The Age of the Strongman: How the Cult of the Leader Threatens Democracy Around the World: Summary & Key Insights

In looking at today’s strongmen, I was struck by how modern they appear—and yet how ancient their instincts are. History offers no shortage of domineering leaders: Mussolini, Hitler, Stalin, Mao. But there is something distinct about our current cohort. Unlike the totalitarian monsters of the twentieth century, the 21st-century strongman often emerges within a formally democratic framework. He wins elections, cultivates mass media, and maintains the veneer of legality. Yet beneath this surface lies the same drive for unchecked personal power.

During the Cold War, ideology shaped authoritarianism—whether communist or fascist. Today, ideology has faded; personality has replaced it. These men build cults not around parties or ideas, but around themselves. They identify the nation with their own identity. This shift marks a profound change. Where past dictatorships mobilized bureaucratic propaganda machines, modern strongmen wield television, social media, and emotional narratives. They speak directly to citizens, exploiting resentment and grievance in a world overwhelmed by information and economic anxiety.

I also situate this rise in a wider global context. The 1990s liberal order, dominated by the United States and characterized by optimism about globalization, fostered disillusionment. Economic inequality widened, communities fractured, and trust in technocratic elites eroded. The strongman enters this vacuum as both savior and avenger. He promises to restore pride, punish enemies, and defend ‘ordinary people’ against the corruption of cosmopolitan elites. What we see, then, is not a return to ideology, but the weaponization of identity in a fragmented age.

Vladimir Putin’s Russia stands as the archetype of modern strongman politics. A former KGB officer, he rose to power in 1999, promising order after the chaos of the Yeltsin years. What began as a campaign of stabilization soon hardened into a regime of control. Putin rebuilt the state by dismantling its checks and balances. Independent media were taken over, critical journalists silenced, and oligarchs brought to heel under the doctrine of ‘sovereign democracy’—a euphemism for rule by fear and nationalism.

Putin’s genius was to fuse authoritarian power with a populist national myth. He projected himself as the defender of a humiliated nation, restoring Russian pride after the fall of the Soviet Union. The annexation of Crimea in 2014 typified this strategy: a bold assertion of power that thrilled his supporters and flouted international law. In the years since, Putin has gone from domestic strongman to global disruptor, challenging Western democracies through cyber interference and hybrid warfare. His invasion of Ukraine in 2022 exposed the full extent of his ambitions: to overturn the post–Cold War order and reassert Russia’s dominance through force.

But Putin’s success also reflects systemic weakness. His regime thrives on fear and cynicism, but it has hollowed out civil society. What I observe in Russia is not strength, but fragility masked by theatrical displays of power. When personal rule replaces institutional legitimacy, the state becomes brittle—a phenomenon repeated across every strongman regime.