The Fragility of Liberalism

By Gillian Schutte

Liberalism parades as the apex of rational thought, the self-proclaimed guardian of justice, equality, and enlightenment. It demands recognition as the sensible centre, the measured alternative to supposedly chaotic extremes lurking on the fringes of left and right. Yet my own encounters with liberalism, both publicly and in personal contexts, have laid bare a truth less flattering: liberalism is not the paragon of neutrality or gentleness it professes to be. It is a hegemonic force, deeply entrenched in education, media, and everyday beliefs, passing itself off as rational common sense rather than a fiercely guarded ideology.

This pathology exposes its toxicity whenever liberal authority is questioned. Critics—whether radical leftists, right-wing sceptics, or anyone challenging the narrow liberal consensus—are never met with sincere debate but with dismissal, ridicule, and strategic silence. Liberalism excels at pathologising any idea that threatens its delicate equilibrium. It slaps dissenting voices with labels like “extremist,” “irrational,” or “unrealistic,” relieving itself of the burden of engagement. This psychological defence mechanism keeps its own contradictions hidden, sparing liberalism from the discomfort of admitting its complicity in sustaining inequality. Dissent becomes a personal failing rather than a legitimate response to structural injustice.

Systemic liberalism thrives through structural reinforcement. Its fingerprints are everywhere: in schools that distil complex struggles into moral lessons flattering liberal virtues; in media propaganda that whitewashes geopolitics, sparing audiences the brutal truth of Western interventionism; in public discourse that dismisses fundamental challenges to the status quo as absurd or inconceivable. While posing as a moral compass, liberalism manipulates information to present Western democracies as benevolent guardians of humanity, and obscene disparities of wealth or power as unfortunate accidents rather than calculated outcomes of a rigged global order.

This pervasive propaganda comforts liberals, assuring them that their worldview is universally rational, while weakening the intellectual defences of those subjected to it. Within families, workplaces, and friendships, even a modest attempt to scrutinise liberal dogma triggers immediate resistance. Critiques of capitalism’s predatory essence are dismissed as “negative.” Calls for decolonisation are condemned as “unfairly blaming the West.” Exposure of corporate profiteering behind both climate collapse and green colonialism is derided as “conspiracy talk.” Liberalism does not triumph through thoughtful persuasion. It secures obedience through hegemony—through the quiet normalisation of its assumptions as the only acceptable truth.

Privately, this ideological immune system becomes ever more vigilant. It is not enough to avoid overt political confrontation; one must not even entertain “menacing” perspectives. Articles challenging Western morality or neoliberal violence vanish into silence. Family members treat such interventions as social gaffes best ignored. This private dimension of liberalism does not need to refute critique; studied indifference suffices to ensure that radical ideas never penetrate its well-insulated worldview.

Such indifference is no accident. Systemic liberalism survives precisely because it crushes attempts to expose its internal decay. It presents itself as flexible and tolerant, while in practice smothering any line of thought that might threaten its foundations. Incremental reforms—trivial policy tweaks, polite nods to “diversity,” whispers of improvement—act as release valves, relieving pressure without ever challenging the architecture of oppression. Rather than dismantling harmful structures, liberalism decorates them, prolonging their existence by disarming potential revolt.

This structural liberalism extends its reach globally, weaponising narratives of “freedom” and “human rights” to obfuscate its geopolitical manoeuvres. Supported by its own media apparatuses, it recasts economic coercion, military aggression, and cultural domination as noble quests for democracy and stability. Non-liberal models of social organisation are depicted as deranged or malignant. Leftist propositions for dismantling profit-driven exploitation and right-wing populist challenges to liberal orthodoxy are alike treated as laughable, dangerous aberrations. Liberalism’s cunning lies in appearing moderate while crushing alternatives under a facade of reasoned discourse.

A psychoanalysis of liberalism reveals a mentality incapable of honest self-reflection. Acknowledging that its cherished freedoms frequently serve only entrenched elites, that its foreign interventions impoverish those it claims to uplift, or that its tolerance extends only to ideas preserving its legitimacy would shatter its fragile image. Thus, critics are painted as misguided or malevolent. Liberalism will not confront the violence at its core—the structural brutality underlying profit-centric economies, the cultural erasure of non-liberal histories—because doing so would rupture its carefully maintained illusions.

For anyone dwelling in public opposition to liberalism, the cost is unmistakable. Hostility, mockery, and silent ostracism are standard responses. Liberalism brands itself as progressive, yet it deploys the psychological arsenals of autocracy and orthodoxy. It pretends to value debate but treats alternative visions as heretical blasphemies to be quarantined. It feigns rationality while leaning on emotional deflection, identity politics, and hollow moralism to sustain its image.

The fragility of liberalism is precisely what makes it so relentless. Rather than confront its own hand in perpetuating injustice on a planetary scale, it attacks those who dare acknowledge it. Rather than admit that its principles serve power rather than people—defending corporate interests over communities, securing freedom for the privileged while the oppressed languish—it condemns critics for their audacity in challenging and resisting the charade. Through educational reinforcement of its virtues, media narratives excluding rival discourses, and social pressures curtailing critical engagement, liberalism ensures it remains a universal backdrop, an unquestioned frame against which all other ideologies are judged and found wanting.

The tragedy is that by masquerading as neutral and enlightened, liberalism stifles the possibility of genuine transformation. Its authority rests on appearing harmless while ruthlessly policing the boundaries of acceptable thought. Pathologising opposition, consolidating itself through propaganda, and blocking alternative visions—these are the hallmarks of its dominance. They do not indicate the absence of ideology but the triumph of one ideology declaring itself beyond scrutiny.

This power does not arise from superior logic or moral purity. It comes from controlling what can be said, who may speak, and which ideas survive in the public consciousness. Its cultivated reality ensures that any worldview challenging capitalist exploitation, imperialist interventions, or patriarchal supremacy is met with derision rather than debate. Liberalism’s defenders need not refute radical challenges; questioning the mental stability, moral integrity, or practicality of opponents suffices to reinforce liberalism’s veneer of rationality.

This is the quiet terror at liberalism’s core: it aligns itself with elite interests while decorating its intentions in the language of universal values. It preaches tolerance and progress while enabling corporate looting, militarised foreign policies, and environmental pillage. It may accept minor reforms, but it bars entry to paths leading to emancipation. In serving the empire, liberalism buttresses asymmetries of power behind a mask of sober reasonableness.

Rather than a bridge to a better world, it stands as a finely honed instrument in the imperialist arsenal, weaponised to secure mass exploitation, silence dissent, and ensure that genuine emancipation remains forever beyond reach.

* Gillian Schutte is a film-maker, and a well-known social justice and race-justice activist and public intellectual.

** The views expressed do not necessarily reflect the views of IOL or Independent Media.