Pride comes before a fall (24.03.2026)

Pride comes before a Fall

There is something of the Greek tragic hero about Trump, and if I’m right, the end is not going to be good.

In classic Greek tragedy, the tragic hero is usually a person of high position whose downfall is triggered by a fatal error of judgement. This error is nearly always hubris, extreme pride and overconfidence and the downfall is enacted by the gods. In modern times, we usually see the established norms of society doing the work of the gods and enacting justice.

Trump’s actions at home and abroad (his ‘excursion’ into Iran, for example), have the hallmarks of the hubris-nemesis dynamic. Simply put, this is a combination of arrogance and a vengeful desire to humiliate and defeat an adversary.

The Greek tragic hero is usually a person that has some sort of greatness about them - think of Oedipus or Agamenon – and though I struggle to use the word ‘great’ to describe Trump, he does have the gift of ‘authenticity’, which is rare in modern politics. It is what many people like about him and why they are willing to listen to him; he is not one of the ‘intellectual elites’.

This sense of one’s own greatness is a form of hubris, and hubris is not only an overestimation of one’s uniqueness, but also a ‘loss of contact with reality’. There is, in fact, a psychological syndrome in politics called ‘the hubris syndrome’ which marries an unwarranted belief that one is always right with an over identification with the nation. We see this in historical leaders from Hitler to Mao who believed their interests were the same as the nation’s. We also see it in Trump who often switches between ‘we’ and ‘I’ when talking about the USA. In his America First speech, he said ‘I will view as president the world through the clear lens of American interests. I will be America's greatest defender and most loyal champion. We will not apologize for becoming successful again...’. Such talk might start as rhetoric, but it nearly always ends with conceit.

Now, the dynamic tragic hero isn’t merely arrogant, he often cast themselves as the opponent of someone else. This is called the hubris-nemesis complex and Trump is an excellent example. We know from his speeches that he considers himself the avenger against an array of enemies such as the ‘elites’ or the ‘radical left lunatics’, and against the ‘evil’ regime of the Ayatollahs. His grandiosity is mixed with a mission of retribution, and this empowers him to act without due recourse to practicality, cost or any realistic outcome. To this is added defiance and threats, and an expectation that others will sacrifice everything to share in the fight he has created for them. 

In Greek tragedy, the hero’s hubris provokes the goddess of retribution (Nemesis) to teach him a lesson by causing such suffering that the hero finally recognizes his limitations (in other words, his humanity), and equilibrium is restored. This reversal of fortune is nearly always catastrophic, and it is never the result of bad luck. The point of the narrative arc is that the hero recognizes and bears the responsibility of his demise. When Oedipus learns that he killed his father and married his mother, he blinds himself and goes into exile, but this is not before the people suffer a plague and his mother/wife kills herself.

Trump isn’t Oedipus, but it is almost guaranteed that his fall will come.  Whether he will learn from the experience is a moot question. His reckless and impulsive nature, his parking of rational thought and alienation of those around him, may entrench him in self-justification. 

Modern history supports this view; it seldom offers us the catharsis of Greek tragedy. In the days before he committed suicide, Hitler blamed his military commanders, calling them ‘treacherous and incompetent’ and asked for the war to continue. Before his execution, Saddam Hussein denied remorse and said he had fought against aggression.  Colonel Gaddafi died believing he had been a good leader and that his people supported him still.

Yet in Aristotle’s model of tragedy, the hero’s journey ends in anagnorisis, that is, a moment of insight. This moment of self-awareness is necessary to establish order but usually comes too late to change the course of events.

Even if the Trumps of this world fail to own the disaster they have brought upon themselves, their hubris is broken by society: political alliances crumple, elections are lost, their base abandon them. This should stand as a warning against those who eschew self-restraint and a respect for others.

Today, as in Greek tragedy, pride always comes before a fall.