In lull times, members of the regime come off at their worst. Not that they are exactly proactive under pressure. But, in these times, they at least freeze, they stop acting, they go into a trance, a blessed hypnotic trance, which restrict their ability to make mistakes. They might even make a few right things, as a result of external suggestion of course, like sealing off borders and pulling out from where they don’t belong and have never been really welcome.
But during lull times, old habits sneak up on them all too quickly, and they start fucking up again, which isn’t very hard to do for them: all they have to do is just be themselves, and fucking up will come all too naturally.
Oh, may heaven protect us from lull times and natural born screw-ups, and may it grant these unchosen, though terribly begotten, leaders of ours a certain je ne sais quoi, because there is absolutely nothing I can personally think of that will make them any better.