Propaganda & media
How propaganda leverages historical myths and selective memory to create political legitimacy and mobilize supporters.
A careful examination of how political messaging harnesses past narratives, selective recollections, and mythic motifs to construct legitimacy, sustain mass appeal, and guide collective action in contemporary terrains.
Published by
Andrew Allen
July 31, 2025 - 3 min Read
In modern political discourse, propaganda often begins by tapping into inherited narratives that communities already trust, even if those narratives are simplified or contested. Leaders and strategists identify episodes from history that carry emotional resonance, such as collective victories, symbols of resilience, or episodes of humiliation that invite righteous response. By foregrounding these moments, they produce a sense of continuity between past struggles and present challenges. The appeal rests not on new facts, but on the impression that the present is a natural extension of a meaningful, preexisting story. This entrenchment of narrative lines shapes public perception and constrains alternative interpretations before discussions begin.
To sharpen this effect, propagandists employ selective memory, highlighting only details that support a preferred outcome while omitting inconvenient complexities. Memory is curated through speeches, media coverage, and school curricula to favor a single arc: grievance, mobilization, triumph. Such curation often recycles images of great achievements alongside simplified villain profiles, making complex causes appear straightforward. The danger lies in turning historical ambiguity into moral clarity, which reduces citizens’ capacity to question policy rationales. When people encounter a streamlined history repeatedly, they internalize it as a factual guide, not a contested construction open to debate.
Selective memory crafts a persuasive bridge from past to present through ritual repetition.
Myths function as mnemonic devices that make political objectives feel ancient and universal, rather than temporary and contingent. They anchor legitimacy by presenting leadership as the rightful heir to venerable traditions, even when policies diverge from those traditions in practice. Myths simplify governance into a drama with clear villains and virtuous protagonists, encouraging audiences to identify with a heroic national narrative. In doing so, propaganda transcends information exchange and becomes a ritual act that reaffirms loyalty and obedience. People participate not solely because they agree, but because alignment with a timeless story offers personal security and meaning.
The process often relies on symbols, rituals, and commemorations that repeatedly connect voters to a shared cause. Annual holidays, monuments, and familiar slogans reappear in news cycles, reinforcing the impression that citizens are part of something larger than themselves. This repetition produces a bandwagon effect: individuals feel compelled to join the consensus to avoid being excluded from a communal memory. When such ceremonials are tied to tangible benefits, supporters perceive the system as responsive and just, even if outcomes are uneven or opaque. The ritual dimension of politics thus reinforces acceptance beyond rational evaluation.
Myths, memory, and momentum converge to legitimate power and mobilize action.
Selective memory operates like a filter that prioritizes convenient truths and suppresses inconvenient ones. It highlights episodes of national unity and sacrifice while downplaying contradictions, errors, or failures embedded in previously celebrated eras. The result is a reframed history that absolves leadership of accountability and legitimizes ongoing policy choices. Citizens, encountering this compressed version repeatedly, begin to evaluate the present in light of a favored past, rather than on objective evidence. In effect, memory becomes a tool for steering opinion, with the past serving as a deck of cards shuffled to produce a desired outcome at any given moment.
Media channels reinforce this memory framework by selecting which pasts are shown and which are silenced. Through curated documentaries, sensational headlines, and opinion-page rhetoric, audiences encounter a narrative tempo that aligns with political aims. Neutral complexity gives way to a streamlined storyline in which progress is inevitable and opposition is untrustworthy. As audiences absorb these patterns, critical thinking can atrophy, replaced by quick judgments and emotionally charged responses. The danger is not just misinformation, but a consensual narrowing of public discourse that legitimizes control mechanisms and narrows avenues for dissent.
Rituals, myths, and mobilization create a durable political engine.
Political entrepreneurs cultivate a sense of destiny, presenting leaders as indispensable agents who alone can safeguard a cherished heritage. This portrayal reduces political choices to questions of authenticity versus betrayal, making policy debates seem like existential tests of character. In such climates, compromise appears as capitulation, and dissent can be recast as disloyalty to the nation. The emotional tone matters as much as the content: steadfast resolve, shared sorrow, and unwavering faith become signals of rightful leadership. People respond not only to what is promised but to the aura of inevitability that surrounds the central figure, bolstering readiness to mobilize.
Civil society responses often appear fractured, with various groups imagining themselves as guardians of the true story. When communities mobilize around a mythic past, they can coordinate actions across diverse interests, aligning around a common symbol rather than a shared policy program. This convergence enables rapid collective responses to perceived threats, whether external or domestic. Yet the same mechanism can be weaponized to exclude rival voices, delegitimize minority perspectives, and justify extraordinary measures. The mobilization power of myth thus sits at the intersection of emotional resonance and strategic political calculus, shaping both the tempo and direction of public action.
Ultimately, myth and memory co-create legitimacy and drive collective action.
Beyond speeches, the propaganda ecosystem uses education, entertainment, and online interaction to maintain a constant sense of narrative momentum. School programs and textbooks may be adjusted to emphasize particular interpretations of history, while popular media recycles dramatized episodes that fit the desired frame. In digital spaces, memes and short videos condense complex ideas into shareable, emotionally laden messages. This compression accelerates agreement and reduces opportunities for nuance. The outcome is a public sphere where persuasion outpaces scrutiny, and citizens move through conversations as if guided by a rehearsed script. The ensemble effect is powerful: once a story is learned as truth, it becomes the default lens for reality.
The architecture of propaganda often includes warnings about enemies, real or imagined, to rationalize restrictive policies. By casting opposition as a corrosive force that threatens the homeland, leaders create a moral imperative for collective discipline. This dichotomy legitimizes surveillance, censorship, or punitive measures as protective logic rather than coercive power. When people perceive danger with convincing clarity, they accept intrusions on civil liberties as proportional and necessary. The strategic framing positions security as the ultimate justification for extraordinary measures, aligning public sentiment with authority and diminishing appetite for dissent.
To resist manipulation, audiences must cultivate historical literacy that embraces ambiguity and questions neat narratives. Critical thinkers compare competing accounts, examine sources, and consider whose interests are served by particular framings. Education should highlight how myths function as social tools rather than objective facts, clarifying where memory reflects real events and where it serves political ends. A more informed public can recognize when a present argument mirrors comforting pasts, and respond with measured skepticism rather than reflexive agreement. Encouraging dialogue across communities also weakens the monopolization of history by any single group, promoting resilience against coordinated propaganda efforts.
Media literacy initiatives, diverse voices in public discourse, and transparent governance processes collectively reduce the impact of myth-based persuasion. When institutions disclose uncertainties, errors, and evolving interpretations of history, they invite accountability rather than obedience. Civil society organizations, independent researchers, and international observers can play a corrective role, offering alternate narratives and evidence. The long-term antidote to myth-based legitimacy is a culture that prizes intellectual humility and dialogic engagement. By fostering environments in which questions are welcomed and confronted, societies can resist the simplifications that propaganda depends upon and strengthen democratic resilience against manipulation.
