After you’ve seized power—silencing rivals, manipulating laws, and taking over critical institutions—one final step remains: convincing people that you and the nation are one. This is where a “cult of personality” emerges. Once the public believes you’re “chosen” to guide the country, criticizing you starts to feel like an act of national betrayal.
Donald Trump’s second term, beginning in 2025, offers a striking modern example. At CPAC the year before, he declared, “I am your warrior, I am your justice… I am your retribution,” galvanizing supporters. By his inauguration, he was speaking of a “sacred duty” to revive America. Behind the scenes, rumors swirled of mid-level appointees asked to sign loyalty pledges—echoes of feudal oaths. “It wasn’t enough to serve our country; we had to serve him,” one ex-official recalled. While some resigned, others complied, hoping it was symbolic. Either way, dissent quickly looked like treason.
Attorney Rudy Giuliani, rewarded for his devotion, called Trump “the indispensable guardian of our Constitution.” Cabinet meetings became displays of adulation. “It felt like a show,” a former insider admitted. Meanwhile, thousands at rallies chanted Trump’s name as though summoning a protector. “He’s the only one who really cares about us,” a devotee insisted. Judges who blocked his orders were branded “enemies of the people,” fueling calls to curb judicial independence.
Hungary’s Viktor Orbán follows a similar script. Orbán’s face appears on billboards alongside nationalist slogans, implying loyalty to him equals loyalty to Hungary. “We must defend our homeland,” he often says, framing critics as threats. In state-friendly media, dissenters are dismissed as foreign agents. Orbán has described his victories as endorsements of “traditional Hungarian values,” making opposition appear unpatriotic.
Today, a government-funded $200M ad campaign by Trump’s Homeland Security Secretary, created at Trump’s request, thanks him for closing the border. Can billboards be far behind?
