Beatus & The Dragon

There is a story, half-legend, half-history, that has always fascinated me — not only for its drama, but for the rich metaphor it holds for our own age. It is the story of Saint Beatus, after whom the famous Beatus Caves in Switzerland are named.

In my book Grassroots – Dawn of Transformation, I use this legend as a powerful illustration of why some dragons must be slain — yes, even the modern ones. Of course, in our day, the “dragons” are not scaled, fire-breathing beasts, but rather domineering systems of governance, hungry for treasure that is not gold, but the people’s most precious things: their freedoms, their voice, and their future.

The story begins far from Switzerland. According to the monk Justus of St Gall, Beatus was a Briton by birth. By the 13th to 15th centuries, British chroniclers had woven his origins into the fabric of Glastonbury lore — the same Glastonbury linked to Joseph of Arimathea, who, tradition says, brought the Holy Grail to Britain and founded its first Christian community.

Beatus is said to have been a convert of Joseph’s disciples — raised in that early community where faith was young and still close to its source. Barnabas, the one who baptised him, had been a companion of Paul of Tarsus, a tireless preacher who brought Christianity into the Roman world. From Britain, Beatus travelled to Rome, where he spent time with Peter the Fisherman. It was Peter who sent him to the distant land of Helvetia — today’s Switzerland — accompanied by a fellow evangelist named Achates.

Following the Aare River through the Bernese Oberland, they came at last to the shores of Lake Thun. There, high above the water, was a sheer limestone cliff honeycombed with natural caves. A subterranean river ran through them, emerging in a cascade of water before tumbling down to the lake. To the eyes of a man steeped in the imagery of Scripture, the flowing water must have seemed like the Spirit itself, “pouring” life into a thirsty land. Perhaps, standing there, Beatus thought: This is the place from which I must conduct my mission.

But the people warned him — the caves were home to a dragon.

It was said to poison springs, devour livestock, and strike terror into the hearts of villagers. Unshaken, Beatus climbed to the mouth of the cave armed only with the cross and his faith. In the darkness, the beast emerged — eyes glowing like coals, breath like sulphur. Beatus raised his cross, prayed, and commanded it to depart in the name of Christ. With a roar, the dragon fled into the lake and was never seen again.

From then on, the caves were his home. He preached to the locals, brought many to faith, and came to be known as the “Apostle of Switzerland.” He died there around 112 AD, over ninety years old, and his burial place became a site of pilgrimage. Even today, the Beatushöhlen draw visitors, and the nearby village bears his name — Beatenberg, “Beatus’s Mountain.”

Excerpt from Grassroots – Dawn of Transformation

As Beatus lay down, drifting into a deep sleep, a voice resonated through the cave, "Beatus, Beatus, will you help set the people free?" The sound system subtly echoed the plea around the chamber, creating a hauntingly immersive effect. Startled, I snapped back to reality, momentarily admiring the impressive amplification. But almost immediately, I was drawn back into the unfolding drama. In his sleep, Beatus responded, his voice filled with earnestness, "Tell me, Master, what am I to do?"

Before our eyes, a dreamlike sequence unfolded, as the voice began to describe the dragon that terrorized the citizens of the forest and surrounding countryside. "This dragon, Beatus, is like no other," the voice intoned, "for it has the people firmly in its iron grip. It guards the treasure it has stolen, protecting its wealth, power, and privileges with ruthless determination. This creature wields immense influence, control, and authority."

The voice continued, "It rules through fear, dividing the people and setting them against each other. It is daunting, making the common folk believe that no ordinary person can challenge or confront it." The words echoed ominously through the chamber. "This beast is resistant to change, clinging tenaciously to its long-held ways of maintaining control. It devours all dissent, crushing or absorbing any hero or challenger that dares stand in its way."

The description grew more intense, "It ensures that its power is never neutralized by silencing dissenting voices and movements. Its fiery breath unleashes powerful, destructive forces against those who oppose it. The dragon controls all narratives, threatening impoverishment to coerce obedience. Its malevolent presence is a constant reminder of the peril that awaits anyone who dares to defy its reign."

As I reflect on Beatus’s dragon, I cannot help but see in it the shadow of powers we still face today — entrenched systems that guard their privileges as fiercely as any mythical beast.

Excerpt from Grassroots – Dawn of Transformation

My thoughts wandered to Beatus and the dragon he faced, which seemed to me to be a mythical reflection of the powers I might encounter in my pursuit of direct democracy. These modern-day "dragons" were like formidable creatures perched atop lofty mountains or isolated fortresses, symbolizing the Establishment's supremacy in society—distant, disconnected, and wielding immense power.

The metaphor of the dragon vividly portrayed the Establishment's fierce defence of its interests and its ability to maintain dominance, seemingly impervious to the winds of change and reform. This Establishment, in its negative connotation, represents a dominant elite entrenched in politics and governance, characterized by several defining traits.

Firstly, it embodies entrenched power, holding sway over political, economic, and social systems through traditional bureaucratic methods rather than democratic processes. Secondly, it resists change that threatens its status quo, prioritizing self-preservation over societal progress. This self-interest is evident in how its members prioritize personal wealth and influence over the broader electorate's needs.

Moreover, the Establishment engages in exclusionary practices, marginalizing dissenting voices and alternative viewpoints to maintain its grip on power. It manipulates democratic processes through media control, lobbying, and financial influence, distorting genuine representation. This manipulation often results in a perceived lack of accountability, where those in power evade consequences for unethical or undemocratic actions.

In essence, it seems to me that the Establishment embodies a self-serving elite that undermines democratic principles, using its power to perpetuate its own interests at the expense of the general population's welfare and aspirations.

As I reflected on these challenges, I understood that overcoming these modern-day dragons would require steadfast determination, strategic planning, and the courage to confront entrenched interests for the greater good of democratic reform.

I eagerly anticipated my next discussion with Pierre on how Switzerland's cantonal and communal system disperses power, potentially wielding the sword that could diminish our political dragon to mere smoke, akin to Beatus's feat. All that remained was to have faith.

In myths, dragons are more than monsters — they are symbols of overwhelming, oppressive forces. In life, they may take the form of regimes, institutions, or entrenched elites who wield their power to resist change. To slay such a dragon is to liberate a people, to replace fear with hope, and to turn the tide toward justice.

The story of Beatus, born in England yet called to serve in Switzerland — the home of the world’s only true direct democracy — is one of those rare threads that link the past to our present struggles. Whether that link still speaks to us today… I leave for you to decide. 🐉😀