Recently I wrote about ‘Entering A New Dark Age’

I said as I look around I can see signs the New Dark Age has begun.

Some of the features of emerging neo-feudalism that I observe include:

1. The emergence of powerful, unelected and/or unaccountable leaders.

2. These ‘lords’ offer protection in return for subservience and services.

3. People are given a choice – they are either ‘for’ or ‘against’ these ‘lords’.

4. Those people who are ‘for’ these ‘lords’ live their lives as their ‘vassals’.

5. ‘Vassals’ wait on the ‘lords’, live off the crumbs that fall from their lords’ tables’, and find refuge – in times of danger – inside their lords’ ‘castles’.

6. Those people who are ‘against’ these ‘lords’ are branded as ‘infidels’.

7. The ‘lords’ wipe out ‘infidels’ either by leaving them to starve ‘outside their gates’- in times of hunger – or by slaughtering them in ‘crusades’.

8. There are no universal basic human rights. The only ‘right’ is ‘might.

9. ‘Civilisation’ is the private preserve of these ‘lords’ and their ‘vassals’.

10. And they justify this iniquitous ‘civilisation’ in the name of religion!

These features define Australia’s neo-feudal treatment of Asylum Seekers.

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The two default reactions for dealing with a threat to true civic society like this are ‘Fight’ and ‘Flight’

The first option, favoured by the hawks among us, is ‘Fight Against The Darkness’. The trouble is that this reflects and reinforces the neo-feudal ‘crusade’ mentality of society and will only increase the darkness of our New Dark Age.

The second option, favoured by the doves among us, is ‘Flight From The Darkness’. The trouble is that this reflects and reinforces the neo-feudal ‘castle’ mentality of society and will only increase the darkness of our New Dark Age.

We need to find a third option, which doesn’t reflect and reinforce the neo-feudal mentality which imbues society with the Darkness of our New Dark Age.

Fortunately for us there are people who engaged their Dark Age effectively who can serve as examples for us as we seek to engage our own Dark Age effectively. In the earlier Dark Age Francis and Clare engaged in the struggle for change by simply ‘Being Lights in the Darkness’. The political philosopher, John Ralston Saul, says of Francis and Clare and their cohort, they ‘were the most famous activists (of their day). To a great extent they laid out the modern democratic model of inclusion – an important step towards egalitarianism.’  And, in my view, if we would want to change our society – and encourage it to be much more egalitarian and inclusive – we would do well to follow their example.

The feudalism that defined the Dark Age that Francis and Clare faced was a pre-modern, but very sophisticated and very effective system of control, upon which our post-modern system of oppression and exploitation may well be based. It was built on the foundation of a network of castles, guarded by towering walls, and protected by heavily-armed patrols of free-lance mercenaries, hired to safeguard the wealth – and well-being – of the castle inhabitants. Francis and Clare undermined feudalism simply by encouraging all their brothers and sisters to refuse to join the crusades, but lay aside their weapons, unlock the gates of their castles, welcome outsiders in, and share their wealth with the poor.

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Francis was born to a French mother and Italian father in 1182, and his father called him Francesco – or Francis – after a trip to France. The ‘little Frenchman’ was brought up on romantic French ballads sung by traveling troubadours. The son of a wealthy merchant, Francis led a cavalier life in his youth, and was considered ‘the life of the party’ by his contemporaries.

Francis grew up with the dream that one day he would become a knight. So, in his early twenties, Francis took to the opportunity to fight for Assisi against a neighbouring town. However, his haughty military career came to an abrupt halt, when the young Francis was captured and incarcerated.

This time was to prove a turning point for Francis. For, during the year in prison and the year in convalescence following his release, Francis thou-ght long and hard about his life. His dream of becoming a knight seemed ridiculous in the light of the harsh reality of war that had confronted him.

One day, when Francis was riding along a road, he simply stopped dead in his tracks. It was as if he could not carry on any more as he was. He dismounted, undressed, then – bit by bit – took all his knightly regalia – including his horse, and his sword and his armor – and gave it all away.

His father became exasperated with Francis, over his prodigality with the family’s property, and organised a meeting with the local bishop to pull him into line. But it backfired big time. Francis responded to his father’s com-plaints by renouncing his family, and his family’s property, altogether.

Right there and then he gave back everything his family had given him. Including the clothes that he was wearing at the time. So that Francis stood there naked as the day that he was born. Then he turned to his father and said: ‘Until now I have called you father, but from now on I can say without reserve, “Our Father who is in Heaven” – He is all my wealth –  I place my confidence in Him.’

In order to consider his future, Francis decided to spend some time living as a hermit beside an old church in San Damiano. While there Francis heard a voice calling him, saying, ‘Rebuild my church.’ Francis responded to the call by repairing the ruins of the church in San Damiano, then set about the task of reforming the life of the church throughout Italy.

Francis approached the task of renewal – not as a legislator – but as a juggler! He had been brought up with troubadours coming to his house, singing romantic ballads that stirred the heart; and he aspired to be like one of the jugglers who accompanied the troubadours, drawing the crowds for the musicians, so they could listen to the music of the heart that they played. As Le Jongleur de Dieu, a ‘Juggler for God’, Francis wanted to travel from town to town, like an entertainer, without a penny    to his name, introducing people to joie de vivre, the ‘true joy of living’.

Considering his views, it is quite remarkable that Francis did not rage against the pompous opulence of medieval society. Instead, ever the romantic, Francis tried to woo the people away from their preoccupation with the trappings of power, and get them to fall in love with the lovely ‘Lady Poverty’. Poverty was not an end in itself. But, as far as Francis   was concerned, people needed to be willing to be able to joyfully embrace poverty in order to follow the way of Jesus and joyfully embrace the poor.

In 1210 Francis obtained approval for a simple rule dedicated to ‘apostolic poverty’. He called the order the ‘Friars Minor’. And this band of ‘Little Brothers’ followed the example of their founder in caring for the poor.

Then in 1212 Clare – a wealthy friend from Assisi; who, like Francis, had been converted, and had given all her wealth to the poor – started a sister order to the brothers, that was to become known as ‘the Poor Clares’.

Francis and Clare set about their task with such enthusiasm that people   all over the place wanted to join them. And, as hundreds and thousands  of people joined in from all over Europe, the humble movement of  ‘Brother Sun and Sister Moon’ began to gradually engage – and eventually change – the Dark Age in which they lived – in the light of the gospel.

Many historians consider the rule of life that Francis and Clare advocated for lay people as one of the major factors in the demise of the feudalism  that defined the Dark Age of their day. Feudalism was a pre-modern, but very sophisticated and very effective system of control, upon which our post-modern system of oppression and exploitation may well be based. It was built on the foundation of a network of castles, guarded by towering walls, and protected by heavily-armed patrols of free-lance mercenaries, hired to safeguard the wealth – and well-being – of the castle inhabitants.

Francis and Clare undermined feudalism simply by encouraging all their brothers and sisters to lay aside their weapons, unlock the gates of their castles, welcome outsiders in, and gladly share their wealth with the poor.

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A classic example of the impact of their movement was in the life of Elisabeth von Thuringia, known as the ‘Elisabeth of Many Castles’.

Elisabeth was born in 1207, probably at Pressburg, in Thuringia. She was the daughter of King Andrew II and Queen Gertrude of Hungary.

King Andrew II – by all reports – was a bad king, whose misrule led his nobles to a revolt against him. They eventually managed to get the King to sign an edict called the Golden Bull – that was Hungary ‘s Magna Carta – a charter of rights and responsibilities.

Queen Gertrude was apparently a good woman who, unfortunately, got implicated in the politics of the day, and was assassinated by the nobles in 1213. Elisabeth was just seven years old when her mother was murdered.

But before she died, Gertrude managed to do two things that were to shape the rest of her daughter’s life.

The first thing was to share her faith with her daughter. Gertrude was a very devout Christian, and she encouraged Elisabeth to pray regularly from a very young age.

The second thing was to arrange her daughter’s marriage. By the age of two, according to the custom of the time, Elisabeth was betrothed to the eldest son of a local Landgrave.  When the eldest son – Hermann – died, she was betrothed to the second eldest – Ludwig.

Ludwig married Elisabeth in 1221. When he was twenty-one and she was fourteen. Ludwig proposed that they take ‘Piety, Chastity, and Justice’ as their family motto.  They committed themselves as a couple to pray regularly, practice hospitality, and rule justly.

In the same year Ludwig and Elisabeth were married, the Franciscans set up their first base in Germany. And Brother Rodeger, one of the first Germans to become a Franciscan, became Elisabeth’s spiritual mentor. He encouraged her to live out the Franciscan ideals – of kindness and service -as much as she could.

Elisabeth was very rich, and had brought great wealth a dowry to her marriage with Ludwig. In the early days she had so many castles she was called ‘Elisabeth of Many Castles’. But as time went by this very wealthy woman became increasingly concerned for the poor. And she began to ride around the countryside, assessing the plight of the impoverished among her people.

Elisabeth couldn’t see the need and not respond to it. So she began distrib-uting alms all over kingdom. Even giving away the robes of state and the ornaments of office. Once she started giving, Elisabeth couldn’t stop at charity. And she looked for ways to give herself. She built a twenty-eight-bed hospital for the poor in Wartburg, and visited the patients daily herself. And she helped feed nine hundred hungry people daily herself.

Ludwig and Elisabeth lived such exemplary lives that people started to refer to them as ‘St Ludwig’ and ‘St Elisabeth’. However, they were not only exemplary, they were also happy. And they had three children together – Hermann, Sophia, and Gertrude.

In 1227 Elisabeth’s beloved husband, Ludwig IV, died. And the twenty-year-old Elisabeth was inconsolable. ‘The world and all its joys is now dead to me,’ she cried. The next year Elisabeth sent her children to stay with her aunt, formally ‘renounced the world’, gave away her inheritance, and joined the Franciscans, as the first tertiary in Hungary.

The queen now dedicated herself to serving beggars. She provided them with clothes and shoes – and agricultural tools. She opened the first orphanage in eastern Europe for destitute children. And, at the hospice she established in Marburg, she tended to the needs of dying lepers with her own hands – washing the sick and burying the dead.

On November 17^th 1231, Elisabeth died. Worn out as much by the lack of support that she got from her spiritual director, as from her implacable service to the poor. But, at the age of twenty-four, Elisabeth died one of the most influential activists in thirteenth century Europe.

The political philosopher, John Ralston Saul, says of Elisabeth, ‘She and Francis of Assisi were the most famous activists (of their day). To a great extent they laid out the modern democratic model of inclusion – an important step towards egalitarianism. Elisabeth used her position, as a member of the ruling class, to put the ideas into action.’

‘Like many others, she created a hospice. But unlike others, she went beyond pity and charity. She washed the sick and buried the dead. It is hard to imagine now the public impact of a royal figure washing the bodies of the homeless dead. Imagine the (President, Prime Minister – or the Governor General for that matter) not visiting or holding hands with street people, but (actually) washing their bodies for burial.’

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The challenge of Francis and Clare for us is to realise that we cannot change the system we inhabit, without changing the essential zeitgeist on which it is based and which gives it its political legitimacy.

We need to realise that we cannot change the Sovreign Borders Policies of neo-feudal Fortress Australia, by attacking the government and the wanna-be government-in-waiting, because – whether we like it or not – we need to acknowledge that they have the overwhelming democratic support of a paranoid population for their xenophobic policies. The more we attack these policies, which make people feel safe, the more fear we will induce, and the more likely it is they will support the policies we oppose.

Francis and Clare show that the way for us to change the system is to demonstate to people in our society that we don’t need the Sovreign Borders Policies of neo-feudal Fortress Australia because we don’t need to be afraid. We need to demonstrate that most of our fears are not real, only constructions of the powerful to justify their power – ostensbily so they might ‘better protect us’ – and those fears that are real can be managed sensibly and sensitively – with due regard for the welfare of everyone.

However, we cannot demonstrate to people in our society that we don’t need to be afraid, unless we, like Francis and Clare, overcome our fears, refuse to join the crusade for the inhumane treatment of others, lay aside our weapons of power and privilege, unlock the gates of our gated community castles, welcome outsiders in as friends we are yet to meet, and share our wealth with the poor who need our support. Only then will we be able to transform the zeitgest of our society and then, with the help of our compatriots, begin the task of deconstructing Fortress Australia and reconstructing Refuge Australia.

From recent painfiul experience we know that policies don’t change when parties change, but only change when there is public support for policy change.  When people live change and vote change politicians will follow the lead of the people – and change – to stay in power. Each of us, who feel inadequate, need to realise our capacity to act. And each of us, who feel afraid, need to realise our courage to act. Each of us, who feel impotent, need to recognise the potential of our actions. Each of us, who feel insignificant, need to recognise the consequences of our actions. Every act of truth is a victory over lies. Every act of love is a victory over hatred. Every act of nonviolence is a victory over brutality. Every act of kindness is a victory over cruelty. And every risk a person takes to make a stand, for peace and justice, however small, is a victory in the struggle to build to a better Australia – an Australia that is commited to the welfare of all .