The rebellion an insecure government creates

There is a strange paradox about political power:

The more insecure an administration becomes, the more aggressively it tries to prove that it is in control.

A criticism is treated as an attack. A question becomes disloyalty. A political opponent is no longer simply someone who disagrees, but someone who must be neutralized. And so the machinery of government begins responding not to serious threats to the state, but to every perceived challenge to the authority of those running it.

And we have seen this movie time and time again.

The clearest example is the period leading to the fall of Ferdinand Marcos.

Martial law did not emerge in a political vacuum. The Philippines of the late 1960s and early 1970s was already experiencing serious unrest, student activism, and political conflict.

But when martial law was declared in 1972, the government’s response to political instability became dramatically more sweeping. Political opponents were arrested, media freedoms were curtailed, and the military assumed a much larger role in political life.

Among those imprisoned was a rising political opponent: Senator Benigno “Ninoy” Aquino Jr.
His assassination in 1983 became a defining moment in the country’s political history.

Whatever one’s political interpretation of the Marcos years, one fact is difficult to ignore:
the opposition that existed before martial law was not erased by suppressing it.

Over time, it acquired new symbols.

And Ninoy Aquino became one of them.

His death helped bring together people who did not necessarily share the same ideology, political party or economic interests. Businessmen, students, religious leaders, and ordinary citizens could disagree about many things while nevertheless agreeing that something had gone profoundly wrong.

That is how several sects of political opposition came together into one cohesive movement.
It did not necessarily occur because everyone suddenly embraces the same ideology, but because people understood that disagreements were part of the political process.

To silence one person’s dissent is to silence all of ours.

To continuously adopt Darth Vader’s position of “If you’re not with me, then you’re my enemy” exudes an imperialistic mindset of a feudal lord that demands absolute obedience. It creates resentment even in people who eventually fall in line. It is done not out of some sense of love or loyalty, but of compliance.

It’s this treatment of the people that gave rise to revolution after revolution. In a democratic country, the people cannot be silenced all of the time. Those suppressed thoughts constantly checked for loyalty by authority are expressed in soft whispers, until eventually it can coalesce into a movement large enough to make its voice heard.

The constant exercise of power to stamp out opposition creates the feelings that eventually give it the motivation to rise up.

And this is not a phenomenon reserved for presidents, dictators or national revolutions. It happens at much smaller scales.

The same psychology can appear in an ordinary local government, only with smaller institutions and smaller consequences.

A local official who interprets criticism as an attack.

An organization leader that views questions as betrayals.

A key person of influence that keeps questioning which side you’re on.

A person with a title who constantly demands to be acknowledged.

All that this shows is a tenuous hold on whatever position of power that particular person has. Insecurity wafts off every decision to question whether a person or organization is with them, accompanied by subtle threats of reprisal if they are not.

Insecurity in leadership does not always lead to a revolution, but it is fertile ground on which opposition flourishes.

The movement is no longer about pushing a specific interest. Several movements come together simply to replace the power that tries to choke its own people into submission.

The mechanics are remarkably simple. And the pattern is easy to recognize.

First, someone raises a question. It need not be a complex or entirely serious question. It only needs to not wholly accept the position of the person in power.

The question is then interpreted as a challenge. The challenge is seen as disrespect. The disrespect becomes a manifestation of disloyalty. The disloyalty is surely a sign of opposition.

And opposition, of course, cannot be allowed to exist. It may challenge the position of the ruling power. It must be stamped out before it grows or is allowed life. And so, the insecurity has bred itself into a constant defense of why power should remain where it currently resides.

And the irony is that it could have been easily avoided if the question was welcomed as a collaborative and earnest effort to contribute. Instead, what we find is that those who try so hard to cling to power by attempting to stamp out dissent end up growing their own rebellion.