Asking AI about democracy and the future (14/18): ChatGPT’s answer (3/7)
Why Democracy Still Matters: Hope in a Time of Crisis (3/7)
Part 3: The Tyranny of the Strong — Power and the Fragile
Soul
Why do people surrender freedom for strong
leaders? Why do authoritarian figures rise in moments of social fear, promising
order, pride, and control? Beneath the political explanation lies something
more personal—something within the human soul.
The Lure of the Dominant Leader
In times of chaos, many crave certainty. A
figure who speaks with conviction and promises to "take care of
everything" can be profoundly attractive. Especially when institutions
feel broken and the future seems unclear, the strongman appears not as a threat
but as a solution.
This is not new. History is full of such
figures—emperors, warlords, dictators—who rise by exploiting fear and offering
belonging. They promise restoration: of greatness, of order, of purity. And
they demand loyalty in return.
Power and the Fragile Soul
But why do we listen? Why do some cheer as
freedoms are stripped away?
One answer lies in the fragility of the
human soul. When people feel unseen, unheard, or ashamed, they become
vulnerable to domination—not because they want to dominate, but because they
long to be protected, to matter. The authoritarian leader seems to offer
strength they lack in themselves.
At the root of this is insecurity: about
identity, worth, and the complexity of life. The more fragile we feel inside,
the more we project strength outside. We blame. We demand purity. We shrink
from the responsibility of freedom because it feels too heavy to bear.
Paradoxically, the cult of strength often
grows from a place of inner weakness. It is a defense against vulnerability.
But democracy requires something else: the courage to be vulnerable, to listen,
to share power rather than hoard it.
The Seduction of Control
Authoritarianism seduces not only the
leaders but also the followers. It offers a simple story: us vs. them, truth
vs. lies, order vs. chaos. In this story, there’s no need to wrestle with
nuance, to listen to opponents, or to grow.
But democracy is not built on simplicity.
It is built on trust and patience—on institutions that outlast any one person,
and on citizens who believe that strength lies not in domination but in
cooperation.
Historical Vignette: Weimar Germany and the Rise of Hitler
Consider Germany in the 1920s. The Weimar
Republic was young, democratic, and deeply fragile. After the trauma of World
War I and the humiliation of the Treaty of Versailles,[1] many Germans felt
disoriented and resentful. Hyperinflation ravaged the economy. National
identity was in crisis.
In this context, Adolf Hitler rose to power
not simply by seizing it, but by offering a vision. He blamed enemies within
and without. He promised to restore German pride, order, and greatness. Many
embraced him—not just out of hatred, but out of fear and longing. The result
was catastrophe.
The lesson is chilling: authoritarianism
does not need brute force alone. It feeds on emotional wounds. It thrives where
dignity is lacking, and where democratic institutions fail to cultivate hope,
justice, and shared purpose.
To preserve democracy, we must look not
only at the systems of power but at the fears and longings that empower them.
In the next part of this series, we’ll examine how a culture obsessed with
wealth and success undermines the values that make democratic life possible.
Footnote
[1] The Treaty of Versailles was the
agreement that officially ended World War I, signed on June 28, 1919, in the
Hall of Mirrors at the Palace of Versailles. It imposed harsh penalties on
Germany, including territorial losses, military restrictions, and significant
financial reparations. Google AI Overview, viewed on June 20, 2025.

Comments
Post a Comment