Last week the political wing of the Muslim Brotherhood, the world’s oldest and largest Islamist organization, a group that has been banned, off and on in Egypt since 1948, won 47 percent of seats in the lower house of parliament.

Which leads me to ponder a question that has always intrigued me: how does a political party, or an individual for that matter, make the transition in identity (and action) from a radical activist position, outside the mainstream, to the head of government?

Major political transitions are seldom considered to be psychological as well as political events, but how could they not be? The citizens of the former east bloc countries didn’t just wake up one morning with a democratic understanding, attitude and behavior. Growing up in a totalitarian regime results in a state of mind, a set of behaviors that doesn’t shift when government does. Being a member of a banned, radical extremist group to suddenly being the party in the seat of power is a profound shift in identity. Looking at history, the track record for making this transition is not good. Many radical parties entered through revolution and proceeded to jail, torture, ‘re-educate’ or assassinate opponents.

It takes people years to grow into their sense of power, to grow from a young adult dependent on others to being the one responsible for others. Companies grapple with this all the time. Someone is promoted from front line or factory floor into a management position but doesn’t or can’t fill those leadership shoes: they see their new staff still as colleagues, and react competitively with the people they are meant to develop. And this is true everywhere, not just in the business world: parents struggle with this, often failing to recognize their higher rank and resorting to yelling, screaming, even violence when provoked by their children. Teachers who feel insecure or who need their egos stroked are every student’s nightmare. (more…)

I came across this amazing (at least I think so) quote by Richard Rorty. Warning: it’s long, dense, somewhat inflammatory, and it has a rather “insider-ish” tone. He’s talking to his colleagues in academia. His self-awareness of power strikes me. He turns his own analysis of power onto himself and his colleagues to look at the biases of his role and profession. It’s a great example for all of us in power. It’s easy to fall prey to patronizing uses of power because you believe in your own cause so strongly.

It seems to me that the regulative idea that we heirs of the Enlightenment, we Socratists, most frequently use to criticize the conduct of various conversational partners is that of needing education in order to outgrow their primitive fear, hatreds, and superstitions… It is a concept which I, like most Americans who teach humanities or social science in colleges and universities, invoke when we try to arrange things so that students who enter as bigoted, homophobic, religious fundamentalists will leave college with views more like our own … The fundamentalist parents of our fundamentalist students think that the entire American liberal establishment is engaged in a conspiracy. The parents have a point. Their point is that we liberal teachers no more feel in a symmetrical communication situation when we talk with bigots than do kindergarten teachers talking with their students … When we American college teachers encounter religious fundamentalists, we do not consider the possibility of reformulating our own practices of justification so as to give more weight to the authority of the Christian scriptures. Instead, we do our best to convince these students of the benefits of secularization. We assign first-person accounts of growing up homosexual to our homophobic students for the same reasons that German schoolteachers in the postwar period assigned The Diary of Anne Frank… You have to be educated in order to be … a participant in our conversation … So we are going to go right on trying to discredit you in the eyes of your children, trying to strip your fundamentalist religious community of dignity, trying to make your views seem silly rather than discussable. We are not so inclusivist as to tolerate intolerance such as yours … I don’t see anything herrschaftsfrei [domination free] about my handling of my fundamentalist students. Rather, I think those students are lucky to find themselves under the benevolent Herrschaft [domination] of people like me, and to have escaped the grip of their frightening, vicious, dangerous parents … I am just as provincial and contextualist as the Nazi teachers who made their students read Der Stuermer; the only difference is that I serve a better cause.

Universality and Truth, in Robert B. Brandom (ed.), Rorty and his Critics (Oxford: Blackwell, 2000), pp. 21-2.

I’m getting clearer on what this blog is about. I have started to call it, to myself at least, Learning and Leading. While leadership and power is a main focus, looking over the posts, I see that a great deal of what I write about involves the problems of learning to lead. And that reminds me of Jerry Maguire.

I love the movie Jerry Maguire, (yes, the one with the memorable one-liners like “show me the money,” or “you had me at hello”) because Jerry Maguire captures so perfectly the jet lag between knowing something and living it. One of the greatest and most frustrating psychological puzzles has to do with the difference between our espoused beliefs and our actual behavior. I’m not just talking about hypocrisy but about knowing. Just because we can think something, or even deeply believe something, doesn’t mean we know what it means as a way of being, as a day-to-day behavior. We have to learn by living it. (more…)

You have to be loyal to a dream country rather than to the one to which you wake up every morning. Unless such loyalty exists, the ideal has no chance of becoming actual. — Richard Rorty

â??Loyalty to a dream countryâ?? is the idealism necessary to fully achieve democracy, and yet that loyalty to a dream country is also the ideological fervor behind fascism and nationalism. Unless we live in a world of strict realpolitik, we are destined to tread that fine line between the secular and religious in politics. There is and always has been a transcendent core to politics, the need to feel a part of something larger, and to merge with others in unity of purpose. This drive is part and parcel of the human experience, and wonâ??t go away, no matter how much we secularize our schools, government, and politics. (more…)