Lets start with an example.

Well, two examples. One is relatively benign. The other, pretty extreme. Our current political situation sits somewhere in the middle.

Example 1:

We are students in high school. The newly elected Student Body President is a popular kid — his family is wealthy, and being friends with him has its perks. In fact, he’s a pretty effective leader. He even got the school to lower lunch prices, so that’s neat. He’s also a powerful speaker — school assemblies and rallies can get quite boisterous. But after the assemblies and rallies are done, we notice that he tends to pick on some of the kids in the hall. He mocks some of the disabled students, and spreads rumors that the students of Mexican heritage are likely to steal your lunch money. Luckily, we’re not Mexican, and we haven’t been jumped after school. For us, his leadership mostly means cheaper lunches, and we can ignore the other stuff he says.

My question is this: What response do we owe to such a leader?

Example 2:

We are German citizens, a few years before WWII really kicks in. Like the previous example, we’ve got a new leader who’s proven to be pretty effective in rebuilding morale — in this case, after the country suffered a huge economic loss. He tends to place blame on certain groups of people, like the Jewish community, but the economy is building again, and we’re starting to feel hope again. We’re not Jewish, so his scapegoating doesn’t really affect us.

My question remains: What response do we owe to such a leader?

Do we have a duty to praise these leaders for the good they’re accomplishing? For me, that’s an important question. Do we have a moral duty to praise our leaders for the good they accomplish? I ask because I’ve been told that I focus too much on the faults of President Trump. I can’t, however, find myself in either of the above scenarios feeling a moral obligation to be well-rounded in my response to the leadership. I find no ethical obligation to be a cheerleader. Their good acts will speak for themselves — they will benefit people with or without my praise. Whether or not I proselytize the good news of cheaper school lunches, the lunches will be cheaper. I don’t have to announce from the rooftops the improvement in the economy. Those things tend to be known. And if they outweigh the bad, such a leader will continue to lead. I am not a reporter, whose duty it is to share the news of the day impartially and unbiased. Basically, the danger the world faces if I fail to announce the cheaper school lunches or booming economy is small. However, staying silent while students are assaulted, or entire ethnic or religious groups are targeted and blamed makes me complicit in the violence that follows. There’s a good TL;DR for this paper:

Staying silent while [others] are assaulted, or entire ethnic or religious groups are targeted and blamed makes me complicit in the violence that follows.

Some might refute this idea; generally, being a cheerleader is a good thing — it’s best to find the good in people, focus on the light, and encourage rather than criticize. I’m usually an optimist, and like to look for glass-half-full perspectives. In fact, I’d even suggest striving for that in most situations, and with most leaders. No leader, president or otherwise, is going to please 100% of the people 100% of the time. I often advocate for finding two sides to each story; being able to recognize the good and the bad together is healthy and productive, and allows us to work together. To this argument, as it applies to Donald Trump, I respond:

There comes a point somewhere on that scale where finding the good in everyone becomes less important than standing up for those who are persecuted. I would suggest that such a point comes when the powerful use their power to persecute those weaker than themselves, especially when that oppression is both frequent and applauded. At that point, I believe a line has been drawn in the sand, and we must stand with one or the other — the powerful, or the oppressed. And sand is malleable; such lines do not have to stay drawn forever, nor do our criticisms if or when people change. But in the moment of oppression, when a leader becomes a bully, we must choose a side. And in my view, silence is choosing the side of the powerful.

That power imbalance is important, and key to this whole discussion. In contrast, a leader who considers those she leads equal to herself draws no such lines in the sand, and does not evoke moral obligations to criticize. A leader who uses their power to uplift and inspire, believing — and treating — all people as equals under God, does not warrant the criticism meant for those who use fear and lies to protect their own power. When shaping our responses to those in powerful positions, we should examine how they are using that power, and how they treat those less powerful than themselves.