CHARLES MATSEKE | The psychology of power: Trump's ultimatum and the authoritarian logic

On Wednesday, 8 April, the world confronts more than a geopolitical crisis; it confronts a psychological one. Donald Trump’s ultimatum to Iran, demanding the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz under threat of destroying bridges and power plants, should not be read merely as strategic posturing.

It is an expression of a deeper and more troubling phenomenon: the re-emergence of authoritarian psychology within democratic power.

The language itself is revealing. Declaring a day of destruction, “power plant day and bridge day,” is not conventional diplomacy. It is theatrical, punitive and symbolic.

It reflects a personalised conception of power in which the leader is not bound by institutional restraint but instead performs dominance through spectacle. This is a hallmark of what political psychologists identify as authoritarian or quasi-dictatorial leadership: the fusion of personal ego with state power.

At the core of this psychology lies a constellation of traits- narcissism, paranoia and a diminished capacity for empathy. Narcissism manifests in the need for dominance, recognition, and submission. Paranoia constructs a world of enemies and threats, often exaggerated or imagined.

Together, they produce a leadership style that is reactive, coercive and prone to escalation. Within this framework, Iran is not simply a geopolitical actor but an adversary whose defiance must be crushed to reaffirm authority.

Yet authoritarian psychology does not operate in isolation. It requires an enabling environment, an audience willing or conditioned to accept its logic. Here, the dynamics of transference and projection become crucial.

Leaders externalise internal anxieties onto an “enemy,” while populations internalise these narratives, often in moments of uncertainty. The result is a feedback loop in which aggression is normalised and dissent is marginalised.

This helps explain why threats that would once have provoked widespread outrage are now met with relative silence. The normalisation of extreme rhetoric is itself a psychological process. When boundaries are repeatedly pushed, what was once unthinkable becomes thinkable, then permissible and eventually routine.

Recent developments reinforce this trajectory.

Reports from the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights and the World Health Organization indicate that US and Israeli strikes have targeted critical civilian infrastructure in Iran, including bridges, healthcare facilities, and research institutions. These are not merely strategic targets; they are the lifelines of civilian society. Their destruction signals a shift from conventional warfare to collective punishment. A strategy historically associated with authoritarian regimes.

To understand this shift, it is useful to revisit the psychology of dictatorship more broadly. Dictators often govern through what might be termed performative domination.

Power is not only exercised; it is displayed. Acts of destruction, threats of overwhelming force and the public humiliation of adversaries serve to reinforce the leader’s image of invincibility. In this sense, the targeting of infrastructure is not only militarily strategic but psychologically symbolic. It demonstrates the capacity to disrupt and control the very foundations of everyday life.

This dynamic resonates with a longer tradition of imperial power. Thomas Sankara once argued that imperialism operates through destruction and exploitation wherever necessary to maintain dominance.

While the contemporary context differs, the underlying logic persists: power is asserted not only through control of territory but through the capacity to impose vulnerability on others.

The current moment also reflects what Rahm Emanuel famously described as the refusal to “let a good crisis go to waste.” Crises, particularly those framed as existential threats, create conditions in which extraordinary measures can be justified.

They allow leaders to bypass institutional constraints, consolidate authority and redefine the boundaries of acceptable action. In psychological terms, crisis amplifies fear, and fear, in turn, increases the public’s tolerance for authoritarian behaviour.

The Abraham Accords form part of this broader context. While presented as a framework for peace, they have also contributed to a regional realignment that isolates Iran and legitimises more aggressive postures against it. This isolation is not merely geopolitical; it is psychological.

By constructing Iran as an outlier, a deviant actor, it becomes easier to justify actions that would otherwise be seen as disproportionate or unlawful.

What is particularly concerning is how these dynamics intersect with the institutional structure of a democratic state. Unlike classical dictatorships, where power is overtly centralised, contemporary authoritarian tendencies often operate within formally democratic systems.

They exploit institutional weaknesses, polarisation, and the erosion of norms. In this sense, the danger is not only the actions themselves but the precedent they set. When a democratic leader adopts the language and tactics of authoritarianism, it blurs the distinction between democracy and dictatorship.

The consequences are far-reaching. The destruction of infrastructure in Iran including bridges, hospitals, research centres will not only cause immediate human suffering but will also undermine the long-term resilience of society.

It disrupts mobility, healthcare and knowledge production, creating conditions of prolonged vulnerability. These are precisely the kinds of effects that authoritarian strategies seek to produce: a weakened, destabilised population that is easier to control or coerce.

At a deeper level, however, the issue is one of norms and values. International humanitarian law exists to place limits on the conduct of war, to protect civilians and to preserve a minimum standard of humanity. When these limits are openly challenged, and when such challenges are met with insufficient resistance, the entire normative framework is at risk.

The psychology of dictatorship teaches us that authoritarianism does not emerge overnight. It evolves gradually, through the normalisation of extreme behaviour, the erosion of constraints, and the manipulation of fear. It thrives in moments of crisis, when the demand for security can overshadow the commitment to principle.

Trump’s ultimatum is therefore more than a policy statement; it is a signal. It signals a shift towards a mode of leadership in which power is personalised, constraints are dismissed, and violence is framed as a legitimate tool of governance. Whether this signal is challenged or accepted will shape not only the trajectory of the current crisis but the future of international relations itself.

If the world fails to respond, if it accepts the logic of “power plant day and bridge day” as just another episode in the theatre of geopolitics, then it risks crossing a threshold from which it may be difficult to return.