“The abuse of greatness is when it disjoins remorse from power”
There comes a time in Macbeth’s bloody-minded totalitarianism when, wishing to control every little mite of time, space, and freedom of action, he realizes that in so doing he has in fact come to lose all control over everything.
Indeed, the one profound and profoundly enacted truth of Macbeth’s career is to communicate the fearful irony at the heart of all absolutist ambition, namely, that far from achieving any omnipotent security of selfhood or regime, every successive crime calculated to nail opposition leaves a residue which in course metamorphoses into an uncontrollable destiny. All moral compass lost, a madly irrational anarchy overtakes the tyrant, until his only pathetic rationale for going forward or turning back comes to be which end is physically closer and more accessible: “I am in blood/Stepped in so far that, should I wade no more/Returning were as tedious as go o’er” (Macbeth, Cambridge, ed. John Dover Wilson.)
This seems to be the point at which politics in Gujarat may now have arrived.