God’s Chosen or Deal Maker?
Trump’s Hybrid Leadership Explored
with help from Shakespeare and Whitehead
As Donald Trump is inaugurated, some, especially evangelical Christians, see him as anointed by God to assume leadership of America, not unlike a divine king. Others, however, view him as elected on the basis of his merits—his capacities for strategic alliances and pragmatic rule—rather than by divine right.
I suspect that Trump sees himself in both ways—as someone destined, perhaps by God, to rule, yet also as a supremely modern transactional leader.
This duality in perception reveals a tension in modern leadership styles: the authoritarian or the pragmatist. Shakespeare's Richard II helps illuminate this polarity and assists in understanding the kind of leadership to which Trump is drawn: a hybrid of the two types.
In Richard II, Shakespeare portrays a monarch who initially rules with an air of divine authority, grounded in the belief that kingship is ordained by God. Richard's downfall, however, comes as he fails to balance this divine legitimacy with the pragmatic demands of governance. His successor, Henry Bolingbroke, embodies the opposite style, ascending to power through strategic alliances, practicality, and a keen sense of political calculation. The contrast between these characters underscores a broader tension between sacral authority and pragmatic leadership, one that resonates deeply in contemporary politics.
Trump's leadership mirrors aspects of both figures. Like Richard II, he sometimes evokes a sense of divine ordination, particularly among his evangelical supporters who see him as a vessel for God's plan. Yet, his style also reflects Bolingbroke's transactional pragmatism—favoring deals, negotiations, and strategic maneuvering over ideology or tradition. This synthesis of divine right and transactional leadership offers insight into Trump's appeal and the polarized reactions he provokes.
Trump's self-image likely oscillates between these two poles. On one hand, he presents himself as a protector of Christian values and American identity, echoing the divine right narrative. On the other, he relishes the role of a dealmaker, leveraging power through alliances and negotiations. This hybrid approach resonates with a segment of the electorate seeking both moral certainty and practical outcomes.
The tension between authoritarian and pragmatic leadership is not new, but Trump's embodiment of both styles in the modern era raises questions about the future of political authority. Does leadership grounded in divine sanction risk alienating pragmatic voters? Conversely, does transactional governance erode the moral foundations of leadership? Shakespeare's exploration of these themes in Richard II provides a lens through which we can examine Trump's presidency and the broader dynamics of contemporary political power.
Ultimately, Trump's leadership style reflects an ongoing negotiation between these competing visions of authority. By straddling the line between divine legitimacy and pragmatic rule, he both captivates and polarizes—a phenomenon that invites continued reflection on the nature of leadership in the modern world.
From a process philosophical perspective, this duality in leadership can be seen as part of a broader metaphysical tension between order and novelty. Process thought, as articulated by Alfred North Whitehead, emphasizes the dynamic interplay of permanence and change, structure and improvisation. Trump's leadership mirrors this dynamic, combining a longing for established moral certainties with the flexibility required for adaptive, pragmatic decision-making.
Whitehead's concept of "concrescence"—the process by which multiple influences are integrated into a unified experience—can illuminate Trump's approach. He synthesizes diverse influences, appealing to religious traditionalists while also embodying modern capitalist pragmatism. Yet this synthesis is inherently unstable, as it depends on continually balancing contrasting tendencies.
Moreover, process philosophy suggests that leadership is always relational, shaped by the interactions between leaders and their constituencies. Trump's leadership can thus be seen as an emergent property of his interactions with supporters who project onto him both divine purpose and practical effectiveness. His style underscores the relational nature of authority, highlighting the role of perception and shared values in sustaining power.
Finally, process thought invites us to see leadership as part of an ongoing creative advance into novelty. Trump's presidency reflects the uncertainties and tensions of an evolving society, grappling with competing desires for stability and transformation. Whether his approach represents a sustainable model or a transitional phase remains an open question, one that calls for continued reflection within the framework of process philosophy.
I suspect that Trump sees himself in both ways—as someone destined, perhaps by God, to rule, yet also as a supremely modern transactional leader.
This duality in perception reveals a tension in modern leadership styles: the authoritarian or the pragmatist. Shakespeare's Richard II helps illuminate this polarity and assists in understanding the kind of leadership to which Trump is drawn: a hybrid of the two types.
In Richard II, Shakespeare portrays a monarch who initially rules with an air of divine authority, grounded in the belief that kingship is ordained by God. Richard's downfall, however, comes as he fails to balance this divine legitimacy with the pragmatic demands of governance. His successor, Henry Bolingbroke, embodies the opposite style, ascending to power through strategic alliances, practicality, and a keen sense of political calculation. The contrast between these characters underscores a broader tension between sacral authority and pragmatic leadership, one that resonates deeply in contemporary politics.
Trump's leadership mirrors aspects of both figures. Like Richard II, he sometimes evokes a sense of divine ordination, particularly among his evangelical supporters who see him as a vessel for God's plan. Yet, his style also reflects Bolingbroke's transactional pragmatism—favoring deals, negotiations, and strategic maneuvering over ideology or tradition. This synthesis of divine right and transactional leadership offers insight into Trump's appeal and the polarized reactions he provokes.
Trump's self-image likely oscillates between these two poles. On one hand, he presents himself as a protector of Christian values and American identity, echoing the divine right narrative. On the other, he relishes the role of a dealmaker, leveraging power through alliances and negotiations. This hybrid approach resonates with a segment of the electorate seeking both moral certainty and practical outcomes.
The tension between authoritarian and pragmatic leadership is not new, but Trump's embodiment of both styles in the modern era raises questions about the future of political authority. Does leadership grounded in divine sanction risk alienating pragmatic voters? Conversely, does transactional governance erode the moral foundations of leadership? Shakespeare's exploration of these themes in Richard II provides a lens through which we can examine Trump's presidency and the broader dynamics of contemporary political power.
Ultimately, Trump's leadership style reflects an ongoing negotiation between these competing visions of authority. By straddling the line between divine legitimacy and pragmatic rule, he both captivates and polarizes—a phenomenon that invites continued reflection on the nature of leadership in the modern world.
From a process philosophical perspective, this duality in leadership can be seen as part of a broader metaphysical tension between order and novelty. Process thought, as articulated by Alfred North Whitehead, emphasizes the dynamic interplay of permanence and change, structure and improvisation. Trump's leadership mirrors this dynamic, combining a longing for established moral certainties with the flexibility required for adaptive, pragmatic decision-making.
Whitehead's concept of "concrescence"—the process by which multiple influences are integrated into a unified experience—can illuminate Trump's approach. He synthesizes diverse influences, appealing to religious traditionalists while also embodying modern capitalist pragmatism. Yet this synthesis is inherently unstable, as it depends on continually balancing contrasting tendencies.
Moreover, process philosophy suggests that leadership is always relational, shaped by the interactions between leaders and their constituencies. Trump's leadership can thus be seen as an emergent property of his interactions with supporters who project onto him both divine purpose and practical effectiveness. His style underscores the relational nature of authority, highlighting the role of perception and shared values in sustaining power.
Finally, process thought invites us to see leadership as part of an ongoing creative advance into novelty. Trump's presidency reflects the uncertainties and tensions of an evolving society, grappling with competing desires for stability and transformation. Whether his approach represents a sustainable model or a transitional phase remains an open question, one that calls for continued reflection within the framework of process philosophy.