What is the value of character strength and weakness and give an example using a historical leadership figure.

Answer 1

This one could be pretty basic ...

Character strength is doing what is correct even though those around you say otherwise and there may be much to gain and little to lose by doing what is wrong. It's a question of morality, something that many people feel is useless in our world today.

The most obvious person in history to look at for his lack of character strength is Richard Nixon. He was going to win the election of 1974 and no one serious doubted that. He was going to win! Yet, he chose that time to, on at least some level, become involved in the break in of the Democratic Nat'l Committee Headquarters at the Watergate Hotel. He was going to win the election anyway and he took this step even though there was little to gain.

Ironically, for a character who showed great strength of character and to show exactly what can be meant, I am going to choose, Richard Nixon. There is currently little objective doubt that the 1960 election of Kennedy vs. Nixon was a thrown, or rigged election. Ballot boxes were lost in Texas, and when it was found all of the votes were cast for Kennedy; dead people were voting in Chicago, and they were all voting for Kennedy as well. Those two states had their winners changed because of cheating, unlike any other. Nixon knew he could have the presidential election reversed but he chose not to because he wanted to do what was best for the country (unlike the 2000 election when try as he might, Gore could not win the election and he couldn't prove cheating, but he was willing to tear the country apart for his own selfish ends).

That is character. Doing what is right, regardless' and lack of character, doing what is wrong.

Answer 2

Oskar Schindler is a great example of someone who goes thru an amazing transformation of character as his strengths (business savy, not carrying for people) become his weaknesses and his weaknesses become his strengths (sacrificing everything for the better good).

Answer 3

that's the two, relies upon on the region nevertheless. Kindess might properly be a potential as properly as a weak spot while you're too type (and naive sufficient to enable human beings make the main of that kindness). yet in all, that's a superb high quality to have, its in simple terms smarter to comprehend a thank you to apply it perfect.

Answer 4

"THE French had collapsed. The Dutch had been overwhelmed. The Belgians had surrendered. The British army, trapped, fought free and fell back toward the Channel ports, converging on a fishing town whose name was then spelled Dunkerque.
Behind them lay the sea.
It was England’s greatest crisis since the Norman conquest, vaster than those precipitated by Philip II’s Spanish Armada, Louis XIV’s triumphant armies, or Napoleon’s invasion barges massed at Boulogne. This time Britain stood alone. If the Germans crossed the Channel and established uncontested beachheads, all would be lost, for it is a peculiarity of England’s island that its southern weald is indefensible against disciplined troops. Now the 220,000 Tommies at Dunkirk, Britain’s only hope, seemed doomed. On the Flanders beaches they stood around in angular, existential attitudes, like dim purgatorial souls awaiting disposition. There appeared to be no way to bring more than a handful of them home. The Royal Navy’s vessels were inadequate. King George VI has been told that they would be lucky to save 17,000. The House of Commons was warned to prepare for “hard and heavy tidings.” Then, from the streams and estuaries of Kent and Dover, a strange fleet appeared: trawlers and tugs, scows and fishing sloops, lifeboats and pleasure craft, smacks and coasters; the island ferry Grade Fields; Tom Sopwith’s America’s Cup challenger Endeavour; even the London fire brigade’s fire-float Massey Shaw — all of them manned by civilian volunteers: English fathers, sailing to rescue England’s exhausted, bleeding sons.

Even today what followed seems miraculous. Not only were Britain’s soldiers delivered; so were French support troops: a total of 338,682 men. But wars are not won by fleeing from the enemy. And British morale was still unequal to the imminent challenge. These were the same people who, less than a year earlier, had rejoiced in the fake peace bought by the betrayal of Czechoslovakia at Munich. Most of their leaders and most of the press remained craven. It had been over a thousand years since Alfred the Great had made himself and his countrymen one and sent them into battle transformed. Now in this new exigency, confronted by the mightiest conqueror Europe had ever known, England looked for another Alfred, a figure cast in a mold which, by the time of the Dunkirk deliverance, seemed to have been forever lost.
England’s new leader, were he to prevail, would have to stand for everything England’s decent, civilized Establishment had rejected. They viewed Adolf Hitler as the product of complex social and historical forces. Their successor would have to be a passionate Manichaean who saw the world as a medieval struggle to the death between the powers of good and the powers of evil, who held that individuals are responsible for their actions and that the German dictator was therefore wicked. A believer in martial glory was required, one who saw splendor in the ancient parades of victorious legions through Persepolis and could rally the nation to brave the coming German fury. An embodiment of fading Victorian standards was wanted: a tribune for honor, loyalty, duty, and the supreme virtue of action; one who would never compromise with iniquity, who could create a sublime mood and thus give men heroic visions of what they were and might become. Like Adolf Hitler he would have to be a leader of intuitive genius, a born demagogue in the original sense of the word, a believer in the supremacy of his race and his national destiny, an artist who knew how to gather the blazing light of history into his prism and then distort it to his ends, an embodiment of inflexible resolution who could impose his will and his imagination on his people — a great tragedian who understood the appeal of martyrdom and could tell his followers the worst, hurling it to them like great hunks of bleeding meat, persuading them that the year of Dunkirk would be one in which it was “equally good to live or to die” — who could if necessary be Just as cruel, just as cunning, and just as ruthless as Hitler but who could win victories without enslaving populations, or preaching supernaturalism, or foisting off myths of his infallibility, or destroying, or even warping, the libertarian institutions he had sworn to preserve. Such a man, if he existed, would be England’s last chance.
In London there was such a man."