The question persists: Who pays the cost when power is misused, when ideologies clash, when greed outpaces compassion?

It is, and always has been, the ordinary man and woman—those whose names do not appear in treaties or headlines but whose suffering echoes through generations.

In the shadow of palaces and parliaments, it is the common citizen who mourns lost homes, shattered families, and futures denied. Every era, every region, offers a new chapter in this sorrowful ledger.

From the ancient plains of Troy, where Homer’s Iliad immortalized both the glory and horror of battle, to the devastated cities of the twentieth century, ordinary people have carried the true weight of “leadership” and “strategy.”

The Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy, who witnessed the carnage of war firsthand, captured this truth in his monumental work, War and Peace: “The strongest of all warriors are these two—Time and Patience.” Yet even time and patience cannot restore the lives or peace stolen from the innocent.

Why do wars recur again and again? Politicians speak of necessity, generals of honour, and capitalists of resources. The ordinary person hears only the silence of lost children, the empty seats at dinner tables, and the fear in the eyes of neighbours.

Boundaries and belief systems, so fervently defended by leaders, become lines drawn across the hearts of communities, dividing those who should be united by shared hopes. What price, then, is too high for these illusions?

The literature of war, paradoxically, is as old as civilization itself. Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, Clausewitz’s On War, and Machiavelli’s The Prince have guided countless strategists. Library shelves groan beneath the weight of treatises on how to outmanoeuvre, outfight, and outlast one’s enemy.

Human ingenuity has been lavished on the craft of destruction. But where the thoughtful reader might ask, are the great tomes of peace? Why is there no “Art of Reconciliation” found on every strategist’s desk? Where are the manuals that teach leaders to unite instead of divide, to heal rather than to wound?

A handful of thinkers, of course, have dared to write them. Mahatma Gandhi’s doctrine of nonviolent resistance inspired millions to envision a world won by truth and love. Martin Luther King Jr., borrowing from Gandhi, insisted, “Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

The work of Norwegian sociologist Johan Galtung, who developed the concept of “positive peace”—not merely the absence of war, but the presence of justice and equity—deserves a wider audience. Yet, these voices are often drowned out by the drumbeat of conflict and the seductive simplicity of “us versus them.”

What might the techniques of peace and love look like if we were to cultivate them as deliberately as armies train for battle? It would require, first, the difficult discipline of empathy—seeing one’s enemy as human, not as an abstraction.

It would demand communication: honest, open, and persistent. It would ask for courage, not to fight, but to forgive, not to dominate, but to compromise. And, most of all, it would require ordinary people to reclaim their power—not by marching to war, but by insisting that leaders pursue solutions that honour the dignity and dreams of every person.

The history of peace is less dramatic than that of war but no less real. The Concert of Europe, the reconciliation between France and Germany after two world wars, and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa—each are imperfect. Yet, each demonstrates that peace is possible when visionaries put away swords and reach out with open hands.

Perhaps it is time that the shelves, so heavy with war’s chronicles, make room for the literature of peace and love. Even if only one book, one technique, could spare a single child or mend one broken home, it would be worth more than all the victories ever celebrated in marble halls. Enough blood has been spilled into the earth, and enough tears have been shed to fill the rivers.

The ordinary man and woman have paid the price of conflict long enough. Now, let us teach, write, and live the techniques of peace and love—before the cost becomes too great to bear.