In ancient times, the case for conquest was delivered by heroes who understood the power of inspiration.
Heroes understood that leading didn’t mean reading from a textbook but grabbing a sword and standing in front of warriors.
It meant leading the charge into battle. It meant being the first one to meet the enemy head on.
There was nothing romantic with the proposition of leadership.
Being a leader meant that you got hurt first. Got bloody first. Got wounded more often. Sometimes gave your life in pursuit of the conquest.
Leading wasn’t academic. It was deeply personal.
You led because submission wasn’t a price you were willing to pay. Bondage was unacceptable. Mediocrity intolerable.
What you had to do wasn’t a question of ideology, but one of pragmatism. One of personal investment.
Today, our mode of conquest is less banal.
We fight less with weapons and more with words. Less with muscle and more with money.
We lead because of titles and paychecks not because of an overwhelming sense of purpose. And destiny.
And while we pretend to be more sophisticated, we miss out on the crudeness of living with purpose. We miss out on the focus demanded by life or death conflict.
We expect to live longer, but our dreams die a shorter death.
And maybe that’s not living after all.
Maybe a life where our dreams are only words is really just fantasy after all.
Perhaps it’s time for the crudeness of conquest like our forefathers lead.
Perhaps it’s time for weapons. Not words.