I watched part of a programme tonight on the rise of the
Reich in thirties Germany.
I’d never realised before quite the extent of the power which Hitler’s charisma
exerted on the German people. Women screamed in orgasmic hysteria, young men
straightened their shoulders and gave the salute, old men wept openly. And they
did so by the millions. Even young children were moved by the mood of the
times.
The Dalai Lama has charisma, too, and he has a fair number of
followers scattered around the globe. The women don’t become hysterical,
though, neither do the young men raise their arms in salute. The odd tear might
be shed here and there, but it will be a gentle one.
It seems that if a man of charisma offers a message of peace
and enlightenment, he will gain an enthusiastic but quiet following. If he
offers glory and conquest, a whole nation will bow the knee and vindicate any
amount of depravity committed in his name or at his command.
This, it appears, is the unchanging face of human nature.
2 comments:
I think it also has to do with the types of people doing the following. Germany's pride had just been wounded after all, so the people of course would want to win back some of that. They were also a people used to a high standard of living that had plunged to the depths. That equals desperation, which equals complete passion for any hope they can latch onto.
But there were plenty of Germans, albeit a small minority of the population as a whole, who saw that no amount of desperation justified the depravity of Nazism. And there were plenty of people in Britain at all levels of society, from royalty downwards, who supported Nazi ideals. (My stepfather for one, apparently.) And we weren't desperate, so I still say the whole horrible business was a reflection of human nature.
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