Strongman or Servant?
We are in a time when we need to reimagine leadership. Whether in our politics or in the church, I think many of us would agree that leadership in its current forms is falling short. When leadership fails, everyone feels it. Too many leaders at the top get drunk on power, bend rules to their advantage, and convince themselves they’re untouchable. When leaders are toxic, communities pay the price.
Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche once described the “strongman” ideal — a leader who rises above morality, who makes his own rules, who uses sheer will to dominate. That image has crept into modern politics and culture. In fact, I’d say it’s the vision that shapes our political leadership. I’ve been reading Ezekiel lately. He saw the danger of strongman leadership long before Nietzsche: when leaders cast off limits, they destroy the very people they’re meant to protect.
Ezekiel lived through the collapse of Judah. His nation had been crushed, his people exiled, and he knew why: the kings of Judah had devoured instead of defended, enriched themselves while the vulnerable suffered. In the disorientation of loss and exile, God gave him a strange and hopeful vision. It was reimagined leadership not of another strongman, but of a prince.
This “prince” in Ezekiel 45–46 is unlike any king before him. His power is limited as the title suggests:
He funds sacrifices on behalf of the people, but he does not control the temple.
He is forbidden from seizing land, a direct check against exploitation.
He takes part in worship almost like a priest, but always within boundaries. His role is to support holiness, not to bend it to his advantage.
It’s a radical re-imagination of leadership. The old strongman model had led to corruption and idolatry. The prince exists within limits, accountable to the people and to God. His job is not to dominate but to preserve justice, safeguard holiness, and provide for the community.
That vision still matters. Healthy leadership always works within boundaries of power. Those limits are in the law of God as well as the American constitution. Limits aren’t a threat to leadership. They’re what keep it communal and life-giving. When leaders see themselves as above those limits, they slip into the toxic strongman model Ezekiel condemned: grabbing, exploiting, and consuming rather than serving.
Christians historically have read this vision of the prince as pointing forward to Jesus, the true Servant-King. His authority didn’t come from crushing enemies or cutting deals, but from laying down His life for the sheep. If God’s kingdom is built on cruciform leadership, then any model that thrives on domination or self-preservation is counterfeit. Do our leader’s political memes and messages look like the strongman or the servant?
Today I see a lot of critique of leadership and rightly so. But often that critique comes from a the strongman framework Nietzsche promoted not the servant leader Jesus modeled. Both sides of our two party system have embraced the strongman vision. Too often we get caught up in that mess. So maybe the question for us today isn’t only about the leaders we critique, but the leaders we crave. Do I secretly resonate with the strongman vision? Does my Christian critique just mask a desire for my party’s strongman over theirs? Or do I long for the servant — the one who leads within limits, who gives instead of grasps, who serves instead of exploits?
Until our desires change, our leaders won’t either. If we keep longing for the strongman, we’ll keep getting them. But if we learn to hunger for the servant, maybe our collective longing could shape the kind of leadership we choose in politics, in church, and in our homes.
Written by Doug Foltz