59P o l i t i c s
A
remarkable feature of the
concept of political leadership
is its apparently infinite elasticity:
it stretches over presidents and
prime ministers, dictators and popes,
revolutionaries and reformers.Take the
concept beyond politics, and its reach
effortlessly expands to include business
executives, platoon commanders,
primary school principals, the captain
of the cricket team,and many more.But
is it useful,or even accurate,to describe
all these figures as ‘leaders’ given they,
and the entities they lead, have almost
nothing in common? Are they really
comparable as leaders?
Yes. At least according to the
mainstream leadership literature, these
are all leaders because, despite their
personal distinctiveness and contextual
diversity, they are engaged in the same
process of working with their followers
to achieve shared goals. There is not
much that leadership scholars do agree
on, but there is a broad consensus that
leadership must combine those three elements:
the personal traits of the leader,
the needs and aspirations of the group,
and their joint efforts to attain a shared
goal.Leaders without followers,as they
say, are just having a stroll in the park.
Archie Brown, emeritus professor
of politics at Oxford University, has
provided a masterly demonstration
that leadership is a valid and important
framework for understanding politics
and political change, through a wideranging
comparative analysis of leadership
in the Western democracies, in
authoritarian and totalitarian régimes,
and in systems undergoing reformist or
revolutionary transition.
Brown has been reading, teaching,
observing, and researching political
leadership for more than fifty years, in
North America and Europe as well as
in the communist and post-communist
world.His synoptic eye takes in,among
many others, Churchill and Attlee,
FDR and LBJ, Pol Pot, Kim Il-sung,
de Gaulle and Atatürk.
Nor is this mere travelogue.Brown’s
comparative sweep makes an important
contribution to our understanding of
leadership, by clarifying the influential
but hoary contrast between ‘transactional’and
‘transformational’leadership.
This binary was devised by the so-called
‘father’ of leadership studies, James
MacGregor Burns, in the late 1970s.
Burns saw transactional leadership as
a negotiation, built around procedural
values of mutual fairness and honesty;
think Julia Gillard’s negotiations with
the independents to secure a governing
majority in the hung parliament after
the 2010 election. Transformational
leadership, by contrast, transcends sectional
boundaries to achieve collective
change, by invoking universal moral
values of justice, freedom, and equality;
think Martin Luther King Jr’s ‘I have
a dream’ speech to a segregated 1960s
America.
For Brown,the spectrum of changeoriented
leaders is much broader; he
identifies and describes ‘transformational’,
‘inspirational’, ‘redefining’,
‘transitional’, and ‘revolutionary’ types;
he further distinguishes between
authoritarian and totalitarian leadership.
For Brown, true transformational
leadership is rare. Such leaders make
a decisive difference in achieving systemic
change – a change for the better
– from one set of economic or political
institutions to another. His examples,
presented in wonderfully informative
portraits,include de Gaulle’s creation of
the Fifth Republic, Suárez’s deft conduct,
as Spain’s first post-Franco prime
minister, in entrenching democracy,
Gorbachev’s manoeuvring to effect the
peaceful demise of the Soviet Union,
Deng’s far-reaching influence after the
chaos of Mao, and Mandela’s skills in
shifting from the apartheid era to a
democratic multiracial democracy in
South Africa.
On a different plane are the ‘inspirational’
leaders, such as Mahatma
Gandhi and Aung San Suu Kyi – but
not Martin Luther King Jr, of whom
Brown is oddly dismissive – who procure
systemic change not by wielding
executive power but from outside the
state as leaders of social movements.
In liberal Western democracies,
Brown argues, systemic change is not
normally necessary. But some democratic
leaders achieve game-changing,
enduring reform in policies, political
practice,and constitutional norms; they
‘redefine’ what is thought to be politically
possible.Presidents Roosevelt and
Johnson, with a question mark over
Reagan,along with British governments
led by Asquith, Attlee, and Thatcher,
all qualify, as do German Chancellors
Adenauer,Brandt,and Kohl.A particular
subset of redefining leaders are the
‘transitional’ones who pave the way for
later transformation; Brown nominates
Brazil’s Cardoso, South Africa’s de
Strong men of straw
A remarkable study of political leadership
Stephen Mills
The Myth of the Strong Leader:
Political Leadership in the Modern Age
by Archie Brown
Bodley Head, $59.99 hb, 470 pp, 9781847921758
60 N O V E M B E R 2 0 1 4 A u s t ra l i an B o o k R ev i e W
Klerk,andTaiwan’s Chiang Ching-kuo.
In all this, Brown is dealing only
with change ‘for the better’ – leaders
who reconstruct the system to create
something qualitatively better than
what has gone before. Revolutionary
leaders – Lenin, Mao – are thus not
‘transformational’ because, while they
do achieve radical systemic change,
they employ duress and oppression to
do so.Not all revolutions,moreover,are
led – at least not on the spot or necessarily
by a single person; think the mass
spontaneous uprising of the post-Shah
Iranian revolution or the more recent
Arab Spring. Brown completes his
overview with the totalitarian dictators
Mussolini, Hitler, and Stalin who concentrated
power in their own hands
and thus stand apart from the merely
authoritarian régimes which operate
with some form of collective leadership
such as, in the case of contemporary
China, what he calls ‘consultative au-
thoritarianism’.
Brown has thus erected a robust
framework of national leadership with
rich corroborative detail spanning
different countries and systems from
the start of the twentieth century to
the present day. In tracing a trajectory
from parliamentary democracy to the
gulag, Brown pursues a central theme
about the dangers and errors that arise
from untrammelled political leadership.
Whether it is by a cabinet or political
party in liberal democracies, or by an
oligarchy or Politburo in authoritarian
régimes,collective institutions must act
as restraints on leadership.
Unfortunately, Brown takes this
theme into a pseudo-controversy about
‘the myth of the strong leader’.The superstructure
of Brown’s book – its title
and preface – claims to expose what he
calls the dangerous but widespread illusion
that strong leaders are necessarily
successful and admirable leaders, and
that collegiality is a weakness. ‘Huge
power amassed by an individual leader
paves the way for important errors at
best and disaster and massive bloodshed
at worst,’ he asserts.
But this exposé is hardly news.The
strong man is in reality a straw man;
leadership studies have long since abandoned
Carlyle-like hero-worship of the
‘great man’.And in being argumentative,
Brown risks making the mistake,familiar
from the business branch of leadership
literature, of confusing organisational
‘power’ with personal ‘authority’.
As a source of a leader’s influence over
followers, the former is useful but
the latter is essential; hence Mandela,
utterly powerless in a prison cell on
Robben Island,remained a leader of immense
personal authority,while Gillard,
as formally powerful as any other prime
minister, still lacked the personal authority
necessary to govern effectively.
Regrettably, Brown seems determined
to ‘deal with’ Tony Blair, who
emerges from this book almost as a
caricature. Where Blair claims credit
for winning three elections, Brown
denies him; where Blair claims a policy
achievement, Brown dismisses it (not
even placing the architect of New
Labour among the ‘redefiners’). Brown
argues that Asquith was tougher than
Blair on the media tycoons of their day;
and he flays him for Iraq. For Brown,
any description of Blair as a ‘strong’
leader is to be resisted and exposed.
It is a flaw in an otherwise remarkable
and important book. g
Stephen Mills  teaches Public Sector
Leadership at the Graduate School of
Government at the University of Sydney.
He is the author of The Professionals:
Strategy, Money and the Rise of the
Political Campaigner in Australia (2014).
See: www.stephen-mills.com.au ❖
Digging in the garden I found a moth
albinoed on a piece of bark by the fence.
Those were my radiation days; it was good
to lay down the spade and kneel in the soil.
I took off my gloves. My fingernails were dirty,
my shoulder ached, the plants from the nursery
stood sentinel in their patient black pots.
I scooped the moth, laid it in my right hand.
But life must have just gone –
only the featherest movement, the colour
of milk, stirred something in me.
And the powder of those wings.
Behind me waited the spade, waited the plants.
The sun inched its shadows, the small black eye,
the folded segments now vacant.
I set the pale scrap where I had found it.
At night, Bach brings you back to me.
In the dark, I wish I had honoured you more.
Debi Hamilton
Moth
Debi Hamilton’s first collection of poetry, Being Alone, was published in 2013