Zelensky IS a Dictator!

Trump says Zelensky is a dictator. For once, he’s not entirely wrong - just entirely self-serving. When Trump calls someone a dictator, he doesn’t mean they’ve centralised power, suppressed opposition, or muzzled the press. If that were the criteria, he’d be singing Zelensky’s praises. No, in Trump’s world, "dictator" just means "a man who refused to bend the knee." Zelensky didn’t play ball when Trump tried to blackmail him for dirt on Biden, so now he’s on the enemies list.

But strip away Trump’s nonsense, and there’s a real discussion to be had. Zelensky has, in fact, taken on the role of a dictator - but not in the modern despot sense. His model is the old Roman Republic, where in times of crisis, a single man was given total control to steer the state through danger. The expectation wasn’t tyranny - it was duty. Cincinnatus was the ideal: a man who took absolute power, saved Rome, then walked away when the job was done. That’s the kind of dictatorship Ukraine is running - emergency rule in response to an existential threat.  The image above is a statue of Cincinnatus handing the fasces, the symbol of his absolute authority, back to the Senate.

Zelensky hasn’t banned elections because he enjoys absolute rule. He’s done it because holding a nationwide vote while fighting for survival is logistically impossible. He’s shut down some opposition because certain parties were actively working against Ukraine’s war effort. Even the control of media isn’t the move of a would-be tyrant, but of a leader ensuring his country speaks with one voice while facing an enemy intent on wiping it from the map. These aren’t the actions of a Putin or a Stalin. They’re the actions of a man trying to hold things together long enough to have a country left to rebuild.

The test of a true Roman-style dictator isn’t how they take power, but how they give it up. If Zelensky steps aside, restores elections, and relinquishes the extraordinary powers he’s taken, he won’t be remembered as a tyrant. He’ll be remembered as a leader who did what was necessary, then stood down, just as Cincinnatus did. But history is full of leaders who started as reluctant strongmen and became permanent rulers. Ukraine’s future depends on Zelenskyy knowing when to walk away.

Meanwhile, the very people accusing him of dictatorship are busy setting up their own strongman regime. Trump doesn’t admire the Cincinnatus model. He admires the Sulla and Caesar model - the kind that doesn’t step down. He isn’t looking for emergency powers to fix a crisis. He wants absolute control because he believes the world owes it to him. And now that he’s back in office, that’s exactly what he has.

Every government official is now handpicked for personal loyalty. Not competence, not experience - just blind obedience. His administration is filled with people who exist solely to do what he says. This isn’t about democracy anymore. It’s about raw, unchecked power. Zelensky may have postponed elections out of wartime necessity, but Trump has no such excuse.

That’s where J.D. Vance comes in - the man who once warned that Trump was America’s Hitler, now on all fours, barking at his master’s enemies. First, he sneered. Then he grovelled. Now, he lunges on command. But let’s not be fooled. Trump doesn’t trust him. Trump doesn’t trust anyone who wasn’t on their knees from the start. Vance is tolerated, not because he’s respected, but because he’s useful.

And Vance, in his delusions, may well see himself as Trump’s heir. He might imagine that, after serving loyally, he’ll be the chosen one when the time comes. But Trump doesn’t groom successors. He won’t pass the torch to a lackey - he despises lackeys, even as he surrounds himself with them. They are tools, not partners. And if Trump has his way, there won’t be a successor at all. Why hand over power when he could simply rewrite the rules, change the constitution, and remain in office for life?

Vance thinks he’s positioning himself to take the throne, but he’s just another disposable pawn. The moment he starts looking too ambitious or simply no longer useful, he’ll get the same treatment as all the others.

That’s the thing about regimes built on fear - they devour their own. The moment loyalty wavers, even slightly, the knives come out. It’s no different in the Kremlin, where survival is measured not in years of service, but in how long one can avoid the nearest open window.

It’s a curious thing, isn’t it? Russian officials - particularly those in the military and intelligence services - seem to have an inexplicable tendency to fall from ground floor windows and die. Perhaps it’s a genetic predisposition to vertigo, or maybe there’s something in the Kremlin’s tea that induces a sudden desire to test the effects of gravity. Either way, it’s a tragic epidemic that should probably be studied - assuming, of course, that the researchers don’t develop an unfortunate case of ‘sudden heart failure’ before they can publish their findings.

Dictatorships have a natural predator - their own security apparatus. The men with guns and intelligence files are the only ones who can realistically remove a strongman, so the trick is to keep them too paranoid, too divided, and too terrified to ever think about it. Stalin knew this and periodically thinned the herd, purging officers, ministers, and intelligence chiefs on the off chance they might be getting ideas above their station. Putin, never one to pass up a history lesson, is simply following suit - though with a touch more subtlety.

And here’s the thing - Trump is heading down the same path. Surround yourself with bootlickers, and you will only ever hear what you want to hear. Make loyalty the only qualification for power, and you will only ever be served by cowards. And the moment things start going wrong - really wrong - those cowards won’t save you. They’ll save themselves. Trump, like Putin, believes absolute control makes him untouchable. But all it does is make his eventual downfall inevitable