How It Feels to Lose Your Country to a Dictator…and Why America Won’t Be Next

The election of Donald Trump has caused lots of liberals to go into full-fledged Panic Mode. People are renewing their passports, reading up on the rise of Hitler and the origins of fascism and the fundamentals of totalitarianism, and just generally freaking out. Is America…over? Is Trump’s presidency the beginning of the end of American democracy? Are we all going to be rounded up and sent to tacky, garishly gold-plated internment camps? Especially those of us who write trenchant anti-Trump political commentary on the Internet? Hahahahaha! Of course not! (Right?)

Trump’s election is definitely a shock, a trauma to many, and in some ways unprecedented, but in times like these it helps to maintain historical perspective. One of the people who have helped me do this is my friend Mr. Suku Radia, CEO of Bankers Trust, Iowa’s largest independently held bank.

Suku Radia’s life story is like something out of a movie. Suku’s family is originally from India, but he is a native of Uganda, and came to America as a college student in 1971, the same year in which dictator Idi Amin came to power in Uganda (as depicted in the film The Last King of Scotland, starring Forest Whitaker). In 1972, Amin expelled all of the people of European, Asian and Indian ancestry from Uganda and stole their property. Suku’s family was forced to flee for their lives, losing everything but the clothes on their backs, and Suku suddenly found himself stranded in Iowa at age 20, thousands of miles from his family, a young man without a country.

How did he respond to these dreadful events? Well, Suku went to work. He worked his connections in Iowa and found support from Iowa Congressional representatives to get approved for U.S. citizenship, he finished his degree from Iowa State University, and he went to his first day at his first job after graduation with only $4.87 in his pocket. In the years since, Suku has built a tremendously successful business career, serving as the former Managing Partner of the Des Moines office of KPMG, former CFO of Meredith Corporation, and now as the CEO of a regional bank. He and his wife have raised three talented kids and have become significant philanthropists and community leaders. Every weekend Suku devotes a few early morning hours to having coffee with young professionals in Des Moines and offering free advice and career mentoring. Everybody loves Suku; he has become a pillar of the Des Moines community even though his life in America started in desperate circumstances.

I talked with Suku about his perspective on the election of Donald Trump, as an immigrant and as someone who actually went through the terrible experience of losing his home country to authoritarian rule. Suku is feeling more optimistic than you might expect; he helped me feel better about America’s future and I hope he’ll do the same for you.

Please tell us a bit about your background and life story of leaving Uganda in 1972 in the era of Idi Amin. Did you ever feel unsafe in Uganda before Amin?

I was the fourth generation of an Indian family that had settled in Uganda at the turn of the 20th Century after the completion of the railroad from the coast of Kenya into Uganda; my ancestors were laborers who were recruited from India by the British who had completed a railroad in India earlier using Indian labor. So my family had deep roots in Uganda and it had always felt like “our country;” we never had any conception that we would ever be unsafe or unwelcome there.

I was already in America attending college at Iowa State University when the Indians were evicted from Uganda by its dictator, Idi Amin, in 1972. I was a second-year student when I received the call from my father. He was in London with my family and they had left Uganda literally with nothing but the clothes on their backs, but most importantly they were all alive and safe.

Suddenly, I was broke and had to chart out a plan to work, save money to pay for my education and graduate in eight quarters. It was a daunting task but in hindsight, I have learned that sometimes, when you are undergoing adversity, you cannot dwell in the past and feel sorry for yourself. Instead, even though you feel for your family, you have to focus on the future.

I had never felt unsafe in Uganda pre-Idi Amin. He was a tyrant but was very popular initially when he seized power through a coup d’état. He made all sorts of hollow promises.

How did it feel to go through that experience of your family being expelled from Uganda? How did the process happen where your life went from “being a safe, prosperous family in Uganda” to “having to flee the country?”

The eviction of the Indians was a total surprise. Amin initially gave everyone a 90-day eviction notice, but in practice it turned out to be more like 9 days. Several lives were lost and the safety of the country had been destroyed; the country descended into political violence against various ethnic groups and other targeted classes of society. Idi Amin wanted to redistribute the significant wealth of the Indian community to his army so that he could entrench himself in power in perpetuity.

The process of safety eroding in the country going from safe to unsafe was gradual. But it accelerated suddenly, however. At first, nobody paid attention to his eviction order. But then the army started killing selectively based on ethnicity, and the country turned into mayhem.

Some people are worried that Trump will bring a new style of American fascism or totalitarianism for the 21st century, and that Americans of good conscience should be afraid and should start preparing to resist worst-case scenarios such as political violence, tyranny, and ethnic cleansing. Do you feel that these fears of Amin-style tyranny and mayhem happening in America are overblown? What do you see as signs of hope that America can avoid the worst fates of countries like 1972 Uganda that fell into dictatorship and tyranny?

It’s important to keep in mind that America does not have some of the disadvantages that those other countries had at their moments of political and social catastrophe. The U.S. political system is very strong. America has had political shocks before, and we’ve always recovered and kept moving forward. For example, when Nixon resigned, it was one of the worst moments of crisis that the American presidency had ever seen; but still, there was no violence. There was no high-level dispute or military coup or Constitutional uncertainty; instead, the country’s political system and economic systems were resilient and largely stayed at the status quo; the stock market actually went up. Despite the significance of Nixon’s resignation, our political system was able to withstand the shock.

Trump’s surprise election victory is hardly the first time we have been torn asunder. Our country went through a bloody and divisive Civil War and even after those terrible years, and the assassination of President Lincoln, the country quickly started healing and growing again.

1968 was one of the worst years in U.S. history. But even when Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated that year, we did not fall apart. Lyndon B. Johnson led the charge on civil rights and voting legislation. Yes, we had riots in the late 1960s but the country was blessed with the presence of Bobby Kennedy who led the reconciliation effort, only to be assassinated a few weeks later. Again, we recovered. Even in the worst moments of U.S. history, democracy prevailed.

Trump may have caused a firestorm over his comments about immigrants, women and Muslims. But there is no way that I foresee our system allowing him to do anything to destroy our democracy. Sure, he will likely rant and rave but his powers are limited. The real power resides within the Supreme Court, which has power to decide upon the Constitutionality of the laws, and Congress which has “power of the purse” to actually spend money to activate government policy. We haven’t elected a dictator; we have elected a president. And the U.S. system has strong checks on the power of the president to prevent a dictator from arising here.

You’re an immigrant and you’ve done so many great things in America. Most research that I’ve seen suggests that the economic benefits of immigration far outweigh the costs; even aside from the intangible cultural benefits. What message would you like to send to the American public today on behalf of immigrants, in this present moment when many immigrants might be feeling uncertain, unwelcome, or even under attack?

My message to America on behalf of my fellow immigrants is simple. Most of us are not murderers and rapists. America is facing a critical labor shortage in multiple industries and sectors—some lower-skilled jobs like farm labor and home health care, some higher-skilled jobs like engineering and information technology—which will be largely filled by immigrants. On a net-net basis, immigrants add to the economy. Immigrants tend to be exceptionally hard workers who do demanding jobs in areas where labor is in high demand, who start businesses that create jobs for other Americans, who pay taxes to fund our public services, and who create a richer cultural fabric for our society with food, music, and more. We are not here being freeloaders, relying on welfare and food stamps, unlike what people like Trump might say.

It’s true that I had only $4.87 to my name when I graduated at the top of my class at Iowa State University. I’ve always been grateful to my friends and to the people who have become my family, through marriage to my wife, here in Iowa and all over America, and I have always tried to make a difference and be generous to my adopted home. I like to think that I have contributed and donated and generated much more positive impact for America than I ever “cost” by being an immigrant here. And I believe that this is true for almost every immigrant in America. Just by being here and working at their jobs and raising families, they are making a positive difference that is worth much more than the “costs.” We need to remind ourselves of this.

Do you feel like in the current political climate, with so many U.S. politicians expressing unwillingness to accept refugees from Syria or demanding to restrict immigration from troubled countries in the Middle East, that perhaps a young person in your situation today might not even be allowed to stay in the U.S.? How have you been feeling about the recent climate in the U.S. and the recent debate?

Despite the rhetoric from politicians, I believe that America at heart is not a nation of unwelcoming people. There are always a few who do not embrace immigrants or minorities but I believe—even though this election campaign and the result has emboldened some of the worst of these people—on the whole, their voice is diminishing.

I recognize that certain refugee cohorts are unwelcome. I wish that more of America’s leaders would recognize that, at the very core, we are all immigrants. And I believe that this situation will get better. Even the Syrian refugees will be welcome over time. We are a nation of decent people. In every community, we are always going to have a few “bad apples.” I just hope we do not make rash judgments. Instead, we have to welcome and assimilate these minorities into our overall community and our shared American experience.

I am a huge subscriber of Tocqueville’s Democracy in America, which was written almost 200 years ago but is still relevant today. Tocqueville was studying America as a positive example compared to France, which had seen its young democracy fall into chaos and bloodshed and dictatorship (by Napoleon Bonaparte). In the book, Tocqueville discusses how, although the American Constitution is strong and worthy of praise, what truly plays the greatest role in the protection of freedom is the “habits of mind” of the American people. Tocqueville was French but he was a big admirer of American democracy and he was optimistic about the overall project of America’s development, despite the problems and challenges and injustices of his time. I share Tocqueville’s optimism, still today. Over time, America tends to persevere, correct its mistakes, and gradually become a fairer and more inclusive place for everyone.

What should Americans who are concerned about our country’s future with regard to immigration, inclusion, and cultural diversity do now? Is American democracy strong enough to handle what’s coming next?

It’s important to maintain perspective that this election was a choice between two individuals who were widely disliked. One candidate had a history of questionable business ethics and lawsuits against him, and the other candidate—during the campaign—was under active investigation by the FBI. For many people who voted for Trump, this was not a vote “for” Trump as much as it was a vote “against” Hillary. Had a different Democrat run against Trump, such as Joe Biden, I believe that the Democrats would have won the White House quite decisively.

As for what to do next: we have to speak up and be heard. Our elected officials need to hear from us. If we cannot take the time to be heard, shame on us. Rest assured, I am going to ramp up my efforts to be heard.

On the whole, I am an optimist. The fate of Uganda under Idi Amin will not befall America. Our system of government and our institutions of civil society are stronger than that. Ultimately the spirit of decency in the hearts of the vast majority of the American people is more powerful and more generous than the ugly and mean-spirited tone of this campaign. I am convinced that Trump will soon find himself accountable to the will of the people. Hang in there!