Stoicism, Augustine, Nietzsche, and Trump, between Reason and the Desire to Dominate

Introduction Stoicism, the ancient philosophy that seeks serenity and tranquillity through rational mastery of the passions, has taken on a markedly new meaning in our own time. Rooted in ideals of self-mastery and self-sufficiency, embodied in the concepts of ataraxia (tranquillity of the soul) and apatheia (freedom from emotional disturbance), Stoicism has re-emerged as a path for many who seek a more balanced life, undisturbed by external upheaval, the pressure to achieve social media fame, or wars waged with weapons, threats, tariffs, or embargoes. In an increasingly fragmented and volatile world, in which even algorithms have become “interlocutors” in human experience and a recourse for those who say they have no time for slow reading, it is hardly surprising that Stoicism has found new life. The promise of a life in which one's inner core stays intact through every storm seems alluring, especially as external conditions grow more challenging and unpredictable. Yet this contemporary revival of Stoicism, for all its adherents, also invites us to reflect on its limitations and the challenges it poses to a fully human life. The pursuit of unshakeable serenity, often unaccompanied by an acknowledgment of our frailties and mutual dependence, can lead us away from a deeper, existential understanding of our condition. At a time when control over what we feel and think has become a social imperative, might the ideal of rigid mastery over the passions, so prized by the Stoics, become a denial of the more vulnerable side of our humanity? Have the speakers on social media mastered the techniques and exercises that can lead to a virtuous life? Are they familiar with the interlocutors of ancient Stoicism itself? Every philosophical position risks falling into dogmatism, the sleep of reason, to recall Kant's expression, when it is studied apart from the controversies and debates in which it arose. A fundamental criticism of the Stoic proposal emerges in Augustine's Christian philosophy. In examining the pursuit of self-sufficiency and absolute self-control, Augustine calls attention to the illusory nature of that goal. The Stoic ideal ignores the actual human condition (recall how profoundly Augustine expanded the idea of interiority), marked by the Fall and the corruption of desire (libido). It also serves as a mask for a spiritual pride that prevents us from acknowledging human frailty and our need for divine grace. This is an interesting idea even if we do not embrace the Christian conception of grace. Alone and left to our own devices, we are incapable of mastering ourselves or making proper use of our rationality, given the power of desire, which inevitably directs the will toward its own objects. The Greek idea that the human being is a rational animal is itself unsettled when we consider the force of irrational desire. And if we look around the world, at our Brazil under attack from irrational tariffs or at the wars being fought elsewhere, it is easy to glimpse this desire in the workings of power, or to see the workings of a desire for that power. The concept of libido dominandi, which Augustine develops in his analysis of the corruption of the human will, offers, in my view, a powerful interpretive key to political and social behaviour in contemporary contexts, where the relentless pursuit of power and moral self-sufficiency still prevails. The attempt to dominate others, the world, or oneself appears to be a force that paradoxically reveals human powerlessness in the face of our fallen condition, in Augustine's terms, or of our wretched condition, in our own. I invite the reader to reflect on the tensions between the Stoic ideal of sovereignty over oneself and Augustine's critique, and on the enduring relevance of that critique to an analysis of power dynamics in contemporary politics. In particular, I believe that the study of philosophy cannot be separated from reflection on our own world and our own time. If a philosophical idea, concept, or work truly matters in its original context, it is because it somehow touches on aspects of human nature that seem to endure even as customs and eras change. Augustine, whether we like it or not, is a classic. And classics are immortal, which means simply that they still have the power to move and affect those of us who live in other times. Ultimately, at least in philosophy and literature, what becomes immortal is plainly the person's ideas, concepts, reflections, and power to reach beyond the surface of our consciousness. The person of flesh and blood passes away. I believe this is true of Augustine's concept of libido dominandi. It applies closely to recent political conduct, such as Donald Trump's protectionist policies and, in our own country, the actions of certain leaders and political families who, in power or close to it, put their country's present and future at risk while giving themselves over to an unbridled desire for self-preservation and self-assertion. In this ego-driven and contradictory process, we see a tragic reversal. As they seek to control the fate of their country and of others, they find themselves mastered by a dysfunctional will that corrupts both politics and the emotions of their followers, among whom it is easy to discern emotional vulnerability and a dearth of ideas. In a political context in which “freedom” and “sovereignty” are often invoked to justify actions that betray a desire for absolute control, libido dominandi manifests itself both in the decisions of leaders and in the power relations those decisions establish. The submission of followers who allow themselves to be drawn into this rhetoric of power and control is the most tragic aspect of the phenomenon. It is also the most human. Ironically, the pursuit of an ideal of sovereignty or independence ends up subjecting individuals to a form of emotional servitude. Control over another person or a situation turns out to conceal an even greater powerlessness, for in the world of power one's own libido becomes one's master. In reflecting on these questions, I want to show, in dialogue with the reader who has followed me this far, that the Stoic ideal of self-mastery cannot be attained without acknowledging human fallibility. True peace, I think, comes from accepting our dependence in the face of our own frailty, whereas rational self-mastery alone cannot produce it. Perhaps there is some real strength in that acknowledgment. For Augustine, this peace lay in acknowledging our dependence on divine grace. His critique goes far beyond a sweeping rejection of pagan philosophy and opens the way to a deep existential reflection on power, will, and genuine human freedom.

  Stoicism and Its Promises of Self-Sufficiency Founded by Zeno of Citium in the third century BCE, Stoicism developed a philosophy centred on self-mastery, rationality, and the pursuit of inner tranquillity, as I have said. Allow me to sketch its position in very general terms. According to the Stoic school, human nature has a distinctive capacity to achieve serenity through mastery of emotions and passions, which are regarded as sources of disturbance and irrationality. The ultimate aim of the Stoic sage is to attain ataraxia, a state of emotional imperturbability, through apatheia, which is the extinction of disordered passions such as fear, anger, unbridled desire, and envy. This philosophy, which proposes a self-sufficient form of life, rests on the conviction that reason is the only true guide to a virtuous life. The Stoic sage understands what is within their control, their own impressions, thoughts, and judgments, and serenely accepts what is external to them and therefore beyond their control. On this view, mastery of the passions combined with the cultivation of virtue is the key to true happiness. Notice that it is in the cultivation of virtue, or of the virtues, that we must understand philosophy as a way of life. This is also where the difficulties lie for a contemporary reader studying this ancient proposal, even though its core may, of course, still be revived. In its radical form, Stoicism holds that true freedom consists in releasing ourselves from dependence on external things such as wealth, health, fame, or political power. The sage fears neither death nor physical suffering, because their happiness depends on their command of their own mind, regardless of contingent circumstances. True freedom would thus be an inner freedom, immune to the fluctuations of fortune and independent of external conditions. The Stoic sage's ideal of self-sufficiency is in essence a proposal for complete autonomy. The wise individual is conceived as autarkic (self-sufficient), governing themselves entirely by reason and virtue. For the Stoics, the virtuous life is an ontological as well as an ethical matter. Virtue represents the fulfilment of human nature, the realization of the logos, the rational principle pervading the cosmic order. However, even if the quest for self-sufficiency seems to offer a path to serenity and inner freedom, in seeking total mastery of the passions and the will Stoicism constructs an ideal that disregards the vulnerability and fragility constitutive of the human condition. Taken to extremes, this ideal of sovereignty over oneself clashes with the deepest existential realities of human experience, such as the inner struggle between desire and reason, the fragility of human morality, and the inevitability of the Fall. This tension between the Stoic ideal and human reality will be explored more fully in Augustine's critique, which questions the viability and morality of such absolute self-mastery.

Augustine's Critique of Stoicism and Self-Sufficiency Augustine's critique of Stoicism is among the most penetrating and systematic critiques in his philosophy, especially when it comes to the ideal of self-sufficiency that runs throughout Stoic ethics. Augustine broadly recognizes the nobility of the Stoic pursuit of virtue and serenity, yet sees in it a moral fallacy and a metaphysical illusion. In his view the freedom Stoicism proposes, the attainment of ataraxia and perfect apatheia, is beyond the reach of human beings, whose will has been irreparably corrupted by the Fall. In De civitate Dei, Augustine critically examines Stoic thought, especially the self-sufficiency of the Stoic sage. For the Christian philosopher, true freedom resides in dependence on divine grace, whereas the Stoics locate it in reason's mastery of the passions. The human will, which in Stoicism seeks virtue through rational and natural means, is for Augustine wounded by original sin. Concupiscence, the legacy of the Fall, distorts human desires and feelings, making it impossible for human beings to attain true freedom and inner peace without God's intervention. Augustine's criticism is clear. In their fallen state, human beings cannot be self-sufficient. They are unable to master their passions and achieve self-mastery without divine help. For Augustine, the Stoic proposal to attain virtue and serenity through reason and personal effort alone is a form of spiritual pride. The person who tries to be their own master without acknowledging their dependence on God deceives themselves with an ideal of self-sufficiency that disguises the true human condition, its fallibility and need for redemption. Genuine virtue eludes them. Augustine sees self-sufficiency as a grave error, for it entails a refusal to acknowledge human wretchedness and the need for grace. In his view, true virtue is bound up with humility and the acknowledgment of human frailty, as opposed to the presumption that one can attain complete autonomy over the passions. True freedom, then, lies in submitting the will to the divine will, which leads to peace and genuine serenity. This is something that the Stoic sage, however virtuous their actions, cannot achieve without God's redeeming grace. Augustine's view calls into question the very foundation of the Stoic ideal, the full confidence that human beings are morally self-sustaining. Augustine proposes a path to redemption that requires humility and acknowledgment of one's own limitations. His critique of Stoicism accepts the pursuit of virtue and insists that it must rest on acknowledgment of human dependence on God, who alone, in his eyes, can restore true inner freedom.

Libido Dominandi as a Critique of a Corrupted Will Libido dominandi is a central concept in Augustine's philosophical anthropology. His penetrating analysis of the corruption of the human will underpins his critique of Stoicism and other philosophies that exalt human self-sufficiency. The expression libido dominandi, which can be accurately rendered as the “desire to dominate” or, on a particular interpretation, the will to power, the will to dominate, reveals the disordered impulse that springs from the human will corrupted by the Fall. This desire seeks power, control, and the subordination of others, the world, and even oneself, while justice and truth fall by the wayside. For Augustine, the human will is neither neutral nor pure. It is marked by concupiscence, a disordered inclination toward pleasure and self-gratification. This corruption of the will leads human beings, in their fallen state, to abandon the search for the absolute good or true freedom in favour of self-assertion and the relentless pursuit of dominion. The desire to dominate extends beyond power relations between individuals. It is a profound expression of the corrupted human will, which seeks control over others and also domination over its own being, in an attempt to conceal its frailty and dependence. Augustine's libido dominandi extends beyond the desire to dominate others physically or socially. It reaches into the attempt to control one's own life and feelings in a self-sufficient manner, as in Stoic ethics. As I have said, Stoicism pursues apatheia (imperturbability) and ataraxia (serenity) through self-mastery, and in Augustine's view it ultimately reflects the same libido dominandi, disguised under the cloak of reason. In trying to master their passions, the Stoic sage seeks to become self-sufficient, ignoring their frailty and dependence on grace, the corruption of their will, and their need for divine aid to restore true freedom. In De civitate Dei (V, 19), Augustine argues that the apparent peace of the Roman Empire results from the libido dominandi organized by political institutions, which maintain order through repression and the imposition of power. True virtue or justice plays no part in it. The empire's dominion over its subjects, presented as a model of order and stability, actually expresses the corruption of the human will, which disregards justice and seeks to impose power over others. Augustine's analysis is connected to his critique of the moral autonomy proposed by the Stoics. It shows that true freedom consists in recognizing human vulnerability and yielding the will to divine grace, whereas absolute control over passions and desires cannot make us free. The libido dominandi, then, is a critique of the desire for political and social power and also of the pretension to absolute control over one's own will, as though human beings could save themselves by their own efforts. For Augustine, libido dominandi, a corrupting force that distorts reason and the true pursuit of the good, means that the desire for power over others, the world, or oneself leads to the enslavement of the will. Peace and true freedom lie elsewhere. Anyone who seeks to master themselves without acknowledging their frailty and need for divine grace is enslaved by their own corrupted will, perpetuating a vicious cycle of desire and frustration. For Augustine, the only path to true freedom is the conversion of the will, which must be purified by divine grace and humility of heart.

  Nietzsche and the Will to Power as a Counterpoint Augustine's critique of human self-sufficiency and libido dominandi finds a fascinating counterpoint in the philosophy of Friedrich Nietzsche, who in Além do Bem e do Mal proposes that the will to power is the fundamental driving force of human life. Although both thinkers view the human will as frequently corrupted, they respond to the human condition and to the nature of power in profoundly different ways, reflecting their contrasting philosophical views on morality, freedom, and the existential condition of human beings.

 Notes on Some Similarities Augustine and Nietzsche both recognize that human nature is marked by a force of will that transcends instinctive desire or impulse. It is a will to affirmation, to power, and, at bottom, to domination. For Augustine, the libido dominandi is a manifestation of the corruption of the human will by the Fall, a will that seeks to assert itself against the divine order and results in conflict, suffering, and destruction. Likewise, Nietzsche sees the will to power as the primordial drive pervading the whole of human existence, although he understands it more affirmatively than Augustine. Both thinkers thus agree that true freedom cannot be attained simply by exercising rational or moral self-control, as in Stoicism. It is bound up with acknowledging the internal forces that move us, whether they are forces of domination, affirmation, or destruction. For Augustine, redemption and true freedom come from divine grace, which purifies the human will. For Nietzsche, true freedom is the capacity to affirm life in its entirety without submitting to traditional values or inherited morality.

  Differences The differences between Augustine and Nietzsche come into focus when we consider the nature of the will and the role transcendence plays in their respective philosophical systems.

  A Few Notes and Observations 1. The Human Condition Augustine sees the human being as a fallen creature whose will has been corrupted by original sin. The human will is therefore incurably inclined to error and evil, and salvation is possible only through divine intervention. The libido dominandi is for Augustine a manifestation of this corruption, a disordered will that distorts human nature and draws it away from true freedom, which lies in yielding to the divine will. Redemption comes only through grace, which restores the divine order in the human soul. Nietzsche, by contrast, understands human beings as creatures whose will to power is a primordial force that must be affirmed for life to be fully realized. The idea that they are fallen has no place in this view. For Nietzsche, the will to power is the very essence of human nature, whereas Augustine treats it as a corruption. Nietzsche rejects the notion of a universal or transcendent morality, arguing that Christian morality, which Augustine defends as the path to salvation, is a life-denying morality that represses the will to power. For Nietzsche, human beings must affirm their own lives, including in their struggle against traditional morality and their search for higher values springing from their own vital force.

2. The Question of Power For Augustine, the libido dominandi is negative because it is a desire for power that seeks only to assert the human ego and has no regard for justice or the good. The will corrupted by sin, according to Augustine, leads to enslavement and estrangement from God. True freedom is found in submission to the divine will and acknowledgment of human frailty. For Nietzsche, by contrast, the will to power carries no negative moral connotation. It is the vital force that drives human beings to overcome their limitations, seek new horizons, and create their own values. The Übermensch (overman), a central concept in Nietzsche's philosophy, represents the one who can transcend traditional values and affirm their own will, creating a new order of values and meanings. For Nietzsche, power is to be affirmed, since it is the condition of self-assertion and creation.

  3. The Response to the Fall Augustine sees the Fall as the reason human beings cannot trust their own will to attain true freedom. Redemption therefore depends on the grace of God, which heals the corrupted will, and lies beyond what the human will can achieve on its own. Nietzsche, by contrast, rejects the idea of a moral or spiritual fall of humanity. For him, human history is marked by a constant struggle between forces of affirmation and negation, and the only possible “redemption” is the self-assertion of the human will, which depends on the individual's will to power without recourse to anything transcendent or to divine assistance.

  4. Morality Augustine grounds his morality in Christian virtue and humility before God, holding that true freedom is freedom from the ego, which submits to the divine will. For him, Christian morality is a way to heal the libido dominandi and restore the true order. Nietzsche, by contrast, criticizes Christian morality as a “herd” morality that represses the will to power and fosters a negative view of life. He proposes a morality grounded in the affirmation of life and the overcoming of human limitations, challenging established norms and creating a new ethics that values autonomy and the affirmation of individuality. The comparison between Augustine and Nietzsche reveals two contrasting approaches to human power, will, and freedom. Where Augustine sees the human will as corrupted by the Fall and in need of redemption through divine grace, Nietzsche sees the will to power as a force essential to human existence that must be affirmed and cultivated. Augustine's critique of the libido dominandi as a disordered and corrupted will thus stands in contrast to Nietzsche's affirmation of the will to power as the vital and creative principle of human existence. Both thinkers nevertheless recognize power as a fundamental force in human life. Their responses to it and to its relationship with morality and transcendence reveal profoundly different visions of human nature and its destiny.

  In Dialogue with Contemporary Criticism Contemporary criticism of morality and the pursuit of power in political, economic, and social life resonates directly with the Augustinian and Nietzschean concepts of libido dominandi and the will to power. At a time of growing political polarization and rising populist and authoritarian leadership, the concepts of dominion, power, and control over the human will become especially relevant to understanding today's social and political dynamics.

The Reign of the Libido Dominandi in Contemporary Politics The concept of libido dominandi, developed by Augustine, applies closely to current observations about the authoritarian tendencies of contemporary political leaders. The desire for power, or libido dominandi, is clearly discernible in the practices of leaders such as Donald Trump and Jair Bolsonaro. Their administrations have often manifested a relentless pursuit of power and subordination of others to their will, mixing and conflating public interests with private ones or, in the Brazilian case, family interests. This dynamic characterizes the authoritarian aspects of contemporary politics and also exposes the vulnerability of these leaders to a form of “domination by the libido,” in which the desire for control and sovereignty ultimately turns against itself. Donald Trump's foreign policy, for example, sought to strengthen American power through protectionism and tariffs, yet also revealed an obsession with asserting global economic and political dominance. The political actor's conduct itself is driven by the sway of the libido. Yet as Augustine observes, an insatiable pursuit of power devoid of justice and humility ultimately creates a symbiotic relationship between the ruler and his own frailty. In Trump's case, sanctions and tariffs reflected a desire to subordinate other countries to the American will and at the same time exposed the United States' dependence on preserving its global leadership, a power that was ultimately eroded by domestic economic and political consequences.

  The same libido dominandi is apparent in the conduct of a Brazilian member of Congress on leave who, in seeking an ideological alliance with the United States under the Trump administration, displayed an emotional and political dependence on imperial power, or on the empire of power. Using foreign policy to please the American government or satisfy the family's desire (desiderium familiae) reflects servitude disguised as strategic loyalty, with little sign of a genuine desire for autonomy or strength. Putting one's own family before one's country already shows, beyond the conflation of public affairs with the family, which belongs to the domestic sphere, a disorder of desire, the passions, and emotions, as well as a dependence on power itself. Augustine would have recognized a moral vice in such conduct, a form of affective submission that prevents us from recognizing true freedom, which is attained only by overcoming the libido dominandi. A strategy for remaining in power is only the surface of it. The Nietzschean will to power also offers a framework for explaining the rise of neoliberalism and its austerity policies, which seek to impose a market logic on every sphere of social and political life. For Nietzsche, the will to power is the vital force that drives human beings to seek self-affirmation, self-sufficiency, and the overcoming of limitations. Yet applying this positive account of the will to power to contemporary neoliberal structures reveals a paradox. The pursuit of autonomy and the affirmation of the “individual” in modern capitalism frequently leads to greater inequality, exploitation, and social alienation. In the neoliberal context, the will to power seems to manifest itself in a cult of individuality and market freedom, yet that freedom is severely constrained in practice because it is bound up with capital accumulation and the perpetuation of inequality. In this sense, the will to power Nietzsche celebrated as a principle of self-overcoming becomes, in neoliberal policies, a force that concentrates power in the hands of a few, exacerbating social and economic divisions and subordinating most people to the logic of consumption and competition. Augustine's criticism of neoliberalism would be precisely that this will to power, in seeking autonomy without acknowledging human limitations and dependence on grace, leads to a form of slavery of the soul, beyond slavery of the body. In the absence of a morality grounded in justice, the pursuit of economic and political domination under neoliberalism ends up exploiting human frailties. True freedom and serenity remain out of reach. Finally, the tension between the Stoic pursuit of self-sufficiency and human fallibility takes on particular relevance in a context marked by existential crisis, growing anxiety, and social insecurity. The obsession with controlling one's emotions and attaining complete serenity, as prescribed by Stoic ideals, is increasingly embraced as a way of life in the modern world, especially in times of economic, political, and environmental crisis. Yet as Augustine would point out, this pursuit of absolute control is futile without acknowledging the finitude and fallibility of the human condition. Contemporary society, often influenced by ideologies of self-sufficiency and self-help, echoes the Stoic ideal of mastery over one's emotions. Augustine's words, however, warn of the illusory character of that ideal. True freedom comes from accepting our own frailty and yielding to what lies beyond human control: divine grace, or, in existential terms, acceptance of the inevitability of death and of human limitations. Rigid control over oneself cannot offer it. Augustine's critique of libido dominandi and his understanding of the human condition as essentially dependent on divine grace resonate strongly with the contemporary challenges we face, whether in the dynamics of political and economic power or in the demands for personal self-sufficiency. The concept of libido dominandi reveals the corruption of the human will and a misguided pursuit of freedom. The Nietzschean will to power, although life-affirming, reminds us of the pitfalls of a freedom that ignores the connections between human beings and the need for compassion and justice. The debate over controlling one's emotions and seeking self-sufficiency, so prominent in Stoic philosophy and in many contemporary philosophical currents, needs to be situated within a deeper understanding of human frailty, as Augustine proposes. This makes it possible to avoid existential alienation and to open a path to genuine freedom grounded in the acceptance of our condition as finite beings. If reason is only one of the forces competing for control of our bodies, intelligence, and emotions, we should at least pay attention to the opinions of others and to the true objects of their desires. Before we give our assent, it is essential to examine those claims critically. One good place to begin, for example, is with the concept of the patriot.

Alexandre H. Reis (teacher and student).