emmanuel reynaud holy virility the social construction of masculinity

There is never a human being at the top, 'supreme power' is
never concentrated in one man, it is only delegated to
representatives. All the masters of history, even the most
powerful, have always paid for their power with submission of
some kind; thus, the feudal lords, who crushed their vassals
and sapped the lives of their serfs, had to bow to the authority
of their king, who, in turn, through the church, was subject to
his god, who ultimately only existed nailed to a cross.
All leaders must inevitably respect oaths of allegiance and make
various sacrifices; besides, they only hold what is a small
fragment of power. All men endeavour to increase their own
portion, they are engaged in endless fights, and the strongest
even try to eliminate each other, in the vain hope that they will
no longer have to share their power. During these combats, all
is fair ―from political murder to world war― and in their quest
for total power, the leaders are never guarded against their own
weaknesses, against a military defeat or against the
assassination which awaits them.
[102 / Holy virility]
The power of the 'greatest' has always been precarious; they
tried to establish their power in blood but often came to a quick
and wretched end. And so Alexander died of malaria in Babylon
when he was barely 33, Napoleon perished alone in the South
Atlantic like an abandoned dog, and Caesar, who thought
hierarchy had nothing to offer unless viewed from above ―'I'd
rather be first in this village than second in Rome'― was
stabbed 23 times. As for the new masters, their power is nο
more assured than was that of their predecessors: it always
hangs by a thread. When they are not dependent on the
constant jiggery-pokery and the hazard of purges inside a
central committee, they unfailingly lay themselves open to the
inefficiency of their bodyguards, the clumsiness of their
television make-up or the consequences of a badly orchestrated
campaign.
Whatever the dangers and difficulties he has to face, man
generally sets his heart on becoming boss at any price: the
pettiness of the great rarely puts him off, and as a rule he will
stop at nothing to increase his share of power. Through the
ages, his thirst for power has been the source of a long river of
blood, which, thanks to the enormous technological
developments of the last few years, flows at an increasingly
rapid rate (first world war: about 9 million dead; second world
war: more than 40 million dead). But modern heroes know how
to do things in style, and on the day of victory, as often as not,
they shroud themselves in the mantle of civilisation;
Eisenhower, for exampie, on being granted the freedom of the
City of London in July 1945, declared with style: «Modesty must
be the natural reaction of the man who receives acclaim that
cost him the blood of his subordinates and the sacrifice of his
friends.» Which still did not stop him from parading in his
general's uniform ―modesty had doubtless effaced the blood
stains. Today's generation of leaders ―who can, at will, blow up