Examining Timothy Snyder’s “On Tyranny”
Timothy Snyder’s concept of “tyranny” has gained traction as a sort of guide during Trump’s presidency. It presents itself as a collection of 20 rules designed to combat rising authoritarianism. While it aims to be a historical analysis, it also serves as a survival manual drawn from the troubling lessons of the 20th century. The takeaway is straightforward: authoritarianism can erupt from a single election, with Trump seen as a troubling precursor.
Yet, this urgent moral plea, lacking a grounded historical context, risks deteriorating into mere political theater. “On Tyranny” reads more like an impassioned pamphlet than a serious scholarly work, relying on the reader’s emotional reactions more than on an intricate understanding of historical dynamics.
Snyder claims that authoritarian figures have always emerged as populist outsiders rather than established insiders overseeing a gradual democratic decline. However, this flattened historical perspective weakens his argument. He heavily references the horrors of Nazi Germany and Stalinist Russia, implying a direct correlation to Trump’s ascent. Yet, this approach seems more manipulative than analytical, oversimplifying complex populist movements as precursors to violence.
The Role of Democracy
Snyder strongly opposes the emergence of a singular leader claiming to represent the populace, equating the Republican establishment of 2016 to Hitler’s regime. Such analogies not only misrepresent reality but also undermine the legitimate choice of voters who opted for Republican candidates. Interestingly, Snyder didn’t brand Obama as a fascist when he and the Democrats dominated in 2008. Those election results weren’t harbingers of dictatorship; they were expressions of democratic change. Voters made their voices heard in 2008, as well as in 2016 and 2020.
This false equivalence skews toward fear rather than fostering critical engagement, perhaps leading Democrats away from genuine self-reflection and toward alarmism. Snyder’s one-sided narrative dismisses the electoral voices rallied behind Trump.
Citizen Participation
Snyder’s suggestions for civic engagement come across as a secular sermon, encouraging actions like “preserving institutions” and “supporting the media.” On the surface, these sound noble, but they lack a deeper understanding of what civic responsibility entails. What do we truly mean when we’re urged to “protect the truth”? Snyder’s directives often amount to blind loyalty towards established institutions, which have expropriated public trust amidst a tangle of bloated bureaucracies and contradictory expert opinions.
He seems to ignore that institutions can indeed become corrupted from within, and often, those who claim to uphold “truth” can serve as its most significant adversaries. Instead of recognizing these complexities, he offers reduced, simpler forms of resistance aligned with institutional elites.
Questioning the Real Threat
The irony in “On Tyranny” is that the methods Snyder warns against—censorship, moral panic, and political conformity—often originate from the institutions he defends as upholders of democracy. It was not Trump who sought to silence dissenting views on Covid-19 or colluded with social media platforms to suppress non-compliant perspectives. Rather, these actions were taken by the political elite within traditional media and their allies.
Unfortunately for Snyder, tyranny doesn’t just don a “Make America Great Again” hat. Sometimes, it masquerades under terms like “safety,” “science,” or “social justice.” Censorship isn’t just about silencing “dangerous” voices; it can extend to those deemed insufficiently compliant.
If Snyder were genuinely concerned about all forms of authoritarianism, he might have critiqued the progressive impulses aimed at controlling thought and punishing dissent. Instead, his narrative always circles back to the notion of the populist outsider as the primary adversary, overshadowing the nuanced dangers posed by those within the system.
Call for Genuine Courage
Snyder does state a crucial point: democracy doesn’t collapse overnight. It disintegrates gradually—when fear overpowers critical thought, when virtue is commodified, and when citizens offload their moral judgments to bureaucratic institutions and mainstream media.
“On Tyranny” presents an illusion of bravery but lacks real depth. This appears more as performance art than genuine resistance. Protecting freedom requires us to hold accountable the corrupt forces within both government and legacy media. The messages from the electorate in 2020 were loud and clear. If Snyder truly cared about defending democracy, he should attentively listen to them.
