When I searched for the origin of the phrase “absolute power corrupts absolutely,” I came across an interesting phenomenon—on the first page of results, most were… links to articles about Gaddafi. This seemed to me a noteworthy circumstance, enough to warrant this very column.
Lord Acton, who uttered—or rather, wrote in 1887—“power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” had Napoleon and various Roman emperors in mind. The thought, as one can easily deduce from the meaning of the word “corrupt,” is that political power is evil. And the more of it there is, the greater the evil. In our neck of the woods, as the Gaddafi example clearly shows, this is understood quite differently. “Absolute power corrupts” here means running red lights, carousing with girls, bears, and gypsies, and pocketing taxpayers’ money. Eccentric dictators like Gaddafi, or characters like our “Donetsk guys”—that’s the audience to whom the saying about “absolute power” is addressed. But here’s what’s interesting. If these people hadn’t kept harems, hadn’t lived in tents, and hadn’t run over pedestrians at bus stops and crosswalks, no one among us would have thought to quote the British lord. I haven’t come across examples of post-Soviet authors applying the phrase about absolute power to Napoleon or, say, Hitler. Both Hitler and Napoleon are, for post-Soviet citizens, tough guys, firmly standing on the ground. Their absolute power didn’t corrupt them at all—after all, they didn’t run naked through the streets. That they started world wars—well, such is life. This is “the struggle for resources” and, in general, a perfectly normal and approved state of affairs. They just got unlucky and ended up on the wrong side of the fight, but otherwise everything was fine. All of this will be quickly and clearly explained to you on any forum.
It seems to me that this seemingly insignificant difference is more than fundamental. It illustrates how “we” differ from “them” when it comes to politics, economics, “standard of living,” and the answer to the question “why do we live so poorly and why does nothing work out for us.”
You can find many examples of statements by “great” and not-so-great figures regarding the threat that absolute power and power as such poses. For example, a hundred years before Acton, William Pitt the Elder said roughly the same thing: “unlimited power is apt to corrupt the minds of those who possess it.” But the best illustrations come from culture—not the works of self-absorbed snobs writing for literary prize committees, but “popular” or “mass” culture, that is, a living social phenomenon. Take such hits as The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and Star Wars. Each contains the theme of absolute power. With The Lord of the Rings it’s simplest—absolute power is embodied by the ring known to everyone, and the only acceptable solution turns out to be its destruction. In Harry Potter, Voldemort seeks absolute power in order to defeat death. In Star Wars, the elder Skywalker turns to the dark side because only it gives him the power to stop the death of his beloved. Everywhere, things end badly for everyone who flirts with absolute power or is even simply connected with it, since power from the very beginning tends to corrupt. Frodo doesn’t hold out and at the last moment falls under the power of the ring. Voldemort and Darth Vader die, having killed along the way a mass of innocent people. And these are only the hits. The idea of the mortal threat that power carries, you will find in Western culture in the most unexpected places. And this means that it is present in the everyday life of ordinary people.
In our pre-Soviet and post-Soviet culture, however, you will find nothing similar. Among us, the ring of power would have been given to Boromir. After all, it is Gondor that bears the main burden of the war with Sauron, so the ring would be just right for him. Anakin Skywalker’s action would not have caused disapproval—after all, he was saving his beloved woman. And Voldemort would have received a government grant for horcrux development. It’s no big deal that innocent people have to be killed for them—after all, “we” will defeat death. Dumbledore’s phrase: “there are things worse than death,” I think, is simply beyond the understanding of most. It looks like some fastidiousness, the conceitedness of a smug sage. And we need to stand firmly on the ground and get things done. Among us, Ukraine is perishing. And besides, this is the struggle for resources and world leadership, and we cannot stand aside when…
I think this is the whole point. The Anglo-Saxons have a cultural inoculation that still works. Power is evil, regardless of the goals it pursues. This is precisely why there was no totalitarianism among the Anglo-Saxons. We had totalitarianism (and, possibly, will have it again) largely because there is no such inoculation. Absolute power for us is an extremely desirable state for “bringing order.” Well, and “corrupts” only in the sense that some people start living in tents and running naked through the streets. But this can be forgiven for the sake of such a cause, right?