“Every ideology offers its adherents the opportunity to discharge their pent-up affect collectively while retaining the idealized primary object… each time they sent another Jewish child to the gas ovens, they were, in essence, murdering the child within themselves.”
– Alice Miller, For Your Own Good
Yesterday’s attack by Donald Trump on Iran marks yet another perilous chapter in humanity’s long, tragic history of collective reenactment. As UN Secretary-General António Guterres warned, the strike signifies “a perilous turn in a region that is already reeling.” But as disturbing as this violent escalation is on a geopolitical level, it’s even more chilling when viewed through the lens of deep psychological truth.
We are watching, in real time, the acting out of unresolved childhood trauma—on a massive scale.
In 2016, I warned that electing Trump would have disastrous consequences, not just politically, but psychologically and morally. I wrote then that the hatred toward Hillary Clinton was not rooted in politics or policy—it came from a deeper place. A place so many people remain terrified to explore: their own repressed pain. The hatred of women like Hillary is a disguised hatred of their own mothers—the women who, in their earliest, most defenseless years, neglected or violated them in the name of "love," discipline, or duty. Since that pain is buried and inaccessible, it is redirected—projected—onto other women. The mother must be idealized. And every other woman must suffer in her place.
That is how misogyny survives, even thrives—especially when society remains blind to the emotional wounds at its core.
Donald Trump is not just a man; he is the symbol of millions of people’s repression. He is the embodiment of toxic grandiosity built on the ashes of a murdered inner child. He surrounds himself with "yes" men, just like a tyrannical father surrounded by silent, fearful children. He cannot tolerate contradiction because he never learned to tolerate pain. His compulsive need for dominance is not strength—it is weakness, the hollow terror of a boy who was never truly seen or loved.
Alice Miller said it best: “To many people it seems easier to prepare wars than expose themselves to their own painful truth.”
This war, like all others, began long before missiles were launched. It began in cribs and kitchens, in beatings and betrayals, in silent dinners and cruel punishments. It began with children forced to adapt to emotional prisons and then taught to call it love.
And now, once again, the child who was never allowed to cry is bombing other children in the name of “security.” That’s how repression works. That’s how reenactment works.
It is truly staggering that the American people, despite all the damage Trump has already done, elected him again. But this, too, makes sense when you understand repression. As Alice Miller wrote in Banished Knowledge, intelligence offers no protection from totalitarianism when the true self is buried. Many of Trump’s supporters believe they are voting for “freedom,” when in reality, they are voting for obedience, for the illusion of protection, for the promise of punishment—of themselves or others—so they never have to face their unbearable pain.
Many Trump voters are still stuck in the diaper stage: frantically searching for a pacifier to soothe their unresolved anguish. That pacifier, for them, is money. Trump promises it, and they cling to him, not because they love him—but because they are terrified without him. He is not their leader; he is their substitute parent, their protector from feeling the truth of their childhoods.
But the cost of this illusion is steep. War. Violence. Reenactment on a world stage.
And behind all of it, the broken child still cries.
We are not facing a political crisis alone. We are facing a crisis of consciousness, a profound psychological amnesia that infects every level of society—from our homes to our governments. Those who idealize their abusers in childhood grow up to idealize authoritarian leaders. The inability to say no to toxic parents becomes the inability to say no to toxic power.
It is not “evil” we are fighting—it is repression.
And repression, left unexamined, becomes dangerous. It becomes collective. It becomes contagious. And then it becomes war.
There is no such thing as “good” and “bad” people. There are only conscious people and unconscious ones. Repressed people—some of whom hide their cruelty behind masks of kindness, others who flaunt it openly. And a rare few who have dared to face their childhood pain and live in truth.
As Alice Miller wrote:
“The amnesia of politicians or leaders of sects does afflict countless people, and will continue to do so, as long as society remains blind to the important connections between the denial of traumatic experiences in early childhood and the destructive, criminal actions of individuals.”
This moment in history calls us not only to protest injustice, but to understand its roots. If we truly want peace, we must look within. Not just at the men who drop bombs, but at the children they once were. And most urgently, at the children we once were.
Only when we stop reenacting our pain—and dare to feel it—can we stop making others pay the price for it.
Above is ChapGPT's polished version of my word salad, and below is DeepSeek's polished version.
The Roots of Political Recklessness: How Repressed Childhood Trauma Drives Destructive Leadership
A Perilous Turn in Global Politics
The recent U.S. military strike on Iran marks yet another dangerous escalation in an already volatile region. As CNN reports, the UN chief warns that this attack could spiral into wider conflict—a grim reminder of the consequences of impulsive, authoritarian leadership.
But why do so many people continue to support leaders like Donald Trump, whose recklessness endangers global stability? The answer lies not in rational politics, but in the unresolved psychological wounds of his supporters—wounds rooted in childhood repression and the unconscious transfer of hatred toward authority figures.
The Unconscious Voter: Repressed Hatred and the Fear of Female Leadership
In 2016, I wrote extensively about the dangers of electing Trump, arguing that his appeal was not based on policy but on deep-seated emotional triggers. His victory over Hillary Clinton—and his subsequent re-election against another qualified woman—was not an accident. It was a symptom of repressed misogyny, a collective backlash against the symbolic "mother" figure that many voters unconsciously resent.
As Alice Miller wrote in Banished Knowledge:
"To many people it seems easier to take medication, to smoke, drink alcohol, preach, educate or treat others, and prepare wars than expose themselves to their own painful truth."
Many Trump voters are trapped in the "diaper stage" of emotional development—fixated on the pacifier of money, power, and simplistic promises, all while repressing the pain of their own childhood powerlessness. They cling to a strongman leader because he embodies the authoritarian parent they once feared and idealized.
The Illusion of Safety in Authoritarianism
Miller’s work in For Your Own Good explains how early conditioning shapes our political obedience:
"Our capacity to resist has nothing to do with our intelligence but with the degree of access to our true self. Indeed, intelligence is capable of innumerable rationalizations when it comes to the matter of adaptation."
This explains why so many "intelligent" people fall for demagogues. A person who was taught to obey without question as a child will, as an adult, submit just as easily to a political strongman. They trade autonomy for the illusion of security, projecting their repressed rage onto scapegoats—whether immigrants, political opponents, or entire nations like Iran.
Breaking the Cycle: Facing Our Own Repression
The solution is not just better policies—it’s deeper self-awareness. Until individuals confront their own repressed childhood pain, they will continue to empower leaders who mirror their unresolved trauma.
As Miller warns:
"The cruelty inflicted on them, the psychic murder of the child they once were, had to be passed on in the same way: each time they sent another Jewish child to the gas ovens, they were, in essence, murdering the child within themselves."
The same dynamic plays out today—not in gas chambers, but in drone strikes, economic cruelty, and the erosion of democracy. The cycle only stops when we stop lying to ourselves.
The Path Forward
We must reject the illusion that politics is purely rational. It is deeply psychological. If we want to prevent future Trumps—or worse—we must:
Acknowledge our own repressed childhood emotions—particularly toward early caregivers.
Recognize how authoritarian leaders exploit these wounds by offering false strength and revenge towards scapegoats.
Support leaders who embody emotional maturity, not parental substitutes.
The stakes could not be higher. The world cannot afford another four years of leadership driven by unhealed trauma.
Final Thoughts
As I wrote in 2016: "Money alone, without facing our childhood repression, is just another illusion. We live in an Upside Down World."
The question is: Will we wake up before it’s too late?
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