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.”




















Eric Trump, the newly appointed ALT5 board director of World Liberty Financial, walks outside of the NASDAQ in Times Square as they mark the $1.5- billion partnership between World Liberty Financial and ALT5 Sigma with the ringing of the NASDAQ opening bell, on Aug. 13, 2025, in New York City.
Why does the Trump family always get a pass?
Deputy Attorney General Todd Blanche joined ABC’s “This Week” on Sunday to defend or explain a lot of controversies for the Trump administration: the Epstein files release, the events in Minneapolis, etc. He was also asked about possible conflicts of interest between President Trump’s family business and his job. Specifically, Blanche was asked about a very sketchy deal Trump’s son Eric signed with the UAE’s national security adviser, Sheikh Tahnoon.
Shortly before Trump was inaugurated in early 2025, Tahnoon invested $500 million in the Trump-owned World Liberty, a then newly launched cryptocurrency outfit. A few months later, UAE was granted permission to purchase sensitive American AI chips. According to the Wall Street Journal, which broke the story, “the deal marks something unprecedented in American politics: a foreign government official taking a major ownership stake in an incoming U.S. president’s company.”
“How do you respond to those who say this is a serious conflict of interest?” ABC host George Stephanopoulos asked.
“I love it when these papers talk about something being unprecedented or never happening before,” Blanche replied, “as if the Biden family and the Biden administration didn’t do exactly the same thing, and they were just in office.”
Blanche went on to boast about how the president is utterly transparent regarding his questionable business practices: “I don’t have a comment on it beyond Trump has been completely transparent when his family travels for business reasons. They don’t do so in secret. We don’t learn about it when we find a laptop a few years later. We learn about it when it’s happening.”
Sadly, Stephanopoulos didn’t offer the obvious response, which may have gone something like this: “OK, but the president and countless leading Republicans insisted that President Biden was the head of what they dubbed ‘the Biden Crime family’ and insisted his business dealings were corrupt, and indeed that his corruption merited impeachment. So how is being ‘transparent’ about similar corruption a defense?”
Now, I should be clear that I do think the Biden family’s business dealings were corrupt, whether or not laws were broken. Others disagree. I also think Trump’s business dealings appear to be worse in many ways than even what Biden was alleged to have done. But none of that is relevant. The standard set by Trump and Republicans is the relevant political standard, and by the deputy attorney general’s own account, the Trump administration is doing “exactly the same thing,” just more openly.
Since when is being more transparent about wrongdoing a defense? Try telling a cop or judge, “Yes, I robbed that bank. I’ve been completely transparent about that. So, what’s the big deal?”
This is just a small example of the broader dysfunction in the way we talk about politics.
Americans have a special hatred for hypocrisy. I think it goes back to the founding era. As Alexis de Tocqueville observed in “Democracy In America,” the old world had a different way of dealing with the moral shortcomings of leaders. Rank had its privileges. Nobles, never mind kings, were entitled to behave in ways that were forbidden to the little people.
In America, titles of nobility were banned in the Constitution and in our democratic culture. In a society built on notions of equality (the obvious exceptions of Black people, women, Native Americans notwithstanding) no one has access to special carve-outs or exemptions as to what is right and wrong. Claiming them, particularly in secret, feels like a betrayal against the whole idea of equality.
The problem in the modern era is that elites — of all ideological stripes — have violated that bargain. The result isn’t that we’ve abandoned any notion of right and wrong. Instead, by elevating hypocrisy to the greatest of sins, we end up weaponizing the principles, using them as a cudgel against the other side but not against our own.
Pick an issue: violent rhetoric by politicians, sexual misconduct, corruption and so on. With every revelation, almost immediately the debate becomes a riot of whataboutism. Team A says that Team B has no right to criticize because they did the same thing. Team B points out that Team A has switched positions. Everyone has a point. And everyone is missing the point.
Sure, hypocrisy is a moral failing, and partisan inconsistency is an intellectual one. But neither changes the objective facts. This is something you’re supposed to learn as a child: It doesn’t matter what everyone else is doing or saying, wrong is wrong. It’s also something lawyers like Mr. Blanche are supposed to know. Telling a judge that the hypocrisy of the prosecutor — or your client’s transparency — means your client did nothing wrong would earn you nothing but a laugh.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.