Trump has a limited vocabulary for expressing his beliefs and feelings about issues and people. One word stands out among all others: dominate. He works hard at dominating through intimidation. It’s his principal tool for getting what he wants—perhaps the only one he has.
He uses the word frequently when explaining his approach to solving problems and managing relationships. World leaders, titans of industry, political associates, friends, lovers, even golf tournaments—it’s all the same: dominate every person, issue, and event. He can be charming when needed, but charm is only a tactic to find the right moment to dominate.
His frequent tirades of humiliating insults are verbal devices meant to intimidate others into submission. When turned around, they become complaints about how unfairly he is persecuted by enemies supposedly opposed to all the wonderful good he is doing. Likewise, he adopts physical settings and theatrical moves of dominance: photo ops in the Oval Office with world leaders, so-called spontaneous press conferences as he walks to the helicopter or stands in a passageway aboard Air Force One, speaking to a handful of reporters. None are spontaneous; they are calculated performances to dominate the narrative. The same goes for orchestrated cabinet meetings where officials are expected to offer televised praise.
But what happens when those domination tools don’t work?
It’s not something Trump has often experienced. His tactics have worked so well for so long, why shouldn’t they continue to? And yet, there are rare occasions when the intended target simply refuses to be dominated—refuses to respond in kind—and remains unmoved by insult or threat. Trump appears not to know what to do with that. How do you intimidate someone who refuses to be intimidated? How do you dominate someone who refuses to be dominated?
Refusing to be dominated is not the same as passive resistance, nor is it passive aggression. It is an active stand for what is good and right, taken in full awareness of the consequences. Many of us have encountered people who rely on domination and intimidation as habitual tools to get their way. And many of us have seen others who, without surrendering their dignity, respond as though the attempt to dominate had never occurred. That kind of response resets the entire narrative.
Jesus at his trial is one example. But you and I are not Jesus. So what about people closer to our own limitations and capabilities? Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu come to mind. They are modern symbols of courageous humility.
Here’s the point: the power to control is drained from leaders who rely on domination when individuals—and whole communities—turn the other cheek, and continue steadfastly doing what is right and good, as God has shown us the way of right and good.