Opinion / Columnist
A leader who fears prison will always imprison his opponents!
4 hrs ago | Views
Fear can be a tyrannical leader's downfall!
There is a peculiar irony in how some leaders choose to deal with their political opponents, journalists, and human rights defenders—imprisonment.
Across different regimes and historical periods, authoritarian leaders have used incarceration as a weapon, believing that locking away their critics will neutralize them, silence their voices, and instill fear in the population.
But what if this tactic is not merely about punishing dissenters?
What if it is actually an expression of the leader's own deep-seated fears?
The instinct to imprison opponents is often justified in the name of maintaining stability, law and order, or national security.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
However, the true motive is rarely about enforcing justice.
It is about power—more precisely, the leader's desperate need to control a narrative that is slipping through his fingers.
Fear is a powerful motivator, and those who rule through oppression often assume that everyone else fears the same things they do.
History has a way of repeating itself.
Many of the leaders who today wield incarceration as a tool of repression were once victims of political imprisonment themselves.
They were jailed by the regimes they opposed, spending years behind bars, enduring the brutality of prison life.
That experience often leaves deep psychological scars.
Some emerged from incarceration hardened, but others were deeply traumatized by the ordeal.
And so, when these individuals rise to power, they carry that trauma with them.
Prison is no longer just a place—it becomes a symbol of the worst kind of suffering, something they themselves never wish to experience again.
They know firsthand what it means to be locked away, stripped of dignity, subjected to harsh conditions, deprived of personal agency.
The terror of that experience lingers, and rather than processing it, they weaponize it.
By imprisoning their opponents, they are, in essence, projecting their own fears onto others.
The logic is simple: "If I barely survived that ordeal, then my enemies will be crushed by it."
They assume that because they themselves feared incarceration, their opponents will be similarly terrified.
This is not just a political strategy; it is a deeply personal act of psychological transference.
But there is a fatal flaw in this assumption—what is terrifying for one person is not necessarily terrifying for another.
Some opponents emerge from prison even more defiant, their credibility and influence strengthened rather than diminished.
Leaders who rely on imprisonment as a tool of suppression often fail to recognize that they are, in fact, manufacturing martyrs.
When a leader arrests and imprisons opponents, there is an initial wave of fear.
But something else happens, too—sympathy.
People instinctively side with those they perceive as victims of injustice.
A jailed opposition leader or journalist becomes more than just a person behind bars; they become a symbol of resistance.
Their suffering is not seen as evidence of wrongdoing but as proof of the regime's cruelty.
History is full of examples.
Nelson Mandela's 27 years in prison did not break him—it made him a global icon of resistance against apartheid.
Mahatma Gandhi's numerous arrests only strengthened the movement for Indian independence.
Even in more recent history, leaders who have jailed their critics have found that, rather than silencing them, they have amplified their voices.
By trying to erase their opponents, these leaders end up immortalizing them.
The imprisoned leader's words, ideas, and struggle do not disappear; they spread even further.
The government's attempt to isolate them paradoxically turns them into symbols of freedom and defiance.
But why do these leaders fail to see this?
Why do they keep making the same mistake, over and over again, believing that imprisoning their enemies will eliminate them?
The answer lies in the psychology of fear and control.
Authoritarian leaders tend to have a deep need for control.
They thrive on the illusion that they can dictate reality—that through force, coercion, and fear, they can suppress any opposition and secure their power indefinitely.
They are not just afraid of losing power; they are terrified of what losing power represents.
For many, ruling is not just a political ambition but a personal identity.
To lose power is to lose everything—their prestige, their wealth, their ability to shape the world around them.
And in some cases, losing power means facing the very same fate they inflicted on others.
The thought of being imprisoned themselves is unbearable.
They saw what happened to the leaders who came before them, and they are haunted by the possibility that they too could end up behind bars.
This is why their repression often becomes more extreme over time.
The more they feel threatened, the harsher they become.
They believe that by imprisoning opponents, they are demonstrating strength.
But in reality, they are revealing weakness.
A truly secure leader does not fear criticism.
A leader who is confident in his legitimacy does not need to jail his rivals.
There is another irony in all of this—despite their efforts, these leaders almost always fail.
Repression may work temporarily, but it never lasts.
History has repeatedly shown that regimes built on fear and suppression eventually crumble.
The more brutal and desperate a leader becomes, the more resistance they generate.
When a leader imprisons opponents, they are not eliminating the problem; they are merely postponing it.
Eventually, the weight of their repression catches up with them.
The oppressed do not forget.
The people do not remain silent forever.
The international community takes notice.
And when the inevitable fall comes, the same leaders who once wielded prison as a weapon often find themselves on the other side of the bars.
At its core, the obsession with imprisoning opponents is not a sign of strength—it is a manifestation of deep-seated fear.
The leader who relies on repression is, in reality, the one who is most afraid.
He fears his opponents, he fears losing power, and above all, he fears prison itself.
But what these leaders fail to understand is that fear is not a sustainable foundation for rule.
No matter how many opponents they jail, no matter how much they try to suppress dissent, the truth has a way of emerging.
And in the end, it is not the prisoners who are truly trapped—it is the leaders themselves, imprisoned by their paranoia, their insecurities, and the inevitable fate they fear the most.
● Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to WhatsApp or Call: +263715667700 | +263782283975, or email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com, or visit website: https://mbofana.tendairuben.news.blog/
There is a peculiar irony in how some leaders choose to deal with their political opponents, journalists, and human rights defenders—imprisonment.
Across different regimes and historical periods, authoritarian leaders have used incarceration as a weapon, believing that locking away their critics will neutralize them, silence their voices, and instill fear in the population.
But what if this tactic is not merely about punishing dissenters?
What if it is actually an expression of the leader's own deep-seated fears?
The instinct to imprison opponents is often justified in the name of maintaining stability, law and order, or national security.
To directly receive articles from Tendai Ruben Mbofana, please join his WhatsApp Channel on: https://whatsapp.com/channel/0029VaqprWCIyPtRnKpkHe08
However, the true motive is rarely about enforcing justice.
It is about power—more precisely, the leader's desperate need to control a narrative that is slipping through his fingers.
Fear is a powerful motivator, and those who rule through oppression often assume that everyone else fears the same things they do.
History has a way of repeating itself.
Many of the leaders who today wield incarceration as a tool of repression were once victims of political imprisonment themselves.
They were jailed by the regimes they opposed, spending years behind bars, enduring the brutality of prison life.
That experience often leaves deep psychological scars.
Some emerged from incarceration hardened, but others were deeply traumatized by the ordeal.
And so, when these individuals rise to power, they carry that trauma with them.
Prison is no longer just a place—it becomes a symbol of the worst kind of suffering, something they themselves never wish to experience again.
They know firsthand what it means to be locked away, stripped of dignity, subjected to harsh conditions, deprived of personal agency.
The terror of that experience lingers, and rather than processing it, they weaponize it.
By imprisoning their opponents, they are, in essence, projecting their own fears onto others.
The logic is simple: "If I barely survived that ordeal, then my enemies will be crushed by it."
They assume that because they themselves feared incarceration, their opponents will be similarly terrified.
This is not just a political strategy; it is a deeply personal act of psychological transference.
But there is a fatal flaw in this assumption—what is terrifying for one person is not necessarily terrifying for another.
Some opponents emerge from prison even more defiant, their credibility and influence strengthened rather than diminished.
Leaders who rely on imprisonment as a tool of suppression often fail to recognize that they are, in fact, manufacturing martyrs.
When a leader arrests and imprisons opponents, there is an initial wave of fear.
But something else happens, too—sympathy.
People instinctively side with those they perceive as victims of injustice.
A jailed opposition leader or journalist becomes more than just a person behind bars; they become a symbol of resistance.
Their suffering is not seen as evidence of wrongdoing but as proof of the regime's cruelty.
History is full of examples.
Nelson Mandela's 27 years in prison did not break him—it made him a global icon of resistance against apartheid.
Mahatma Gandhi's numerous arrests only strengthened the movement for Indian independence.
Even in more recent history, leaders who have jailed their critics have found that, rather than silencing them, they have amplified their voices.
By trying to erase their opponents, these leaders end up immortalizing them.
The government's attempt to isolate them paradoxically turns them into symbols of freedom and defiance.
But why do these leaders fail to see this?
Why do they keep making the same mistake, over and over again, believing that imprisoning their enemies will eliminate them?
The answer lies in the psychology of fear and control.
Authoritarian leaders tend to have a deep need for control.
They thrive on the illusion that they can dictate reality—that through force, coercion, and fear, they can suppress any opposition and secure their power indefinitely.
They are not just afraid of losing power; they are terrified of what losing power represents.
For many, ruling is not just a political ambition but a personal identity.
To lose power is to lose everything—their prestige, their wealth, their ability to shape the world around them.
And in some cases, losing power means facing the very same fate they inflicted on others.
The thought of being imprisoned themselves is unbearable.
They saw what happened to the leaders who came before them, and they are haunted by the possibility that they too could end up behind bars.
This is why their repression often becomes more extreme over time.
The more they feel threatened, the harsher they become.
They believe that by imprisoning opponents, they are demonstrating strength.
But in reality, they are revealing weakness.
A truly secure leader does not fear criticism.
A leader who is confident in his legitimacy does not need to jail his rivals.
There is another irony in all of this—despite their efforts, these leaders almost always fail.
Repression may work temporarily, but it never lasts.
History has repeatedly shown that regimes built on fear and suppression eventually crumble.
The more brutal and desperate a leader becomes, the more resistance they generate.
When a leader imprisons opponents, they are not eliminating the problem; they are merely postponing it.
Eventually, the weight of their repression catches up with them.
The oppressed do not forget.
The people do not remain silent forever.
The international community takes notice.
And when the inevitable fall comes, the same leaders who once wielded prison as a weapon often find themselves on the other side of the bars.
At its core, the obsession with imprisoning opponents is not a sign of strength—it is a manifestation of deep-seated fear.
The leader who relies on repression is, in reality, the one who is most afraid.
He fears his opponents, he fears losing power, and above all, he fears prison itself.
But what these leaders fail to understand is that fear is not a sustainable foundation for rule.
No matter how many opponents they jail, no matter how much they try to suppress dissent, the truth has a way of emerging.
And in the end, it is not the prisoners who are truly trapped—it is the leaders themselves, imprisoned by their paranoia, their insecurities, and the inevitable fate they fear the most.
● Tendai Ruben Mbofana is a social justice advocate and writer. Please feel free to WhatsApp or Call: +263715667700 | +263782283975, or email: mbofana.tendairuben73@gmail.com, or visit website: https://mbofana.tendairuben.news.blog/
Source - Tendai Ruben Mbofana
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