Theocracy: When Faith Meets Power

by Sara Shariff

Theocracy is a relatively lesser-known, controversial subject. At its core, it’s the belief that a country should be governed by divine guidance, by the rules of a higher power. For some people, that may sound comforting, almost like handing the steering wheel to someone wiser than any politician. For others, it feels like losing the freedom to think, question, or simply be different. 

Advocations of theocracy often start with something many of us can relate to: the desire for moral certainty. Life is messy. Politics is messier. So the idea that a society could anchor itself in a single moral framework, one believed to come from God, can be incredibly appealing. 

Examples include  Iran, where the government is a hybrid of theocratic and democratic principles, officially known as a theocratic republic. It has a Supreme Leader (Ayatollah) who is a religious authority with ultimate power, alongside an elected president and parliament, though all laws must conform to Islamic law (Sharia). 

Or the Vatican, the world’s smallest theocracy, an absolute theocratic elective monarchy where the Pope, as the head of the Roman Catholic Church, holds supreme legislative, executive, and judicial power.

As well as Afghanistan: Since the Taliban's takeover, the government has been based almost exclusively on a strict interpretation of Islamic Sharia law, with political power held by the movement's religious leaders.

We cannot miss Saudi Arabia: An Islamic absolute monarchy that operates as a theocracy. The King's authority is legitimized by the strict Wahhabi interpretation of Sunni Islam, with the Quran and Sunnah serving as the country's constitution.

Some historical examples include: 

Ancient Egypt where The Pharaoh was considered a living god and the intermediary between the gods and the people. Tibet: Historically, Tibet was a Buddhist theocracy under a "dual system of government" where the Dalai Lama served as both the spiritual and political leader.

Supporters argue that these systems don’t have to be oppressive; they can create unity, cultural pride, and a shared sense of right and wrong. When the law reflects the community’s deepest values, people often feel understood in a way modern democracies struggle to achieve.

There’s also a very human yearning for stability. In a world filled with political polarization, broken promises, and leaders who rise and fall overnight, a theocracy can seem like a steady hand. Scripture doesn’t change every four years. Principles aren’t rewritten by whoever can run the best campaign. For some, that consistency feels like safety.

But critics raise equally human concerns rooted in lived experience rather than abstract theory. The biggest fear is that mixing divine authority with political power leaves no room for dissent. If your government claims to speak for God, what happens when you disagree?

History has shown us the darker side: medieval Europe, where questioning the Church could get you punished; the early years of Saudi Arabia’s strict religious policing; or even Calvin’s Geneva, where moral purity was enforced through surveillance and fear. It’s not hard to see how a system built to protect values can end up policing souls.

And then there’s the simplest truth of all: leaders are human. No matter how spiritual or well-intentioned, religious authorities are vulnerable to ego, bias, and political ambition. When you combine unquestioned power with the claim of divine right, the line between guidance and control begins to blur. Many critics feel that theocracy, even in its gentlest form, risks silencing minorities, women, or anyone whose beliefs fall outside the dominant narrative.

So what do we make of it all? Theocracy reflects our deepest contradictions: our desire for moral clarity battling our need for freedom. Some see it as the purest expression of faith in public life; others see it as faith weaponized. And maybe both perspectives hold true. 

In the end, whether theocracy sounds like a dream or a warning depends on your experiences, your fears, and your hopes for what a society should be. The conclusion, really, belongs to you.

-For The Exclusive,

Sara Shariff