Politics of outrage: Where dialogue dies in moral binaries

In ideological or political propaganda, it was historically the case that each side argues its position as correct and the other as wrong. While each fights to demonstrate it is right and exerts persuasive rhetoric to expand its sphere of influence, it was also the case that there was a subtle recognition that the other side may also have a point – a tacit acknowledgement that the arguments against us may have some merit. Yet, it followed that ‘engaged as I am in a polemic, I will fight for country and people’. In recent times, politics across the world has transformed adversaries into demons.

For centuries, ideological disputes were fought vigorously but with a measure of respect for the adversary. Each side sought to prove itself right, marshalling persuasion and rhetoric, yet beneath the clash was an implicit acknowledgement: the other side, like our own, is engaged in what it sees as a fair fight, for a cause it believes in. Just that it was a difference of views. A socialist could concede that markets have virtues; a conservative might admit that reforms were necessary. That recognition created space for rapprochement, bipartisanship, and compromise. Politics could be adversarial without being annihilatory. This was recognition that democracy thrives not when one camp annihilates the other, but when adversaries leave a window open to cooperation.

This equilibrium held until the mid-20th century. The Second World War introduced a new moral framing: Hitler became the embodiment of evil, Nazism the ideology of pure darkness, and the Allies the forces of light. Of course, the Nazi regime committed monstrous crimes. But what was different was the way the conflict was narrated afterwards – as an absolute moral contest between Good and Evil. Other equally destructive leaders – Augusto Pinochet in Latin America, Idi Amin in Africa, Pol Pot in Asia, and Nicolae Ceaușescu in Europe – committed horrendous crimes but were not demonised in the same way. The binary of Good Vs. Evil soon became the template for global politics.

The Cold War was framed as a moral struggle between ‘open societies’ and their ‘enemies’. Later, Saddam Hussein was cast as part of an ‘axis of evil,’ while America claimed to embody righteousness. Bashar al-Assad was demonised, while radical Islamist groups opposing him were sometimes represented as the ‘good’. Today, Russia and China are painted in broad strokes as malign shadows, while America and Europe project themselves as custodians of virtue. When every adversary is labelled a Nazi and evil, the word itself loses meaning – and dialogue becomes impossible.

This binary has now metastasised into domestic politics in several societies, resulting in sharp polarisation. The oldest democracy, the United States, is trapped in a duel between two absolutist camps. The Woke movement sees itself as a crusade for justice, dismissing its critics as reactionaries. The MAGA movement sees itself as defending the ‘real America,’ dismissing opponents as traitors. Each side paints the other not merely as mistaken but as malevolent. The result is paralysis, tribal hatred, and civic decay. And America is not alone. Across the world, societies are splitting into rival camps where every debate is cast as an existential fight between light and darkness. The tragedy is that while we squander our energies demonising each other, the true challenges of our age go unaddressed. Climate change, pandemics, artificial intelligence, inequality, migration, food insecurity: these do not respect ideological borders. They demand pragmatism, cooperation, and the humility to admit that no single ideology has all the answers. Yet, if we remain trapped in the binary, we will be too busy fighting shadows to confront the fires raging around us. Our real enemies are not each other, but the crises that threaten our shared future.

History offers us reminders of what is possible when adversaries step out of the binary trap. Post-war Europe was rebuilt not only by victors punishing losers but also by reconciliation. India’s early years of independence saw ideological rivals sparring fiercely yet often finding common ground in nation-building. Even during the Cold War, moments of détente were carved out to reduce the risk of annihilation. To reclaim that spirit requires courage, not outrage to shout louder, but the courage to listen. The mark of a mature polity is not unanimity, but the ability to accommodate difference without splintering into warring camps. The challenge is to reclaim civic dignity in public discourse. Leaders, across all walks of life, must resist the temptation of moral absolutism and remind themselves, constantly, that those who oppose our ideas are not enemies, but fellow citizens with a different viewpoint. Politics must become a space of shared problem-solving, not existential conflict.

History’s greatest tragedies were not born of disagreement, but by ‘Us’ refusing to see the humanity in ‘Them’.

(The writer is the former civil servant enjoys traversing the myriad spaces of ideas, thinkers, and books)

(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.)