The Inner Monologue

Authoritarian regimes are rarely built by a single man. They are built by coalitions—fervent believers, cynical opportunists, idealists, fanatics, and those simply desperate for belonging. In America’s current populist right, the MAGA movement represents a broad and combustible mix of all these types. Its factions—radical populists, religious nationalists, tech-libertarians, and establishment opportunists—each play a distinct role in building the foundation of strongman politics.

And yet, history shows that the same factions that lift an authoritarian to power are the first to be devoured by it. Once a ruler consolidates control, he begins to fear the very forces that empowered him. Their independence, spontaneity, and ideological purity become liabilities. What was once called “the movement” becomes, in the ruler’s eyes, a threat to order.

I. The Radical Populists: From Shock Troops to Scapegoats

At the dawn of any authoritarian era, the radical populists are the spark. They rally the streets, fill the rallies, and flood social media with anger and loyalty. They make the unimaginable seem inevitable. Their outrage at elites, immigrants, or institutions fuels the emotional energy that legitimizes extraordinary actions.

They are indispensable in chaos—but intolerable in control.

Once the leader has power, their unpredictability becomes dangerous. Street protests that once intimidated opponents now embarrass the regime’s quest for respectability. Militias that once pledged loyalty become unpredictable forces of their own. Their rage can’t simply be switched off.

The purge will begin with rebranding. The same regime that winked at their excesses will now call them “domestic terrorists.” New laws—marketed as “public order acts” or “domestic extremism prevention”—will define them as security threats. A single violent incident will be amplified endlessly as proof that these “former patriots” have gone rogue.

The repression will be procedural, not theatrical. Bank accounts frozen for “investigation.” Social media wiped. A few televised trials—carefully chosen martyrs—will send the message that loyalty has limits. The rest will simply vanish into bureaucratic silence: no-jury indictments, sealed warrants, confiscations that never make the news.

II. The Religious Nationalists: The Saints Who Become Heretics

The religious right sanctifies the authoritarian’s rise. It lends moral gravity to power—turning political agendas into holy causes. Churches become campaign offices, pulpits become podiums. Every strongman needs apostles to bless his ambition.

But faith, once awakened, cannot be contained. The moment a preacher criticizes corruption, or a church refuses to parrot the latest decree, the state discovers “extremism.” The same Bible verses once quoted at rallies become “hate speech.” The sermons once aired on state television are suddenly censored for “inciting division.”

The justification will be elegant: “We respect religion, but not political extremism hiding behind it.” New tax laws will revoke exemptions from “political” congregations. Faith-based schools will be audited for “radicalization.” Clergy will be summoned for “consultations” that sound pastoral but are actually interrogations.

Over time, a state-approved religion emerges—a sanitized faith stripped of rebellion, self-sacrifice, or conscience. Its god is no longer the divine; its god is order.

III. The Tech-Right and Crypto-Libertarians: The Builders of Freedom Who Unknowingly Build the Cages

Every modern authoritarian dreams of controlling information and money. The tech-right—the engineers, crypto advocates, and libertarians—are drawn to the early movement by its promise to “break the system.” They see decentralization as liberation. They design tools to bypass “deep state” controls and build parallel economies.

And for a while, the ruler lets them. Their platforms carry propaganda, their crypto networks fund campaigns beyond oversight, their data operations harvest voters with scientific precision. They are useful—until they aren’t.

When the regime decides it must control capital and communication, it turns on the very infrastructure these innovators built. Decentralized finance becomes “money laundering for extremists.” Encryption becomes “a threat to national security.” A single executive order freezes their assets, citing emergency powers. Servers are seized under the guise of “foreign influence operations.” The message is clear: there will be no freedom that the state cannot surveil.

The genius of authoritarianism in the digital age is that it doesn’t have to destroy technology—it merely colonizes it. The networks that once empowered rebellion become surveillance grids. The data once collected to “fight fake news” now identifies dissidents. The libertarians’ utopia becomes the regime’s panopticon.

IV. The Establishment Opportunists: The Collaborators Who Thought They Could Manage the Beast

Finally, there are the careerists—the senators, donors, consultants, and CEOs who think they can ride the tiger. They are not true believers but realists. They back the authoritarian early, believing they can moderate him later. They tell themselves they are protecting the system from worse outcomes.

History reserves a special humiliation for them.

Once the strongman no longer needs them, they become expendable. They are the most vulnerable because they have the most to lose: businesses, reputations, legacies. They are not purged with tanks but with subpoenas. A corruption case here, a tax audit there, a contract quietly revoked. “No one is above the law,” the regime insists as it weaponizes the law against them.

They will discover too late that they have built a machine that obeys only one man. When they protest, their words are called “elitist sabotage.” When they resign, their replacements are zealots. The bureaucracy they thought they controlled now controls them.

V. The Common Script of Control

Across all factions, the mechanisms of repression follow a predictable pattern:

1. Co-optation. Early loyalty is rewarded with access and prestige. The regime uses each faction’s energy to consolidate power.
2. Reclassification. Once the regime stabilizes, the same factions are redefined: from “patriots” to “troublemakers,” from “moral guardians” to “extremists,” from “innovators” to “saboteurs.”
3. Legalization of suppression. Emergency laws, decrees, and regulatory reforms create a veneer of legitimacy. There is no need for overt dictatorship when paperwork suffices.
4. Isolation. Each group is targeted separately, framed as deviant while others stay silent—until silence becomes complicity.
5. Normalization. Citizens accept repression as the price of peace. The machinery of democracy continues to hum; it simply produces only one result.

The most chilling feature is how legal it all appears. Every arrest is filed under the right statute, every raid justified by paperwork, every journalist charged with “defamation” or “disinformation.” The architecture of oppression is built from the bricks of legality.

VI. The Final Irony

Authoritarianism feeds on loyalty until loyalty itself becomes dangerous. Every movement that imagines it can control a demagogue eventually learns the same lesson: no one remains untouchable. The revolution always consumes its children.

The populists will be the first to feel betrayed. The preachers will be the first to be silenced. The engineers will be the first to be monitored. The politicians will be the last to realize that the order they defended has outlived their usefulness.

And through it all, the ruler will insist that nothing has changed—that the Constitution still stands, that the laws are being followed, that everything being done is for safety, stability, and the preservation of freedom.

That is the genius—and the horror—of modern authoritarianism. It does not march in jackboots; it signs executive orders. It does not burn books; it throttles algorithms. It does not silence opposition in one night; it slowly persuades the loyal that silence is patriotism.

The warning, then, is not about the fall of democracy in a single day. It is about the quiet moment when yesterday’s allies wake up and realize they are tomorrow’s enemies—and by then, it’s already too late to speak.