The reason of crowds

When the fashions change, I change my mind - what do you do, sir?

In his book How to Be a Dictator, Frank Dikötter described the moment in 1989 when Romania’s feared dictatorship came crashing down.

‘On 21 December, Nicolae Ceaușescu appeared on the balcony of the party headquarters in the centre of Bucharest, flanked by the entire apparatus, to address a mass rally organised in support of the regime. For once the assembled crowd failed to cheer him. Within minutes, people at the back began whistling and jeering. He raised his hand, demanding silence, repeatedly tapping the microphone. The unrest continued. Ceaușescu looked stunned. His wife leaned forward, lecturing the crowd: “Stay quiet! What is wrong with you?” Ceaușescu decided to plough on with his speech, in a hoarse, frail voice trying to placate the demonstrators by offering to increase the minimum wage. But he had faltered. With the fear gone, the rally turned into a riot…. The speech was broadcast live. As soon as the transmission went black, everyone recognised that a revolution was unfolding.’

The Romanian revolution is often cited as an example of what economist Timur Kuran called the ‘preference falsification cascade’ in his book Private Truths, Public Lies. In any regime where there are penalties for dissenting opinions, large numbers will mask their true feelings, and in doing so will encourage others to believe that their opinions are unusual and extreme – when, in reality, millions feel the same. Most people hated life under communism, but who’s going to be the first one to say so? After you, comrade!

Hands up who likes me

The cascade occurs when sufficient numbers overcome their fear of retribution and proclaim what they really believe, triggering others to do so - until the system collapses, far quicker than anyone anticipated. Four days later, having lost control of the army, Ceaușescu and his wife were executed.

I’ve mentioned this curious incident before, a vivid case study of the human tendency to conceal our true feelings until we feel safe to do so. Almost no one foresaw the fall of the Romanian leader until it happened, because there are few mechanisms within a dictatorship to pick up the correct signals of public opinion.

Romania was not the only example. Alexis de Tocqueville described how in revolutionary France, ‘those who kept the old faith worried they would be the last to remain faithful. Fearing isolation more than error, they joined the crowd without thinking like it. The sentiments of what was still only a part of the nation therefore seemed the opinion of all, and appeared irresistible to the very people who had given it this false appearance.’ They were masking their true feelings, and when the revolutionary regime lost its grip, a cascade followed, and a vicious White Terror.

There’s also a phenomenon in which people late to embrace the winning side become its most fervent supporters. In the Algerian War they became known as the ‘March people’, marsiens, since it was in March 1961 that it became clear that the French were leaving and the FLN would win. These previously apolitical late joiners were responsible for some of the most hideous violence afterwards, but they never were, in fact, pro-French – they just didn’t want to fall out with the authorities. Most people don’t.