Yesterday millions of Americans demonstrated against our would-be king. We had a rally in our little Portland neighborhood—about 200 attended—and I read excerpts from the Declaration of Independence. For this post one sentence will suffice:

“…when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce [the people] under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security.”

Then we went downtown to join the larger group which even the police, who usually lowball us, estimated at “tens of thousands.”

The periodicals I read insist that we are moving, worldwide, to a new age of authoritarianism. But yesterday gave me hope. Perhaps, after millennia of bowing down to thugs and blowhards, the human race can move toward a new maturity.

Is It in Our DNA?

“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars/But in ourselves, that we are underlings.” Shakespeare wrote that in 1599 to describe the political situation of 44 BCE. It could just as easily describe much of history.

In his 2019 book, The Cult of Trump, psychologist Steve Hassan wrote that our species is hard-wired to follow a leader, specifically one seen as an “alpha male.” Per his argument, this unfortunate trait is not in our stars but in our genes.

Animals tend to live in groups, and groups generally have leaders. There are a few exceptions—among them the platypus, moose, desert tortoise, and solitary sandpiper—who spend their lives in isolation except for a brief mating or perhaps a few months to rear offspring. . Those who select leaders vary in their ways. Elephants, spotted hyenas, and orcas are matriarchal, taking direction from the oldest and most experienced female. Three-spined sticklebacks choose by consensus, swimming after the fattest and healthiest among them. Wolves are another kind of exception, forming life-long egalitarian couples.

Humans share 99% of our DNA with our nearest cousins, the chimpanzees and bonobos, and those great ape species behave quite differently.

According to National Geographic, while some alpha chimps form coalitions, building bonds with their fellows, grooming and spending more time interacting with them, the lion’s share rule by brute force. They “enjoy access to fertile females and father the most offspring…keep the peace by stemming disputes in the group and controlling resources such as food. They also maintain a pecking order that determines who gets to mate with whom —a popular political favor to be handed out to supporters.” Self-interested thugs, they terrorize the rest of the troop.

Bonobos, on the other hand, are matriarchal. Per the NY Times, this is “a relative rarity among mammals, especially in species where males are the larger sex. While females are smaller than their male counterparts, they reign supreme in bonobo societies.” They maintain dominance by joining forces. “When a male bonobo steps out of line, nearby females will band together to attack or intimidate him. Males who cower in the face of such conflicts lose social rank, while their female adversaries gain it, affording them better access to food, and mates for their sons.”

The Choices We Make

Humans really do seem to have a choice. According to an article in the National Geographic, “In 2019 researchers at Vanderbilt University [analyzed] matrilineal communities to see if they did have anything in common. Globally 590 societies were known to be traditionally patrilineal, 362 were bilateral…and another 160 were recognized as matrilineal.”

Matriliny, however, is not matriarchy. And many societies which have been described as matriarchal are not simply reverse images of patriarchy, but places where women are equal, or even predominant but without being domineering. Some of those cultures include the pre-colonial Iroquois, Cherokee, and Hopi. Modern examples of more egalitarian societies include the Khasi of India, Minangkabau of Indonesia, Mosuo of China, Akan of Ghana, and Bribri of Costa Rica.

While some patriarchies have had women rulers on occasion (e.g., the female pharaoh Hatshepsut, Russia’s Catherine the Great, England’s Elizabeth I), the majority of kings, presidents, “supreme leaders” and such have been men.

The Lust for a Leader

Maybe we yearn for a Big Daddy because we’re born helpless and need benevolent parents to survive, perhaps because even as adults we are aware of our individual frailty against the indifferent forces of nature and/or the malevolence of other organized tribes. One of the earliest records of people calling for a king is in I Samuel 8, where the prophet replies to their demand:

“This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants….He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen…”

But the people refused to listen to Samuel. “No!” they said. “We want a king over us. Then we will be like all the other nations, with a king to lead us and to go out before us and fight our battles.”

The One You Long For

A few months ago I was talking politics with some neighbors. A woman said, “We need a leader.”

“No,” I replied. “You don’t need anyone to tell you what to do. The changes we long for depend on all of us, all our talents, our contributions.

“You, every one of you, are the leaders.”