When I watch old movies from the 1950s and 1960s, I feel the world as it once moved, its manners, its hopes, its entertainments, its quiet politics embedded between the lines. These films are not just stories; they are reflections of how people once understood themselves and their moment in history. As I watch, I can’t help but turn the mirror toward the present. The characters on the screen, long gone in any physical sense, feel no less real than we do now. They exist within the same fabric of time and meaning, only seen from a different angle. I imagine someone fifty years younger than me, watching our era’s films half a century from now, having the same realization. In that thought, life gains a strange reassurance: a sense of continuity, a shared human community that stretches across generations. Time moves forward, but the pulse of human experience, its questions, performances, and quiet longings, remains remarkably intact.
In the landscape of political movements, a recurring pattern emerges: the rise of parties dominated by a self-anointed elite who wield power under the guise of benevolence. These elites proclaim equality for the masses while positioning themselves as the enlightened shepherds guiding the flock. This dynamic is not merely a flaw in human organization but a deliberate trap, often cemented by the allure of intellectualism. Intellectualism, as a state of mind distinct from emotion, faith, belief, logic, intuition, or instinct, serves as a fragile yet seductive glue that binds followers to the cause. It promises superiority and certainty, yet it sows the seeds of corruption and decline. This essay explores how intellectualism becomes a self-set trap in political parties, examining its role in justifying elite dominance, sustaining loyalty, and ultimately inviting downfall. At the heart of these political entities lies a profound hypocrisy. Leaders espouse egalitarian ideals, insisting tha...