OPINION: Guest writer

OPINION | DOUG SZENHER: Hero worship

What keeps cults in power?

Almost three and a half years after Joseph Stalin's death, Nikita Khrushchev had finally outmaneuvered other contenders to replace the late dictator as head of the Soviet Union.

On Feb. 25, 1956, during the 20th Congress of the USSR's Communist Party, he summoned the delegates back to the meeting hall after the day's regular agenda for an unscheduled session under heavy security--no guests or even Russian journalists allowed--in which he delivered what later became known as "The Secret Speech."

As Benjamin Franklin reportedly wisely observed, "Three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead." Thus, despite explicit orders to all present not to discuss the proceedings, details of Khrushchev's now-famous oration soon leaked outside the inner circle of the Communist Party throughout the USSR.

Ultimately the transcript found its way to Western news outlets, creating something of a sensation at the time.

In the late-night speech, titled "On the Cult of Personality and Its Consequences," Khrushchev shocked his audience by denouncing Stalin, blaming him for most of the ills facing the Soviet Union, particularly condemning his predecessor for the purges, imprisonments, torture, and deaths of Soviet citizens deemed "enemies of the state" by Stalin during his 30-year reign of terror. The phrase "cult of personality" thus gained prominence and became a permanent addition to the lexicon.

No doubt, most of what Khrushchev said was true--probably with some exaggeration--but, with the myriad of problems plaguing the USSR, it also was in his best interests to create a scapegoat and buy time to solidify his position.

Whatever his motivations, it was a remarkable event by Soviet standards.

A possibly apocryphal account (if not true, it's one of those great stories that ought to be true) has it that while Khrushchev was meticulously listing Stalin's sins and their subsequent horrors, someone in the audience--perhaps suddenly emboldened by Khrushchev's own unprecedented breach of Communist protocol--shouted out, "You were a member of the Politburo; why didn't you try to stop him?"

"Who said that?" Khrushchev angrily demanded, looking up from his script, and taking perhaps a minute (no doubt, seeming like an eternity to those present) glaring from one side of the hall to the other.

There was utter silence. No one would even make eye contact with him.

Finally, Khrushchev quietly replied, "Now you know why," resuming his prepared remarks without further interruption.

I believe the modern-day equivalent of this situation is firmly entrenched in what used to be the Republican Party of this country.

It's not just Abraham Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt who would no longer recognize their party; Ronald Reagan, and even Richard Nixon (and Lee Atwater?) would be stunned by what it has become.

The GOP might as well rebrand itself as the Trumpionese Liberation Army, or just the Trumpinistas for short, given the stranglehold Donald Trump maintains over it. The tiny fraction of those still calling themselves Republicans who dare to criticize his actions, or merely hold back from joining his true believers in constant lockstep, are quickly surrounded, isolated, and either convinced to repent of their sins, or punished severely for their heresy.

"Cult of personality" does not come close to characterizing Trump's mesmerizing thrall over his worshipers--nor that of Stalin over his subjects. "Abject fear" probably more accurately describes both relationships--if it's even correct to call either one a "relationship," since all their interactions were and are strictly on a one-way basis.

There is no need to ask why fewer and fewer of today's Republicans are willing to challenge Trump. But if ol' Nicky K. and anyone in his audience on that cold night in Moscow some 65 years ago were still around, they would certainly know the answer to that question ...


Doug Szhenher lives in Little Rock.

Upcoming Events