Leading with Vengeance

Leadership approaches are often shaped by personal experiences of injustice, with many leaders carrying deep wounds from past betrayals, marginalization, or perceived slights. It is natural for leaders –with power -- who have experienced personal harm to seek justice. However, when their pursuit for justice turns into a desire for revenge, their leadership becomes a means of settling personal scores. Leaders who lead from a place of vengeance risk allowing their grievances, perceived or otherwise, to dictate their decisions, turning power into a weapon rather than a tool for transformation. In doing so, they may not only alienate allies but also create environments of fear and division, ultimately undermining their own leadership and the very justice they seek.

Vengeance does not just corrupt the leader—it consumes them. When personal wounds dictate leadership choices, justice becomes secondary to revenge. This is when movements that once sought liberation turn into oppressive regimes, and leaders who once sought fairness become the very oppressors they once despised. Throughout history, leaders driven by personal resentment have used their power to punish those they perceive as enemies rather than to heal or unify.

Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe was initially celebrated as a liberator, but his leadership gradually became defined by an obsession with settling scores. His anger, first directed at colonial rulers, soon turned toward anyone who opposed him. Rather than using his power to rebuild Zimbabwe, he used it to retaliate—seizing land violently, suppressing dissent, and entrenching himself in power at all costs. His leadership exemplifies how personal grievances, when unchecked, can fuel authoritarian rule, leading to cycles of oppression and instability.

Pol Pot’s leadership in Cambodia was similar. While his ideology played a role in his brutal policies, his personal resentments—from academic failures, rejection, and a deep mistrust of intellectuals—drove much of his decision-making. His vengeance was not just against colonial influences but against anyone who seemed influenced by foreign powers. His regime wiped out nearly two million people, many of them educators and professionals, in what became one of the most extreme examples of leadership consumed by personal grievance.

The damage caused by vengeful leadership extends far beyond the immediate victims. Mugabe’s need for retribution devastated Zimbabwe’s economy and fractured its political landscape, while Pol Pot’s purges left Cambodia struggling to rebuild its institutions for generations. When leaders rule through vengeance, they not just harm those they see as enemies—they create wounds that entire societies must struggle to heal.

History also provides examples of leaders who faced deep personal injustice but refused to let their pain define their leadership. Martin Luther King Jr. faced relentless racism, imprisonment, threats, and eventually assassination. He had every reason to be bitter, and many in the civil rights movement—including Malcolm X in his early years—argued that forceful retaliation was the only path to justice. Yet King rejected vengeance. He understood that allowing personal pain to fuel leadership could lead to destructive outcomes, both personally and for the movement. Instead, he led with moral authority. He famously said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” His leadership was defined not by a need to punish those who oppressed him but by a vision of a future where justice and reconciliation coexisted.

Nelson Mandela’s story is particularly striking in this regard. After spending 27 years in prison under apartheid, he had every reason to seek vengeance against the white minority government that had oppressed Black South Africans. Instead, he chose to prioritize national healing. His leadership was not about making his oppressors feel the pain he had endured—it was about ensuring that no one else would have to suffer as he did. He seemed to live by Gandhi’s motto, “An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.” The Truth and Reconciliation Commission he championed ensured that South Africa could transition to democracy without descending into a bloody civil war.

Similarly, Liberia’s first female president, Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, had lived through exile, imprisonment, and political persecution. She could have used her leadership to punish those who had wronged her, but instead, she chose to stabilize her nation through dialogue and institution-building. "The future belongs to those who prepare for it today," she said—acknowledging that leadership must be forward-looking, not stuck in the bitterness of the past.

While figures like King, Mandela, and Sirleaf demonstrated the power of leading beyond personal grievance, their approaches did not erase all of their country's historical struggles or transform structures. The United States, Liberia, and South Africa still struggle with deep divisions and inequities. However, the restraint of these leaders then helped prevent even greater destruction at the time and provided frameworks for healing.

Every leader who has suffered personal injury faces a choice: to lead with the intent to heal or to lead with the intent to hurt. Those who choose vengeance may feel a sense of momentary satisfaction, but history shows that they ultimately fail—either because their leadership collapses under its own weight or because they leave behind a fractured society incapable of sustaining their legacy.

The question for today’s leaders—whether in politics, activism, or institutions—is this: Are we leading to heal from our own wounds, or are we leading to make others feel our pain? The answer will determine whether leadership becomes a force for justice or simply another cycle of destruction.

Leadership should never be about revenge. It should be about breaking destructive patterns and building something new—just, equitable, and enduring.