“The Pygmalion Effect: From the Myth of the Gods to Manufacturing Imaginary Enemies and Fragmenting Sudan”

Dr Ismail Satti
Ancient Greek mythology tells the story of the sculptor Pygmalion, who carved a statue of a beautiful woman and worked on it with passion and perfection for five continuous years until it reached the ideal form he envisioned. His fascination with the statue grew so intensely that he fell in love with it, named it “Venus,” and treated it as a living being—indeed, even worshipping it as the embodiment of absolute beauty. Moved by his boundless devotion, the gods breathed life into the sculpture, turning the imaginary into reality, and—according to the legend—transforming Venus into the goddess of beauty.
This mythical tale evolved into an important psychological and social concept known as the Pygmalion Effect, used by social psychologists to describe how our expectations of others influence their behaviour and performance, just as their expectations influence us—turning predictions into lived realities. Yet this effect also has a darker side, especially when we create imaginary enemies or opponents and inflate their power until they become idols we fear.
The Pygmalion Effect in Our Societies
A wide range of actors fall under the influence of this effect. In politics, leaders often amplify external threats to achieve domestic aims—creating a “bogeyman” to justify internal repression or economic failure. Others are fashioned into saviours or sole redeemers, with an almost mythical aura that gradually transforms into political worship. In international relations, some states are imagined as perpetual existential threats, producing self-fulfilling cycles of conflict.
In social contexts, the effect is strikingly visible in classrooms, where teachers’ expectations shape students’ actual performance, as demonstrated in the famous Rosenthal and Jacobson study. Media reinforces stereotypes and fabricates illusory stardom, while society imposes normative expectations based on gender, age or social background. Examples are endless.
Modern Idols in the Sudanese Context
In Sudan, we see multiple manifestations of this phenomenon. One is the idol of “Sudan being divided into five states”, a narrative circulated in some circles—illustrating how a repeated idea can, over time, grow into a perceived inevitability. As with Pygmalion’s statue, we carve the fear, polish it, discuss it, dread it—and eventually behave in ways that reinforce it. The secession of South Sudan is often invoked as proof of future fragmentation, strengthening the magnetism of this narrative. But is future partition a geopolitical inevitability, or simply a prediction we adopted because others crafted it for us?
Another example is the idol of the external enemy, where we create exaggerated images—of regional or international actors—as omnipotent puppeteers either conspiring against us or preparing to rescue us. In both cases, we attribute to them powers far greater than their real influence and begin responding not to the complex reality but to imagined projections. This is not uniquely Sudanese; similar dynamics play out in many global conflicts.
We also see the idol of historical inevitability: “Sudan is destined to fragment,” “Sudanese people never agree,” “There is no solution except external intervention.” These narratives, once internalised, become Pygmalion statues: we venerate them, and they gradually solidify into reality.
And during crises, societies—including Sudan—tend to create “statues” of political figures presented as magical solutions to complex problems. This elevation of a leader into a sole redeemer mirrors the political Pygmalion Effect, where soaring expectations mould reality.
Global Illustrations
The Pygmalion Effect extends far beyond Sudan. In international politics, Russia, China or Iran are often depicted as eternal threats to the West, or the West to them—creating self-reinforcing antagonisms.
In economics, predictions of the collapse of certain economies or stock markets attract speculative behaviours that help bring about that very collapse. In health, the placebo effect shows how expectations of healing lead to real improvement. In sports, historically strong teams receive motivational and emotional boosts simply because people expect them to win.
In education and at home, parents’ expectations—whether overly positive or harmful—shape their children’s identities. A child constantly described as “lazy” or “brilliant” internalises this label, and it gradually becomes a part of their personality, a statue sculpted in their mind.
Towards Breaking the Modern Idols
Dismantling modern Pygmalion idols requires conscious critical awareness—recognising that we ourselves create these mental statues, whether of overestimated enemies or over-glorified heroes. It requires a return to objective assessment, distinguishing between real threats and exaggerated illusions, between constructive cooperation and destructive dependency.
We must reclaim confidence in our collective capacity as a people to solve our crises without relying on mythical saviours or the paralysing fear of imagined conspiracies. This means challenging ready-made narratives, relying on research and sober dialogue, and resisting fatalistic rhetoric that presents the future as predetermined.
We must also build positive, realistic expectations for the future—of a unified, stable Sudan—because positive expectations can become self-fulfilling, as seen in nations that transformed hardship into opportunity.
Strengthening social cohesion and resisting divisive stereotypes are essential steps. Sudan’s potential is far greater than the myths that undermine it.
Conclusion: Between Idols and Visions
The Pygmalion legend teaches us that what we strongly believe may indeed manifest as reality. The choice before us is clear:
Shall we craft idols of fear, division, and dependence—or visions of unity, capability, and national solidarity?
This article does not deny the existence of real threats or challenges. Still, it urges us to distinguish between genuine dangers and artificially inflated fears, between useful cooperation and destructive subservience. Real enemies need not be magnified; confronting them requires realism and balance, not paralysing dread.
Sudan is far too great to be reduced to a statue in a Pygmalion myth, and its people are far more capable than mere sculptors trembling before the figures they themselves created.
Breaking the intellectual idols begins with recognising that we are the sculptors, and that we hold the power to shape a new reality—one grounded in rational expectations and collective will.

Shortlink: https://sudanhorizon.com/?p=9630