Gradualism is not a luxury. It is the only vaccine against the strongman.

In the main essay, we traced the arc of Russia’s collapse in the 1990s – how shock therapy produced a national trauma, how a grievance‑fuelled strongman rose from that trauma, and how the cycle of confrontation has trapped both Russia and the West for three decades. We then turned to Argentina, watching the same pattern unfold today: a charismatic leader imposing brutal austerity, a society tearing itself apart, and the ominous possibility of a Latin American Putin waiting in the wings.

Why Russia and Argentina? Because they are the clearest, most advanced cases of the syndrome. But the syndrome is not unique. It is a general phenomenon, repeating today in at least three other regions, each with its own wounded former great power (or aspirant) that is being pushed toward the strongman cliff.


The Geography of the Wound

🇵🇰 Pakistan (Middle East / South Asia)

Pakistan was once a proud military power, the “only Muslim nuclear country,” a Cold War ally of the United States. Today, it is a nation in deep crisis: political chaos, economic free‑fall, a perennially simmering conflict with India, and a military establishment that has been humiliated by its own failures. The grievance is real – the perception that the West has abandoned it, that India is strangling it, that its own elite has looted it.

The result is a country that is constantly flirting with radicalism, both internally (Islamist militancy) and externally (proxy wars). Pakistan has nuclear weapons. A wounded, slighted, nuclear‑armed state is not a rational actor; it is a wounded wild animal. That is exactly the environment where a strongman – a military dictator wrapped in nationalist rhetoric – can seize power, promising to restore dignity and order.

🇵🇭 The Philippines (Southeast Asia)

The Philippines also has a history of great‑power aspiration. It was the oldest democracy in Asia, a former American colony, a critical Cold War ally. It possesses a civilian nuclear energy program (the Bataan Nuclear Power Plant, mothballed but not dismantled) and has long sought energy independence. However, its constitution explicitly prohibits the stationing of nuclear weapons on its soil – a narrow but crucial win for non‑militarisation. Yet the country has been repeatedly disappointed: by the corruption of its own elite, by the vacillating commitment of the United States, and by the rise of China as the region’s dominant power.

The result is a nation that has already produced one strongman (Rodrigo Duterte) and is now toying with another (the Marcos revival). The grievance is real: the perception that democracy has failed to deliver prosperity or dignity. The next strongman could be far more dangerous, building on Duterte’s drug war legacy and Marcos’s authoritarian nostalgia. The narrow constitutional barrier against nuclear weapons is a fragile defence; a future strongman could reinterpret or ignore it.

🇿🇦 South Africa (Africa)

South Africa is the continent’s former great power – the only African country to have developed nuclear weapons (later voluntarily dismantled), the economic engine of the region, a leader of the anti‑apartheid struggle. But post‑apartheid South Africa has been mired in corruption, state capture, economic stagnation, and a deep sense of betrayal – especially among the young black majority who expected a bright future and received a broken one.

The grievance is explosive: the perception that the ANC elite has looted the liberation struggle, that white capital has not been transformed, that the “rainbow nation” was a lie. South Africa is already experiencing intense social unrest, and the political system is under severe strain. A charismatic strongman promising to “finish the revolution” or “restore order” is not a fantasy; it is a plausible near‑term outcome.


The Nuclear Connection

What unites these examples – Russia, Pakistan, the Philippines (civilian nuclear program, but with a constitutional firewall that could be breached), and South Africa (former nuclear power) – is the combination of wounded pride and military (or militarised) capability. All have, at some point, pursued nuclear energy or nuclear prestige. In the Philippines’ case, the narrow constitutional prohibition of nuclear weapons is a thin shield; a sufficiently determined strongman could ignore it, just as Marcos once ignored constitutional limits.

A wounded former great power that still has (or once had) a nuclear arsenal or aspiration is uniquely dangerous. It is like a wounded animal that still has its claws. The historical pattern is well‑known: Genghis Khan was a slighted tribal leader who united the steppes and then conquered the world. Hitler was a wounded veteran who channeled German humiliation into genocide and war. The strongman is not a bug; it is a feature of the system when gradualism fails.


Gradualism as the Antidote

The common thread is that shock therapy – whether economic, political, or social – creates the conditions for the strongman. Rapid, brutal, ideologically pure reforms that tear the social fabric produce a trauma that can only be answered by a father‑figure who promises to restore order. Gradualism – slow, negotiated, inclusive change – does not produce that trauma.

  • In Russia, gradualism was rejected in favour of shock therapy. The result was Putin.
  • In Argentina, gradualism is being rejected in favour of Milei’s chainsaw. The result may be a Latin American Putin.
  • In Pakistan, the Philippines, and South Africa, the choice is not yet made. There is still time to choose the slow, boring, resilient path of institutional reform, poverty reduction, and inclusive growth – rather than the exciting, brutal path of the strongman.

The warning is clear. A wounded former great power is like a wounded wild animal. It will either be healed, slowly and patiently, or it will lash out, and the world will pay the price. Gradualism is not a luxury. It is the only vaccine against the strongman.