I read another article yesterday from someone a little younger than me, lamenting the loss of a childhood hero, David Attenborough, to globalist technocracy. This sense of betrayal is not uncommon, and is something I’ve both felt and written about myself, having followed his nature programmes and books from as far back as 1959.
Now, it is quite possible that Attenborough’s embracing of the “human parasite” utopian ideology, most clearly seen in last year’s documentary on the supposed state of the planet, was present all along, but kept private (as, still, is the open expression of his eugenicist approach to human population). But whether or not that is the case, his “usefulness to the cause” depends on his public image as an elder statesman of the natural world, just as Greta Thunberg’s depends on her high profile as an untainted child savant.
And in general, it seems that there are three main kinds of influencers in the world (both for good and evil), all of whom usually depend on their high public profile for their effectiveness. To quote Sting:
Poets, priests and politicians
Have words to say for their positions
Words that scream for your submission
And no-one’s blocking their transmission.
And so great political leaders rally their people around their cause, whether they are heroic democrats like Winston Churchill, or single-minded autocrats like Napoleon Buonaparte. Margaret Thatcher and Pol Pot might use different methods to engender popular support, but no regime can last long without it, whether earned or manufactured.
Behind them stand the “poets, “the prophets who are theoreticians and dreamers, the Karl Marxes, Friedrich Nietzsches or Edmund Burkes, building either utopian schemes or sensible theories. Fewer read their works than listen to Presidential addresses, but the political leaders are full of their praises, establishing Marxist revolutions or advocating a return to Burkian conservatism. Or they may simply write in their memoirs, or repeat on TV interviews, how indebted they were to the political thinking of some great minds of the past, such as the writers of the US Constitution.
An interesting, and rare, variant on these is someone like Niccolo Machiavelli, who is hugely influential on politicians and how they rule, but who is seldom trumpeted because leaders don’t like to appear manipulative and scheming even when they are. In any case, the success of Machiavelli’s advice would appear to rely on the fact that the broad masses don’t see behind the curtain past the public image of the mighty Prince.
“Priests” may be literal religious leaders, such as the Great Reformers advising or inspiring the Elector of Hanover or Oliver Cromwell, or secular priests of Climate Change or Critical Theory. But they too are customarily lauded publicly for their wisdom, real or supposed. Anthony Fauci’s power rests on his acclamation as a health guru, as does Neil Ferguson’s over here (God help us), whose computer code is as ambiguous and impenetrable as the writings of George Gurdjieff. The latter’s writings, thankfully, appear to have had little influence on world leaders. As far as one can tell, Billy Graham’s advice to several US presidents was benign, and did not profit him materially, but the public knowledge of his relationship was of significance to the reputations both of Graham and those Presidents. In any case, it was his high profile that led Presidents to consult him in the first place: no politician has even called up my pastor for help.
On the other hand, the phenomenon of “the power behind the throne” remains extremely potent. Whoever is discussing the “Deep State” that is behind all that the Western “Empire of Lies” gets up to, they speak of the movers and shakers as “They, whoever ‘they’ are.” A few names come up (seldom those of elected leaders), but their role, and whether they are autonomous or controlled by others, remains shadowy. The legend of the “Illuminati” is now, essentially, an undeniable truth, but nobody is sure whether Rosicrucian bloodlines, Mafia-controlled intelligence agencies, or just elite Groupthinks, call the shots.
Against this background, I find Klaus Schwab to be an interesting anomaly. He’s not a politician, elected or otherwise, or even the appointed head of a proper supranational entity like the UN. The World Economic Forum is an elite club rather than an NGO, and as its founder Schwab plays a role more like a prophet or a high-priest than a politician.
He writes its books, and so presumably it is his theories that form its agenda. Certainly in the videos one sees from his addresses on the Davos stage, or from his office to… whoever their intended audience might be, he speaks as if he is the Mastermind of change. So he speaks of WEF Global Leaders like Justin Trudeau and Jacinda Ardern as if they were his personal appointees. He even speaks of Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin that way, raising fears that they too are part of the Globalist plot, though recent events make that increasingly hard to credit, short of an impossibly tight and over-engineered conspiracy. “Our plan” sounds, in his speeches, like “my plan,” and those experts and leaders making other speeches at Davos sound as if they are merely putting bureaucratic flesh on the bones of his wisdom.
In other words, from what we can easily see, hear and read of Schwab, he most resembles either a one-man economic think-tank or a cult leader. His rich and powerful acolytes come across as those in thrall to some kind of Rasputin figure. One would therefore expect the political and industrial leaders to refer to him constantly in their mission statements and policy documents. “As my friend, the brilliant Klaus Schwab, once told me…” “Guided by the economic theories Klasus Schwab has explained to us over many years, our industry intends to …”
If he were merely a theorist, and his followers students, one would expect political leaders to be critical in their endorsement. “I am a great supporter of Schwab’s WEF, though I doubt his policy on private property would work in this country…” After all, even Christian teachers, despite the trope that religions are all about authoritarian dogma, encourage critical appraisal, like the speaker at Greenbelt, of all venues, who warned us ordinary believers, “Watch Moltmann – he’s dodgy on some things, but on this subject he’s great.”
But we don’t hear any of that. There is neither nuanced discussion nor cultic adulation of Schwab’s ideas. Though the movers and shakers dutifully turn out to Davos in their private jets year after year, paying through their shareholders’ or taxpayers’ noses to do so, none of them ever seems to mention the man himself back home. In fact, when questions are raised about him and his work by critics, all knowledge of Schwab seems to be denied. In the Australian Parliament, a question about the Great Reset was answered by the rebuke that it is a mere conspiracy theory. In the Danish Parliament, the Prime Minister denied all knowledge of Schwab’s book on the subject, but was exposed as having personally thanked him for sending it to him, “a valuable contribution.” In the Canadian Parliament, a question about whether Schwab’s claim to have infiltrated cabinets applied to Canada was first pretended to be inaudible and invisible on the video system, and then dismissed outright.
Now, it’s not as if Schwab is an entirely shadowy, secretive figure. He rejoices in his role in the WEF, collects a big salary and the usual perks, and allegedly lords it over his minions, sacking one who dared to use his private parking space at the WEF HQ while he was away. His videos are widely available on the Internet, and WEF publicity mentions him frequently.
And yet those videos are never shown on the news media, any more than his name is mentioned. Even reports of the Davos meeting seems to concentrate on the star attendees (like Bono – who fits neatly into the “priest” category, like Attenborough and Thunberg), rather than on the guy who writes the script and organises the whole show. I’m not aware of any Panorama documentaries on him, especially any that question his radical proposals to change the world and their actual impact on politics in the last few years. Who can believe that it is coincidental that the most totalitarian responses to COVID came from national leaders most closely associated with the WEF, or that even when that association was less clear (such as in Britain or the US) Boris Johnson and Joe Biden used Schwab’s slogans religiously?
Yet uniquely among the world’s influencers he appears to have no actual disciples keen to confess their debt to his thought, as if they were Nicodemus afraid of his place in the Sanhedrin if he confessed Jesus. Schwab seems to hover between being a reputation-hungry cult leader seeking to change the world and establish his name as a messiah, and the priest of a mystery religion for the rich and powerful, whose name and esoteric teachings must not actually be spoken.
I’m really not sure of the explanation for this, but I can’t think of one that isn’t sinister. As I’ve mentioned in a previous blog, Klaus Schwab comes across so much like a James Bond evil genius that it’s as if someone has put him in that theatrical role to distract attention from the real people behind the curtain. It’s often said how Deep State operators such as intelligence chiefs or senior civil servants regard politicians as mere temporary interlopers to be worked like puppets. We saw that in action when Donald Trump wasn’t in on the plan, and tried to thwart it. Maybe Schwab has been put up as a similar figurehead, for the schmucks at Davos to admire or anti-globalists to tilt at, whilst the real conspirators – and maybe even the real plan – remain unsuspected in their private fiefdoms.
