In some societies, there is no distinction between religious elites and political elites. In others, there is a strong wall between them. Either way, they tend to have direct access to huge swaths of the populace and influence with them. This is an irresistible target for the proto-tyrant to court or nullify.
In many cases, the shrewd proto-tyrant will pose as befriending the major religious sect or, at least, dissemble that they mean it no harm. It is extremely enticing for the leaders of these sects to give the proto-tyrant public support or, at least, studiously refrain from criticizing their regime. There is apparently much to be gained or, at least, much less to lose in terms of their temporal power and ability to continue serving their faithful.
It is supremely ironic to ask religious leaders what the price of their souls is. Yet, this is the question they must ask themselves. Power is power, whether in military uniform, judicial robes, or clerical garb. It is hard to risk losing it. But that very power carries with it the burden to deploy it in service of the good.
Your congregants—your followers—constitute a decisive segment of the populace—of the ultimate seat of political power. If you signal your support for the proto-tyrant, you are enabling and paving the trajectory to full tyranny. Your minimum obligation is to not lend the prestige of your role to support an illusion of the proto-tyrant as a defender of the faith or messianic messenger. Nor to use this illusion as a rationale for your own choices.
Beyond that, your role becomes more delicate. There is a legitimate argument for keeping the political out of the worship service. All present deserve to be held in the embrace of the faith. Inevitably, political views will range across the spectrum. Using the pulpit to cajole for or against the proto-tyrant violates the sanctity of the worship space. If doing so becomes a drumbeat, you will literally be preaching to the choir as those who do not share your views will withdraw or find congregations better aligned with their politics.
Some will argue this stand would be a dereliction of moral duty. In the face of a widespread campaign against vulnerable minorities, doesn’t the spiritual leader have a duty to speak for the voiceless? To uphold the sanctity of all human life? This is a powerful argument.
An answer to the conflicting obligations lies in using the power of the pulpit to speak against specific immoral policies without targeting the regime itself. This may be thought to split hairs but that is the very point. One can remain a follower of the duly constituted political regime while vocally questioning egregious policies. This is the very essence of courageous followership.
To those who do not bear responsibility for a congregation, this may seem too weak a response to the increasingly abusive use of power. Yet, it may be the appropriate response for a vested religious leader; still an act of courage and, in the best case, a corrective to the autocrat who learns the limits of their “free pass” for accruing and abusing governing power.
Should the proto-tyrant fail to absorb the lessons being taught to the populace from the pulpit and continue on an egregious path toward tyrannical rule, the religious elite can follow their source of moral guidance and choose to become activists. This is the measured, latent power of elite privilege. The challenge is timing; too soon and you lose the congregation, too late and you lose the window of opportunity. Indeed, this is a time for guidance, judgment, and courage.
Chaleff is a speaker, innovative thinker and the author of “ To Stop a Tyrant: The Power of Political Followers to Make or Brake a Toxic Leader.” This is an excerpt from “To Stop a Tyrant.”




















U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio speaks with U.S. President Donald Trump during a Cabinet meeting in the Cabinet Room of the White House on May 27, 2026 in Washington, D.C. Trump met with his Cabinet days after saying a peace deal with Iran was“ largely negotiated” amid expectations around the re-opening the Strait of Hormuz.
The worst deal in the history of deals
As a former Republican, sometimes it’s fun to look back on the things we — I was part of a “we” at one time — criticized Democrats for, and not all that long ago.
Remember, if you will, when Republicans condemned former President Bill Clinton for pardoning his brother and his corrupt donor friend Marc Rich?
Or, remember when Republicans wagged their fingers at former President Barack Obama’s golf outings? Or his executive orders? Or his Syrian “red line”?
Or all the times Republicans went after former President Joe Biden’s gaffes?
While those criticisms may have been justified at the time, they look patently ridiculous next to our current president’s cartoonish and downright dangerous offenses.
Offenses like pardoning Jan. 6 insurrectionists — nearly 100 of whom have gone on to be arrested for, charged with, or convicted of crimes separate from the events of that day.
Or wreaking havoc on the global economy by instituting reckless tariffs on friends, neighbors, and enemies alike?
Or taking a proverbial sledge hammer to countless government agencies that have put every American in danger, whether on airplanes, in hospitals, at job sites, or in natural disasters.
That’s just a few, but nothing looks worse next to his predecessors than Donald Trump’s supposed Iran deal, at least as it’s outlined in the Memorandum of Understanding, the details of which Trump was loath to share.
And for good reason — they are shockingly bad and humiliating for the U.S.
I remember Obama’s Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action or JCPOA from 2015 very well. I, along with many Republicans as well as a cadre of foreign policy experts, criticized that deal for its obvious and problematic concessions to a very bad actor who we’ve long known could not be trusted. But trust was what we gave the Iranian regime, as well as sudden access to a boatload of cash — $100 billion, to be exact.
All of Obama’s provisions were temporary, which would allow Iran to restart enriching uranium upon their sunset; the deal didn’t address Iran’s ballistic missiles, or its funding of terrorist proxies like Hezbollah and Hamas; the supposed “anytime, anywhere” inspections came with a 24-day delay, if Iran so chose, giving them ample time to hide any suspect materials; and it didn’t require any congressional authority.
In short, I’d argue it wasn’t a great deal. But as bad as it was, it looks like the Magna Carta next to Trump’s.
Trump’s deal would give Iran immediate sanction relief and access to $300 billion, presumably to use to fund terror proxies; it doesn’t secure any upfront limits on uranium enrichment or missile development; it allows Iran to charge for safe passage through the Strait of Hormuz in the future; and it calls for Israel to stop its attacks on Hezbollah, another win for Iran.
Neither Americans nor the Middle East are safer than we were 100-plus days ago when Trump decided to pursue this folly. And in fact, our economy is weaker for it. But Iran is unquestionably stronger and more emboldened.
They’ve seen Trump’s weakness, unseriousness, and frighteningly limited appreciation for history. They’ve seen him retreat on most of his core threats to the regime, from bombing their cultural sites to ending a civilization overnight. And they’ve taken notice as he’s abandoned the promises that were supposedly central to his justification for war in the first place — regime change, liberating the Iranian people, and removing Iran’s nuclear materials.
What a waste of blood and treasure, not to mention American might and power, only so that our enemies can watch us limp desperately toward a conclusion that’s being described — by the right — as “unthinkable,” “appeasement,” and “the worst foreign policy blunder in decades.”
S.E. Cupp is the host of "S.E. Cupp Unfiltered" on CNN.