The Illusion of Strength: How America's Warped Definition Empowers Trump
The strongest men I have ever known bore no resemblance to Donald Trump. They practiced restraint, using empathy rather than volume to lead. They apologized without fear, corrected themselves when wrong, and understood that cruelty is weakness disguised. These men learned true strength through experience—at home, in service, and in their professions.
A Performance of Domination, Not Leadership
In contrast, the US president displays a distorted version of strength. Recently, while his vice-president engaged with a foreign autocrat, Trump escalated conflicts with Iran and mocked Pope Leo XIV, posting a blasphemous image comparing himself to Jesus Christ. He claimed it depicted him as a doctor, yet the message was clear: a performance of domination.
Trump did not invent these tactics; he auditions for them. Real strength, even counterfeit, requires no such reassurance. Instead, he reveals deep-seated assumptions about power and masculinity that have long simmered beneath American society. These ideas reward refusal to yield, flatten authenticity into grievance, and reduce resolve to the capacity for harm.
The Uneven Application of Strength
These assumptions are not applied evenly. Many Americans, particularly people of color and women, have known since childhood that they would never receive the indulgence Trump enjoys. Discipline is demanded, mistakes magnified, and composure required at all times. Imagine Barack Obama or a woman of color behaving similarly—political survival would be unthinkable.
The president appears strong because we have decided strength looks like this. He seems authentic because we equate impulse with honesty, and resolute because we mistake escalation for courage. These decisions, made long before Trump's birth, explain why many Americans now absorb or admire behavior that once disqualified a president.
The Danger of Confusing Cruelty with Strength
This confusion becomes perilous when it meets real power. A presidency treating brinkmanship as proof of strength degrades political culture and risks lives. It invites conflict, turns serious decisions into petty performances, and echoes the "delusion of omnipotence" denounced by the first American pope regarding the US-Israel war against Iran.
Peace is not weakness but moral clarity, a stark contrast to Trump's leadership. His dismissal of such positions reveals more about the culture receiving it than the man making the argument.
Lessons from Hungary's Strongman Defeat
Hungary's strongman, Viktor Orbán, recently lost power, but his ideas live on in the White House. Autocrats rise but are not invincible; they fall when the public stops recognizing them as strong. This reckoning comes late and at a steep cost, only when enough people decide they have seen enough.
I see no sign America is close to such a reckoning. The men I grew up watching understood strength's true cost—no performance needed. Some learned this early, not as character but survival. We couldn't afford to confuse cruelty with strength. Too many still can.
Trump's behavior is tolerated because of our warped definition of strength. As Orbán's defeat shows, autocratic tactics may rise, but they are not eternal. The question remains: when will America decide it has seen enough?
