I have more hope for the heart of a coward than the heart of a tyrant. But I fear (and therefore respect) a tyrant more unless the tyrant is also a coward. They are often motivated by gross envy or hatred, nevertheless, there is a rotten sense of bravery and an assertion of will in their regime. Denying our respect for them leaves us susceptible. There’s a choice made by a tyrant to see the world as it is and to position themselves (stabbing others) according to its patterns. We mustn’t mistake our feelings of respect as evidence of another’s good character or worthiness of trust. Even though it feels wrong to say, I don’t feel the same respect for even the best intending coward. They aren’t capable of doing what the tyrant does, why would I? It’s not the moral capacity of the tyrant they lack. That’s condemnable. It’s the capacity (and the discipline) to induce great movement that’s missing. If they had that they no longer would be a coward.
But I have hope for the coward that I don’t for the tyrant. I connect it to Roger Scruton’s concept of “over-reaching intentionality”. Our minds have underlying intentions that push us in directions and set our bounds as beings. The coward hasn’t asserted themselves yet, so we can’t fully know their intentions (even if they seem good). This is different from the tyrant. We know them. The tyrant has asserted themselves. It’s rotten and rarely do any of us want to admit it. If we are honest–and believe our experiences–it’s clear not to trust tyrants. You just can’t get tricked by them or tricked by your own cognitive dissonance (and its will for continuation).
I’ve learned that assertions (and the consistent ones) are one of the best ways to know what someone is up to. Not assertions in isolation but a mapping of will. It’s important to remember that what appears cowardly doesn’t always make a coward, and what appears tyrannical doesn’t always make a tyrant. But someone who often acts cowardly is a coward. And someone who often acts tyrannical–no matter how good they project themselves–is a tyrant. Cowardice and its naivety can be what prevents you from seeing people as they are. The burden is on them to prove otherwise once the pattern emerges. Don’t pretend reality is different. It leaves us blind. Tyrants survive on it.
A confusing cycle of the tyrant is often they will demean the coward while propping them up. In psychological terms this overlaps with intermittent reinforcement. It creates a foggy confusion. They will make the coward feel they are king without requiring a king’s bravery and work but they never truly have the king’s power. As the coward is propped up, the tyrant will kick them and make them feel weak. This effectively creates a disillusioned spell-bound follower. But this is ideal for the tyrant. They get to satisfy their sadism, and leave the coward more cowardly than they began. This (in the tyrant’s hopes) leaves the coward more dependent on the tyrant to feel they can respect themselves. They shouldn’t respect themselves yet. They should prove to themselves they are worthy of it. But when the tyrant offers a poisonous stream of pride, why would a coward go force themselves to be brave? Each time you drink it, you become weaker.
You must be courageous if you want to be good. You must override the appeal of corruption with a commitment to goodness and its associates. And don’t let a tyrant define your terms–they want to keep you dependent. Sometimes the decisive good is to appear cowardly. And sometimes the decisive good is to be silent, watching carefully. Other times it is to hold your ground, and to scream your convictions. The actions of your decisive goodness might frighten cowards. And your acts of decisive goodness will almost certainly create a war with tyrants. What fights tyranny is a decisive will to be good and the bravery to act on it. As Nietzsche wrote: “he who must be a creator of good and evil: truly, he must first be a destroyer and break values”. Discern in your destruction, don’t be careless. But don’t sustain that which is rotten. A commitment to this takes a bucket of courage and a mirror in your hand.