Δευτέρα, 22 Μαρτίου 2010

The Making of Woodrow Wilson— An American Nero?


 By Michael Collins Piper
 The administration of our 28th president, Woodrow Wilson, saw the enactment of the progressive federal income tax, the establishment of the Federal Reserve System and the involvement of the United States in the first-ever “world” war that set the stage for World War II, the Cold War and the never-ending series of “brush fire” wars that have followed. Here’s the little-known story of Woodrow Wilson and his ideological leanings and the high-level, behind-the-scenes forces that brought Wilson to power, setting the stage for where the United States is today.
Mainstream historians portray Woodrow Wilson as a vanguard of the Progressive Era, a forward-looking realist who ushered America into modern times. Wilson is hailed as a globally oriented statesman who saw the need to abandon the isolationism of the past and open up new vistas for the United States in the world arena. Although admiring historians almost uniformly score Wilson for his failure to bring the United States into the League of Nations, they praise his valiant efforts to do so.
Others—including historians such as Prof. Harry Elmer Barnes, in whose memory The Barnes Review is dedicated—have a less favorable view of Wilson. They recall his duplicity and behind-the-scenes treachery in bringing America into World War I—a war that many Americans viewed as a European quarrel in which the United States had no business intervening, and which, it might be added, laid the foundation for the postwar struggles that led to the outbreak of the second world conflagration.
Populists remember Wilson as the president under whom the modern federal income tax (inspired by The Communist Manifesto) was first instituted, through the controversial 16th Amendment. They also recall that it was under Wilson the privately owned banking monopoly known as the Federal Reserve System came into being. Others point out that Wilson was one of the first American presidents to attempt to institutionalize the theory of “free” trade as national policy. Under Wilson, popular election of U.S. senators began, withdrawing the traditional Constitutional mandate of state legislatures to elect the members of the upper house of Congress—a major blow against the republican form of government.
Wilson, clearly, is a controversial figure. Yet, despite all the debate over Wilson’s policies and his legacy, few people (outside academic circles) are actually aware of the origins of Wilson’s world view. And to understand Wilson’s world view is to understand the forces that drove America’s 28th president into pursuing the policies that he did.
Although Wilson was elected president in 1912 as a Democrat—the party of Thomas Jefferson and Andrew Jackson, two of America’s towering populist statesmen—Wilson was anything but a populist or a nationalist. If anything, as Wilson’s sharply critical biographer, Jennings Wise, wrote in 1938, Wilson was a “disciple of revolution.”
The son of a Presbyterian minister and an English-born mother, Wilson was born in Virginia in 1856, but raised in Georgia. And one might expect young Wilson, growing up in the South, to have absorbed and echoed the sentiments held by most southerners of the post-Civil War era of Reconstruction. In fact, however, according to Wise, Wilson himself began to “look askance upon all but the British democracy.”
Under the tutelage of his father, who had become disillusioned with the Ameri can system as a consequence of the Civil War that left the Confederacy in ashes, Wilson became (like his father) an ardent Anglophile by the time he took up his studies at Princeton.
 According to Wise:
 By the end of his senior year he had become the leading debater in college. So set was his character, and so firmly developed his prejudices, that he refused to take the tariff side in a college debate against free trade, because of his admiration for [British Prime Minister] Gladstone and British free trade policies.
Wilson entered the University of Virginia (founded by Thomas Jefferson) to study law, but he was never quite at home there. “Disliking Jefferson as lacking in force, he was out of harmony from the beginning with the university where Jefferson was held almost a divinity. In Woodrow’s own words,” according to Wise, “he became ‘something of a Federalist,’ looking upon [Alexander] Hamilton [Jefferson’s great adversary] as ‘the greatest American statesman, not excepting Washington.’ ”
Frail health gave Wilson the opportunity to escape Jefferson’s university and Wilson completed his law study at home. But although Wilson went into law practice in Georgia, the academic arena continued to beckon and Wilson entered graduate school at Johns Hopkins University in Baltimore where he studied political economy, philosophy, history and government. While at Hopkins, Wilson completed his graduation thesis which ultimately was published in 1885 under the title Congressional Government.
This volume was Wilson’s effective declaration of war against the American Constitutional republic. Wilson wrote:
The Constitution is not honored by blind worship. The more open-minded we become, as a nation, to its effects, and the prompter we grow in applying, with the unhesitating courage of conviction, all thoroughly tested or well-considered expedients necessary to make self-government among us a straight forward thing of simple method, single, unstinted power and clear responsibility, the nearer will we approach to the sound sense and practical genius of the great and honorable statesmen of 1787.
Although Wilson’s words, one might think, sound a tribute to the Founding Fathers, Wilson’s biographer summarized Wilson’s attitude quite well: “Plainly he chafed under the bonds of the Constitution.” In fact, Congressional Government was a tribute to the British parliamentary system that Wilson had so long admired.
And now, moving in the rarefied circles of what some would later call “the Eastern Establishment,” Wilson—like his associates—was becoming concerned with the growing populist movement that was taking off in America’s hinterlands under the leadership of men such as William Jennings Bryan of Nebraska. According to Wilson’s biographer, the young academic was “convinced, like his intellectual associates,” that Bryan’s philosophy was “the product of a dangerous nationalism” and that “America must be led away from the traditional policy of isolation characteristic of both national parties.” In this mode, according to Wise:
Wilson had now come to believe in the necessity of an Anglo-American alliance. He further averred that both national parties were moribund and urged the formation of a third party. Plainly he had in mind one that would abandon the old American isolationism, which, he felt, had become a threat to the world. Being but an unknown professor, he naturally made no headway with this proposal.
By 1895, Wilson had increasingly come to look upon himself as some form of statesman. But he also realized that his world view was not in “sync” with the thinking of most Americans. “Wilson had long since seen in the danger of Bryanism a great political opportunity for himself,” noted Wise, but, “moreover, he had learned that . . . he must stop talking about the superiority of the British over the American system of government.”
Thus, in an attempt to essentially cover himself, Wilson set about drafting a life of President Washington: “He was now ready to make a popular appeal to the country by glorifying the Patriot Father.” By the time Wilson finished his manuscript he was on the verge of a physical breakdown, but he was well enough to call attention to the fact that “there were thirteen letters in the names of both Geo. Washington and Woodrow Wilson”—through, it might be added, a typical Wilsonian trick of remembering the Father of Our Country by an abbreviated first name.
In the finished manuscript of his book, George Washington, Wilson even went so far as to suggest that Washington had longed, at one time, to return to his home in England—although, of course, Washington was a native-born American. Wilson’s critical biographer, Wise, in one of his more generous comments, de scribes this as an “almost grotesque blunder” on Wilson’s part, but it did certainly provide an insight into Wilson’s enthusiastic Anglophilia. Despite all this, Wilson’s new work on Washington had the remarkable effect of giving Wilson the appearance of being some sort of “conservative” or traditional American nationalist rather than the revolutionary that he truly was.
By 1902 Wilson had become ensconced —his academic reputation growing—as the president of Princeton. And here, at Princeton, his association with the movers and shakers of the Eastern Establishment laid the groundwork for his move toward the Oval Office.
As president of Princeton, Wilson’s personal finances and his university income were supplemented by endowments by Wall Street figures who saw in the dreamy Wilson a pliable tool of the future. Wilson, as a potential presidential candidate, had already been “bought and paid for.” He was also eminently blackmailable.
In 1906 an event took place that was not only to have a major impact on Wilson’s personal life, but on the course of America’s future. Renditions of this story have been told in bits and pieces in a variety of places, but here in The Barnes Review may be the first time that the entire story has ever been told in one place in detail.
In 1906 Wilson suffered a stroke that left him blind in his left eye and suffering periods of numbness in his right arm. At his wife’s urging he went to Bermuda for a vacation in order to rest and recover. There he met Mary Allen Hulbert Peck, the vacationing wife of a Pittsfield, Massachusetts woolens manufacturer. While Mr. Peck was busy tending to the family’s business in New England, Wilson took up with Mrs. Peck.
Although Wilson had earlier told his wife of his own studious efforts to control “the riotous elements in my own blood,” the Princeton scholar enjoyed the adulterous dalliance so tremendously that he arranged to return to Bermuda for two months in January and February of 1908 in order to actively resume the liaison with Mrs. Peck.
Upon returning to his family, Wilson confessed his affair to his wife, who announced her forgiveness. However, Wilson obviously had the affair on his mind when he went to Pittsfield, Massachusetts, the home of the Peck family, where he declared in a speech, “If there is a place where we must adjourn our morals, that place should be in what we call the private life. It is better to be unfaithful to a few people than to a considerable number of people.”
Clearly, Wilson had come to define a new standard of morality in order to justify, at least in his own mind, the betrayal of his wife. Wilson, as we shall see, was coming to perceive his own destiny as something much bigger and more important than his Christian ideals and his dedication to his wife and family.
But the confession to Mrs. Wilson was not the end of things. Mrs. Peck took out a house in New York City and in 1909 and 1910 Wilson resumed his relationship with the woman. According to one Wilson biographer, it was now a full-fledged love affair. Wilson himself had long told Princeton’s graduating seniors that they should realize, essentially, that the Ten Commandments were flexible, that ethical situations were “complicated by a thousand circumstances” and Wilson’s affair was evidently one such circumstance that enabled Wilson to circumvent the laws of God.
However, this dalliance with Mrs. Peck was not Wilson’s only extramarital exploration. It seems as though Wilson was so energized by his adulterous affair with Mrs. Peck that his new outlook on morality had led him into the arms of yet another married woman, the wife of a colleague at Princeton. That lady’s name has been lost to history, although, to this day, the story of Wilson’s escapade with Mrs. Peck has often been confused with this additional indiscretion. But in fact, as we shall see, this second affair proved even more momentous in the course of history.
During this time, though, Wilson was moving step-by-step toward a political career. Prime mover behind Wilson’s political ambitions was George Harvey, the editor of the influential Harper’s Weekly and, according to historian Ferdin and Lundberg, a “henchman” of the J.P. Morgan banking interests (which, it might be added, were essentially American fronts for the European Rothschild financial interests). In 1910 Harvey eased Wilson’s election to the New Jersey governorship and prompt ly began laying the groundwork for Wilson’s bid for the upcoming 1912 Democratic presidential nomination.
Upon his election to the governorship, Wilson ended his physical relationship with Mrs. Peck, but the two did continue to correspond as Wilson began focusing on his future political ambitions. How ever, that affair—and the matter involving the wife of his Princeton colleague—would yet come back to haunt Wilson.
In New Jersey and elsewhere, admirers and detractors alike agreed on one thing: Wilson was quite the orator and an able politician. But Wilson saw in himself much more than that. Wilson, actually, had begun to perceive himself to be some sort of messenger from God.
At one point Wilson described his own desire to be “a minister to the state . . . an instrument of judgment, with motives not secular but religious.” The would-be president and world-shaper said that he felt that he was one leader “who conceives in his mind those reforms which are based upon the statutes of morality; who tries to draw society together by a new motive, which is not the motive of the economist or of the politician but the motive of the profoundly religious man.”
While such views, on their face, could be hailed by many religious people as noble goals, there were more than a few people who detected a strange, even frightening, aura about Wilson. One Democratic functionary said that Wilson gave him, as he put it bluntly, “the creeps.” According to the party hack, “The first time I met him, he said something to me, and I didn’t know whether God or him [sic] was talking.” A few more mystical among Wilson’s critics would rise to point out that in the Bible, even demons are known as “gods.”
Behind the scenes the international money lords were rallying—albeit quietly—in favor of Wilson. Among the names of the high-powered financiers who were funding Wilson were Jacob Schiff of Kuhn, Loeb & Co. and Cleveland Dodge of the National City Bank, along with J. P. Morgan, Jr. One particularly influential figure promoting Wilson’s cause was New York attorney Samuel Untermyer, a leading figure in the increasingly powerful Jewish community in New York and across the country.
In America’s Sixty Families, Ferdin and Lundberg describes the political maneuvering of the period as “the politics of aggrandizement,” and that is precisely what it was. The plutocratic elite were maneuvering to put Woodrow Wilson in the White House.
In his monumental study, The Strangest Friendship in History, George Sylvester Viereck examined the rather bizarre personal and professional relationship of President Woodrow Wilson and his closest advisor and alter-ego, “Col.” Edward Mandel House. The Wilson-House relationship impacted substantially upon Wilson’s internationalist policies, with House acting in many ways as “co-president,” although some would even go so far as to say he was Wilson’s “controller.”
A longtime behind-the-scenes political operative in Texas, the enigmatic and shadowy House was the son of an English immigrant who had acquired a summer home in Massachusetts and ingratiated himself with the eastern plutocratic elite. As the history of House and his associations demonstrates, it is thus no wonder that later critics of Wilson (and House) commonly referred to House as “an agent” of the international financial interests of the Rothschild banking empire.
Among those in House’s inner circle was one Theodore Marburg whom Wilson biographer Jennings Wise de scribes as “one of the world’s leading economists and internationalists,” whose views reflected, among others, the influence of the Bank of England and other one-world forces, including the Rhodes Scholars at Oxford. The Rhodes Scholars were following through with the stated desire of the late Cecil Rhodes, yet another satellite of the Rothschild empire, who dreamed of “the furtherance of the British empire, for the bringing of the whole uncivilized world under British rule, for the recovery of the United States, for making the Anglo-Saxon race but one empire.”
Marburg worked closely with American industrialist Andrew Carnegie —who shared his internationalist views—in attempting to coordinate efforts by the international banking community to shape the course of global affairs for the ultimate purpose of what has been termed “the enforcement of universal peace”—that is, a “one-world” government. The English branch of this internationalist bloc was the Fabian Society—remembered today as the driving force behind socialism in England. In the United States, Marburg set up the American Association for International Conciliation. Among its members included a diverse array of religious figures, academics and others.
However, the funds for these globalist ventures were provided by American syndicates of the Rothschild financial empire including the banking houses of Paul Warburg and Otto Kahn. Young “Jewish statesman” and financier Bernard Baruch could also be found be hind the scenes.
While Marburg, in the years approaching the 1912 presidential election, was favorably inclined toward the re-election of President William Howard Taft, House saw in Woodrow Wilson an ideal candidate through which to combat the populist and nationalist tendencies in the Democratic Party represented by the party’s three-time presidential candidate William Jennings Bryan. House was watching Wilson closely and made contact with him even as Wilson’s advisors were urging him to “look up Col. House. He’s been doing a lot of good work for you.”
As history records, House very clearly became a key player in the drive to put Woodrow Wilson in the White House. He was also a key player in shaping Woodrow Wilson’s world view.
When the two figures met, House brought to Wilson’s attention an unusual novel that he had written. It was entitled Philip Dru—Administrator, a fantasy about a young American, Philip Dru, and how he came to be leader of the United States and about the policies he carried out. According to Jennings Wise, House and Wilson discussed the book and the philosophy put forth therein at length.
In fact, as students of history know, Philip Dru—Administrator was a blueprint for a socialist dictatorship, and many of the programs put forth in House’s peculiar volume ultimately came to be a part of the Wilson program when Wilson achieved the presidency.
But while Wilson’s move toward the White House was being pushed forward, his opponents leaked word of Wilson’s adultery, and in April of 1912 Wilson’s briefcase was actually stolen from a Chicago hotel room by someone who was apparently attempting to gain incriminating evidence of Wilson’s personal indiscretions. It is known that Wilson contacted Mrs. Peck and told her that “malevolent foes” were trying to destroy him. He also sent her money, presumably to buy her silence. In any event, Mrs. Peck divorced her husband several months later.
However, despite the backing that Wilson was receiving, the biggest obstacle in Wilson’s path to the White House was Wilson’s longtimebête noir, populist William Jennings Bryan, who was making yet a fourth bid for the Democratic presidential nomination (having lost the presidency in 1896, 1900 and 1908 as the Democratic candidate). However, at the Democratic Convention, Bryan’s campaign began faltering, and his populist supporters began moving into the camp of Missouri populist Bennett “Champ” Clark.
Wilson’s big money backers saw that action was necessary to prevent the stampede toward Clark by Bryan’s followers and “leaked” word that Wall Street was quietly supporting Clark. This maneuver tricked Bryan into lashing out against Clark, crippling Clark’s candidacy. This left the Democratic convention wide open, and after several ballots, Wilson’s nomination was assured.
For the November election, Wilson was not only facing incumbent Republican President William Howard Taft, but also Taft’s former friend and sponsor, President Theodore Roosevelt. Having unsuccessfully challenged Taft for renomination, Roosevelt was now running as an independent candidate on the ticket of a party of his own creation, the Progressive Party, popularly known as the “Bull Moose” movement.
In fact, the same Wall Street and Rothschild money interests promoting Wilson were raising funds and propping up Roosevelt’s third party candidacy. These forces had their own reasons for supporting the effort to divide the Re publican vote between Taft and Roosevelt and thereby guarantee Taft’s defeat and Wilson’s election to the presidency.
The circumstances rose directly from the rise of the communist Bolshevik movement in Russia that the government of Czar Nicholas II was working to suppress. Although it was common knowledge at the time, and frankly acknowledged in diplomatic communiqués and frequently mentioned in the press, it is not well known today that the Bolshevik movement was overwhelmingly Jewish in origin. Thus, the Bolsheviks had a vested interest in claiming that the czar’s attempts to suppress Bolshevism were acts of “anti-Semitism” when, quite the contrary, the evidence demonstrates that the Jews were flourishing freely in Russia. In fact, to this day there are those who say that it was precisely because Nicholas failed to suppress the Jewish population that his regime fell and the Bolshevik takeover of Russia took place.
In any case, American Jewish leaders, including the aforementioned international banker Jacob Schiff (among Wilson’s sponsors) approached President Taft and demanded that the United States immediately break its long-standing and historic diplomatic and commercial ties with czarist Russia. They also demanded that Taft veto a literacy test on immigrants proposed in Congress that, if incorporated into American immigration law, would have prevented many millions of Jewish immigrants from Russia from coming into the United States.
Thus, Taft was surprised, to say the least, when, on February 15, 1911, Schiff and his colleagues came to the White House and presented him with a prepared statement on these issues that they wanted Taft to release to the press and to Congress. The “statement” drafted in Taft’s name did not reflect the president’s views in any way, and the Ameri can president told the Jewish leaders, frankly, that the interests of the American nation as a whole would not be served, either domestically or internationally, by taking the actions the Jewish leaders demanded.
The White House meeting ended on a bitter note with Schiff refusing to shake the president’s hand and then later declaring, “This means war.” And war it was. The Jewish elite intensified their efforts against Taft and began maneuvering for his defeat. Woodrow Wilson was one of the pawns in the game. Although, in 1912, B’nai B’rith, a leading Jewish Masonic organization, gave a medal to Taft, calling him “the man who had contributed most during the year to the welfare of the Jewish cause,” the actions of the Jewish leadership during the previous year (and in the months that followed) indicated clearly that, public relations notwithstanding, Taft was “out” as far as they were concerned.
Thus, when Theodore Roosevelt opted to launch a third party candidacy on the Bull Moose ticket, Wilson’s backers on Wall Street and in the Jewish elite saw the opportunity to split the opposition GOP vote between Roosevelt and Taft and throw the election to Wilson.
That is precisely what happened. Wilson won with 41.8 percent of the popular vote and 435 electoral votes. Roosevelt actually outran Taft, came in second with 27.4 percent of the vote and carried 88 electoral votes. The beleaguered Taft trailed in third place with 23.18 percent of the popular vote and only eight electoral votes. Taft had paid the price for independence and had been removed from the presidency.
For his own part, upon his election to the presidency, Wilson made great overtures to assure his influential backers, particularly the Jewish community, that he would be compliant with their wishes, so much so that one critic, industrialist Henry Ford, later published the comment in his newspaper, The Dear born Independent, that “The Jews made much of Woodrow Wilson, far too much for his own good. They formed a solid ring around him.” One of those Jewish leaders in Wilson’s inner circle was New York attorney Samuel Untermyer.
It was Untermyer who brought Wilson some most unpleasant news shortly after Wilson was sworn in as president. Untermyer came to the White House and advised the president that although he (like others in the American Jewish community) had been a contributor to Wilson’s campaign he (Untermyer) had been retained in his capacity as an attorney to bring a breach of promise action against Wilson. Untermyer’s client was the lady from Princeton with whom Wil son had conducted the adulterous affair.
The lady had since remarried and taken up residence in Washington, D.C. where her step-son, of whom she was fond, was in trouble to the tune of some $40,000 involving some financial indiscretions relating to his work for a bank in the nation’s capital. The lady, through Untermyer, gently suggested that perhaps the new president might have easy and immediate access to such large funds and that if her ex-paramour could come up with the funds that she would not be inclined to release a number of candid letters that Wilson had written to the lady.
President Wilson expressed his gratitude to Untermyer that the lady had approached one of his Democratic Party allies in the Jewish community rather than an attorney with Republican Party connections—a complication that could have been embarrassing indeed. How ever, Wilson made it clear to Untermyer that he did not have the $40,000 the lady’s son required.
Untermyer, however, offered a solution: Untermyer not only came up with the $40,000, but he also made certain that not only no breach of promise lawsuit would ever be brought, and also obtained control of the incriminating letters and kept them for himself, assuring Wilson that no one else would ever see them.
Untermyer did ask one thing in return for his consideration: that when a vacancy occurred on the Supreme Court that Woodrow Wilson might ask Untermyer for his recommendation as to whom Wilson might appoint. Such a vacancy soon did occur with the convenient death of one of the sitting justices, and Untermyer put forth the name of Louis Dembitz Brandeis, who did indeed rise to the Supreme Court, the first person of the Jewish faith to assume a post on the high court.
Thus, Woodrow Wilson’s personal in discretion of some years before had set the stage for much bigger developments after Wilson achieved the presidency.
In fact, according to an admiring biographer, Professor Bruce Allen Murphy of Penn State University, writing in The Brandeis/Frankfurter Connection: The Secret Political Activities of Two Supreme Court Justices (the other being Brandeis’s protégé, Felix Frankfurter): “Guided by Brandeis . . . the American Zionists acquired substantial political influence in a short period of time.”

Through what Murphy describes as “invisible wires into many government bureaus,” Brandeis became a key power behind the throne in the Wilson administration. And in a few short years, Brandeis was also a key player, as England’s closest high-level ally, in the effort to push America into the evolving war in Europe. As Samuel Landman, the former secretary of the World Zionist Organization disclosed:
The only way . . . to induce the American president to come into the war (was) to secure the cooperation of Zionist Jews by promising them Palestine, and thus enlist and mobilize the hitherto unsuspectedly powerful forces of Zionist Jews in America and elsewhere in favor of the Allies on a quid pro quo contract basis.
The direct result of this behind-the-scenes deal was the Balfour Declaration issued by the British on November 2, 1917, establishing the legal basis upon which the state of Israel was ultimately established. In fact, Brandeis himself had final approval of the declaration even before Britain’s foreign minister, Arthur Balfour (after whom the declaration is named) had seen it himself.*
The irony of Wilson’s manipulation by Untermyer (and ultimately by Brandeis) is that yet another of Wilson’s adulterous adventures came back to haunt him: the matter of Mrs. Peck. This happened in May of 1915.
By this time, the first Mrs. Wilson had died and the president was already involved in a blossoming relationship with a vivacious Washington widow, Edith Bolling Galt, to whom he was engaged. Mrs. Peck (three years divorced from Mr. Peck) showed up at the White House for what one writer has referred to as “frank discussions” with the president, presumably involving her financial needs, not to mention the previous relationship that she had had with the president during his days at Princeton.
Shortly thereafter Wilson came up with $15,000 with which to buy several mortgages that Mrs. Peck held on property in New York, but this apparently was not enough to silence her. The president’s son-in law, Treasury Secretary William McAdoo, advised Wilson that he had received an anonymous letter saying that Mrs. Peck had been showing off letters she had received from Wilson and essentially bragging that the $15,000 was a bribe for her silence.
By whatever means, Mrs. Peck was convinced to remain silent thereafter and her letters never reached the public. Perhaps Samuel Untermyer had worked his legal legerdemain once again and gained favors from the president similar to those involving the appointment of Louis Brandeis to the Supreme Court.
Yet, while the story of Wilson’s affair with Mrs. Peck has become part of the Wilson legend, the other more explosive story of his affair with the lady from Princeton and its very clear influence on Wilson’s presidential decision-making, has been carefully excised from the “official” story of Woodrow Wilson.
The only reason the story ever received any airing (in independent publications) was because an American Jewish businessman, Benjamin Freed man, an early associate of Wilson, later told the story. [For more on Freedman, who converted to Catholicism and be came an ardent critic of Zionist power in America, see the July/August 1999 issue of The Barnes Review. —Ed.]
Today, as we noted earlier, there are many who confuse the story of Mrs. Peck with the story of the lady from Princeton, but now, for the first time ever, the truth about both affairs has been delineated by TBR in an effort to set the historical record straight.
So it was that through the process of blackmail and double-dealing and political intrigue at the highest levels, Wood row Wilson was ensconced in the White House. The rest, as they say, is history. The massacre of World War I set the stage for Wilson’s attempt to force Amer ica into the League of Nations, a globalist scheme to police the world, and set in place a veritable global government.
Woodrow Wilson’s personal “god complex” became more evident during this time. In fact, at one point, Wilson himself told prominent Jewish leader, attorney Felix Frankfurter, a Brandeis protégé, that he (Wilson) was “the personal instrument of God” at the postwar Versailles conference where Wilson, in league with his Zionist advisors, sought to reshape the world.
British Prime Minister David Lloyd George believed Wilson “regarded himself as a missionary whose function was to rescue the poor European heathen from their age-long worship of false and fiery gods.”
At one point Wilson announced to those at Versailles that “Jesus Christ so far [has] not succeeded in inducing the world to follow His teachings because He taught the ideal without devising any practical scheme to carry out his aims.”
After Wilson’s pronouncement, according to Lloyd George, French Premier Georges Clemenceau—already quite familiar with Wilson’s flights of fancy—“opened his dark eyes to their widest dimension and swept them around the assembly to see how the Christians gathered around the table enjoyed this exposure of the futility of their Master.”
Wilson’s messianic visions notwithstanding, Versailles and its aftermath were a shambles for the course of world history. Belgian general and historian Leon Degrelle frankly describes Germany’s Adolf Hitler as having been “born at Versailles.” According to American populist economist and historian Lawrence Dennis, writing in 1940 in The Dynamics of War and Revolution:
The Wilsonian revolution of international idealism was one of destruction, not creation . . . The Wilsonian revolution liquidated such workable social integrations as the Austro-Hungarian empire and the German empire, the first of which was decrepit when dissolved by the international idealists.
But the internationalists could destroy better than they could build. They replaced these nineteenth century political integrations . . . with no workable 20th century substitute . . . Since the war, all that democracy has created of historic importance has been a sterile and suicidal internationalism . . .
Nationalist opposition in a war-weary America scuttled Wilson’s plans for U.S. entry into the League of Nations and what was the forerunner of what is today referred to as “the New World Order,” and Wilson, beaten down, collapsed in exhaustion, crippled by a stroke. A few have even alleged that Wilson may have also been suffering from venereal disease (perhaps as a result of his indiscretions) which is known to cause brain damage and insanity.
In any case, bedridden and bitter, Wilson spent the last years of his second term a virtual recluse in the White House although (in another of his flights of fancy) the physically and emotionally ravaged Wilson, at one point, actually instructed his subordinates to attempt to gain him a third nomination for the presidency in 1920. Nothing ever came of that mad dream.
After leaving the White House, Wilson settled into retirement in the nation’s capital, seldom venturing out, but occasionally receiving visitors who would hear Wilson muttering darkly and angrily against his critics who had frustrated his grand design for a new world order. Wilson placed himself again on the level of God, saying, “I have seen fools resist Providence before, and I have seen their destruction. You can’t fight God.”
Wilson died—in his own last words—“a broken machine,” in 1925. His legacy: world war and destruction, burdensome taxation, incredible deficits, debt money and interest slavery, the decline in national sovereignty and ever-growing federal intrusion upon liberty.
Had Americans only studied Wilson’s world view and been made aware of the secret forces behind the scenes that were sponsoring Wilson’s drive for the presidency, the United States—and the people of the world—could have been spared so much tragedy and suffering.
* For the complete story of the Balfour Declaration, see the aforementioned Samuel Landman’s first-hand account, “Great Britain, the Jews and Palestine” and “Origins of the Balfour Declaration” in the Jan./Feb. issue of The Barnes Review, as well as the special report, Power Behind Glo balism Exposed: The Balfour Declar ation of 1917, by Dr. Robert John, available through TBR at 10 copies for $3.50.

BIBLIOGRAPHY:
Lundberg, Ferdinand, America’s Sixty Families (New York: Vanguard Press, 1937).
Murphy, Bruce Allen. The Brandeis/ Frankfurter Connection.
Viereck, George Sylvester, The Strangest Friendship in History (New York: Liveright, Inc., 1932).
Wise, Jennings, Woodrow Wilson: Disciple of Revolution (New York: Paisley Press, 1938).
http://www.barnesreview.org

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