About Sustainable Peace
My Mission is to Create a Happier, More Sustainable and Peaceful Future
Investing in weapons essentially means investing in war, and the only winner in war is the arms industry. Arms fairs and mass events—such as BEDEX and the NIDV Exhibition for Defence and Security (NEDS)—only serve to reinforce the perilous entanglement between politics and the war industry; notably, the former featured a gala sponsored by ING, with Belgian Defence Minister Theo Francken and Belgian Prime Minister Bart De Wever attending as guests of honour.
Let us have the courage to put a stop to this!
The arms industry relies almost entirely on public funds and cannot survive without them. That tax money comes from sectors that actually serve our collective security and prosperity: housing, culture, education, social welfare and healthcare, climate action, and development cooperation. Quite apart from the questions one might raise regarding the sense—or nonsense—of an arms race in a world containing weapons of mass destruction, citizens do not benefit from a war economy. On the contrary, citizens want a decent roof over their heads; they want to be able to buy food and other basic necessities at affordable prices; and they want to live free from fear and enjoy socialising with one another, whether at home or at the local community centre.
Daring to Choose Peace. A Story about Courage, Humanity, and Reordering our Priorities.
A world at a crossroads – your perspective on safety.
It is a clear, cold day in March, and the bells no longer toll.
Everything is digital. Picture this: you wake up in a world where technology connects us, science heals, and communication builds bridges between people who would otherwise never meet. It seems fantastic, and we are right in the middle of it; we are living and experiencing it now. Yet, at the same time, you sense that something isn't right. While we make so-called progress, the arms industry is growing and defense budgets are only getting bigger. We stand not only at a point where everything seems—or perhaps even is—possible, but also where uncertainty is eagerly fueled by fear and rearmament.
What does safety actually mean to you? Is it protection against external threats, such as border conflicts, terrorism, or cyberattacks? Or do you view safety as ensuring social justice, access to healthcare, adequate housing, and the freedom to live without fear or exclusion? Perhaps you think of the elderly lady next door who feels safe knowing the whole street would come to her aid if needed. Or of someone who only truly feels at ease when there is a visible police presence on the streets.
Think back to a moment when you felt safe. Was it in a cozy, warm home, surrounded by family? Or was it when you knew there were clear rules and protection in place? Perhaps you recall a situation that wasn't about weapons, but rather a hand on your shoulder and words of reassurance. What is the essence of safety for you? Does it consist of fences, walls, locks, and cameras, or of trust and connection?
At this crossroads of progress and uncertainty, I invite you to reflect: what form of security do you desire for yourself, your family, your neighborhood, and the world? Is it merely about averting threats, or is it about building—together—a society centered on well-being, respect, and justice? Do you dare to choose a vision that transcends the fear of the unknown and makes room for hope and connection?
War and armed conflict have existed for as long as organized human society, with roots stretching back to the Neolithic and Bronze Ages. In fact, there has never been a prolonged period in history without war, making it a constant phenomenon throughout human history. Organized warfare began when humans settled and started defending possessions—such as land and resources—a trend that intensified during the Bronze Age. Archaeological evidence shows that armed conflict and weapon-inflicted injuries have been a constant presence over the centuries. According to the Stichting Vluchteling (Refugee Foundation), the number of conflicts worldwide is currently at an unprecedented high, with various active wars and hotspots of unrest in 2024 and 2025. Although there have been periods of relative peace between major powers, conflicts are almost always underway somewhere in the world.
António Guterres addressed world leaders: “It is clear that the world has the means to improve lives, restore the planet, and secure a future of peace and justice. In 2026, I call upon leaders everywhere: take this seriously. Choose people and planet over pain. Let us rise together this new year: for justice. For humanity. For peace.”
It is interesting to note that Iceland is often cited as one of the most peaceful countries, as it has no standing army and has not actively participated in wars since gaining independence. Costa Rica has not had an army since 1949 and is politically very stable and peaceful. Many small island nations—such as Kiribati, Nauru, and various Caribbean islands—have no military of their own, meaning they are rarely, if ever, actively involved in war.
I invite you to answer the questions above not only with your head but, above all, with your heart. For safety is more than the absence of danger; it is a shared quest for humanity, connection, and the courage to truly choose peace.
Investing in weapons is investing in war.
The proposition that investing in weapons is investing in war represents a moral and ethical stance that currently lies at the heart of the public debate on sustainable investing. There are various—often conflicting—perspectives on this subject. However, I want to take this further than just the realm of investment. Or rather, step outside the investment world entirely, for I have learned that money can destroy more than one might wish. But that is not the topic at hand; this book is about peace and choosing peace.
There are a number of organizations that argue that investments in the arms industry are unethical because they contribute—directly or indirectly—to conflicts, human rights violations, and unnecessary suffering.
Governments invest billions in weapons systems and frequently present this as a contribution to peace. This pattern has persisted for millennia. Yet weapons are not meant merely to gather dust; they are designed for actual use. The industry’s logic is crystal clear: weapons are not symbols of peace but instruments destined for deployment when the situation demands it. And when weapons are deployed, casualties inevitably follow.
By investing in weapons, we invest in the possibility—and sometimes even the likelihood—of war. After all, the arms industry thrives on conflict. From an economic standpoint, there is a vested interest in the continuation of tensions: the greater the threat, the higher the level of investment and the more the industry flourishes. This creates a market where conflicts are viewed not as dangers, but as business opportunities. Less than a decade ago, investing in the arms industry was considered controversial. Today, Dutch citizens are buying shares in defense companies in droves. War and conflict have become a source of profit. India and Pakistan, for instance, have been on a war footing for years. Yet Dutch financial institutions continue to invest in the arms suppliers to these countries.
This does not mean that people working in the arms industry necessarily have bad intentions. Many employees simply do their jobs within a system of economic incentives. However, the system itself treats armament as a given, while making disarmament economically unattractive. This results in a situation where fueling a war economy comes at the expense of investments in areas that truly contribute to security and well-being, such as housing, culture, education, and healthcare.
The only winner of war.
There is no fixed winner of war in general terms. The winner is the party that achieves its objectives or forces the opponent to surrender—outcomes that vary from one conflict to another. War has many losers: civilians who lose their homes, young people who lose their futures, and societies that lose trust. The only true, structural winner of war is the arms industry. Politicians decide on war and peace, not economists. Or are politicians being steered by those who profit from war? Those who serve as CEOs or owners of arms industry companies, and those who invest their capital in the sector. The economy plays a key role. Economic strength (or weakness) is a contributing factor in the outcome of any war. Yet the economy also determines how much money is available for a robust defense during peacetime. A telling indicator of the fear of war is the share price of the German tank manufacturer Rheinmetall. The day before Russia invaded Ukraine three years ago, the share price stood at 98 euros; today, it is 1,197 euros.
While cities lie in ruins and families mourn, the share prices of defense companies are rising. Production lines are running at full capacity. New contracts are being signed. Every escalation brings new orders. In a fully realized war economy, the economic mechanism of war entails the total mobilization of resources, with the state dominating the market to maximize the military effort—often at the expense of civilian prosperity.
This is not a conspiracy, but an economic mechanism. A market that thrives on conflict will never view conflict as an existential threat, but rather as a business opportunity.
The allure of arms fairs.
Arms fairs present themselves as neutral networking events. Innovation, technology, international cooperation—these are the buzzwords echoing through conference halls.
Take, for example, BEDEX or the NIDV Exhibition for Defence and Security (NEDS). These are large-scale events where manufacturers, policymakers, and military representatives meet.
When such events are accompanied by galas sponsored by financial institutions like ING, and when prominent politicians such as Theo Francken and Bart De Wever appear as guests of honor, a symbolism emerges that goes beyond mere economic cooperation.
It illustrates just how closely politics, finance, and the defense industry can become intertwined.
If you visit an arms fair, you see it: war is expanding. From land, sea, and air to cyberspace and even further into space. Major powers try to outdo one another with state-of-the-art, exorbitantly expensive weaponry. Yet no one you speak to there is truly critical of this, or wonders aloud where it will all lead. Not the soldiers protecting their country, the politicians seeking more jobs, the manufacturers making vast sums of money, or the researchers helping to develop even more armaments. They all have their own motives and interests, but together they are creating an ever-growing behemoth that must be constantly fed.
Mutual distrust is growing, international tensions are rising, and the arms industry is flourishing as never before. And that is deeply unsettling. Walking through the exhibition, you notice no signs of tension or conflict. Everything is pristine; Korean women offer massages at their stands, you receive gifts everywhere, and the atmosphere inspires confidence and offers opportunities to all. The war itself is not fought at the arms fair; that takes place far away. And yet, every company exhibiting there relies on war—to succeed, to make money, and to stay ahead of the competition. All done neatly, cleanly, and with a smile.
Politics and industry: a dangerous entanglement.
Democracy presupposes that political decisions serve the public interest. However, when a sector relies heavily on government funding, a mutual dependency arises. The arms industry runs almost entirely on public funds; it cannot survive without government contracts. This means that tax revenue—money that ultimately belongs to the citizens—directly finances weapons production. When politicians simultaneously act as policymakers, advocates, and promoters for that same industry, the boundary between public responsibility and private interests becomes blurred. This is not an accusation against specific individuals, but a call for vigilance regarding structures that conflate these interests. The intertwining of politics and industry is often viewed as a dangerous relationship, as the interests of power and capital can clash with the public interest, democratic integrity, and security. This symbiosis can create structural risks where the government ceases to operate independently, instead steering policy to benefit specific industrial sectors—leading to a lack of transparency and potential corruption. Currently, there is a strong entanglement between politics and the defense industry, the latter of which profits from geopolitical tensions. The billions spent on weaponry can create a dangerous gap between rhetoric regarding security and the reality of peace. The integration of AI into military systems by this industrial-academic complex is also perceived as a risk.
Past studies have shown that administrative integrity is structurally at risk when politics and certain industrial sectors—such as the livestock industry—collaborate too closely, leading to situations conducive to corruption. The intertwining of pension funds and the financial sector is viewed as a risk to pension accumulation. In sectors like the chemical industry, industrial processes involving hazardous substances can pose safety risks, with the government playing a crucial role in regulation and oversight. Employers' organizations such as VNO-NCW and MKB-Nederland frequently engage with policymakers regarding the importance of the Dutch manufacturing industry, sometimes discussing what they perceive as a smear campaign against the business community. Entrepreneurs express concern about political stability and reliability, which influences investment decisions; political chaos leads to reduced business investment. The government actively promotes the establishment and growth of domestic industry. Striking a balance between fostering the economy and safeguarding public integrity and safety remains a subject of ongoing societal debate and concern.
What does a war economy really cost us?
Every euro can be spent only once. The Netherlands is raising its defense budget to €26,860,528,000 (over €26.8 billion) in 2026—a significant increase driven by enhanced security requirements—according to the Ministry of Defence. With this move, the Netherlands meets the NATO target of spending at least 2% of its gross domestic product (GDP) on defense. In 2024, this figure stood at approximately €19.9 billion. Global defense spending has skyrocketed in recent years, reaching record highs driven primarily by geopolitical tensions and the war in Ukraine. In 2024, countries worldwide spent a combined total of $2,700 billion on defense—equivalent to $334 for every person on Earth. Four percent ($93 billion) of that $2,700 billion in annual global military spending would be enough to end world hunger by 2030!
The billions spent on armaments cannot simultaneously be invested in:
• affordable housing
• culture and community building
• education
• social welfare and healthcare
• climate policy
• development cooperation
These are areas that genuinely contribute to human security and prosperity. Quite apart from fundamental questions regarding the sense—or lack thereof—of an arms race in a world containing weapons of mass destruction, one thing is clear: citizens do not benefit from a war economy. A war economy normalizes a state of constant threat. It legitimizes mistrust. It turns conflict into a structural business model.
WHAT CITIZENS REALLY WANT
What do people truly want? At their core, human beings want to be happy, find meaning, and feel connected. Fundamental needs include security, love, personal growth, and appreciation. People often strive to develop their talents, make meaningful choices, and experience contentment in their daily lives. You want a decent roof over your head. Affordable food. Access to healthcare when you are ill. Education for your children. You want a habitable planet. Freedom from fear. The chance to have a pleasant chat—whether at home or at the local community center. Perhaps it helps to list them:
1. security and safety (in familiar surroundings)
2. challenge and variety (renewal)
3. receiving appreciation and making a difference to others
4. love and connection
5. self-expression
6. personal growth
7. a sense of purpose
These are not utopian desires; they are basic needs. Humans are social beings who need relationships, recognition, and the opportunity to be of value to others. Fundamentally, we have no desire to hurt other people or—worse—to slaughter them.
REINVENTING SECURITY
What if we defined security differently? Not as military superiority, but in terms of human dignity. Military superiority is often viewed as a means to ensure security, yet it offers no direct guarantee and can even foster a sense of insecurity. Security is not merely protection against an external enemy; it also encompasses social security, affordable energy, stable communities, and mutual trust. A strong military and a visible show of force are considered integral to our national security system and a safeguard for domestic safety. However, military superiority does not always yield lasting security. In some instances, an imbalance of power—where one party dominates—can actually diminish security. The pursuit of technological superiority, such as in AI, amplifies existing threats and can lead to a less secure world, highlighting that security entails far more than just possessing weaponry. Security is defined not only by superiority but also by collective security arrangements, such as the NATO alliance. Increasing military might to prevent war can backfire, potentially leading to an escalation of violence. While military superiority is part of current security policy, security is a broader concept that also encompasses diplomacy and strategic alliances. Ultimately, true security emerges when inequality diminishes, when diplomacy prevails over threats, and when international cooperation focuses on conflict prevention rather than escalation.
Investing in peace means investing in dialogue, education, poverty reduction, climate action, and equitable economic structures. Investing in peace is a multifaceted process that goes beyond the mere absence of war; it is about building positive peace. This encompasses conflict prevention, dialogue, justice, and addressing the root causes of violence. We must invest in peace negotiations and diplomatic channels to resolve conflicts before they escalate. We need to strengthen the rule of law and the protection of human rights, as this contributes to a stable society. We can focus on conflict prevention by addressing the sources of tension at an early stage. We must stop investing in the arms industry and instead choose banks and funds that invest ethically and in ways that promote peace. It is valuable to support organizations such as PAX and the New Peace Movement, which work towards inclusive peace, the protection of civilians, and the end of armed violence. We need to invest in education focused on understanding, tolerance, and non-violent conflict resolution. We must actively work to break down "us-versus-them" thinking and strengthen dialogue between different groups in society. We need to elect a trustworthy government, as this reduces the risk of internal conflict. We must eliminate economic inequality, which leads to unrest. Everyone must have access to reliable information to prevent manipulation and escalation. We should call for investments in diplomacy and peace rather than solely in defense and armaments. Investing in peace is a strategic choice for sustainable security, prioritizing human capital and structural solutions over military deterrence.
THE POWER OF CIVIC COURAGE
Change begins not only in parliaments but also in living rooms—in the minds and thoughts of people on the street, at home, in community centers, in youth centers, and on the battlefield. In her book *The Russian Revolution* (1918), Rosa Luxemburg describes how Russian soldiers, exhausted by the imperialist war, laid down their arms and joined the revolutionary workers. According to her 1918 analysis, the Russian soldiers spontaneously laid down their weapons in 1917, driven by a yearning for peace and revolution. Rosa herself also called—notably in the *Junius Pamphlet* (1915/1916)—for workers from all countries, including Russia, to lay down their arms in the imperialist war.
Civic courage forms the foundation of an open society grounded in human rights. It is a force that puts democratic competencies into practice—for instance, by intervening in cases of discrimination or injustice. Civic courage often stems from empathy and the desire to protect others. It demonstrates compassion by showing gentleness toward the victim while standing firm against the perpetrator. It acts as a counterforce essential to a healthy legal order. Where power can lead to abuse, civic courage offers a voice and a challenge to authority. Courage is not the absence of fear, but the ability to confront uncertainty, intimidation, or threats. It is the moral strength to take that step and act in accordance with one’s own values. It demonstrates personal leadership by remaining true to oneself and one’s ethical principles. Civic courage transforms a bystander into a participant who positively influences society by saying "no" to injustice and "yes" to humanity.
Citizens have more influence than they sometimes realize:
• by asking critical questions
• by demanding transparency
• by voting
• by organizing peacefully
• by highlighting alternatives
• by saying no
• by simply refusing to pick up weapons
History shows that societal shifts often begin with people who dare to say: things can be done differently.
Let us dare to put a stop to it.
It is time to face an uncomfortable truth: investing in weapons means investing in war.
And if the only structural winner of war is the arms industry, then we must ask ourselves if that is the kind of economy we want to fuel.
Daring to stop means:
• reprioritizing public funds
• transparency regarding the interconnections between politics and the defense industry
• investing in human security
• choosing diplomacy and prevention
Peace is not a naive ideal. It is a political and economic choice.
The question is not whether we can afford peace.
The question is whether we can continue to afford war.
Let us dare to stop doing so!
How do we stop?
That is the core question. It is not just a matter of why we must stop fueling a war economy, but above all, how we will actually go about doing so. Stopping is not something achieved in a single gesture. Johan Cruyff and I might argue that it could be done quite simply—by just stopping—but for humanity and the world, it is a process unfolding on multiple levels simultaneously: political, economic, and societal. I will attempt to outline a realistic roadmap.
We need to redefine security. As long as security is almost automatically equated with military spending, the debate remains at a standstill. We must redefine security as: livelihood security, access to healthcare and education, energy and food security, climate stability, and robust diplomacy.
We will make financial flows transparent. Many citizens are unaware of how much tax money goes into defense contracts or the extent to which industry and politics are intertwined. This means there must be full disclosure regarding defense contracts, transparency concerning lobbying activities, and public reporting of bank investments. When events such as the NIDV Exhibition for Defence and Security (NEDS) or BEDEX take place, it must be clear who is providing funding, who is participating, and what policy decisions are involved. Transparency alone does not stop anything, but it does enable democratic oversight.
We will also provide economic alternatives. After all, you do not stop a war economy simply by closing factories; you stop it by offering alternatives. Convert defense production to civilian technology (renewable energy, infrastructure, medical equipment). Invest in regional employment outside the military sector. Encourage innovation programs focused on climate and healthcare. The knowledge and technical capacity within the defense sector can be harnessed to address societal needs.
We need to reform public investment criteria. Currently, banks and pension funds play a key role. When institutions like ING invest in defense-related activities, they do so because regulations permit it. Governments can impose stricter ethical investment frameworks, regulate arms exports more rigorously, and exclude weapons systems from public funds. This is not a radical step; it is a policy choice.
Reducing international tensions through diplomacy. An arms race often stems from mutual fear; increased military spending on one side leads to increased spending on the other. Instead, we will invest in diplomatic relations, conflict prevention, international treaties, and confidence-building measures. This can curb that dynamic. However, this requires political courage, as diplomacy offers less visible displays of strength than new weapons systems.
We need to organize civic pressure more effectively. Political choices rarely change without societal pressure. We must not forget that citizens can ask elected officials critical questions, organize peaceful actions, demand transparency, base their voting decisions on peace policies, and support local initiatives that foster social safety. Democracy is not a spectator sport.
Break the narrative—that supposedly coherent story of inevitability. One of the most powerful ideas in a war economy is the notion that "it simply has to be this way." This is, of course, utter nonsense! It does not have to be this way at all! We need peace! Nothing in policy is inevitable. Budgets are choices. Priorities are choices. Alliances are choices. The question is not whether stopping is possible; the question is whether there is sufficient political and societal will.
What does “stopping” actually mean? Stopping does not mean naively disarming. It does not mean automatic increases in defense budgets without democratic debate, nor the normalization of permanent arms fairs as a key economic driver, nor the unquestioned intermingling of politics and industry; rather, it means structural investments in human security.
The reality is that we will not wake up tomorrow in a world without weapons. Yet, we can start today by shifting priorities, asking questions, demanding alternatives, and normalizing the idea that peace is not a sign of weakness, but a matter of rational policy.
Stopping is not a matter of flipping a switch. It is a change of course. And every change of course begins with the realization that we are not obliged to carry on as we have been.
A YEAR OF PEACE ON EARTH
A year of peace on earth would signify an unprecedented transformation of the global order, with conflicts resolved through dialogue rather than violence. This ideal—often invoked as a moment for reflection or an aspiration for a better world—encompasses the following: an end to armed conflicts, with armies worldwide ceasing their attacks. While initiatives like the International Day of Peace call for a 24-hour ceasefire, this scenario extends that pause to a full year. Mutual respect and connectedness: peace implies not merely the absence of war, but active, positive relationships between individuals and nations—a state of wholeness and unity. Societal impact: this year offers an opportunity to reflect on peace as an active pursuit, prioritizing pacifism and dialogue over military intervention. Hope and leadership: it demands active commitment from leaders to halt genocide and attacks—such as those in Darfur or Ukraine—and to choose security and cooperation over violence. In the realms of culture and media, "peace on earth" also serves as a symbol of warmth and connection; for instance, in the traditional New Year's Eve comedy specials, where the past year is reviewed and apologies are offered.
A full year of peace on earth—meaning no wars, no armed conflicts, and no violence between states—would radically transform the world. Not perfect. Not utopian. But certainly noticeably different. The year might look something like this:
Silence would fall over war zones. In places where fighting has raged for years—such as Ukraine, Sudan, or between Israel and Palestine—daily life would suddenly change. No air-raid sirens, no bombings, no new refugees. Families would be reunited, and reconstruction would begin immediately. Even a single year without violence would save hundreds of thousands of lives!
What are we waiting for?
Billions in funds shifting from weapons to people. Worldwide, countries spend over $2.7 trillion annually on defense. If that amount were redirected for just one year, more money would go toward education, investments in climate action, and the accelerated development of clean energy, alongside improved healthcare and debt relief for impoverished nations. Just imagine: military budgets temporarily diverted to fighting poverty.
What are we waiting for?
The climate would get some breathing room. Wars cause massive pollution (explosions, fires, military logistics). A year of peace would mean lower CO₂ emissions, less destruction of ecosystems, and greater international cooperation on climate issues. Perhaps nations would join forces to fast-track major climate agreements—much like the earlier attempt with the Paris Agreement.
What are we waiting for?
A sense of mental calm would spread across the globe. War affects not just soldiers but entire societies; the result would be less trauma among children, less fear in news and politics, and greater trust between nations. The media would focus less on conflict and more on cooperation.
What are we waiting for?
Diplomacy would become the new weapon. If nations were required to resolve conflicts without violence, we would see more peace conferences, creative diplomacy, and regional cooperation. Organizations like the United Nations would suddenly take center stage.
What are we waiting for?
But… it still wouldn’t be a perfect world. Political tensions would persist, and economic inequality would remain. Crime wouldn’t automatically cease, nor would ideological differences vanish. Peace means the absence of war; unfortunately, it doesn’t immediately guarantee harmony. Perhaps the greatest impact would be that people would see that peace is possible. And perhaps a single year would be enough to prove that lasting peace is not naive, but a choice.
Will we go from one year to forever?