The most useful lesson of growing up under a dictatorship is that dictatorships are never absolute. Sometimes they are even democracies – ones that thrive by co-opting those with proximity to power and managing those who do not benefit. That management is often through brute oppression, but mainly it is through securing consent by convincing enough people that things are about to get really great. Any minute now, once the enemies of the people are thwarted, a corner will be turned. Authoritarian democracies recognise anger, foment it, then bottle it for their own purposes.
The trick is to always have a horizon, distant but in sight, beyond which things will get better. While this happens, the trappings of national success assuage the masses and give a sense of power, prosperity and momentum. In Egypt, as the jails swelled with political prisoners, the military government erected grand pharaonic monuments and embarked on a colossal construction project in the capital. In India, Narendra Modi entrenched authoritarianism while he wooed big business and launched enormous infrastructure projects and Hindu temples. Dictators establish themselves as both great modernisers and stabilisers, promising both conservatism and futurism. They emphasise traditions and values but wrap these up in technology, urbanisation and even a certain aesthetic – clean lines, mirrors, glass and steel skyscrapers.
