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Plan of Action
A Footnote to America's War
Last December, in America's War, I reached a provisional conclusion about the source of our recent troubles. I spoke of an alliance between deep-state America and its corporate partners, before referring to a document from the Rockefeller stable produced for the 2013 Global Health Summit in Beijing.
Dreaming the Future of Health posited, among other things, a decline in the independence of nation-states: "The power of states and their ability to provide an effective nexus between the local and global levels may diminish in the face of growing megacities, local identity politics, increasing social exclusion, increasing private influence on all spheres of life, widening liberalisation and stronger global networks." That diminishment, I observed,
is foreseen for America, too, but America must meanwhile play a leading role in the creation of world governance, as John D. Rockefeller Jr himself did. Whatever is to emerge at the head of a new world order—I call her Shelob, and doubt not that she already exists embryonically—will do so by way of a web that cannot be spun without America's assistance. The web itself is woven from industry and philanthropy; or, more truly spoken, from seduction and insecurity, from desire and fear. These have been made to converge, ironically, in health. Dreaming the Future of Health for the Next 100 Years provides a blueprint for the idolization of "health" the world over, and this new loyalty, though at first state-based, will soon lift the burden of national loyalties.
Two items have come to my attention recently that confirm this general sense of things. One is Jacob Nordangärd's book on the Rockefellers, which I had not yet seen. The other is something I should have seen: the Kissinger Report, which has now brought Robert Malone around, not only to something like my view in America's War, but to the conviction that we have been suffering from a new and more urgent execution of the population reduction agenda that, as official U.S. government policy, dates back to the seventies.
I want to offer a few thoughts on the latter, not only as a footnote to America's War, which gave only limited attention to the depopulation agenda, but apropos of my present series on the Public Health revolution. Thoughts on the former, which I am finding very useful, can await my reading of Nordangärd's new book, The Global Coup d’état.
The Kissinger Report, Implications of Worldwide Population Growth For U.S. Security and Overseas Interests (NSSM 200, 1974), lays out the trajectory for a half-century of government sponsored crimes against humanity. It was declassified in 1990 and made widely available in 2016, together with its executive order of the following year, NSDM 314, and a host of other declassified documents and memos. Christopher Hitchens was already writing in 2004 about what it revealed, one feature of which is suitably captured in the expression “pornography of power” that he directed against Kissinger in connection with events in South America.
Hitchens does not touch on depopulation, as do Gavid DeBecker and Robert Malone, who provide a few salient details from the Report and from certain related memos, summarizing thus:
The policies developed from the report were seen as a way the United States could use human population control to prevent undeveloped nations from gaining substantial political power. Believing that future generations birthed throughout the world posed a danger to wealth accumulation, the policy was backed by wealthy individuals in the US. The policy was also expected to protect American businesses abroad against interference from nations seeking to support their growing populations. Historically, war was required to reduce an adversary’s population; the Kissinger Report proposed a more strategic and well-disguised approach aimed at countries that could pose long-term risk to U.S. economic and military interests.
One question raised is how pandemic policy, which continues to have tragic results, including mass starvation, fits into the pursuit of America's perceived "politico-military interests" in population reduction.
NSDM 314 approved the Report's basic trajectory, making it American policy, whilst reminding its authors of the human rights considerations from which that trajectory so obviously veers away. We should not underestimate the degree of correction offered by the Ford Administration in remarks such as this:
The objective of the United States in this field is to work closely with others rather than to seek to impose our views on others. Our efforts should stress the linkage between reduced population growth and the resultant economic and social gains for the poorest nations. In all these efforts, we should recognize the basic dignity of the individual and his or her right to choose freely family goals and family planning alternatives.
Were that correction actually to be made, however, the trajectory would be a very different one. There is therefore a deep incongruity between the correction and the adoption.
The rights considerations in question had just been reaffirmed at the World Population Conference in Bucharest and duly noted in its Plan of Action. That project, however, was more in keeping with Club of Rome and Club of Budapest priorities than was then admitted. (On those two organizations, which were founded in 1968 and 1973 respectively, see Nordangärd's Rockefeller: Controlling the Game, chapters four and seven. The World Population Plan of Action is surprisingly difficult to locate online, but can be found on Stephen Mumford's site, for example, it being precious to his anti-Catholic heart, or on that of the UNFPA, for which it serves as a charter.) The conference and its Plan rested on the premise, stated at the outset, that "the basis for an effective solution of population problems is, above all, socio-economic transformation." It also rested on the unstated Malthusian premise that the planet could not sustain its growing population and that disaster must surely follow if a ceiling of so many billions were reached. That more fundamental premise had been popularized by Paul's Ehrlich's 1968 book, The Population Bomb, and by Limits to Growth, the 1972 manifesto of the Club of Rome.
The ceiling identified in the Kissinger Report is eight billion, which, as Malone points out, the world had reached in 2019, the year in which the covid "pandemic" mysteriously appeared. Such coincidences occur with disconcerting frequency. It is often pointed out, for example, that Project for a New American Century: Rebuilding America's Defences (September 2000), which called for a military transformation, remarked that the desired process was “likely to be a long one, absent some catastrophic and catalyzing event—like a new Pearl Harbor." We got the new Pearl Harbour exactly a year later, on 9/11, complete with the late sinking of one ship. But let’s leave coincidences aside and stick with things well documented.
The socio-economic transformation deemed necessary in 1974 to prevent global disaster had, perforce, to be an anthropological and an ethical transformation as well. It would be necessary to encourage contraception and abortion, perversely dubbed "reproductive health." It would be advantageous to elevate concern for the environment above other human concerns, using environmental crises, whether real or manufactured, to force change. (This, according to Nordangärd, was something the Rockefellers had mused on for some time. I am reading it into the Plan of Action rather than out of it.) Not by all means, perhaps, but certainly by a variety of means, some not hitherto acceptable, the mindset of people around the globe would have to be changed.
The anthropological optimism with which the Plan of Action begins is not far from that with which Vatican II had concluded a decade earlier in Gaudium et spes. "Of all things in the world," says the Plan, "people are the most precious. Man's knowledge and ability to master himself and his environment will continue to grow. Man's future can be made infinitely bright" (§14). Gaudium had tried to develop the moral principles suited to these convictions, and to a healthy cooperation of church and state and international community so as to capitalize on the new prospects that were opening up. Some of Gaudium’s principles reappear in the Plan at §14, which serves it as a kind of moral anchor. They are stripped, however, of reference to the Church and of attention to the moral dangers to which Gaudium points.
Gaudium itself, in its optimism, was missing something. While it stressed Augustine's note of cooperation between the city of God and the city of man, it muted the far more fundamental note of conflict. Conflict, however, was just beginning to heat up. It would come to a boil by the end of the century, during the papacy of John Paul II. (The present pontificate has been trying to turn down the heat by conceding everything it can, and more; to that topic I will turn, God willing, when I've completed current tasks.) It was bound to, for the Plan's commitment to "human rights of individual freedom, justice, and the survival of national, regional and minority groups," and to basic "respect for human life"—rightly said to be more fundamental than the realization of economic and social objectives—was often compromised in practice. As for its declared respect for the family as the fundamental unit of society, per Article 16 of the UNDHR, with a "basic right to decide freely and responsibly the number and spacing of children," that in some places was simply abandoned.
While the Plan called for legislation and policy that supported the family, the natural family (the adjective is not used here) continued to come under sustained attack. One even notes a curious qualification to §14 in its final subsection:
The objectives of this Plan of Action should be consistent with the purposes and principles of the Charter of the United Nations, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and with the objectives of the Second United Nations development Decade; however, changes in demographic variables during the Decade are largely the result of past demographic events and changes in demographic trends sought during the Decade have social and economic repercussions up to and beyond the end of this century.
A small loophole, perhaps, but very flexible; through it, large inconsistencies can be thrust.
Warnings about such things had come from the fathers of Vatican II, if in the muted tones already mentioned. "There are many," they had written in Gaudium et spes,
who maintain that the increase in world population, or at least the population increase in some countries, must be radically curbed by every means possible and by any kind of intervention on the part of public authority. In view of this contention, the council urges everyone to guard against solutions, whether publicly or privately supported, or at times even imposed, which are contrary to the moral law (§87; cf. §52).
Such warnings fell on deaf ears. For most world leaders, rights and responsibilities were matters of negotiation. The moral law on which they were based was not, from their perspective, solid bedrock. Too often it was an unwelcome hindrance to negotiation. So was the Church, which became the bête noire of those who most diligently pursued the Plan of Action. The Church, to some, was a kind of satan or cosmic adversary. Planned Parenthood, on the other hand, was an angel of light, a fitting partner to the United Nations Population Fund and other U.N. agencies.
The Kissinger Report takes no interest in the moral law. It prioritizes American financial and political interests over all else. To curb the growing demands of the least developed countries, it even raises the prospect of food rationing and of mandatory population control measures, as of stealth fertility-reduction measures under the guise of Public Health. In callousness it leaves little to cold-war competitors, including China, which has deployed such measures from 1979. (Kissinger and Xi are birds of a feather who flock together along that puzzling axis between East and West about which I have been wondering since covid appeared.) Dominion and exploitation and denials of basic human rights are discussed in matter-of-fact fashion with barely a flicker of embarrassment. That "difficult moral issues" are raised by such an approach is conceded, but not that the approach itself is fundamentally immoral; only that it might appear as such and so prove self-defeating, particularly were it to be applied abroad and not also domestically (cf. §33 and §37 in the Executive Summary).
In fairness, the Report still gives lip service to the Plan of Action's appeal to human rights and freedoms. It does not explicitly champion the "alternative view" (laid out at the end of Part Two, Section I) that is said to be held by "a growing number of experts [who] believe that the population situation is already more serious and less amenable to solution through voluntary measures than is generally accepted." On that view,
to prevent even more widespread food shortage and other demographic catastrophes than are generally anticipated, even stronger measures are required and some fundamental, very difficult moral issues need to be addressed. These include, for example, our own consumption patterns, mandatory programs, tight control of our food resources.
The Report does, however, call for the soon consideration of this alternative view by the Executive Branch, Congress, and the United Nations. Meanwhile, it recommends "concentrating on the education and indoctrination of the rising generation of children regarding the desirability of smaller family size" and other such measures. NSDM 314, as far as I can tell, tries to split the difference. Which can't be done, as subsequent history attests.
Where we have been, and where we look to be headed, will receive further remark in the remaining instalments of my treatment of the Public Health revolution, to which I will return shortly.