We are a nation of “Followers” waiting for a “Leader.”
From the cinema screen to the election booth, from the corporate boardroom to the family temple, the Indian psyche is hard-wired for Hero Worship. We don’t want a “System” that works; we want a “Strongman” who beats up the system.
This is the Cult of Personality. It is the surrender of our individual agency to a single “Great Man” (or woman) in the hope that they will fix our lives for us. It is the infantilization of a billion people.
Daddy Issues: The Savior Complex
The Indian psychological need for a “Father Figure” is profound.
We grew up in a culture where “Elder knows best,” and where obedience is the highest virtue. We carried this Paternalistic Virus into our politics. We are always looking for a “Daddy” to protect us, to tell us what to think, and to punish our enemies.
This is the Savior Complex. When we find a leader who matches our anxieties, we stop treating them as a public servant and start treating them as a Deity. We stop analyzing their policies and start defending their personality.
We become “Bhakts” or “Chamchas.” We lose our ability to criticize the leader because any critique of the leader feels like a critique of our own identity. We tether our self-worth to the success of a man who doesn’t even know our names.
A sovereign individual doesn’t need a savior. A sovereign individual needs a Service Provider.
Hero Worship in Cinema
Our movies are not just entertainment; they are the Instruction Manuals for our political behavior.
For decades, Indian cinema has sold us the same story: The system is corrupt, the police are useless, and the laws are slow. But then, a “Hero” appears. He is strong, he is loud, and he solves everything with a punch or a powerful speech.
He bypasses the courts. He ignores the constitution. He uses violence to achieve “Justice.”
We cheer for him. We love him. And then we go out and look for the same “Angry Young Man” in real life. We have been trained by our movies to wait for a hero rather than to Take Action. We wait for the movie star to save the village, rather than building a sewage system or filing an RTI.
Cinema has made us a nation of spectators in our own democracy.
The Feudal Corporate
The cult of personality doesn’t end with politicians and actors. It defines the way we work.
Indian companies—even the modern, multi-billion dollar tech firms—are often run like Medieval Fiefdoms. We call it the “Lala” culture or the “Promoter” syndrome.
In these structures, the “Founder” is the King. His whim is law. Meritocracy is a slogan, but sycophancy is the reality. People are hired and fired not based on their “KPIs,” but on their “Loyalty” to the person at the top.
This is the Feudal Ceiling. It prevents the professionalization of the Indian workplace. It repels independent, high-agency talent and attracts “Yes-Men.” It ensures that the company can only grow as large as the founder’s personal capacity, rather than evolving into a self-sustaining institution.
Path 3 requires a shift from “Leader-Led” organizations to “Process-Led” organizations.
The Cost of Surrender
The price of the Cult of Personality is Institutional Decay.
When we worship a leader, we allow them to weaken the institutions that were built to check them. We look the other way when the Courts are intimidated, when the Media is silenced, and when the Bureaucracy is hollowed out.
We think, “It’s okay, because Our Leader is a good man.”
But leaders are temporary. Institutions are permanent. By surrendering our critical thinking to a single man, we are destroying the very machinery that will protect us when the next leader is a bad man.
The cult provides a temporary high—a feeling of pride and strength. But it leaves behind a hollowed-out Republic and a population that has forgotten how to think for itself.
The Verdict
The Sovereign Indian is a Critique-Engine.
You must learn to respect the Office, but never worship the Person. You must judge a leader not by their “Roar,” but by their “Results.” You must recognize that the most powerful person in a Republic is not the man on the stage, but the Citizen in the chair.
But even as we worship our leaders, we are addicted to another feeling. A feeling that makes us feel small, but also safe.
Let us look at the Religion of Victimhood.
