The Eternal Arena: How Competition Shapes—and Shatters—Humanity”

If you watch a boxing competition outside the arena, you feel the strength of the punches exchanged and sense the fear. One boxer defeats the other through powerful blows, and the audience applauds the winner—though the loser deserves more sympathy for standing on his feet and more encouragement to keep fighting.

We humans are conditioned in this pattern, our thinking shaped to fight from birth to death. Our rivalry begins in childhood, pitting us against siblings, then continues in school through competitions—assessments, races, football matches—and later extends to conflicts at the community level. Fighting and competing become ingrained in our consciousness, and we spend our entire lives running this endless marathon. We only slow our pace when death approaches or when we grow too weak to compete.

How can we expect peace from such a combative race, trained to fight and compete all its life? Terms like ambition, prosperity, progress, status, fame, success, and image are built-in forces that drive us to compete. Those who achieve these goals are called ambitious, celebrated as high-achievers, and idolized by others. Yet these glorified ideals condition us to constantly measure ourselves against others.

Every competition is an act of violence, as it inflicts pain on the loser. Winning a medal brings pride, while losing brings shame. Many sensitive individuals cannot bear this humiliation and harm themselves. Thus, a vicious cycle of violence begins early in life, disguised by noble-sounding words, transforming our natural peaceful instincts into those of a competitive beast in the global arena.

This is why permanent peace has never existed on Earth. Peace has only been maintained in fleeting moments throughout history because humanity has not overturned its competitive mindset. Aristotle said, “Man is a social animal.” He recognized humanity’s animalistic instincts but also distinguished humans due to their social behavior and communal living.

Yet there is a crucial difference between animals and humans. Animals follow their instincts and do not harm others once their hunger is satisfied. Humans, however, have no such restraint. They harm others even when their bellies are full, their hunger sated, their lockers overflowing with wealth. Ego and greed drive them to compete and fight until their eyes close in death.

Thus, the world can never know peace as long as even one human remains alive. This is the essence of our existence. All religious scriptures were revealed to curb human greed and lust, yet in time, these very religions fell victim to competition, battling one another for supremacy—contrary to their true purpose. But who looks to the roots? Everyone prefers to pluck the fruit.

 If we think outside the box, we arrive at a sobering truth: ancient kings, tribes, and emperors needed to coin words like brave, legend, and hero to forge the finest fuel for war—human beings. Warriors were molded to fight and win, their purpose bound to conquest.

But can peace exist in a hostile world? When your environment is aggressive, choosing peace means suffering defeat. True peace can only be global; without it, all other dreams are illusions. Unless all nations unite to reshape human thinking—away from competition, toward harmony—lasting peace remains impossible. After all, no one keeps their fists down while being punched in the face.

This is why peacekeeping missions fail: a hostile world breeds violence. Survival in such conditions demands aggression. Our instinct to live makes us complicit in the cycle.

Thus, the paradox: We are prisoners of the very systems designed to protect us.

This is why saints and sages throughout history preached a radical truth: Conquer yourself before seeking to conquer the world. True peace, they taught, resides within—in the heart, mind, and soul—not in external dominance. Yet this inner victory is the hardest of all, for humanity is socialized into violence, conditioned to compete, fight, and measure worth through conflict.

We are raised to admire conquerors, yet the greatest battle lies unseen: to silence the war within. Outer conquests demand force; inner mastery demands dismantling the very instincts our world glorifies. This is why so few achieve it—and why those who do are called saints, not kings.

The Ultimate Paradox: A world obsessed with power will always distrust those who master themselves, for they reveal a truth more unsettling than any rebellion—that true strength needs no sword. This wisdom echoes in a beloved Punjabi verse:

“All chase the game of loss and gain,
While saints play free of desire’s chain.
Victory’s prize? A fleeting gust,
But defeat’s gift is sacred trust.”

Yet such truths rarely find takers. As the poets warn:

Simab mocked, “I’ll sell Wisdom’s Book for gold—some will call it a bargain.”

Yunas Marmar replied, “I’ll give its key away—and still, none will claim it.”

Here lies the tragedy: We worship force but fear the fearless; we price insight but refuse its cost. The conquerors of self remain the only victors—yet their crowns gather dust in a world that trades keys for coins.