Not the cruelty of the few,

but the docility of the many.

(The Enigma of Obedience: How the Few Ruled the Many through the Myths of Superiority.)

In the history of human civilization, there exists a strange and almost mythical paradox—one that defies the rational mind and humiliates the claims of enlightenment. It is the enduring phenomenon by which a handful of individuals, by weaving a web of falsehoods, managed to dominate entire populations for millennia. Through the cunning invention of derogatory narratives and hierarchical myths, they divided humanity into fragments—some anointed as superior, others condemned to crawl at the margins of dignity. What astonishes the reflective mind even more is not merely the cruelty of the few, but the docility of the many. The subjugated accepted their inferiority with almost devotional submission, generation after generation, as if the chains on their minds were made not of iron, but of faith.

This enigma—how the majority came to internalize their own subordination—invites exploration not merely through history or sociology, but through the deeper corridors of psychology. What resides in the architecture of the human mind that makes obedience more natural than rebellion, conformity easier than consciousness?

The Genesis of Manufactured Superiority

At the dawn of social organization, power was raw, physical, and short-lived. But soon, the sharper minds among humans realized that fear is transient, while belief is eternal. A whip can only control the body, but a story can control the soul. Thus began the age of myth—where domination was justified not by might but by divine decree, cosmic order, or ancestral purity. The privileged few did not need to enslave; they only needed to narrate.

Every civilization, from the pyramids of Egypt to the caste pyramids of India, has at some point rested on this psychological architecture of imagined inequality. The rulers invented rituals of purity, genealogies of divine birth, and codes of conduct that appeared sacred but served only the profane purpose of control. By portraying subjugation as moral duty and hierarchy as cosmic truth, they accomplished the greatest feat of human manipulation: they made injustice appear natural.

The Psychology of Submission

To understand why the majority accepted such myths for thousands of years, one must turn to the dark recesses of social psychology. Stanley Milgram’s experiments in obedience at Yale in the 1960s demonstrated that ordinary people could inflict pain upon others merely because an authority figure told them to do so. Similarly, Solomon Asch’s conformity experiments revealed that individuals would knowingly deny the evidence of their senses to align with the majority opinion. The lesson from these studies is chilling: the human mind is biologically predisposed to submit to authority and to avoid social friction at almost any cost.

When authority clothes itself in sanctity, and hierarchy masquerades as moral truth, the submission becomes not just compliance—it becomes worship. Across centuries, humans have preferred the comfort of belonging to the terror of thought. In the psychology of survival, rebellion is costly, but conformity brings acceptance, food, and social warmth. The cost of questioning becomes existential. Thus, oppression, when sanctified by tradition, is not felt as pain—it becomes identity.

The Social Illusion of Order

Societies often justify inequality by confusing order with justice. Hierarchical systems—whether of class, caste, or creed—promise stability, predictability, and meaning. They give individuals a pre-defined place in the cosmic drama, however humiliating that place might be. The poor are told that their suffering is a test; the subjugated are assured that their obedience earns spiritual merit; the oppressed are promised redemption in another life.

This psychological mechanism transforms hierarchy into habit, and habit into holiness. Once codified into ritual and reinforced by generations of repetition, even the oppressed begin to defend their own subjugation. They become custodians of their chains. The master no longer needs the sword when the slave polices his own boundaries.

Cognitive Dissonance and the Myth of Acceptance

Psychologists describe “cognitive dissonance” as the discomfort the mind experiences when holding two contradictory beliefs. To resolve this discomfort, individuals alter one belief to fit the other. When born into a system that proclaims one’s inferiority as natural, a person faces a painful choice: either believe that the system is unjust, or accept that one’s suffering has purpose. To protect mental equilibrium, many choose the latter. Thus, the oppressed internalize the logic of their oppression to avoid the unbearable weight of awareness.

This explains why revolutions are so rare, and reform so gradual. It is not ignorance alone that sustains tyranny—it is the psychological need for coherence, the human craving for meaning even in degradation. The mind prefers a cruel certainty to a chaotic freedom.

The Seduction of Moral Superiority

The oppressor too is imprisoned by psychology. To sustain domination, he must believe in his own righteousness. History’s tyrants—whether kings or priests, conquerors or caste lords—seldom saw themselves as villains. They justified their privilege through divine mandate, racial destiny, or moral superiority. Psychologically, this is known as the “just-world hypothesis”—the belief that the world is fair, and that people deserve their position in it. It absolves conscience and sanctifies cruelty.

Religion, tradition, and ideology then become anesthetics to empathy. The dominator feels virtuous, and the dominated feels sinful. A perfect equilibrium of injustice prevails, maintained not by swords, but by shared delusion.

The Neuroscience of Collective Conditioning

Modern neuroscience offers deeper clues. Studies in neuroplasticity show that repeated narratives and rituals literally rewire the brain’s neural circuits. A child who grows up hearing that his group is inferior will, over time, experience that inferiority not merely as belief but as emotion, as reflex. His brain learns humiliation as habit. Society, therefore, is not only a structure outside us—it is an imprint within us.

Through this biological inscription, inequality becomes self-perpetuating. The oppressor no longer needs to indoctrinate each generation; the mind of the dominated becomes the cathedral of subservience.

The Silent Rebellion of Awareness

And yet, history also records moments when the spell breaks. A Buddha rejects the caste of his birth. A slave dreams of freedom. A woman reads forbidden words. In those fragile moments of consciousness, the human spirit reclaims its native dignity. Awareness is the only solvent of inherited falsehood. When individuals begin to see the narrative for what it is—a lie fossilized into custom—the psychological walls begin to crack.

Education, reason, and empathy are the slow tools of liberation. The emancipation of the mind precedes the emancipation of the body. But such awakenings are rare and fragile, for the forces of inertia, comfort, and tradition are vast.

The Unfinished Question

Why did humanity tolerate such myths for so long? Perhaps because consciousness itself is a late bloom in the evolutionary garden. For most of history, survival, not truth, was the governing instinct. To question was to risk exile, hunger, and death. Thus, obedience became adaptive. The mind that once learned to bow for survival now continues to bow for custom.

The real enigma, then, is not that a few ruled the many—it is that the many believed they deserved to be ruled.

And yet, within this tragic continuity, there flickers an immortal hope: that each generation, through reflection and courage, might unlearn a fraction of its inherited submission. The journey of civilization, at its noblest, is nothing but the gradual disintegration of the great lie—that some are born to kneel, and others to command.