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I know I’m not the only one disturbed by the scenes of Donald Trump and J.D. Vance publicly dressing down Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky in the White House.
I was saddened and sickened by the bullying behaviour of those entrusted to know and be a whole lot better than that. The lack of empathy, the attempts to humiliate and intimidate, and the smirking childish arrogance was embarrassing to witness. Especially from individuals holding the highest positions of political leadership and responsibility.
It presents us with a question. Do we accept it? Does it reflect the world we want to create together?
This kind of bullying affects not only its direct targets but also those who witness it. Many people felt the sting of observing that incident for various reasons. So, how ought we respond when we see and hear things like this, which might have particular personal resonance for those who have been on the receiving end of power abuses themselves?
Growing up, I was taught that bullies tend to operate from a place of insecurity. They mask their inferiority with a facade of superiority. The hypocrisy in the accusations about disrespect struck me. It’s a classic charge from someone who feels insecure.
They questioned Zelensky’s clothes—a choice he has openly described as a show of solidarity with fellow Ukrainians during wartime. In doing so, they displayed ignorance, wilful or otherwise, of the traumatic reality his country had thrust upon it from an invading force.
Bullies don’t respect the humanity of others. They smirk, berate, and belittle rather than empathise, understand, and connect.
Many of us have encountered or witnessed bullying in different areas of life—a boss who publicly humiliates or undermines an employee, someone who sabotages others by withholding critical information or setting them up for failure, or a family member who uses emotional blackmail or guilt to coerce and manipulate.
The dynamics are strikingly similar. A pathological need to dominate, a pattern of intentionally misrepresenting someone’s words, obsessively pulling apart everything someone does, and active enjoyment from causing a person harm or distress.
A bully arrogantly attempts to humiliate and intimidate. This is not a show of strength but a reflection of deep-seated insecurity and weakness.
This reflects a distinction we might make between arrogance and confidence. Arrogance, as I see it, is insecurity dressed up as superiority. It’s the need to dominate, to belittle, and to control. Confidence, on the other hand, is secure in who it is and the path it’s on. It doesn’t need to tear others down to feel strong.
This incident stirred a quiet rage within me. Something was disturbing about watching a leader like Zelensky, who had shown immense courage and grace in the face of Russia’s invasion, be treated with such disdain and disrespect.
So, what do we do when we witness events like this? It’s easy to get caught up in the emotion and stay there. But it’s more important to pause, process, and channel those feelings into constructive actions.
This incident is not just about politics; it’s about human behaviour and the world we create through what we tolerate, amplify, and emulate. What kind of example do we want to set, promote, and adhere to?
Strong and healthy leadership protects the weakest, respects differences, and fosters a spirit of collaboration. It listens and learns, communicates with clarity and honesty, and is guided by foundational collective principles that transcend ego, pride, and selfish ambition. We should demand these qualities from our leaders in every walk of life as we strive to embody them for ourselves.
As I reflected on this situation earlier, an email from Sage Justice with the subject Maturity landed in my inbox. She shared an excerpt from a poem in her Freedom Book One. The poem beautifully captures the foundations from which this situation has arisen.