Growing up in Albuquerque, my family had a small poodle who loved to hike in the Sandias. One day he chanced upon a bull. Possessing more cuteness than brains, to our horror he marched right up to the bull and began sniffing it. The bull responded with complete and utter disdain: the dog was clearly below his notice.
Fast forward a few decades. My friend Carlo Fonseka—a diminutive but famous Sri Lankan—applied for a visa to visit the US. He had some Communist friends (gasp) and so his visa process took a considerable amount of time. A friend of his told him, “You should be proud of yourself! Small as you are, you frightened the government of the most powerful country in the world!”
And now here we are, with our Big Bad government bullying the media, institutions, and individuals. People are rightfully afraid. But it helps to remember that authoritarians gain power from fear. As the saying goes, “When we lose our fear, they lose their power.” When we mock them, they lose their ability to intimidate others. That’s why totalitarian governments hate protest and ridicule.
It is hard to stay optimistic in these trying times. It is easy to feel overwhelmed and frightened. But it is important to remember that our fear makes them stronger. This is part of why attending protests is so important. Sure, there’s the immediate gratification of letting out your feelings through yelling. There’s the pleasure of being around other like-minded folk, and admiring the incredible creativity and humor displayed in our signs. But guess what? While our protests won’t change their policies, those authoritarian leaders hate seeing us out there. They hate that we aren’t afraid to show our faces and hold up our signs. They hate when we respond to their bullying with laughter instead of fear. And—so I’m told—when enough of us get out there (3.5% of the population seems to be the magic figure), they crumble.
We’ve seen it play out with the Arab Spring. We saw it recently when students toppled the Bangladeshi prime minister, who had been in power for 15 years. She cracked down hard on protests. A popular photo journalist was jailed for talking about students protesting for safer roads. A journalist was jailed for quoting someone as saying that independence means nothing when people can’t afford food. Many people were thrown into a horrific prison known as the House of Mirrors; many political opponents were executed. But when she cracked down hard on a wave of student protests limited access to government jobs, she went too far. Overreach, as it turns out, is bad policy. The uprisings increased, as did the violent response. In the end, that extreme response was her downfall and she fled to India.
That bull standing in the field, ignoring the little dog: that is strength.
The government afraid to let someone in who might have Communist connections: that is weakness.
A government that tries to crack down on dissent: that is also weakness.
And a government that pushes too hard, that goes too far: that’s a government that cannot last.
So friends, let’s take courage in this moment, let’s enjoy ourselves at rallies, let’s continue to poke fun at the morons in power. Taking issues seriously does not mean losing our ability to laugh; in fact, laughter is one of our greatest strengths. And as we continue to mock the ridiculously over-the-top strong-armed tactics of this government, as we continue to wave our signs and shout at protests, as we continue to call our politicians and demand something better, they grow weaker while we grow stronger.
And that, my friends, is how we win.
