Just because there's peace, doesn't mean there's plenty or prosperity, or happiness. When the grass has dried up and blown away, and bleached bones litter the landscape, and you just served your weaker children who didn't make it, to the stronger ones who might last a little longer, without telling them what it was, and that little Johny went to live on the farm, because in desperate times you have to make desperate choices, and the sentence goes on and on and on, then everyone will be too tired and hungry to fight. Then there will be peace.