Legitimizing the State

This month marks the 800^th anniversary of the signing of the Magna Carta:

Magna Carta (Latin for "the Great Charter"), also called Magna Carta Libertatum (Latin for "the Great Charter of the Liberties"), is a charter agreed by King John of England at Runnymede, near Windsor, on 15 June 1215.  First drafted by the Archbishop of Canterbury to make peace between the unpopular King and a group of rebel barons, it promised the protection of church rights, protection for the barons from illegal imprisonment, access to swift justice, and limitations on feudal payments to the Crown, to be implemented through a council of 25 barons.

The anniversary will be marked by great events and great speeches.  Glorifying editorials will be written, for example this from Daniel Hannan:

Eight hundred years ago next month, on a reedy stretch of riverbank in southern England, the most important bargain in the history of the human race was struck. I realize that’s a big claim, but in this case, only superlatives will do.

See what I mean?

As Lord Denning, the most celebrated modern British jurist put it, Magna Carta was “the greatest constitutional document of all time, the foundation of the freedom of the individual against the arbitrary authority of the despot.”

The Magna Carta was not the foundation, but built on and documented relationships developed over centuries in the Middle Ages – medieval law.  In medieval law, there was no “arbitrary authority of the despot” as the king was also equally under the law, not above it.

It was at Runnymede, on June 15, 1215, that the idea of the law standing above the government first took contractual form.

I guess it depends on what one means by “contractual form.”  Law stood above the king for centuries before the existence of this document.  This was upheld by solemn oath, and adherence to the old and good law.  This tradition was overrun in England no later than 1066, by William the Conqueror.

It takes a real act of imagination to see how transformative this concept must have been. The law was no longer just an expression of the will of the biggest guy in the tribe. Above the king brooded something more powerful yet—something you couldn’t see or hear or touch or taste but that bound the sovereign as surely as it bound the poorest wretch in the kingdom. That something was what Magna Carta called “the law of the land.”

There was nothing new, or “transformative,” about this – for much of medieval Europe (to varying degrees in time and space), law was not “just an expression of the will of the biggest guy in the tribe.”

Common law is an anomaly, a beautiful, miraculous anomaly. In the rest of the world, laws are written down from first principles and then applied to specific disputes, but the common law grows like a coral, case by case, each judgment serving as the starting point for the next dispute. In consequence, it is an ally of freedom rather than an instrument of state control.

What an ugly way to develop “law”; bad precedent upon bad precedent.  Of course, basing law on first principles can also be dangerous, depending on the first principles.  The NAP, for example, wouldn’t make for a bad first principle.  In medieval time, the principal was “old” and “good.”  The older law took precedent over a contradictory newer law (hence, law had to be “discovered”); good law took precedence over bad – for example, slavery, although old, was not good.

Conceptually, however, how much better would be law based on sound “first principles”?  There is some underlying foundation, a guiding star by which to judge the law, some basis for consistency – not to the last precedent (which only serves to incrementally degrade the law), but the first – a real foundation.

I have written about Fritz Kern before and his book Kingship and Law in the Middle Ages.  I will copy liberally from my earlier post on this topic, entitled “A Written Constitution: Protecting the State from the People” (in italics):

Was there such a thing as a “constitution” in the Middle Ages?

The monarch was subject not to a specific constitutional check, but to the law in general, which is all-powerful and almost boundless in its lack of definition; he is limited by this law and bound to this law.

What we have seen of the concept of mediaeval law was described in my previous post:  the law was above both king and people.  Both were subordinate to it, and all (king and people) were bound to define it and protect it – each to his own understanding of “good” and old.”  Each person had veto power!

Such an environment, while somewhat unstable for the people, was even more so for the king.  He was only one man – a man with some form of kin-right or birth-right, eventually coming to be sanctified by the church, but still he was one man; and equally bound by and to the same law as all other men.  He was “controlled” by the law, not controller of it:

From the point of view of constitutional machinery, the control exercised in this way by the law will presumably be very incomplete and insecure – the very breadth of the mediaeval idea of law allows us to guess this.  But in theory there resulted a complete control of the monarch, a subjection to law so thorough that political considerations and reason of State were excluded and out of the question.

The written constitution offered security to the monarch; this is the conclusion of Kern.  With the security provided by the constitution, the monarch greatly expanded power; this is also the conclusion of Kern, and it is also the evidence of history.

Cheer all you want for this upcoming 800^th anniversary.  You can keep your written constitution; I would rather have an insecure king.

Decentralization Hidden in the Dark Ages

For longtime readers, this is a condensed version of the several posts I have made on this subject.  I have also added a minor amount of new material.

Examples of decentralized society in history are often hidden.  They are hidden because those in decentralized societies never bothered to keep records.  They are also hidden for the purposes of the current state.  I have previously written about anarchy in the Southeast Asian Highlands as one example.  Here, I will present the time of the Middle Ages as another.

This time offered a system of private law.  A law not based on the edicts of the king, but based on local tradition and culture.  The king was not above the law, but equally subject to it.  For law to be law, it must be both old and good.  Each lord had a veto power over the king and over each other law (I will use the term “lord” for those landed free men.  Even the serfs could not be denied their right without adjudication.  Land was not held as a favor from the king; title was allodial.  A man’s home truly was his castle.

Although the term has fallen out of use in the academic community, for many this period is known as the Dark Ages – with all of the associated stereotypes: barbarians, boorish behavior, and the uncivilized society that came to Europe with the fall of the much more civilized Rome.

From Wikipedia:

The Dark Ages is a historical period used for the first part of the Middle Ages. The term emphasizes the cultural and economic deterioration that supposedly occurred in Europe following the decline of the Roman Empire.  The label employs traditional light-versus-darkness imagery to contrast the "darkness" of the period with earlier and later periods of "light".

The (Not So) Dark Ages

How did people live absent a strong central power (Rome)?  In what manners was governance achieved?  How did such a society evolve over the centuries into the nation-states of Europe?  From whose perspective were these ages “dark”? 

Hans-Hermann Hoppe, in his essay entitled “On the Impossibility of Limited Government and the Prospects for a Second American Revolution,” makes reference to certain aspects of this time period in history:

Feudal lords and kings did not typically fulfill the requirements of a state; they could only "tax" with the consent of the taxed, and on his own land every free man was as much a sovereign (ultimate decision maker) as the feudal king was on his.

Tax payments were voluntary.  On his land, each free man was as sovereign as the king.  This doesn’t seem so “dark.”

Hoppe quotes Robert Nisbet:

The subordination of king to law was one of the most important of principles under feudalism.

The king was below the law.  This might be one factor as to why the time period is kept “dark.”

Hoppe references a book by Fritz Kern, “Kingship and Law in the Middle Ages.”  The book was originally written in German in 1914, and is a thorough and eye-opening examination of the relationship of king and lord during this time period, as well as the relationship of both king and lord to the law.  I will rely upon, and will quote extensively, from this book throughout this essay.  Except as noted, all quoted items will be from this book.

During the early Middle Ages, there was no concept of a Divine Right of Kings, nor did the earlier period hold to the idea of kingship by birthright.  These ideas developed over the centuries and only took shape in the late Middle Ages.  Contrary to these, in the early Middle Ages…

…an act of popular will was an essential element in the foundation of government….

To become king required consent of those doing the choosing.  Additionally, the king did not hold absolute power:

…even the rudiments of an absolutist doctrine had scarcely appeared.

Both the king and the people were subservient to the law – and not an arbitrary law, but a law based on custom, “the laws of one’s fathers.”

All well-founded private rights were protected from arbitrary change….

Germanic and ecclesiastical opinion were firmly agreed on the principle, which met with no opposition until the age of Machiavelli, that the State exists for the realization of the Law; the power of the State is the means, the Law is the end-in-itself; the monarch is dependent on the Law, which is superior to him, and upon which his own existence is based.

The king and the people were not bound to each other, but each was bound to the Law, giving all parties responsibility to see that the integrity of the Law is maintained.  A breech by one imposed an obligation on the other to correct the breech.  The relationship of each party (king and lord) was to the Law, not to the other party, and each had duty to protect it.

Contrast this to the situation today: whereas today it is an illegal act for the people to resist the government authority, during this period after the fall of Rome the lords had a duty to resist the king who overstepped his authority.  This is not to say that such challenges went unopposed by the king –physical enforcement by the lords was occasionally required – however, the act of resistance in and of itself was not considered illegal.  It was a duty respected by king and people alike.

A Written Constitution: Protecting the State from the People

This will be the final installment of my review of Fritz Kern’s Kingship and Law.  In the final section of his second chapter, he reviews the impact of a written constitution into the relationship of state, people and law.

In modern usage we mean by the term “Constitution” that part of the general legal order of a State which controls the powers of government and the mutual relations between the government and the subjects. 

Was there such a thing as a “constitution” in the Middle Ages?

The monarch was subject not to a specific constitutional check, but to the law in general, which is all-powerful and almost boundless in its lack of definition; he is limited by this law and bound to this law.

What we have seen of the concept of mediaeval law was described in my previous post:  the law was above both king and people.  Both were subordinate to it, and all (king and people) were bound to define it and protect it – each to his own understanding of “good” and old.”  Each person had veto power!

Such an environment, while somewhat unstable for the people, was even more so for the king.  He was only one man – a man with some form of kin-right or birth-right, eventually coming to be sanctified by the church, but still he was one man; and equally bound by and to the same law as all other men.  He was “controlled” by the law, not controller of it:

From the point of view of constitutional machinery, the control exercised in this way by the law will presumably be very incomplete and insecure – the very breadth of the mediaeval idea of law allows us to guess this.  But in theory there resulted a complete control of the monarch, a subjection to law so thorough that political considerations and reason of State were excluded and out of the question.

That the monarch faced the same insecurity and instability in the law as did the people was the most remarkable check on any potential abuse.  As opposed to modern, constitutionally defined states where it evolves that it is only the people that have to fear the law, in the mediaeval time all were equally subject to and therefore controlled by the law. 

For this reason the modern state feels free to create laws that run roughshod over private rights.  No list need be created to demonstrate this reality of every modern state.  Not in the Middle Ages:  “Nieman ist so here, so daz reht zware,” or “No one is so much lord that he may coerce the law.”

But in the Middle Ages, with their purely conservative idea of law, with their rejection of politics, their fusion of law and morals, and of ideal and positive law, could not recognize at all any law of the State which modified or destroyed these private rights.

The limitations thus placed on the mediaeval prince were, in theory, much greater than limitations placed on any constitutionally-enabled monarch or president:

For the latter can establish new law in conjunction with the other supreme constitutional organs, but the mediaeval monarch existed for the purpose of applying and protecting the good old law in the strictest imaginable sense. 

No one was “legislating” in the sense we understand that term today.

The mediaeval State, as a mere institution for the preservation of the law, is not allowed to interfere for the benefit of the community with private rights.

The State itself had no rights….  It can, for example, raise no taxes, for according to the mediaeval view, taxation is a sequestration of property.

It was the preservation of this good, old law that guaranteed the ruler security in his position and dominion. 

Eventually, through influence of the re-discovery of Roman law, through the introduction of oath taking in front of the bishop on the occasion of the new crown, the ideas behind mediaeval law slowly gave way.  In its wake arose absolutist states, ruthlessly encroaching on private rights.  This encroachment is what brought forward the idea of a written constitution – one designed to keep the state in check.

The mediaeval system, in theory, sounds fine – significantly better than the “theory” behind modern, constitutionally-enabled states.  The author, though sees the flaws of the mediaeval system in the execution – “the technical execution is defective.”

I keep in mind that this book was written in 1914.  The author did not have the luxury of seeing how defective the “technical execution” of constitutionally-enabled law would become.  Given the choice of one theory vs. the other, and each to come with some difficulty in execution, it would seem the mediaeval idea would result in a better condition for the people.  The time in which the author wrote this book can explain why he held the following belief about the security one held in a constitutionally-enabled state:

Today, the subject knows only two securities….  The one is that some rules of morality stand so firm that in the long run they can be abrogated by no State….  The other is participation in the government by popular representatives….

Suffice it to say that neither security survived long after the writing of the book.  Nothing stands in the way of the state and the abuse of morality, and “popular representatives” have created ways to profit from the system of government largesse.  Again, no list of abuses is necessary, I believe.

The written constitution has placed the state above the law – the state self-defines and self-interprets the constitution; this places the state in a position to decide what is law and what isn’t law. The only hope one has to influence this is to turn a minority into a majority.  Such a concept was unknown to the mediaeval mind – each individual held a form of veto.  No majority was necessary, and minority rights were fully protected – even for the minority of one.

It would seem, for this difference alone, one can conclude that society was not so “dark” in the Middle Ages, and one has only more reason to be saddened as to the place where modern “law” has taken society today.

As mentioned, with this I conclude my look into the book by Fritz Kern.  It was tremendously eye-opening for me, as I had virtually no understanding of the law as it was understood in the Middle Ages.  I anticipate I will look further into this as time goes by.

The Law (No, Not THAT One)

Here I do not refer to Frederic Bastiat’s classic work, but the law as understood in mediaeval times after and absent Rome, and before development of anything even modestly resembling today’s nation-state.

Fritz Kern explains this in the second and final section of his book, “Kingship and Law in the Middle Ages.”  The section is entitled “Law and Constitution in the Middle Ages.”  Here I will review his comments regarding the mediaeval law.

He begins by contrasting this historic law with what is defined as law today:

For us law needs only one attribute in order to give it validity; it must, directly or indirectly, be sanctioned by the State.  But in the Middle Ages, different attributes altogether were essential; mediaeval law must be “old” law and must be “good” law….If law were not old and good law, it was not law at all, even though it were formally enacted by the State.

Consider how pathetic our society would seem to someone coming from this past time that Kern describes.  He comes from a place that held that law was grounded in something more than the whims of the king.  He comes to a place where law is defined as anything goes.  And he sees a society beholden to this.

This mediaeval time traveler looks back to his time, and considers that for law to be law, it must be “old”:

Law was in fact custom.  Immemorial usage, testified to by the eldest and most credible people; the leges patrum, sometime but not necessarily proven by external aids to memory, such as charters, boundaries, law-books, or anything else that outlived human beings: this was objective law.  And if any particular subjective right was in dispute, the fact that it was in harmony with an ancient custom had much the same importance as would be given today to the fact that it was derived from a valid law of the State.

Further, he considers that the law to be law must be “good”:

Where we moderns have erected three separate alters, to Law, to Politics, and to Conscience, and have sacrificed to each of them as sovereign godheads, for the mediaeval mind the goddess of Justice is enthroned, with only God and Faith above her, and no one beside her.

The mediaeval mind did not separate justice from law – the law was to serve no other purpose, no other objective, no other god.

The law, in its majestic, inviolate simplicity, seemed to the people to be one great whole, which like Righteousness, was “God’s handmaid,” “giving to everyone what is his own.”

Giving to everyone what is his own.  A novel concept.  The monarch remained free to bestow privileges…

…so long as no one thereby suffers wrong.  He can, for example, make grants from his own possessions, so long as the community does not thereby suffer.

Consider the simplicity and justice of this moral sentiment.

As an example of an old custom that was not good – therefore not “law”, consider slavery: this was certainly old – it predated mediaeval times by countless centuries.  To the mediaeval mind, this was not sufficient to make such a custom valid.  Such custom was old, but not good.  The "laws" were born in force and unjust power.  They were custom, but unlawful.

The law, on the other hand, was always there, either discovered or waiting to be discovered.  That bad practice at times overtook the law does not change or replace the underlying “good” law.  This did not require a new law – law was not new, it was old.  It only required the discovery of the law – discovery in its most simple and direct sense; something that previously exists, waiting to be found.  “The old law is the true law, and the true law is the old law.”  One cannot be separated from the other.

In contrast, Kern offers further views on the law as it is today:

For us, the actually valid or positive law is not immoral but amoral; its origin is not in conscience, God, nature, ideals, ideas, equity or the like, but simply in the will of the State, and its sanction is the coercive power of the State.  On the other hand, the State for us is something holier than for mediaeval people….

What a miserable concept.

Every Individual Vested with Veto Power

Imagine the liberty in such a world.  Even if weighed down by a republican or democratic form of government, imagine if every legislator had such power.  Imagine no more: there was a time and place where this was quite true!  And no, the outcome was not chaos, but a true check on kingly abuse.

In the conclusion of the first part of his book Kern has written a summary of the major points he has raised.  I will freely make use of this summary, as he has organized the points far better than I could.

The relationship between monarch and subject in all Germanic communities was expressed by the idea of mutual fealty, not by that of unilateral obedience.

Especially in the time of the early Middle Ages, there was no concept of the king as sovereign.  There was also no concept of the people as sovereign. 

The king is below the law….if the monarch failed in these duties – and the decision of this question rested with the conscience of every individual member of the community – then every subject, every section of the people, and even the whole community was free to resist him, to abandon him, and to seek out a new monarch.

Both king and people had a duty to the law; the duty was not to each other.  Kern offers an example of King Clovis, who wished to retain a costly vase over and above his due in order to donate it to the church.  All agreed to this except one, who ended up enforcing his objection by smashing the vase.   It should be noted, the king found an indirect manner to exact revenge; this had to wait one year, based on an equally exaggerated instance where the king’s opponent stumbled in his duty and obligation. 

Note, neither the king nor the majority had authority to punish this act directly.  The only recourse was to find some other failure in the opponent and use this as a pretext for revenge.  It strikes me as a demonstration that the unyielding approach taken by the king’s opponent was not always the best idea.  More importantly, it was left open to each individual to decide where the line should be drawn.

As time passed, the right of each individual to object evolved into the right of the community.  But in no way did this change the fact that the king was held to be below the law.  Can you imagine if a single congressional representative (for example Ron Paul) had the authority to kill any proposed legislation?  While not the authority of the individual, still the idea that it takes unanimity for the state to act is a powerful idea.

Onto this secular element in mediaeval monarchy, the ecclesiastical theory of magistracy was grafted….the Church is authorized to declare the judgment of God.

The introduction of the Church into the relationship between king and people slowly began to change and somewhat diminish the authority of the people – it would seem to the benefit of both king and bishop.  The view of the church went from one of passive obedience to a sacramental consecration.

Any steps taken to sanctify the king, make him God’s chosen, would begin to diminish the role and manner the people had to resist the king’s authority – at the same time, increasing the church’s power.  In this, one can find the beginnings of what would become known as the divine right of kings.

The Road from Serfdom

Before I dive further into Kingship and Law, by Fritz Kern, I want to spend a few minutes on the topic of serfdom.  Kern spends much time on the relationship between the landed and the kings, what about those on the lower rungs of society’s ladder?

The term serfdom comes with a tremendously negative connotation.  However, when considering this institution of social structure it might be good to keep in mind:

Taxes levied by the state took the place of labour dues levied by the lord….Serfdom is an institution that has always been commonplace for human society; however, it has not always been of the same nature.

I mention this not to justify, compare, or romanticize.  However it might be beneficial to start with a bit of a cleaner sheet of mental paper when considering historical serfdom.  At least the serfs had no misplaced views about their lot in life.

Serfs who occupied a plot of land were required to work for the Lord of the Manor who owned that land, and in return were entitled to protection, justice and the right to exploit certain fields within the manor to maintain their own subsistence. Serfs were often required not only to work on the lord's fields, but also his mines, forests and roads. The manor formed the basic unit of feudal society and the Lord of the Manor and his serfs were bound legally, economically, and socially. Serfs formed the lowest social class of feudal society.

Given what I have read of the concept of “justice” in Kern’s book, this term takes on a meaning different than what is commonly used today.  To understand this concept of justice, the “law” of that time must first be understood.  Law was not defined as whatever is enacted by the state, but was defined by that which is “old” and that which is “good.”

Age was then the most important quality even of objective law.  Law was in fact custom….it is true that for law to be law, it had to be not only old, but also “good”….The law of nature of the Golden Age, in the ultimate analysis, stamped as unlawful every legal system resting upon the inequality of man.

This is not to say that there was no injustice.  Only that law was common, based on custom; it withstood the test of time; and it was applicable and applied to all.  Suffice it to say, serfs sat in a different class than did their lords – plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose – but they were on the same train.

A hint at the relationship is offered in the following 7th century Anglo Saxon "Oath of Fealty":

"By the Lord before whom this sanctuary is holy, I will to N. be true and faithful, and love all which he loves and shun all which he shuns, according to the laws of God and the order of the world. Nor will I ever with will or action, through word or deed, do anything which is unpleasing to him, on condition that he will hold to me as I shall deserve it, and that he will perform everything as it was in our agreement when I submitted myself to him and chose his will."

The serf pledged his loyalty to a lord who acted “according to the laws of God and the order of the world.”  His loyalty was conditional: as long as the lord acted in accordance with “our agreement when I submitted myself to him,” the serf was obliged to remain loyal to his oath.  There were remedies if the lord did not keep up his end of the bargain.  A serf was afforded several social and legal protections:

The landlord could not dispossess his serfs without legal cause and was supposed to protect them from the depredations of robbers or other lords, and he was expected to support them by charity in times of famine. Many such rights were enforcible by the serf in the manorial court.

Presumably being a serf was better than many alternatives available at the time – why would a serf insist on “legal cause” before being dispossessed by the lord?  Why not simply rejoice at being set free?  Why would the rulers establish courts if the relationship was totally one-sided (wait a minute, they do that today)?

The (Not So) Dark Ages

It has been some time since my last post.  I am not yet finished with my comments regarding the German expulsions after WWII, and will return to these in time.  In the meantime, I have been reading a book entitled “Kingship and Law.”  It is a fascinating book – covering the developing of kingship from the early Middle Ages until the late Middle Ages; more or less from the fall of Rome to the founding of modern nation-states.  From Amazon:

First published in 1914, this is one of the most important studies of early constitutional law. [Fritz] Kern [1884-1950] observes that discussions of the state in the ninth, eleventh and thirteenth centuries invariably asked whose rights were paramount Were they those of the ruler or the people? Kern locates the origins of this debate, which has continued to the twentieth century, in church doctrine and the history of the early German states. He demonstrates that the interaction of "these two sets of influences in conflict and alliance prepared the ground for a new outlook in the relations between the ruler and the ruled, and laid the foundations both of absolutist and of constitutional theory"

I have long-wondered about this period and this place – the European Middle Ages, at times referred to as “The Dark Ages.”  It is difficult to find good material in English that covers this subject in appropriate detail and in appropriate context – at least this is my experience so far.  However, I am curious about this time and space for several reasons: how did people live absent a strong central power (Rome)?  What does that lifestyle – economic, social, and political – suggest about what might lie ahead as today’s nation-state loses authority through broken promises and further decentralization?  In what manners was governance achieved?  How did this evolve over the centuries into the nation-states of Europe?  Why little written record?  From whose perspective were these ages “dark”?  What of the role of the growing Church?  What interaction was there between and among the church, the king, and the people?

In this blog I explore many areas – economic, political, and historical.  Mostly I am writing as I am learning, or writing in an effort to force myself to better develop my thoughts and opinions.  There are many who will say that I write about things I know only a little about.  If this is ever true, it is true here.  This period is “dark” to me, and this book is heavy – not in weight (Herbert Hoover and Gar Alperovitz have Kern whipped), but in depth.  If you want to walk along with my baby steps, this subject will certainly provide an appropriate pathway.

At this time, I will offer a few thoughts, and I will be necessarily vague due to my child-like understanding:

The early Middle Ages did not hold any concept of the Divine Right of Kings, nor did the earlier period hold to the idea of kingship by birthright.  These ideas developed over the centuries and only took shape in the late Middle Ages.

…an act of popular will was an essential element in the foundation of government….

The king did not hold absolute power:

…even the rudiments of an absolutist doctrine had scarcely appeared.

Both the king and the people were subservient to the law – and not an arbitrary law, but a law based on custom, “the laws of one’s fathers.”

All well-founded private rights were protected from arbitrary change….

Germanic and ecclesiastical opinion were firmly agreed on the principle, which met with no opposition until the age of Machiavelli, that the State exists for the realization of the Law; the power of the State is the means, the Law is the end-in-itself; the monarch is dependent on the Law, which is superior to him, and upon which his own existence is based.

The king and the people were not bound to each other, but each bound to the Law, giving all parties responsibility to see the integrity of the Law is maintained.  A breech by one party does not relieve the other of further obligation – the breech does not change the authority of the Law, and the relationship of each party is to the Law, not to the other party.

Much of this could be (superficially) said about governance today; however there is a key distinction: whereas today it is an illegal act for the people to resist the government authority, during this period after the fall of Rome the people had a duty to resist the king who overstepped his authority.  This is not to say that such challenges by the people went unopposed by the king – certainly, fighting of some sort was occasionally required – however, the act of resistance in and of itself was not considered illegal.  It was a duty respected by king and people alike.

Even after writing a few short words, I am feeling the weight of this book.  It is rather intense and eye-opening.  I will come back to it several times over the course of the coming weeks.

For whom was this period “dark”?  Why is it not further exposed?  The history of life without a state, or with a voluntary governance, or where the people had equal standing is rarely exposed in depth.

Perhaps this is one reason why the gatekeepers preferred to refer to this time as “the Dark Ages” (although I believe this terminology is in less use today in academic circles).  Not to be seen, not to be exposed, not to be instructive. 

Examples of governance in forms other than the modern nation-state are to remain unknown, barbarian, anarchic (in the worst definition of the term).  Rome serves as the model, not the dark age that followed. 

As today’s Rome (global government) is also in danger due to the attempt to carry too much weight, perhaps it can be instructive to examine what came next the last time such western power was brought back down to earth.