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.”
When the United States was founded nearly three centuries later, the Founders carried this worldview with them. In the Constitution, they enshrined compromises that upheld racial hierarchy:
