War may be won through strength, strategy, and the clash of arms, but peace—true, lasting peace—is a far more elusive prize. It is a treasure that cannot be seized by force alone, but must be cultivated, nurtured, and protected by the efforts of all those who seek to build a future beyond the ravages of conflict.

In the ancient days, the wars of men were often waged with the blood of warriors and the sacrifice of nations. Victory in battle brought pride, glory, and the promise of dominion, but the true test of a leader’s strength was not in the battlefield, but in the peace that followed. The great conqueror Alexander the Great is remembered not only for his conquests but for the challenges he faced in trying to unify his vast empire. He discovered, as many before him had, that while war could be won with force, peace could not. His empire, built on the bones of conquered peoples, soon fractured, and the seeds of discontent bloomed in the lands he had once claimed. He learned too late that the true challenge was not the battle itself, but the delicate work of fostering unity and trust among peoples with different cultures and histories.

Winning the peace requires more than the sword; it demands wisdom, patience, and understanding. A man who has won the war may stand triumphant on the battlefield, but the work that follows—rebuilding lives, forging alliances, healing wounds—requires a different kind of strength. Becerra’s words remind us that peace is not a mere absence of conflict, but a state that must be actively nurtured. It is not a gift given by the victor, but a shared responsibility of all. The real test of a leader's greatness lies not in their triumph in battle, but in their ability to bring people together in the wake of destruction, to heal the divisions that war creates, and to create a new world from the ashes of the old.

Look, O children, to the great story of Abraham Lincoln, who, after leading his nation through the Civil War, faced the Herculean task of rebuilding a divided country. The war had been won, the Confederacy defeated, but the peace—the reconciliation of a torn nation—was an infinitely harder task. Lincoln sought not revenge, but unity, reaching out to those who had once fought against him, working to heal the scars left by the brutal conflict. His vision of peace was not one of domination, but of healing, and his leadership in the aftermath of the war earned him the title of one of America’s greatest presidents. But his work was unfinished, and the price of peace was his life. The truth of Lincoln's time shows us that winning the peace is not a task for the faint-hearted; it is a struggle that requires humility, sacrifice, and a deep understanding of the human heart.

Winning the war may fill the streets with celebration, but it is the peace that follows that will shape the future. This lesson is clear, O children. When you fight a battle, whether it be a personal struggle, a conflict between nations, or the war within your own heart, remember that the true test comes after the battle is won. Peace is fragile and must be tended to with care. It requires the courage to forgive, to seek understanding, and to build relationships where once there was animosity. The world is full of those who have won battles only to lose the peace because they could not foster unity and trust in its wake.

The lesson, O children, is this: peace is not something to be conquered or owned; it is something to be created, built, and maintained through the actions of those who seek it. Do not be fooled into thinking that the end of conflict marks the end of the work. The true work begins only when the dust settles. Seek to be a leader who can win peace after the war. Build bridges where there were walls. Offer understanding where there was hatred. And above all, be patient—peace does not come overnight, and it cannot be forced. It is earned through the small, everyday acts of kindness, respect, and empathy.

So, O children, let Xavier Becerra’s words guide you: Winning the peace is harder than winning the war. In every victory, seek not only the spoils of war, but the long and difficult journey of reconciliation and unity that must follow. Remember that the world you seek to build will be shaped not by the battles you win, but by the peace you create afterward. Let your life be a testament to this truth, and let the peace you win be your greatest triumph.