Be the Dictator
In Ten Easy Steps
By John Perkins
I decided to spend part of my 4th of July weekend in Fantasy Park. I’d heard about the new Be the Dictator ride and couldn’t resist. Although the line was extremely long, I paid four times the regular price for a “Big Donor" ticket. A young woman wearing a “Press Secretary” medallion escorted me to the front and helped me board a small vehicle that resembled a private jet. The words “Air Plane #1” were stenciled along the fuselage.
We (the vehicle and I) rolled forward, splashed down a ramp to a canal, and glided into a tunnel labeled 10 Steps to Dictatorship. Although clearly on rails, the movement felt disturbingly real.
The Press Secretary smiled, tapped a microphone pinned to her blazer, and recited a practiced welcome in a smooth, polished voice:
“Welcome aboard Be the Dictator. This is a fully immersive, first-person leadership experience. Please keep your hands inside the power structure at all times. By proceeding, you consent to absolute authority.“
Rounding a corner, we paused in front of a podium. A man with a distinctive comb-over hair style and a thin Hitleresque mustache stood behind it.“Elect me,” he proclaimed, "and I guarantee that every citizen will become a billionaire and get a free first-class seat on a space cruiser to the moon.”
Another man stepped out from behind him, cupped his hands to his mouth, and stage whispered loudly,
Step One: Promise whatever it takes to get elected.
As we pulled away, both men flickered – Holograms.
Without warning, we plunged into a sharp bone-jolting dive. A huge building appeared below – the Pentagon. We descended, passed through an opening in the roof, and I found myself face-to-face with six men in six different military uniforms. They held their right hands to their hearts and recited, “I pledge allegiance to the flag and to the Republic for which it stands. . .”
A voice interrupted them. “You’re fired!”
The officers raised their hands in surrender and vanished.
Six new men appeared. Dressed in look-alike dark business suits and red ties, they recited, “I pledge allegiance to the flag and to the one supreme leader for which it stands.”
Words appeared over their heads:
Step Two: Replace military leadership with loyalists. Purge dissent.
Rising out of the Pentagon, we crossed the Potomac River and hovered above Washington DC. A dozen men and women in business attire stumbled out of federal buildings. They were slouched over, shaking their lowered heads and looking dazed. I heard murmurs of “unprecedented,” “totally illegal," and “what's happening to this country I love?”
They were followed by hundreds of others who exited the buildings. Some were crying. Some hugged each other. Others shook their fists at the sky – at me. A voice boomed:
Step Three: Fire experienced agency heads. Dismantle the civil service. Lay off skilled and knowledgeable workers.
We soared upward. As though from a satellite, I looked down at the rotating earth. Flags marked with “Embassy” protruded from buildings in just about every country.
As I watched, the flags fell and the buildings collapsed and disappeared. The destruction began in the Middle East and expanded into African and Latin America. Then Asia and finally Europe. By the time we had completed our second trip around the planet, all were gone. A voice announced:
Step Four: Terminate all foreign service departments, the diplomatic corps, and developmental and humanitarian aid. Replace them with threats and economic hit men.
My vehicle paused before a large TV screen where a man appeared. Below him was the caption, FBI director Robert Mueller. He looked directly at me and said:
“Some believe that organized crime is a thing of the past. Unfortunately, this is not the case. . .We have seen a shift from regional families with a clear structure, to flat, fluid networks with global reach. They are running multi-national, multi-billion dollar schemes from start to finish. They may be former members of nation-state governments, security services, or the military. They are capitalists and entrepreneurs.”
The FBI Director was replaced by a headline:
Step Five: Partner with criminal elites and autocrats. Lead a global oligarchy. Amass wealth and impunity.
We moved on to a room that resembled the White House’s Oval Office. I found myself sitting behind a large desk, facing a room full of standing people who wore an assortment of name tags: Senator, State Representative, Governor, Agency Head, CEO, Press, and Lawyer.
A gruff voice intoned: “ If you dare stand against me, I’ll destroy you.”
The people dropped to their knees and bowed their foreheads to the floor in subjugation. Words appeared above them:
Step Six: Intimidate everyone. Destroy critics. Cultivate fear.
My vehicle exited the office and traveled along a city street, through an archway that was crowned with a shield-like sign “Welcome to the University” and into a courtyard surrounded by ivy-covered brick buildings. On the nearest edifice a placard stated “Scientific Research.” Without warning, the building collapsed, as though a demolition crew had imploded it. One after another, every building in the courtyard fell.
Several men and women in plain brown uniforms and black boots goose-stepped into the courtyard that was swirling with dust and debris. They carried a furled flag, stuck it in the ground in the center of the courtyard, and hoisted it in a scene reminiscent of the statue of Marines raising a US flag after the Battle of Iwo Jima.
The flag unfurled and expanded across my line of vision. It read:
Step Seven: Discredit education. Undermine Science. Replace fact with propaganda.
Leaving the rubbled courtyard where only the flag was left standing, we rose above a huge stadium. Inside, thousands of people were prodded by soldiers in camouflage uniforms toward four doors at the far end. Hundreds of soldiers who brandished assault rifles were positioned along the top of the stadium and on platforms overlooking the crowd. We dropped lower to a point where I could read signs above the doors. Each was different from the others. They said: Brown-eyed, Big-eared, Left-handed, Non Citizens.
More soldiers stood beside guard boxes labeled "Inspectors." They examined each of the people as they came to the front of the line, peered into their eyes, checked their ears and hands, and demanded to see their papers. Then they shoved each person through one of the four doors.
We rose over the stadium wall. Outside, a line of windowless buses stretched far behind each of the doors. Flashing neon signs along their sides indicated their destinations: Deportation, Prison, Rehabilitation Camp, and Unknown. Guards brutally pushed people into the buses.
I was horrified to see that families were separated. Mothers and children screamed, wailed, and tried desperately to get to each other. Men who resisted were beaten savagely. After each bus was full, it drove away and into a dark tunnel. Above the entrance was a sign that read:
Step Eight: Demonize the "other." Weaponize identity. Crush any who do not conform to your beliefs.
My vehicle took a dizzying turn and plunged into darkness. An ear-splitting cacophony of drums echoed off the walls. Then came trumpets and a military band playing "Hail to the Chief.”
The man in a business suit, combed-over blondish hair, and a Hitleresque mustache reappeared. He was standing behind his podium in front of a giant TV screen that flashed scenes of airplanes dropping bombs, drones firing missiles, and police officers in riot gear breaking down doors and dragging people from their homes.
The man raised his hands in a gesture that demanded quiet. He frowned. “Our nation,” he said, “is under a grave threat . Therefore I’ve ordered our military to annihilate our enemies. Habeas corpus is suspended. Martial law is now in effect.” He grinned. “I will do whatever it takes to destroy any who stand against me.” He gave a thumbs-up and ended with, “God bless our nation, the greatest in the world.”
He turned and slowly walked away and was replaced by the words:
Step Nine: Create enemies. Start wars. Defy the laws of the land.
We followed him past the statue of a blindfolded woman who held a sword in one hand and a set of scales in the other. A voice proclaimed, “Lady Justice welcomes you.”
A large oak door opened to a magnificent room with a high ceiling, marble columns, elongated windows bordered by luxurious velvet drapes, and rows of red-backed seats. At the far end, a curved ornate mahogany judges’ bench dominated the room It had to be the Supreme Court chamber.
He strolled up to the bench and faced the nine judges in their long black robes who were seated behind it.
“As you can see,” he said glaring defiantly at them, “I have been one hundred percent successful at guaranteeing that every citizen will become a billionaire and be gifted with a free ride to the moon on a luxury spacecruiser. Now that our glorious nation is under a severe threat, you will agree to nullify the 22nd Amendment. I will serve as president for life.” His mustache curved into a fiendish grin, “or else. . .”
Step Ten: Back up lies with more lies. Keep repeating that you are always right. Control the courts.
We pulled out of the tunnel and my vehicle came to a stop. The woman with the “Press Secretary” medallion helped me step out. She handed me a rolled up scroll of paper and said, "Have a great day.”
When I emerged into daylight, I unrolled the scroll and read:
Congratulations. You have successfully completed Be the Dictator. You are qualified to take the next step. All that remains is your signature:
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