open polity

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  • When Obedience Becomes a Weapon: How Regimes Make Repression Feel Normal 

    When Obedience Becomes a Weapon: How Regimes Make Repression Feel Normal 

    Written by Fatmah Alotaibi 

    In December 2024, one of the longest-standing authoritarian regimes in the modern world collapsed. The  Assad dynasty had ruled Syria for over fifty years. It fell in a matter of days. State television, which for decades had broadcast loyalty rituals, presidential speeches, and celebrations of military “victories over terrorism,” abruptly changed its tone. The same outlet that had framed peaceful protesters as foreign agents and state violence as patriotic duty was suddenly raising the Free Syria flag. 

    The shift happened almost overnight. Which raises an uncomfortable question: if so many people had not truly believed, why had it held for so long? 

    What Syria revealed was not that its people had believed the propaganda. Many had not. What it revealed is that you do not need people to believe. You just need them to comply. 

    This is the central insight that political theorist Hannah Arendt captured in her concept of the “banality of  evil.” Evil, she argued, is not always the product of monsters. It is often carried out by ordinary people who follow orders, perform their roles, and stop asking questions. The danger is not the true believers. It is the quiet majority who normalise what is happening around them simply by going along with it. 

    Authoritarian regimes understand this better than anyone. 

    The playbook is consistent across contexts. First, language is weaponised. Protesters become terrorists. Dissent becomes betrayal. Violence becomes defence. Once the vocabulary shifts, the moral framework shifts with it. It becomes possible to justify almost anything if it is framed as protecting the nation,  defending the homeland, or fighting an existential threat. 

    Second, emotions are mobilised. Fear, pride, and outrage are not incidental to authoritarian propaganda;  they are its engine. State funerals become loyalty performances. Elections become displays of unity.  Religious ceremonies become endorsements of state violence. These rituals are not designed to persuade.  They are designed to make a particular emotional and moral reality feel inevitable, to shrink the space in which doubt is even possible. 

    Third, and most insidiously, repetition does the work that force alone cannot. When the same narrative is broadcast continuously that protesters are criminals, that the state is protecting you, that there is no legitimate alternative, it does not need to be believed. It just needs to be present. It fills the air until it becomes the background against which all other information is assessed. 

    Look at the world right now, and the pattern is not hard to find. When Supreme Leader Khamenei was killed in February 2026, months after the 12-day US-Israeli war on Iran that began in June 2025, Iranian state media did not present a system in crisis. It presented a system proving its strength. The Tehran Times  ran the headline “Trump is gone, Khamenei remains.” Hardline outlets Kayhan and Tasnim framed the succession of Mojtaba Khamenei not as a rushed, pressure-filled process, in which the IRGC reportedly pressured Assembly of Experts members to vote quickly, but as a demonstration of the Islamic Republic’s resilience.

    Front pages were dominated by pledges of allegiance from military commanders, clerics, and political figures. Wartime posters merged the faces of Khomeini, Ali Khamenei, and Mojtaba, projecting an unbroken line of divine authority. The new supreme leader’s first statement was read aloud by a state television anchor over a still photograph, with no video or audio of the new leader himself released. In it,  Khamenei called the conflict an act of aggression by external enemies and demanded “effective and  regret-inducing defence.” Analysts noted that focusing on armed resistance allowed the new leadership to avoid discussing the economic hardships and domestic unrest, including violent protests in December and January that had divided Iranian society long before the strikes began. 

    Meanwhile, Iran was firing hundreds of missiles and drones at Gulf states, striking civilian infrastructure,  residential areas, and energy facilities. Qatar’s foreign ministry called it a crossing of all red lines. Yet none of this appeared in Iranian state media as aggression. It was resistance. It was a duty. The mechanism is the same one that sustained Assad for fifty years: attach moral language to power, keep the population looking outward at enemies, and those carrying out the violence never have to question it. They are simply doing their duty. 

    What is striking is how little this depends on outright lying. The most effective propaganda does not fabricate reality wholesale. It selects, frames, and repeats. It decides what is shown and what is not. It determines which deaths are mourned and which are invisible. Over time, what is omitted becomes unthinkable, and what is repeated becomes common sense. 

    That is both reassuring and alarming. Reassuring because manufactured consent is more fragile than it looks, as Syria showed, it can collapse quickly once the coercive structure behind it falls. Alarming because it means we can live inside systems of repression for a very long time without fully registering what is happening, precisely because those systems are designed to make repression feel normal. 

    The question worth asking, not just about Syria or Tehran or the waters of the Gulf, but about any political environment, is a simple one: what are we accepting as normal that we have not actually chosen to accept? 

    Propaganda works best when nobody calls it propaganda, when violence is a duty, when silence is loyalty and when obedience has become so routine that it no longer feels like a choice. 

    That is the moment to start paying attention. 

    Sources 

    Arendt, H., 1964. Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil. London: Faber & Faber. 

    BBC News. ‘All red lines have been crossed’: Gulf states weigh response to Iranian strikes. Available at:  https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cjrqqd8lw2wo 

    Al Jazeera. Iran’s Mojtaba Khamenei vows to fight in first statement as supreme leader. Available at:  https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2026/3/12/irans-mojtaba-khamenei-issues-first-statement-as-supreme leader-amid-war Iran International. After first message, Iranian media cast Khamenei Jr as wartime leader. Available at:  https://www.iranintl.com/en/202603125397

  • Opinion: Vinícius Júnior And The Fight Against Racism In Football

    Opinion: Vinícius Júnior And The Fight Against Racism In Football

    There is and never will be any justification for racist abuse towards black people in society. Often dubbed the beautiful game, football brings millions of people together in celebration of a shared love. Yet its beauty has always existed alongside something deeply uncomfortable. Like most things, football is a microcosm of society; even the beautiful game is plagued by political, social, and cultural tensions that create division and conflict. Despite football being a global and diverse sport, racism and discrimination remain embedded in the sport. This reality was made extremely clear during yesterday’s Champions League clash between Real Madrid and Benfica, where there was a 10-minute stoppage after Vinícius Júnior alleged racist abuse. 

    After scoring a sensational goal that put his team one-nil up, Real Madrid forward Vinicius Junior danced in the corner of the Estádio da Luz. In celebration and in the confrontations that followed, Benfica’s Gianluca Prestianni said something to him while covering his mouth. Vinícius immediately ran to the referee, François Letexier, who stopped the match and crossed his arms to signal that he was activating the anti-racism protocol. A Real Madrid statement said Vinicius told the referee he had been racially abused by the Argentina winger.

    In an interview after the match, Kylian Mbappé, who witnessed the ordeal, stated: “I’m going to explain what happened, Vinícius scores a goal, a goal of the host, he’s going to dance and then people whistle is something normal, and then number 25 has said 5 times monkey to Vinícius, you have to explain it calmly.” All throughout his career, Vinicius Junior has faced racist abuse. It is something that has come to define his football career. In 2021, when he was only 20 years old, fans at Camp Nou were recorded shouting “Macaco” (Monkey) at him near the touchline. 

    It is important to note that this comes just a couple of weeks after Donald Trump, the President of the country holding the 2026 FIFA World Cup, reposted a video depicting the Obamas as Gorillas. Black people have long been compared to animals and primates. This dehumanising trope was used to justify the violent processes of colonialism and slavery. In the nineteenth century, scientific racism promoted the false notion that Black people were biologically inferior and animalistic. 

    The suffering and subjugation of black and brown people seemed less ethically important because, in the eyes of white supremacists, they were animals, not humans. When figures in very powerful positions circulate or amplify that imagery, even indirectly, it normalises and signals to some people that such depictions are acceptable in public discourse. Whilst these two incidents are not directly related, they exist within the same wider cultural context where racism is increasingly becoming once again normalised.

    Vinícius Júnior has consistently been vocal about his experiences of racist abuse. However, whenever he has, a troubling narrative has persisted- that he provokes the racism he receives. This illogical idea that his celebrations and personality invite such horrific treatment completely shifts responsibility away from the perpetrators and onto the victim. This rhetoric resurfaced again yesterday in the commentary by Mark Clattenburg, who said Vinicius Junior hasn’t “made it difficult”, and by Benfica manager José Mourinho, who gave his response to the chaos that had unfolded during the match.  In an interview after the game, Mourinho said, “Vini Jr’s goal should be the main thing about the game. But when you score a goal like that… you should celebrate in a respectful way. But I will be independent; I will not say I believe Prestianni or Vini, I was not there. Prestianni denies it, but I will not pick a side. The biggest legend in this club is Eusebio. This club is not racist.”

    For Mourinho to suggest that, by celebrating in the way that he did, Vinicius Junior provoked a racist reaction is completely unacceptable. Celebrating in front of opposition fans is not something that was invented yesterday; it is a part of the game, and players should not have to suffer racist abuse for it. Given that Mourinho himself is well known for his antagonising celebrations on the touchline, he is the last person who should be dictating to a player how to celebrate. Dancing by the corner-flag should not be seen as controversial. Some of the most iconic goal celebrations have come in this way. By perpetuating this lazy narrative, it diverts attention away from the real issue of racism, which isn’t just a football problem but a wider societal problem. 

    Also, what’s even more outrageous is Mourinho saying the club cannot be racist because their biggest legend is a black player. It’s the sporting equivalent of saying, “I can’t be racist, I have Black friends.” Just because an iconic black figure has been celebrated and elevated does not mean that discriminatory behavior, biased structures, or the lived experiences of other players and fans have been completely erased. Benfica players and fans are not immune to racism simply because they have a statue of a black player outside of their stadium. Ultimately,  representation at the top does not automatically equal equality throughout the institution. Admiration for an exceptional individual does not dismantle bias. In fact, in some instances, it perpetuates bias. 

    This is because if that player fits the mold of what is “acceptable”-being humble, hardworking, and quiet- they are celebrated, and the underlying structures that allow discrimination to persist go unchallenged. Meanwhile, Black players like Vinícius Júnior, who are outspoken and expressive, are judged more harshly and subjected to abuse. Former Manchester United midfielder Paul Pogba was treated in a similar way, particularly from sections of the British media, for being different and outspoken. 

    He was often compared to N’Golo Kanté for his actions off the pitch as well as on the pitch. The difference between the two players fundamentally lies in how closely they conformed to socially comfortable and acceptable stereotypes. Kanté was often portrayed as humble and uncontroversial. His reserved personality and lack of public political statements contributed to a media image that was “acceptable” and non-threatening to mainstream audiences. The difference in the reception of these players highlighted that black athletes are more readily celebrated when they fit a narrow mold of quiet excellence rather than being outspoken and different. This could not be clearer today when we look at how Vini is treated.

    In recent years, there have been several anti racism campaigns by football’s governing bodies, but it is evident that more needs to be done. Punishments for racist abuse need to be stricter, and more education is needed. It is not enough to signal awareness. The deeper cultural attitudes and unconscious biases need to be confronted, and people need to face serious consequences for their actions. Kylian Mbappe has called for Prestianni to be banned from playing in the Champions League. While some may see this as extreme, perhaps this is precisely the kind of punishment that is needed to send a clear message that there is no room for racism in football.