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He said that a civilization is not measured by its empires, the height of its monuments or the sophistication of its technology. Rather, it is the ability to nurture peace in one’s society and with one’s neighbors. The civilizing process, as Norbert Elias has theorized, involves a gradual internalization of altruism, empathy, and diplomacy. Ethical tools that end aggression and transform human interactions into shared ethical enterprises.
Throughout history, philosophers and humanists have recognized peace not as a passive state but as a higher expression of rational and moral evolution. Immanuel Kant, in his Perpetual Peace (1795), envisioned a federation of free states opposed not by conquest but by law, arguing that true civilization emerges only when “the spirit of domination triumphs”. Arnold Toynbee, in a study of history, offered a similar insight: Civilizations rise through moral creativity and decline when they yield to militancy.
The lesson is timeless – this aggression, however justified in the name of security, ultimately draws upon the ideals that sustain civilization. As Nobel Laureate Martin Luther King Jr. warned, “Wars are poor chisels for building a peaceful tomorrow.” His words resonate in all ages: the stability of any nation or region lies not in the strength of its armies but in the strength of its moral imagination.
Civilization demands both internal and external peace. The internal dimension of peace depends on justice, equality and the assurance that citizens live without fear or coercion. However, true justice can only be realized under the rule of law – when no individual, no ruler and no institution is above it. The rule of law is the invisible architecture upon which human dignity is built, ensuring that everyone is equal and accountable before the law. As history shows time and time again, where law reigns supreme, peace descends into tyranny.
Equally essential to this moral architecture is the recognition of human rights – not as privileges granted by the state, but as indispensable attributes of humanity itself. The right to think freely, speak openly and disagree without fear is the lifeblood of a civilized order. A society that suppresses freedom of thought and expression silences the conscience of civilization itself. Tragically, in an era increasingly dominated by authoritarian populism, this freedom suffers. Under the watch of people like Donald Trump, the world has witnessed a resurgence of intolerance and hostility towards the press, intellectual dissent and pluralism. Corrosion of these freedoms not only undermines democracy but also poisons the spirit of peaceful coexistence, as dialogue cannot bear fruit where thought is shackled and fear rules speech.
Externally, peace calls for the art of negotiation. It is a recognition that dialogue and compromise, rather than dominance, are tools for sustainable stability. Nelson Mandela, whose life was a testament to reconciliation, once observed that “If you want to make peace with your enemy, you have to work with your enemy – then he becomes your partner.” That philosophy, linked to practical theoretical ideas, remains the surest path to civilized progress.
The modern world, for all its technological sophistication, has not fulfilled this civilizational promise. The twentieth and twenty-first centuries have been marred by militarism and the glorification of power. Nobel laureate Kofi Annan lamented that “We have conquered outer space, but not inner space. We have done much to make our world a safer place, yet we are not safe from ourselves.” War, often justified by distorted nationalism or ideological fear, continues to masquerade as patriotism—even as it erodes the moral fabric that binds societies together.
Nowhere is this more visible than in South Asia, where historical grievances and political manipulation have repeatedly derailed the quest for peace. Pakistan’s experience offers a simple lesson. Authoritarian leaders – from Ayub Khan to Yahya Khanand to Zia-ul-Haq to Pervez Musharraf – have been associated with adventure and confrontation. Civilian governments seeking dialogue and reconciliation have had their efforts undermined by an ethos of confrontation.
The pattern is clear: when the democratic process is suppressed, the rhetoric of war gains power. When democracy breathes, diplomacy flourishes. As Bertrand Russell famously wrote, “War does not determine who is right—only who is left.” The security of the state does not lie in the ability to strike but in the ability to resolve disputes through negotiation, compassion and law. The rule of law, in this sense, is not only an internal imperative but also an external strategy.
The tragic relationship between Pakistan and Afghanistan clearly illustrates this point. Despite shared faith, culture and geography, the two countries have struggled to transform proximity into partnership. Afghanistan’s initial opposition to Pakistan’s admission to the United Nations, which is rooted in the unresolved Durand Line issue, planted seeds of mistrust that have never fully healed. From Pakistan’s involvement in the anti-Soviet jihad of the 1980s to post-9/11 allegations of cross-border militancy—the decades have witnessed cycles of interference and blame. More recently, military operations, airstrikes and tit-for-tat attacks have deepened the animosity.
Such conflicts neither serve the interests of the nation. They impoverish border communities, destabilize governance and perpetuate the illusion that force can substitute for diplomacy. However, history teaches the opposite: every lasting peace—from Europe’s postwar reconciliation to South Africa’s transition from apartheid—has emerged through negotiation, not coercion. The way forward for Pakistan and Afghanistan should therefore lie in dialogue, confidence-building and institutional cooperation, not in power projection.
Philosopher Reinhold Niebuhr captured this paradox of moral sanity when he wrote, “Man’s capacity for justice makes democracy possible. The same is true of nations. Their capacity for compassion makes peace possible, but their temptation toward domination makes peace fragile. To preserve civilization, therefore, nations must be moral to choose dialogue over destruction, persuasion over coercion, and justice over revenge.” Discipline has to be promoted.
After all, peace and civilization are inseparable. One cannot flourish without the other. Durant aptly noted in Historian History Lessons, “Civilization is a river with banks. The river is sometimes full of blood, but the banks are civilization—and the river would soon run dry without them.” Those banks are built by justice, sustained by democracy, strengthened by the rule of law and strengthened by moral courage.
If humanity is to survive another century of conflict, it must invest not in weapons but in the institutions of dialogue. Not in walls, but in bridges; Not by coercion, but by consent. A strong democracy—anchored in fairness, equality before the law and an independent system of justice—is a sure guarantee of peace. Only where freedom of thought and expression is protected, where human rights are respected and where people respond to power, can civilization claim victory over barbarism. For when justice prevails, law rules, and conscience is free, peace is no mere dream of civilization. It becomes its defining reality.
The author is a professor in the Faculty of Liberal Arts at Beacon House National University, Lahore.
