The 19th-century idea that great men – exceptionally talented, courageous, charismatic individuals – direct and change the course of history by the sheer force of their genius and personality is hard to shake. It has persisted despite the rise of egalitarian and Marxist social theory and the advent in the 1960s of EP Thompson’s levelling up school of “history from below”. The Scottish philosopher Thomas Carlyle viewed figures such as Aristotle, Julius Caesar, Napoleon, Martin Luther and the prophet Muhammad as standout heroes of their time who fundamentally, permanently changed the world around them. The mass of mankind, he believed, could merely watch, marvel, admire and tamely follow these top-down makers and shakers of “universal history”. It’s a daft idea, really, but seductive and long-lived. There are still men – and it’s mostly men – who truly believe they have been fashioned in a heroic mould, that they have a special mission, a calling, or sacred duty to lead and act as saviours of peoples and nations. They think they know best, enjoy unique insight. They are ruthless and arrogant enough to impose their views on all. Except, in the modern era, such “great” men are typically not heroes at all, as the word is commonly understood, but anti-heroes or, more precisely, villains. Like Carlyle’s select few, they wield significant power. But unlike them, they use it unwisely, selfishly and destructively, appealing to people’s worst instincts, prejudices and fears. The greatest anti-heroic villains of the 20th century were mass murderers: Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin and Mao Zedong. Today, three contemporary anti-heroes command global history-altering influence. Their messianic views, immense egos, disregard for truth, joylessness and cold-hearted inhumanity single them out as headline hooligans of an unheroic age. Step forward Vladimir Putin, Benjamin Netanyahu and Donald Trump – the riders of the storm, the three witches of a hexed, unhappy, warring world. What do this unlovely trio have in common? Putin, Russia’s president, invades other people’s countries and butchers civilians, as in Chechnya, Georgia and Syria. His Ukraine war crimes spree has killed at least 11,000 non-combatants so far. The latest made-in-Moscow horrors are glide bombs, packed with 590kg (1,300lb) of explosive that silently come from nowhere and destroy entire apartment buildings in one blast. (By comparison, an artillery shell contains about 5.9kg of explosive.) Putin ordered more devastating aerial attacks last week. Then there is Netanyahu, Israel’s prime minister. His insistence on keeping occupation troops in Gaza is blocking a ceasefire deal. Last week, he launched a lethal “re-invasion” of the West Bank. He aches to invade Lebanon, too. More than 40,000 Palestinians, mostly civilians, have died in Gaza since the 7 October Hamas massacres. Like Putin, Netanyahu is accused of crimes against humanity. Trump, the US presidential hopeful, is a different kind of monster, one who tried to murder American democracy. He prefers ducking out to invading, as in Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia, Venezuela and North Korea. Trump won’t stand with Europe, Nato, Ukraine, Japan or Taiwan. But he’s a killer all the same, witness his 2020 assassination of Iranian general Qassem Suleimani. Trump was re-indicted last week for his 6 January 2021 coup attempt. All three lie habitually, careless of honesty or honour. They exploit biased media, thrive off corrupt practices and employ bully pulpit rhetoric to get their way. Like ranting demagogues of old, Trump can skilfully rally a rabble. Netanyahu just shouts and threatens. Putin tends to smirk, snarl and snivel and hide when things go wrong, as in the region of Kursk right now. Today’s anti-heroes, sick parodies of “great men”, undermine rather than reinforce universal values. All three encourage ultranationalist emulators, spawning toxic mini-me versions of themselves around the world. Putin survives, ultimately, by waving nuclear missiles in Joe Biden’s face. Netanyahu weaponises antisemitism. Assassin Trump almost did not survive his own assassination but was “saved by God”. How can such men be stopped? Appeasement of dictators is Trump’s default position, yet appeasing him is like showing a red flag to a bullshitter. Making concessions to Netanyahu, as the Americans constantly do, is foolish, too. He takes what’s offered and carries on regardless. Nihilistic Putin cares about very little. His war will not end until he is ended. There’s the rub. All three anti-heroes espouse grand national visions. Putin bores on about reviving the Soviet empire. Netanyahu seeks an enlarged Israel controlling all of historical Palestine – and a decisive victory in the Jewish state’s quarrel with Iran and Muslim rejectionists. Trump wants to make America great again, at everyone else’s expense. These dangerous illusions of mission, mandate and noble cause, centred on self, are not open to negotiation. There’s no compromising with monomaniacs. Putin climbed to power over the corpses of communism’s victims in Soviet times and since. Netanyahu is the vicious product of an upstart nation’s lifelong ordeal of blood and tears. And Trump’s ascendancy is likewise rooted in violence, from Charlottesville in 2017 to the Capitol in 2021. Only banishment, jail or death will silence these men. Theirs will not be happy endings. The rise of the modern anti-hero begs an obvious question. Who are today’s real heroes, sung or unsung – the truly great men and women who inspire and lead? The late Nelson Mandela and murdered Alexei Navalny are right up there. So, too, are Iranian women’s rights campaigners and Nobel peace prize winners Narges Mohammadi and Shirin Ebadi. António Guterres, the UN secretary general, gets out of bed each day and strives for peace. King Charles? Greta Thunberg? Taylor Swift? Your maths teacher? Everyone will have their preferred candidates, in the political sphere and beyond. Yet all must surely agree: the world must find ways to survive and outlast the age of the anti-hero. In time, like the great villains of history, these three too shall pass. Simon Tisdall is the Observer’s Foreign Affairs Commentator