Knowledge has always flowed upwards to bishops and kings, not

Hear the words of Julian Assange, who once declared with piercing clarity: “Knowledge has always flowed upwards to bishops and kings, not down to serfs and slaves.” These words are not merely observation, but accusation—revealing how through centuries, the rivers of knowledge have been dammed and diverted, hoarded by the few rather than shared with the many. They speak of the ancient struggle between power and truth, a struggle in which the rulers have often sought to preserve their strength by starving the ruled of enlightenment.

From the earliest days of civilization, knowledge was treated as treasure. The bishops held sacred texts, written in languages the common people could not read. The kings employed scribes, scholars, and astrologers to serve their courts, while the peasants labored in ignorance of the laws that bound them. By keeping knowledge flowing upward, power was secured. For to deny the serfs and slaves understanding was to ensure their obedience; an uneducated people may toil, but they cannot rise.

History gives us a vivid example in the Middle Ages, when the Bible was locked away in Latin. The priests alone could read it, and so the people depended upon them for access to the divine word. But when reformers like Martin Luther translated the scripture into the language of the people, the dam broke. The knowledge that had flowed upward began to flow outward, and with it came revolution—new churches, new freedoms, and the first steps toward literacy for all. Assange’s words echo this truth: the control of knowledge has always been the control of destiny.

Another example lies in the ancient world of Egypt, where the art of writing, the hieroglyphs, was the guarded secret of the priestly class. To write was to wield magic, to control records, to interpret the will of the gods. The slaves who built the pyramids knew nothing of the texts that justified their labor. Only the pharaoh and his priests possessed that knowledge, and so they ruled without question. This division of learning cemented hierarchy, keeping the masses in chains of both body and mind.

The meaning of Assange’s words is thus revealed: knowledge has been the lifeblood of power, and for most of history, it has flowed upward into the hands of rulers rather than downward into the hands of the people. The hoarding of truth preserves privilege. The release of truth threatens it. When knowledge is confined, injustice is perpetuated; when knowledge is shared, revolution stirs. This is why tyrants censor, why empires guard secrets, why despots fear the spread of literacy and information more than armies.

The lesson for us is urgent: if freedom is to endure, knowledge must flow not only upward but outward, to every man, woman, and child. Do not accept ignorance as fate. Seek learning wherever it may be found. Share truth openly, for each time knowledge is passed from one to another, the chains of servitude are weakened. Remember that secrecy, when wielded by power, often serves not protection but oppression.

And what actions must we take? Defend the free press. Protect libraries, schools, and open access to information. Teach those around you, and do not withhold what you know, even if it seems small. Resist those who seek to hoard or censor knowledge, whether in governments, institutions, or corporations. For every truth shared is a spark, and many sparks together can set the world ablaze with light.

Thus let Assange’s words be remembered: “Knowledge has always flowed upwards to bishops and kings, not down to serfs and slaves.” But this need not always be so. The task of our time—and of all ages to come—is to reverse the flow, to let truth descend like rain upon the earth, nourishing all alike. For only when knowledge belongs to the many will justice take root and freedom endure.