How Can I Remain in Power?
A Satirical Monologue on the Addiction to Power
Let us conduct a thought experiment.
Forget morality.
Forget the Constitution.
Forget the people.
Forget the nation.
Suppose my only ambition is this:
I must remain in power.
Nothing else matters.
Not justice.
Not prosperity.
Not truth.
Not even the future of the country.
If the nation flourishes, that is acceptable.
If the nation declines, that is also acceptable.
There is only one non-negotiable condition:
I must continue to rule.
Every morning, I wake up and ask myself only one question.
"What can I do today to remain in power?"
Notice what I do not ask.
I do not ask,
"How can I improve education?"
"How can I create jobs?"
"How can I reduce corruption?"
"How can I strengthen institutions?"
Those questions belong to a statesman.
My question is different.
"How can I make sure people never remove me, even if they want to?"
The moment this question replaces service, politics begins to decay.
Step One: Never Let People Think About the Right Problems
People can demand accountability.
Or they can chase distractions.
They rarely do both at the same time.
If citizens spend their evenings discussing unemployment, inflation, healthcare, education, corruption, institutional decline, and the quality of governance, I am in danger.
So I ask myself,
"How do I stop them from asking the real questions?"
Perhaps I don't need to answer them.
Perhaps I only need to redirect them.
If the public spends six months debating a symbolic controversy, they have already lost six months discussing the country's deeper problems.
A distracted nation is far easier to govern than an informed one.
Step Two: Let Them Win the Wrong Battle
Suppose public anger is growing.
A protest begins.
Its demand is loud but narrow—perhaps the resignation of a minister.
The minister is not the source of the country's real problems.
But that is irrelevant.
The entire nation now discusses only one demand.
Television debates it.
Social media debates it.
Families debate it.
The country's biggest questions quietly disappear.
I wait.
I remain silent.
I allow emotions to rise.
Eventually, I make a concession.
The minister resigns.
Celebrations erupt.
People declare victory.
News channels call it a triumph.
Yet nothing fundamental has changed.
The roots remain.
Only one branch has been cut.
The protesters return home.
Life demands their attention again.
They must earn a living.
Feed their families.
Return to work.
The movement loses momentum.
The nation feels it has achieved something.
I know I have achieved something too.
Time.
And for a ruler addicted to power, time is the greatest victory.
Step Three: Let Emotion Replace Reason
Facts are slow.
Emotion is immediate.
Fear.
Anger.
Pride.
Identity.
Humiliation.
Hope.
These move people faster than evidence.
The more emotional public debate becomes, the less space remains for patient reasoning.
People stop asking,
"Is this policy working?"
Instead they ask,
"Which side am I on?"
When identity replaces inquiry, accountability becomes much harder.
That is why citizens must guard their ability to think independently.
Step Four: Make Every Headline About Me
Soon, I want every conversation to begin and end with my name.
Every achievement becomes my achievement.
Every criticism becomes an attack on me.
Every election becomes a referendum on my personality.
Gradually, institutions fade into the background.
Politics becomes theatre.
Government becomes performance.
The nation slowly forgets that democracies are designed to be governed by institutions—not by individuals.
What About the Opposition?
Perhaps the opposition understands what is happening.
Perhaps it recognizes that the loudest controversy is not the country's biggest problem.
It refuses to abandon long-term issues for the latest spectacle.
Many citizens may misunderstand that decision.
Some conclude that the opposition is absent simply because it is not participating in the most visible political drama.
This is why citizens should always ask themselves:
"Is this controversy solving the country's deepest problems, or is it merely occupying my attention?"
That single question can distinguish genuine accountability from political theatre.
The Greatest Victory Is Not Electoral
The greatest victory is not winning an election.
It is shaping what the public thinks about every day.
If citizens stop measuring governments by education, healthcare, justice, employment, institutional integrity, and economic opportunity, then elections alone cannot protect democracy.
Democracy survives only when citizens remain curious enough to ask difficult questions and disciplined enough to distinguish between symbolic victories and meaningful progress.
The Final Question
This essay is not really about a ruler.
It is about every citizen.
Whenever you hear a politician speak, ask yourself two questions.
What problem is being discussed?
And equally important,
What problem is not being discussed?
Because sometimes the greatest political trick is not convincing people to believe a lie.
It is convincing them to spend all their energy fighting over something that was never the nation's biggest problem.
The day citizens stop asking difficult questions, power no longer needs to silence them.
They silence themselves.
And that is when democracy is at its greatest risk.