The Transnationalist outlook and line of reasoning here are crystal clear to Pope John Paul. If the Transnationalists are fully successful in their programs and policies, everyone will live and work in institutions that will be global in their organization and in their very essence. People will be doing “good” banking, or “good” engineering, or “good” manufacturing, if they are performing their tasks in institutions where all distinctions have collapsed between what is international and what is particular to any individual nation or culture or religion.
“Good” will no longer be burdened with a moral or religious coloring.
“Good” will simply be synonymous with “global.” Else, what’s an education for?
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As John Paul sees the future of this globalist agenda, educational changes will not be the half of it. The Transnationalist education formula is in essence one step in a drive to build a worldwide human infrastructure upon which an effectively working global economy can base itself with some security.
The emphasis is on homogeneity of minds, on the creation and nourishing of a truly global mentality. If the world’s economy is going to be global in the Transnationalist sense, then those engaged in it cannot afford any provincialism in culture and outlook.
We must all become little Transnationalists. For the sake of the financial and trading interests upon which our world relies even now, a new mentality must be forged in legal systems, monetary systems, fiscal systems, defense systems, sociocultural values and demographic rules and regulations. Political ideologies and systems will all have to be modified by the natural, evolutionary processes that are already under way.
Further, while Pope John Paul is as aware as any man of the differences in preferred methods that are debated endlessly by these two globalist groups, the fact remains that at the most influential levels, cooperation between Internationalists and Transnationalists far outweighs any differences between them.
Whether they prefer to move along the path of greater and greater government bureaucracy, or greater and greater control by global management systems, both groups move in lockstep when it comes to the re-creation of our practical world. And should there be any doubts concerning either their will or their power to change that world through their sweeping policies, recent events put those doubts to rest.
Just one case history, in fact, is enough to illustrate just how closely the outlook and the effects of these two globalist groups dovetail with each other. And it is more than enough to demonstrate, as well, the power of these groups to shape our world and to dictate the fabric of our lives as profoundly as any revolution.
The name of John J. McCloy is not a household word. Nine out of ten of us would probably shake our heads if we were asked what this man had done in life. But as Bill Moyers discovered on his journey with David Rockefeller, anonymity is the welcome companion of men who operate at the heights of power where John McCloy spent most of his life.
In any case, it’s not McCloy’s fame or the lack of it, but his accomplishments that illustrate John Paul’s point about the global reach and the near-geopolitical abilities of these globalists in their ambitions, their goals and their policies. For no one was a greater champion than McCloy of the fervent faith that the nations can be unerringly guided to a new world order—provided that talented and visionary globalists themselves design, install and maintain a controlled balance among the nations that deal in raw power.
The career of John J. McCloy spanned a period of sixty-four years, from 1925 until his recent death, on March 11, 1989. After serving in World War I as a staff officer to General Guy Preston, John McCloy graduated from Harvard Law School, and in 1925 joined the firm then known as Cravath, Henderson and Gernsdorf (CHG).
CHG handled much of the legal work that made it possible for American banks to become involved in foreign initiatives to rebuild Europe after the Great War. That was interesting, no doubt. But McCloy probably chose his entry point with a still keener eye. Paul Cravath was one of the founders of the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR). And CFR was the natural meeting place for such men as Cravath, Robert Lovett, Averell Harriman, Charles “Chip” Bohlen, George F. Kennan and Dean Acheson.
With good reason, those six men in particular were celebrated as recently as 1986 by authors Walter Isaacson and Evan Thomas in their book, The Wise Men: Six Friends and the World They Made. But what Isaacson and Thomas saw after the fact, John McCloy foresaw, at least in terms of general possibilities, in 1925. In McCloy’s words, Cravath, Henderson and Gernsdorf “was where I would have a chance to run with the swift.”
Run he did. Together with Lovett and Harriman, McCloy helped to paper together $77 million worth of bond issues for the Union Pacific Railroad. Also involved in that effort was Frenchman Jean Monnet, then an international financier with Blair & Company of New York and Paris, and later one of the architects and prime movers of what we now know as the European Economic Community.
McCloy become Monnet’s lawyer. Together they worked at issues of securities for European municipalities; and they merged Blair & Company into Transamerica Corporation.
By 1935, within ten years of joining CHG, McCloy was already a megacorporate Transnationalist. In that year, he became fused as well with the Internationalists. In fact, he moved to heaven on earth from the Internationalist point of view—Washington, D.C. In the words of Isaacson and Thomas, he entered the tradition of “a group of hard-nosed Internationalists … [who] came from Wall Street and State Street, and thus understood well the importance of a prosperous and open global economy, and America’s role in such a world.”
One high-ranking member of that hard-nosed group was Henry Lewis Stimson. Like Cravath, Stimson was one of the founders of CFR. And like McCloy, he was a graduate of Harvard Law School who found his own path to rarefied power in a law firm—the firm of the legendary Elihu Root, where Stimson became a partner in 1897.
In 1941, with World War II already well under way, Henry Stimson became Franklin D. Roosevelt’s secretary of war. In the same year, John McCloy became Stimson’s assistant secretary of war; with Robert Lovett as his counterpart in the same department.
It was clear that there was more to John McCloy than hard-nosed politics and finance. There was as well the abiding mystique of the true globalist, a certain fire that is the globalist’s equivalent of religious fervor. That McCloy burned with this fervor seems undeniable. On the day he received the Distinguished Service Medal from his boss, Secretary Stimson, McCloy wrote in his diary that he looked up at “the steady gaze of Elihu Root” in the portrait hanging on the wall behind Stimson. “I felt a direct current running from Root through Stimson to me … they were the giants.” McCloy’s World War II service provided him with the arena he needed to become a giant in the same tradition, to become one of the “Wise Men” who would be revered in his turn by other aspiring globalists.
John McCloy was an essential figure in such major wartime decisions as the Lend-Lease program, which funneled $15 billion into Joseph Stalin’s Soviet Union, the internment of Japanese Americans in detention camps, the dropping of A-bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, a decision symptomatic of the Wise Men’s policy of balance. His energy was boundless. And as Stimson himself acknowledged, McCloy’s authority was the same as his own. Anybody who wanted to make progress in Washington had to “have a word” with McCloy.
Conversely, he was prominent in the firing of General George S. Patton, who threatened to upset the balance of power McCloy’s Washington had determined should reign over postwar Europe. And in the later Korean “police action,” he was a major influence in President Harry Truman’s firing of General Douglas MacArthur, who threatened a similar upset in the Pacific.
After a busy and powerful stint as a partner in the firm of Milbank, Tweed, Hope, Hadley and Miller—the legal arm of the Rockefeller family and its Chase Manhattan Bank—and as a board member of the Union Pacific Railroad, the Empire Trust Company and the Rockefeller Foundation, Mc
Cloy was the natural choice to succeed Eugene Meyer as president of the World Bank in 1946.
He was already a figure of enormous experience and power in global affairs, and a master of the ways of government Internationalist and corporate Transnationalist alike, yet McCloy’s greatest and most far-reaching contributions still lay ahead of him.
In 1948, President Truman named McCloy to the postwar position of high commissioner for West Germany. As McCloy himself saw it, he now had “the power of a dictator as High Commissioner of the Allied Forces in West Germany.” To trace the influence of John McCloy from this point on is to trace some of the most significant events in world history after World War II.
Within the balance-of-power tradition to which he was totally committed, the reconstruction of postwar Germany carried out by John McCloy became arguably the single most important policy for the Western world. Today, in fact, McCloy’s West Germany is the key element in the fate of the European Community to be welded together in 1992. It is the key element in the near-future fate of NATO. And it is the key element as well in the fate of Gorbachevism.
As an Internationalist of the first order, McCloy was a key architect of the Marshall Plan. He drafted the Ausable Club proposals outlining the terms for Soviet-American arms control. He was one of the main movers behind the creation of OPEC. He negotiated the first agreements that resolved the Cuban missile crisis—yet another example of his embodiment of the Wise Men’s policy concerning balance of power.
As a Transnationalist with few peers, meanwhile, McCloy was general counsel to the fabled “Seven Sister” oil companies—a Transnationalist role that dovetailed perfectly with his Internationalist role in the creation of OPEC. He originated many of the “New World Order” projects as chairman of the Ford Foundation. He was an active participant in Jean Monnet’s first organization of the European Economic Community (EEC)—he called it “the United States of Europe.” He presided over the merger of Chase National Bank with another Rockefeller bank, to form the third-largest bank in the world of that day.
All in all, among the Internationalist statesmen and Transnationalist businessmen of the post-World War II era, it would be hard to find one other individual who wielded such single-handed power and influence as McCloy. Those he promoted went far—Robert McNamara, for example, and Henry Kissinger, Dean Rusk, Eugene Black and George D. Woods, to name but a few. He was active and influential on the Warren Commission, which inquired into the assassination of President John Kennedy. He had a personal function in the selection of President Richard Nixon’s cabinet.
So impressive—indeed, in the eyes of many of his colleagues, so superhuman—were McCloy’s achievements, that he inspired in others that same quasi-religious fervor he himself experienced in Henry Stimson’s Washington office as he looked up at “the steady gaze of Elihu Root.”
At the black-tie tribute to McCloy on the occasion of his ninetieth birthday, Henry Kissinger called him “the First Citizen of the Council of Foreign Relations,” and much more besides. Delving into that near-religious mystique that fires the globalist vision and fervor, Kissinger continued, “I believe John McCloy heard the footsteps of God as he went through history, and those of us who were not humble enough or who were not sharp enough had the privilege of knowing that, if we followed his footsteps, we were in the path of doing God’s work.”
With the stentorian achievements of this one Wise Man and his associates as an example of the globalist vision and power, it is difficult to argue against Pope John Paul’s position that, for all their differences, Internationalists and Transnationalists pursue the same essential goals. And it is difficult to argue that the Pope need not assess these globalists as serious contenders with himself and Mikhail Gorbachev in the arena of the millennium endgame.
Indeed, most influential observers and commentators presently regard these globalist groups as having the predominant influence in shaping our near-future world. And with good reason. For already they have established development as the motor principle of our lives as individuals and as citizens of nations upon a shrinking globe.
Moreover, they have successfully pegged development itself to their tripod creation of international trade, finance and physical security; and they have enshrined the same idea of balance promoted by McCloy as the single key to our global well-being. Anything that will upset the tripod balance of trade, finance and physical security is understood as a threat to the world as a whole, and to each nation as a part of that whole. Everyone must cooperate, or everyone will suffer.
Just how pervasive this globalist outlook has become can be seen in the fact that virtually all nations are defined, and define themselves, in terms of how they rank on the world scale of material development. All agree that nations such as Ethiopia and Madagascar, for example, are “underdeveloped.” That nations such as India, Pakistan and the Philippines are “developing.” That such nations as Saudi Arabia, Chile and Norway are “developed.” No one doubts that the most important feature of the United States, Japan, the United Kingdom and West Germany is that they are “advanced” nations. And no one doubts, either, that in each case, such labels have to do exclusively with the accumulation of wealth and with the greater or lesser availability of goods and services. For that is the basic and accepted globalist definition of development itself.
According as nations are successfully plugged into the tripod system, they progress upward on the evolutionary development tree. And in this globalist outlook, it goes without saying that, if the promotion and evening out of such evolution requires a progressive homogenization of values and behavior that some find painful, it is a small price to pay in the end for the material benefits we will all enjoy in the uniformly developed global village.
Pope John Paul does not categorically condemn the aims sought by such globalists. He readily admits that some of those aims can aid in the alleviation of conditions that make life today “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short,” in the words of Thomas Hobbes, for some two billion human beings. John Paul means conditions such as poverty, disease, malnutrition, environmental pollution, inadequate wages and living conditions. In those areas and others like them, John Paul seems to see the globalist aims of these groups as beneficial to mankind as a whole.
At the same time, however, he also knows that the Transnationalist outlook, which seeks to admit developing countries rapidly as full partners in the task of managing the global economy, is not motivated primarily by humanitarian or moral impulses. Rather, it is a matter of strategic necessity, if tripod balance is to be achieved and maintained. For if almost four out of every five human beings continue to be excluded from the “good life,” the global tripod economy itself will not escape the mortal blows of regional conflict and organized state terrorism.
Moreover, because the “good life” is the alpha and omega of the global thrust, Pope John Paul weighs in heavily and frequently with the criticism that “the mere accumulation of goods and services, even for the benefit of the majority, is not enough for the realization of human happiness.”
Indeed, the Pope summarizes one main error of the Transnationalists in particular as “superdevelopment,” which “consists of every kind of material goods for the benefit of certain social groups” and which “easily makes people slaves of ‘possessions’ and of immediate gratification, with no other horizon than the continual multiplication and continual replacement of things already owned with others still better.”
John Paul gives the Internationalists their due, as well, in their efforts to forge closer internation and interbloc alliances. “We are one family,” the Pontiff often remarks. And it would be all to the good if a closer and more intimate union of all nations in economic and financial collaboration were effective in eliminating the barriers of selfish, introverted nationalism.
However, if such collaboration necessarily implies artificial birth control and family planning techniques, together with ever-new genetic and eugenic “experiments,” then the Pope�
��s approval of the globalist ethos stops in its tracks. And he does know in dollars what Transnationalists are ready to pour into such efforts.
Papal criticisms notwithstanding, more and more the Transnationalist conviction takes hold among us that any point of view must be considered a disruptive “bias” if it upsets the material balance upon which world economic stability rests. And that conviction extends not only into general education and what we now call “corporate culture” but at least as deeply into the political, religious and moral areas of our lives where, admittedly, “bias” is very likely to crop up.
Increasingly, as this materialist view becomes more pervasive, the most vital elements in the personal, economic and social life of every individual in every nation are being affected, for good or for ill, by decisions flowing from the mentality and aims of global managers.
The evidence is clear that, as religious and moral “bias” is erased from our lives, the individual cannot but be affected by a massive onflow of modernity. What each of us values in life—what is “good” and “bad”; the very focus of meaning in life—must shift away from its traditional locus. It must shift away from everything that transcends the human scene, away from everything that was once identified with the God of religion, away from the laws of God and the demands of such religion. It must shift away from the individual’s regard for family, and from the entire ethical consensus of whole peoples that was colored until now by religion.
John Paul sees some of the early effects to be expected from this profound dislocation, in what are now referred to—in bland and unbiased fashion—as the new “life-styles” that have already penetrated so deeply into the personal and social lives of many nations.
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