“When man darkens the sky, the earth becomes a desert: rediscovering the leadership of minority groups to disarm a world in conflict.”
In the beating heart of the Middle East, among the glass skyscrapers and squares steeped in history, a drama is unfolding that transcends geopolitics. It is the crisis of a model of authority that has decided to “hide God.” When power severs its connection to a higher responsibility, that metaphysical and moral dimension that imposes respect for the Absolute in man, it loses its sight. It becomes, in the most tragic sense of the term, a blind power.
The first victim of this blindness is the sacredness of existence. In contemporary “war materialism,” death has ceased to be a mystery to be honoured and has become an operational means. People no longer kill simply to defend, but to communicate a position; It is destroyed not out of necessity, but by statistical calculation.
However, the destruction of man has never generated peace, but only a “ghostly silence.” The illusion that a military victory can fill the void of meaning is the most dangerous lie of our time. Without a transcendent Horizon, the other ceases to be a brother and becomes “expendable biology.” The result is a desert of rubble and a hatred that, devoid of the balm of forgiveness, is passed down like a toxic legacy for generations.
This blindness extends beyond the battlefield, infecting the economy and technology. In economics, power untethered from ethics transforms profit into a cannibalistic idol: man is reduced to a “human resource,” a numerical cog to be optimised. In technology, the illusion of omnipotence pushes us to believe that everything technically possible is morally permissible.
In both cases, the absence of a transcendent Horizon creates a “throwaway society.” It is the “soft” version of war materialism, which uses algorithms rather than missiles to marginalise humanity and hide fragility under the veil of productive efficiency.
Is there an alternative to this anthropological darkness? The answer lies in a gesture made eight centuries ago, yet more relevant than ever: the meeting of Saint Francis of Assisi with Sultan Malik al-Kamil. In the midst of the Crusade, Francis proposed the Leadership of the Minority.
The “minor” leader is not the weak, but the one who has the courage to be disarmed. In the Middle East, this model today inspires a “Track II Diplomacy” (unofficial diplomacy) that seeks not technical compromise, but the reconciliation of hearts. It is a leadership that lives at the grassroots, that speaks of the shared management of resources and the protection of creation, starting from the assumption that the good of others is a necessary condition for one’s own good.
The final challenge belongs not only to diplomats, but to each of us. Franciscan leadership is, first and foremost, an interior attitude for anyone who holds responsibility:
- Disarming Language: Renouncing drone-like words that wound from a distance.
- Inhabiting Proximity: Preferring listening to judgment, “motherhood” to punishment.
- Recognising Limits: Accepting that we are not masters of life, but its custodians.
Life regains meaning only when power “removes its blindfolds” and recognises God in the face of the enemy. Putting God at the centre does not mean imposing a religion or an ideology, but remembering that man is sacred.
Francis’s example in the desert sands teaches us that a world without God can be built, but that world will inevitably end up devouring its children. Choosing to lead the minority today means having the audacity to believe that true victory is not the annihilation of the adversary, but the rediscovery of a lost brother.
Fr Tony Shoukri OFM
Guardian Beirut
