There
are those who hate thinking for themselves, who hate making their own decisions
and would rather have someone else make these decisions for them. They tend to
believe whatever they’re told, are confident that a person in power has all the
right answers, knows best and whose judgment conquers all, even when that
judgment is highly questionable. Forming one’s own opinions and going against
the status quo is a heavy task to undertake for these people. Conforming to the
will of one who has enough will power to be in charge is comforting. Admiring, in others, the very qualities that one lacks can be inspiring; however, simply
admiring someone based on their position of power can be tricky.
Dictators
don’t walk around carrying pitchforks and spewing fire: they are wolves in
sheep’s clothing. A bon vivant who charms everyone with a great sense of humour
and a boisterous laugh can win over the coldest hearts, and convince the most
righteous man to do unspeakable acts.
A
good leader needs followers who can discern right from wrong; an abusive one on
the other hand needs ‘yes men’.
The ‘yes
men’ are part of the ruler’s inner circle: they are confidantes, their spouse
or children, even associates who wouldn’t dare contradict or question their leader’s
decision. When he’s being rude, hypocritical and condescending during a
meeting, the ‘yes men’ let it slide. When his business practices become corrupt,
the ‘yes men’ are there to forge receipts.
When
‘yes men’ become disgusted by these actions, abandon the inner circle and decide
to put an end to what proves to be a reign of terror, the leader feels
threatened. That’s where the goons come in. They’re the first ones to decry the
dissidents’ blatant disrespect. Strategically chosen to enforce ‘order’, the
goons’ purpose goes beyond physical protection: their purpose is to defend the
leader’s honour and accuse the agitators of conspiracy. Within the inner
circle, a new battle begins to put a stop to subversive actions, by all means
necessary.
Propaganda
is absolutely vital at this point, where lies are spread, names are sullied,
and blame is placed on the righteous. Followers who simply can’t accept that
such a nice man could do such awful things choose to live in denial and accept
the lies the inner circle feed them. They even accept to distant themselves
from ‘free-thinkers’, on orders of the inner circle: you’re either with us or
against us. Since there’s too much at risk (friendships, social status and
upward mobility), followers abide and participate in weaving an awfully complex
web of lies to protect themselves from the leader’s and the inner circle’s
disapproval.
The
followers then become marionettes.
Vitriolic
attacks divide a community into two camps, where one professes justice and
truth, and the other perpetuating an illusion of order. Nevertheless, only one
can remain. Public confrontations
take the form of Greek tragedies: the comedians respect their cues, the scene
captivates the audience and the main spotlight is on stand-by, waiting for the
play’s protagonist to make his entrance and perform his monologue.
The
spectacle continues long after the curtains are drawn and the audience leaves
the theatre.
The
inner circle, that first served as ambassadors to the ruler’s good name, are so
deeply engrossed in this vendetta that they have managed to tarnish their own
name in the process. The goons and the marionettes are now the object of
ridicule among the defenders of truth.
What’s
to become of the dictator and his minions? The rise and fall from the throne is
steep, and once the mighty have fallen, the goons and marionettes are surprisingly
nowhere to be found. Who can therefore cushion the fall?

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