Fear and Loathing at Dens: Clement teeters on the brink … only Celtic fans hope for his survival.

In his famed political “instruction manual”, The Prince, Niccolò Machiavelli discusses how a leader faced with the choice between being feared or loved should seek to be feared. Truly great leaders can inspire both emotions, but many leaders prioritise being loved.

Unfortunately, that often breeds resentment in other parts of the kingdom, as love is not an emotion that binds a realm together.

Machiavelli argued that love is an emotion easily eroded during times of acute fear and paranoia. Among the populace, and in the high courts where contenders squabble for position, it fades quickly in moments of tension or crisis. Fear, on the other hand, endures as long as the ruler maintains the power to instil it—a relatively straightforward task for those who understand the mechanics of power itself.

But what if a leader is neither feared nor loved?

Such a person merely exists, surviving only on the name of the office they hold. For some, that position alone inspires a degree of loyalty, but only to a point. To others, it makes no difference. People expect a leader to lead, and when they sense incapacity, it sparks unrest. Eventually, that unrest evolves into revolution, especially if challengers are waiting in the wings to exploit visible weaknesses.

If he’d had better credentials, Michael Beale might have been someone to fear. His actions—selfish, ruthless, and aimed at undermining Giovanni van Bronckhorst—demonstrated a vicious, self-serving streak. In the hands of someone who truly knew what they were doing, those traits could have been formidable.

Philippe Clement inspires neither fear nor love.

Instead, he inspires derision.

The last Ibrox manager mocked to this extent was Pedro Caixinha. There is no affection for Clement, nor is there any fear—neither inside Ibrox nor outside it. This is a man who defeated Brendan Rodgers just a week ago, yet Rodgers is likely at home laughing his head off. He knows he’ll never have to face Clement again. I’m 100% convinced Rodgers would have beaten him next time, but now he doesn’t even need to consider that possibility. Clement is knocking on heaven’s door.

I’ve been doing this job for over a decade, and I can tell you I’ve covered countless Ibrox managerial crises. A familiar pattern develops during these moments, and I’ve been waiting for the point when this one would enter its final phase.

It must be obvious to everyone that when I write about such matters, I’m having a grand old time. I enjoy every Ibrox managerial crisis, in all its phases. Yet, I do try to remain dispassionate up to a point. I’ve written so often that the club should sack Clement that some might think I’m actively urging them to take that step.

The truth is, I simply love seeing Ibrox in crisis.

Any club that sacks a manager finds itself, in that moment, plunged into complete and utter turmoil. This is especially satisfying given the monumental cost of sacking Clement—a cost his club cannot afford to absorb.

I always think about these situations in practical terms, and I’ve been particularly intrigued by this case. Why? Because there’s no obvious successor to Clement that anyone would genuinely fear.

Whoever takes the job next will face the unenviable task of selling themselves to a fanbase with increasingly limited patience. Add to that the reality that the average lifespan of an Ibrox manager has now shrunk to roughly 11-12 months, and the task of catching Celtic appears as insurmountable as ever.

Their resources are limited. Their room to manoeuvre within UEFA’s sustainability regulations is minimal. Their fanbase is prone to fury, unforgiving, and prone to calling for a manager’s head within months if significant progress isn’t visible.

On top of that, an Ibrox boss operates in a media environment where the hacks have as much loyalty as the average contestant on The Traitors.

Every Ibrox managerial appointment is greeted like the crowning of an emperor. Journalists flock to flatter and fawn, hoping for access to the spoils of success. But most Ibrox managers of the modern era have let them down, and when that happens, the knives come out. The same people who once sang a manager’s praises will swiftly and viciously turn on him. It’s an unforgiving cycle.

Initially, every Ibrox manager basks in the glow of support. But if he fails to inspire fear alongside fleeting affection, he knows that goodwill will dry up fast. For my part, I try to remain detached when covering the downfall of an Ibrox boss. I treat it like any other story—a legitimate news event. Yet, I can’t deny the satisfaction I take from these moments, nor do I try to obscure it.

For months, I’ve said Clement’s position is untenable.

At any club that takes itself seriously, his tenure would already be over. Yet, the longer he stays, the more delightful the chaos becomes. There’s now a point of diminishing returns for sacking him—his continued presence arguably does more harm than his departure would. That’s why I’ve written my final piece advocating for his dismissal. If the inevitability of his fate isn’t already obvious to their fans and Scottish football observers, I’m not sure what more it will take.

I’ve reached my happy place, where I no longer root for the turmoil and chaos of a managerial sacking. Instead, I’d prefer Philippe Clement remained in his role, fumbling through his job, and making a mess of it every step of the way. Don’t get me wrong; I think a sacking would be great and it would give them a genuine headache, but every day that passes without him being summoned to the chairman’s office for the dreaded “justify your job” interview is a day to relish.

Steven Gerrard would have been fired within months had he not read the writing on the wall and bolted for Aston Villa. I recognised Giovanni van Bronckhorst’s struggles early and knew he had lost control of events. With Michael Beale, I savoured every day he was in charge because it was so obvious that he was a disaster in the making. Now, with Clement, the fun no longer lies in imagining the club scouring the bottom drawer for their next manager. The true joy is watching this man drain their resources, alienate their supporters, and openly mock the fans who want him gone.

It’s not up to any Celtic fan or media figure to dictate the fate of the club across the city. Hell, they do an excellent job of keeping us entertained all on their own. However, if I had the power, I’d let Clement see out this season, the next, and perhaps even the one after that. His continued tenure only serves Celtic’s interests.

It’s amusing—and ironic—that he’s lasted this long due to a cup final defeat and a solitary victory over Brendan Rodgers. That win, his only success against Rodgers in seven attempts, was treated like a momentous achievement and I’ve already said that I cannot remember such ludicrous praise for a team collecting runner up medals. Yet, as I said last month, the idea that a manager could survive based on one result, amidst a chasm of disparity between the two clubs, is absurd.

Don’t get me wrong—I would never trade a Celtic win at Ibrox for seeing an enfeebled boss keep his job a while longer. Winning is always the priority, regardless of the fallout for their manager. Even if someone had told me before that game, “If Celtic win, Clement will be sacked; if Celtic lose, he’ll stay and sow more chaos” I’d still have wanted Celtic to win.

My focus is, and always will be, on what’s best for Celtic.

Yet the irony of the situation is almost too delicious not to savour. We’re now a point better off than we would have been had we won that game and they’d won their next two. It’s entirely plausible they would have sacked Clement that very night if we’d beaten them convincingly. But every day he remains in charge drags them further into the darkness that has enveloped them.

This brings us back to the central theme: fear. Fear is the opposite of love. Right now, they are led by a man who inspires neither fear nor love but instead he’s the target of the loathing, and he’s not alone. Patrick Stewart is due to sit in front of the media soon and I suspect he is not delivering news their fans will be happy with.

But Clement’s now at the precarious point—the point where external rivals smell blood and internal enemies prepare for the kill. He cannot last much longer, as much as I might wish that he could somehow ride this out.

Clement has two things working in his favour. First, they are hard-pressed to find the funds to terminate his contract and hire a replacement. Second, there’s no obvious “prince over the water,” no saviour waiting to claim the throne.

But loathing is what their fans do best, and they wield it like a weapon. They show neither scruples nor mercy, particularly when it comes to turning on their own. The only thing they love more than lording it over a beaten foe is spilling blood within their own castle walls.

As I said in my previous Fear and Loathing piece, the Ibrox board has played a significant role in sharpening the baser impulses of their fanbase.

They’ve stoked paranoia, amplified hatred, and convinced their supporters that the world despises them. They’ve painted dark forces as conspiring against the club. It never occurred to them that this might not be a sustainable strategy—or that feeding such dangerous impulses could one day backfire. Now they face the wrath of the angry mob, and they’ll have to find some answers.

That’s why I doubt I’ll get to see Clement stay long enough to cause the maximum damage. As much as I’d love to see him stumble through the rest of the campaign, I suspect he’ll be gone within weeks. His dismissal will plunge them into yet another shambles—one that they might struggle to recover from.

This current state of dysfunction has been years in the making. Crisis seems to permanently engulf Ibrox. If their fans think this cycle will end anytime soon, they’re deluded. Nothing is going to turn that team of theirs into a title-winning side, and no one will uncover a magic formula to surpass Celtic.

The chaos already wrought—and the chaos yet to come—can be laid squarely at the feet of a group of people who never seem to learn from the past. They are forever clutching at straws, needing just one positive sign to delude themselves into believing in saviours and miracles.

Machiavelli understood such men well. He wrote of them: “Men are so simple of mind, and so much dominated by their immediate needs, that a deceitful man will always find plenty who are ready to be deceived.”

That sentiment could easily serve as the epitaph for much of the Ibrox support and their sycophantic media. Just seven days ago, they basked in the glow of victory, making grandiose predictions while conveniently forgetting how quickly things had unravelled the last time they got carried away.

I want those same cheerleaders to remain a part of the Ibrox landscape even more than I want Clement to see out his contract. As long as they dominate the discourse around the club, Celtic has nothing to fear.

Clement’s continued tenure is a symptom of deeper problems. He has only survived this long because the club leadership has no strategy and no vision. His brief respite came from a cup final defeat and a solitary league victory over Brendan Rodgers—a manager he’s only beaten once in seven attempts. It’s absurd to think that such fleeting moments of success could justify his ongoing employment.

It’s a scenario that highlights their failure to evolve.

They’re stuck in a perpetual cycle of disaster, clinging to short-term fixes and blind hope. Their leadership has fed paranoia and hatred to their fanbase, weaponizing it without considering the consequences. Now, they face an angry mob that’s ready to turn on them as much as the manager.

For Celtic fans, there’s only one fitting response to this: get the popcorn ready. Break out the jelly and ice cream.

We’re about to watch a club self-detonate. Again.

But it never gets old, does it?

The Banter Years roll on and it’s as good as it ever was.

HBO would kill for a show that keeps its audience so riveted and entertained.

Photo by Ross Parker/SNS Group via Getty Images

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