Chapter 31 in the serialisation of the book 'Insurrection' 4th book in the 'Corpalism' series

31

The government, which was designed for the people,
has got into the hands of the bosses and their employers, the special interests.
An invisible empire has been set up above the forms of democracy.
Woodrow Wilson

The room had emptied slightly; Nobby had left with Mort, ostensibly to take him back to his room for his medication and a lie down. He planned to use the opportunity for a stiff drink to calm his nerves. The mistreatment of a U.S citizen was causing him concern and a split loyalty with regard to his antecedents was giving him a headache. Gil had done the same for Reg, despite his muttering that he was quite capable of walking by himself, thank you very much. Although these departures had created a restlessness in those left behind no-one else looked like leaving, ‘more excitement than they’d had in years’ was the main audible comment.

“There was a fear in the West in '54,” began Bob, “within the corporate world, that communism would win. There was growing anti-American feeling spreading across the world and it sent a lot of people into a near state of panic.”

“McCarthyism,” whispered Dora.

“We’d had the McCarthy purges in the US,” said Bob, “and weeded out potential traitors but in so doing, we also turned off a lot of Europeans. We stopped the spread of communism but strengthened the left wing groups in Europe and they had to be stopped.”

“That’s ridiculous,” stated Esmé, “those poor people weren’t communists; they were just liberal minded individuals who were standing up for the rights of ……”

“Appreciate the sentiment but if we could come back to that later,” said Mackie.

“It needs to be said,” pressed Esmé. She rammed her bottom lip upwards and, frowning heavily, stared at Bob.

Bob shook his head and took another sip, looking up at his interrogator, “Ok, what now?”

“Continue from where you left off,” Mackie said, fixing Esmé with a commanding stare.

“As I was saying before the lady interrupted, key members of the aristocracy, the industrialists, bankers, CEOs whatever, you name it, they all got their invites to attend a meeting held at the Bilderberg Hotel in Holland.”

“Is this about the Illuminati?” said Bill, “Because if it is then it’s a load of rubbish.”

“No, it’s not about the Illuminati,” said Mackie, “now please stop interrupting.”

There was a rustling of indignation in the room; they hadn’t got as old as they were only to be told what to do by an interloper with bushy eyebrows. Alb stood up quickly and made conciliatory gestures and the noises subsided. Gil and Nobby used that moment to slip unnoticed into the back row, Nobby slightly inebriated but mellow.

“You gotta remember, back in ’54 we were at the height of the Cold War," said Bob, "It got serious back then, we were dealing with the end of democracy, the end of our freedoms, the damned commies were winning for Christ’s sake, they were outperforming us everywhere and they’d just bled us dry in the Korean War. People didn’t have the stomach for fighting anymore. Something had to be done to stop the spread of communism.”

At the mention of the Korean War a collective sigh went round the room, a memory shared.

Bob raised his empty glass and Mackie refilled it, “So they met, the most powerful and wealthy people in the west and they discussed what should be done to put the world back on track.”

“They discussed how to beat the spread of communism, you mean,” said Bill.

“Exactly,” said Bob.

“So what’s all the fuss about?” demanded Bill.

“I would imagine that you include socialism in that statement,” said Dora.

“Socialism is communism by stealth,” hissed Bob.

“That’s a matter of opinion,” said Ron, stung.

“Back to ‘54,” said Mackie, throwing a dark look at Mags. She raised her shoulders helplessly.

“I don’t think you’ve been listening,” said Esmé, roused by Dora and Ron's courageous interjections. She was bobbing up and down, trying to make eye contact with Bill whose comment had enraged her, “they were trying to stop the spread of social freedoms in the west.”

Ron’s head was nodding his head up and down, he’d not realised Esmé and Dora were of a socialist bent.

“That’s not what he said,” argued Bill.

“I think you’ll find it’s exactly what he was saying,” said Fiona, tartly.

Mackie glared at each one individually, daring a further comment then signalled for Bob to continue.

Bob shook his head wearily, bloody Brits, they just don't get it, then he tried again, “They had to infiltrate and destroy the left wing movements, they had to get control of the media so they could influence the public and they had to gain political power. So that’s what they did.”

“What does that mean, exactly?” asked Harry.

“Looking for ways to control us,” said Dora, her tone flat.

“No, you’re wrong,” argued Bill. Dora turned her back towards him.

Bob was still speaking, “In a lot of countries it seemed to work fine, mainly third world countries, Asia, Africa and South America but the Europeans were a bit trickier.”

“What about Britain?” asked Val, determined her voice should be heard, “what did you do here?”

“They blackened Harold Wilson and the Labour party for a start,” said Ron.

“Well, that would’ve been easy enough,” sniped Bill.

“Hah!” said Bob, his face alive with malice, “you got no idea how deep we got into your poxy little country.”

Bill’s shoulders jerked back and his chin jutted out; he saw no need for insults and disparaging comments.

“Where'd 'you think the IRA got its funding? That was us.”

"But the US backed us against the IRA," said Ron.

"Jeez," said Bob, "look fella, the politicians say one thing and then tell the agency to do something different; we were solid with the IRA."

"Let's leave the Irish thing alone for a bit," said Mackie, sensing this could go on a while and would lose him his audience.

"No!" said Lenny, angrily, "I want to know what he's talking about, I lost some good mates to those bastards and I want to know what went on."

“We’re digressing,” said Mackie, directing his gaze at Lenny, trying to calm the man by dint of personality, “keep it strategic, please Bob.”

“Strategic, right,” said Bob, “so, the Bilderberg’s determined that America was the most powerful country in the west, economically the strongest and, therefore, the country best placed to plough the furrow.”

“What’s he talking about?” asked Fiona, hissing in Pete's ear.

“It was decided that all western investments and political drive would be put into the US and global dominance would come from her ability to put troops on the ground anywhere in the world.”

“What does this all mean, Mackie?” asked Mags, the question on her lips sounding more imperative to him.

Mackie signalled Bob to wait and then addressed her question, “At this meeting of the wealthy members of the western world they decided they had to take control of where the west was headed; to avoid it slipping into communism.”

“I got that,” said Mags, snippily, “but what’s he talking about now?”

“The group still meets up every year. It calls itself the Bilderberg group, after the hotel. The crux of matter is that they are the real rulers of the western world, not our governments.”

His words echoed round the room. There was a moment’s hush, then a buzz of mumbled incomprehension and mutterings of ‘what did he say?’ from several of those caught napping and murmurs of ‘I don’t understand.’ from those that did hear.

Finally Alb spoke loudly for all of them, “What do you mean, they’re the real rulers?”

“The most powerful people in the world, the richest people in the world,” said Mackie, a shrug evident in his shoulders, the nearest they would get to an apology from the messenger, “They meet and discuss what should happen and then they send the politicians to do their bidding. Unelected and unaccountable rulers, a bit like kings and queens, you might say.”

“And they're called the what?” said Dora, her voice high with tension.

“The Balderbags,” said Ron, knowledgeably, he’d been listening.

“Bilderbergs,” corrected Harry, absently, still trying to process the message.

“But what does any of this mean?” demanded Bill, “and is it so bad if all they’re doing is trying to fight communism?”

Mackie nodded at him, “When they formed the battle was against communism. But once formed they attacked everyone, even those who were just a little bit to the Left of centre. They did it here in the UK as well. We let them do it.”

“Why?” demanded Mags, "We were always fighting the enemy, I was fighting the enemy, and our boys were fighting the enemy."

Gerry growled something in support, his face an unhealthy puce. He was trying without much luck to control the effects of Mackie’s words on his blood pressure.

"Not so, Margo," said Mackie, "we were fighting to build private fortunes for the hidden few. And everything that destabilised the western world was conceived and formulated by the Bilderbergs.” He waved his hand towards Bob, who was a bit glassy eyed now having polished off quite a bit of scotch, “Bob, examples please.”

“You want general or UK only?”

“General will do,” said Mackie.

“Hah!” said Bob, “JFK.”

“You killed JFK?” said Sticky, the scale of this just percolating his brain.

“No way,” growled Wilf.

“OK, no, we didn't,” agreed Bob airily.

“Wait a minute,” Mackie intervened, anxious to avoid being side-tracked, “let me explain. The powers that be, we’ll call them the Bilderbergs for ease, the Bilderbergs decide what they want to happen and they formulate an outline plan for it. So if we take a recent example, 9/11 for instance….”

“9/11?” repeated Nobby, inebriated or not, this was not acceptable, “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“If you’ll give me a moment,” said Mackie, “you need to understand, the Bilderbergs will have sat round the table and the topic of Peak Oil will have come up…”

“Peak Oil?” Sticky squeaked.

“What’s Peak Oil?” asked Esmé. It sounded like something she might need to protest about.

Bob sighed, “There’s a finite amount of easily accessible oil in the world, and we’ve already got to most of it. But the West needs oil. Can’t exist without it. Industry would collapse, economies would collapse, we’d be thrown back into the dark ages if we ran out of oil.”

He waited for comments that didn't come then continued, “So the Bilderbergs decided that the West….”

Mackie broke in, “Bearing in mind that the most powerful voices in the Bilderbergs belong to the industrialists, the CEOs, the rich, the bankers etc…..”

“Ok,” said Bob, glaring at Mackie, “the wealthiest people in the world are members of the Bilderbergs so they decided that they had to have control of the remaining oil fields in the Middle East, and as they had influence over the US….”

“Influence?” questioned Mackie.

“As they owned the US government,” Bob amended, “it was decided that America, having had all the military investment, would be the country to lead the assault on the oil fields.”

“But that’s rubbish,” Gerry had had enough, “they went into the Middle East because of 9/11.”

“Just continue, Bob,” instructed Mackie, putting his finger out to forestall further outbursts.

“The Bilderbergs wanted to control the oilfields, they wanted the US to provide the hardware and the troops on the ground, they just needed a pretext.”

“9/11,” offered Mags.

“What the hell does that mean?” demanded Gerry, “you’re not going to tell me that the Bilderbergs did 9/11.”

“Jesus,” sighed Bob, “is this guy for real?”

“The Bilderbergs determine policy,” said Mackie, turning towards Gerry for a moment then back to the rest of the room, “and then contract it out to specific corporate bodies or to specific governments. In this instance they contracted out the hit on the twin towers to Al Qaeda. Demolition was pre-positioned in the buildings by Mossad and the subsequent invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq was left to the US. Blair was roped in to give the American initiative impetus, because Bush was such a fop.”

“Wait a minute,” said Harry, “how does that work?”

“Look,” said Bob, irritably, "I could tell you folks everything, but the whole thing is so large, so huge that you could never fully understand it. Heck, I was involved and I don’t understand it. I don’t even know who did what or who gained, all I know is our overall strategic aim was to get control of the last big oil reserves for western corporations before the Middle East tore itself apart."

“Let me get this straight,” said Ron, standing up to make his point, “are you seriously suggesting there is a group of super elites who run the world? Who meet secretly every year and decide what’s going to happen in the world?”

“Not secretly, bold as brass, but yeah,” said Bob.

“And they tell political leaders what to do?” said Ron.

“Now you're getting it,” said Bob.

“But that’s impossible,” said Val, “I mean we’d know, wouldn’t we?”

“How would you know?” asked Mackie, “These people are very good at what they do. We had 9/11 and for about a year it was accepted without question. Then people began to ask questions, to doubt the official version, to ask how it was that those buildings could actually collapse.”

“That just shows we are able to question, what's your point?” said Bill.

“They reacted,” said Mackie, “in 2005 the price of oil started to rise. Three years later, after enough stress had been created in the lower end of the economy, when enough lower class households had been placed under enough pressure and the banks had exposed themselves enough we had the greatest financial crisis the world has ever known.”

"What does all that mean?" demanded Alb.

“Who is asking about 9/11 now?” asked Mackie, “Only the families of the deceased. That's my point, everyone else is too worried about their finances, losing their jobs, prices in the shops.”

“You can't mean...?” Dora was appalled, the answer to awful to contemplate.

“They created the recession. That's exactly what he means, Dora,” supplied Harry.

“But how is that possible?” asked Val.

“Because it’s not a real recession,” said Mackie, “they created the pressures that brought it on and they can remove them when they want. They can print more money as and when they like. They are in control of the whole thing, they control the whole game.”

“This is too weird,” said Sticky.

“No, it's very simple," said Mackie, “once you accept the basic premise of a group of really rich people, all nationalities, who meet every year and decide what needs to happen to ensure their continued prosperity." He stared out at their shocked faces, "Once decided they subcontract the relevant tasks down to political leaders or to CEOs of lesser or different corporations. QED.”

“But what’s that got to do with our plans to hit back at the Muslims?” Frank had found his voice.

Mackie stared at him.

“He's saying they aren’t the problem,” said Tom, turning to address Frank.

“They are pawns,” said Mackie, “moved around a global chess board.”

“So whenever they want something to happen...” offered Val.

“They just move a pawn,” said Mackie. He was growing tired now; if they hadn't grasped the message after all this effort then too bad; they weren't worth any more of his time.

"Are we pawns now?" asked Gerry, truculently, "Are you telling us the truth or are you using us to do your dirty work?"

"Truth be told, you can do as you please. Take it or leave it, I did a favour for a friend coming here," He glanced over at Mags and crinkled his eyes, "the rest is up to you."

He poured two generous drinks, palmed a small tablet into one of the glasses, paused to swish it about, then, handed it to Bob asking, "Are you ready to go?"

Bob nodded, they clinked glasses, raised a toast, "To those who believe," and downed their drinks in one swallow. Thirty seconds later Bob was dead.

Cheers for reading

Arun







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