Kerry Bolton
Revolution from Above
London: Arktos Media, 2011

The popular imagination conceives Marxism and capitalism as opposing forces, imagining that—obviously—Marxists want the capitalists’ money and capitalists do not want Marxists to take it from them.

Kerry Bolton’s Revolution from Above disproves this notion.

As it turns out, and as many readers probably already know, the Marxist revolutions in the East succeeded in many places thanks to the ample funds supplied to them—consciously and voluntarily—by finance-capitalists in the West.

With access to all the money they could wish for and more, the finance-capitalists in Bolton’s narrative were, and are, primarily motivated by a desire for power, and their ultimate aim was not even more money per se, but the enduring ability to shape the world to their convenience, which translates into a collectivised planet of producers and consumers.

Marxism was useful in as much as it was a materialistic ideology that destroyed traditional structures and values and turned citizens into secular, deracinated wage slaves, irrespective of race, gender, age, creed, disability, or sexual orientation.

Capitalism was useful in as much as it made money the measure of all things and created a consumer culture that ultimately turned citizens into debt slaves, also irrespective of race, gender, and so on.

In this manner, Marxism and capitalism were seen as complementary, as well as a method of pacifying the citizenry: too busy labouring in the factory or in the cubicle, and too befuddled by daydreams of shopping and entertainment during their free time, the citizens of this global order, fearful of losing their jobs and not being able to buy things or satisfy their creditors, are left with little inclination to, or energy for, rebellion.

Bolton explains how the finance-capitalist oligarchy is the entity that truly runs our affairs, rather than the national governments. The latter are either financially dependent, or in partnership, with the financiers and the central bankers.

To illustrate this dependency he documents the United States’ government relationship with the Bolsheviks in Russia during the revolution, not to mention the similarity in their goals despite superficial appearances to the contrary and despite alarm or opposition from further down the hierarchy. Bolton shows how genuinely anti-communist efforts were frustrated during the Cold War. And he shows that the close relationship with communist regimes ended when Stalin decided to pursue his own agenda.

The book then goes on to describe the various mechanisms of plutocratic domination. Bolton documents the involvement of a network of prominent, immensely rich, tax-exempt, so-called ‘philanthropic’ organisations in funding subversive movements and think tanks. Marxism has already been mentioned, but it seems these foundations were also interested in promoting feminism and the student revolts of 1968.

Feminism was sold to women as a movement of emancipation. Bolton argues, and documents, that its funders’ real aim was to end women’s independence (from the bankers) and prevent the unregulated education of children: by turning women into wage-slaves they would become dependent on an entity controlled by the plutocrats, double the tax-base, double the size of the market, and create the need for children’s education to be controlled by the government—an entity that is, in turn, controlled by the plutocrats. Betty Friedan, who founded the second wave of feminism with her book The Feminine Mystique, and Gloria Steinem are named as having received avalanches of funding from ‘philanthropic’ foundations.

With regards to the university student revolts of 1968, the book highlights the irony of how, without the activists knowing it, they were backed by the same establishment they thought to be opposing. These students were but ‘useful idiots’ in a covert strategy of subversion and social engineering.

The subversion does not end there, for the plutocracy has global reach and is as actively engaged in global planning today as it ever was. Revolution from Above inevitably deals with George Soros’ involvement in the overthrow of governments or regimes not to his liking. According to Bolton’s account, the reader can take it for granted that any of the velvet or ‘colour revolutions’ we have seen in recent years have been funded in some way or another by George Soros through his extended network of instruments. ‘Regime-changes’ in Yugoslavia, Georgia, Ukraine (orange revolution), Kyrgyszstan (pink revolution), Tunisia (jasmine revolution), Egypt (white revolution), Lybia (red, green, black revolution), and Iran (green revolution) were not the result of spontaneous uprisings. Anti-government parties, think tanks, media, campaigns, demonstrations, and even training courses for political agitation—all and in all cases received vast funding from finance-capitalism overseas, not from local collections of petty sums.

In other words, many a modern revolution has not come from below, but from above. And in the context of governments being in a dependent relationship to the stratospherical plutocracy, this aggregates into a pincer strategy, with pressure coming secretly from above and from below, with the pressure from below—however spontaneous and ‘messy’ it may seem when it hits the headlines—being the result of years of careful planning, financing, and preparation by overseas elites.

The reader must ask himself how it is that whenever we see one of these ‘colour revolutions’ somehow someone is able, almost overnight, to overwhelm the streets with a tsunami of well designed, professionally printed, and colour-coordinated merchandise: flags, scarves, placards, posters, leaflets, balloons, headbands, t-shirts, face-paint, you name it, it all seems very slick, aesthetically consistent, and fashion-conscious for uprisings that are supposedly spontaneous demonstrations of popular rage.

Overall Bolton crams in an enormous mass of information within 250 pages. The lists of names and figures—and some of the sums involved are truly staggering—are endless, and the persistent torrent of footnotes considerably expand on parts of the main narrative. The plutocrats’ web of influence and deceit is immensely complicated, not only as a structure but also as a process, since it thrives in double meaning, double think, and ambiguity. Those interested in a detailed knowledge of the machinations behind current and recent events, or even twentieth-century political history, would do well to read this book more than once—at least if they have ambitions of explaining it all to an educable third party.

One aspect of Bolton’s narrative that seems quite amazing is the superficially inoffensive tone of some of the enemy quotes provided. Were it not because Bolton’s findings flow in the same direction as other books uncovering the machinations of the oligarchs and their partners in Western governments, or because the answer to cui bono is provided unequivocally by the unfolding of current and historical events, it would be easy to think that the statements quoted came from deluded idealists. It may be that some truly believe in the goodness of their cause, yet such selfless altruism is hard to believe given the known absence of ethics among our current elite of super-financiers—the banking system they engineered, not to mention many of the opaque financial instruments we have come to known through the still unfolding financial crisis in the West, is a deception designed to obscure a practice of legalised theft.

The lessons are clear: firstly, modern ‘colour revolutions’ are not instigated by public desires for more democratic or liberal governance, but by private desires for increased global power and control; secondly, subversive movements can be given a name and a face—a name and a face averse that hides behind generic institutional names and orchestrates world events at the end of a complex money trail; and thirdly, the those seeking fundamental change should first become proficient capitalists or learn how to gain access to them. These are all obvious, of course, but Revolution from Above is less about teaching those lessons than about documenting how the world is run, by whom, and for what purpose. In other words, this is material with which to back up assertions likely to be challenged by, or in front of, the unaware. Sober and factual in tone, it is also good gift material for those who may benefit from a bit of education.

With its November-28 cover story, “My Life as a White Supremacist,” Newsweek has published what amounts to an extended press release from the Southern Poverty Law Center. Featuring a flaming cross on the cover and pictures of brown-clad stormtroopers from the National Socialist Movement on the inside, one expects to read a suspenseful tale of intrigue and deception in the heart of America's vast Neo-Nazi underground—a kind of Turner Diaries in which The System is triumphant. What actually emerges is a story of government incompetence, the usual self-interested hyperventilating about a non-existent revolutionary movement, and the deluded actions of a sad old paleo-American, who sacrificed his life for people who hate him.

The story profiles one John Matthews, a Vietnam veteran and “ardent anticommunist” who had “long run in extremist circles.” Matthews, inspired by John Wayne, fought for his country in Vietnam. He returned to the United States, found that the nation “showed no respect for what he sacrificed,” and learned his comrades were contracting chronic health conditions from exposure to Agent Orange. Matthews become a part of the militia network around one Tom Posey, whom Oliver North and the Reagan Administration used to supply the Nicaraguan contras with weapons. Once he outlived his usefulness, however, Posey was prosecuted by the government. (Oliver North went on to Fox News.) Though he was eventually cleared, an embittered Posey allegedly began talking about stealing weapons and blowing up a nuclear plant to start a revolution. Matthews went straight to the FBI, who recruited him as an informant. He would stay an informant for the next 10 years. 

The author of the piece, R.M. Schneiderman, then takes us on a rather boring adventure, as Matthews meets with various self-important militia leaders who talk about elaborate schemes . . . but don’t seem to do very much. Hilariously, Schneiderman notes Matthews’s handler was a Black named Donald Jarrett, who “wore nice suits and kept his hair closely cropped” (as if he’s assuring us that he wasn’t wearing dreadlocks and a hoodie.) Given that the DEA is looking for ebonics translators, I suppose we should be grateful for that. Without much of a story, Schneiderman resorts to a grab bag of various media clichés about the “far right” and simply mixes them all together. Matthews sat in church pews “with would-be abortion-clinic bombers” (no elaboration). A supposed Vietnam vet shows up to a meeting wearing a green bomber jacket, which, we are solemnly informed, “was popular among skinheads at the time.” The story picks up when this man talks about robbing armored cars . . . but unfortunately it turns out that he, too, is FBI agent. For a report about 10 years in the Nazi underground, there’s not much of an underground and seemingly no Nazis.

There is, however, some semblance of the American Right, and there’s always good money for a reporter who can pathologize it. Schneiderman sneers, “Posey went on about the New World Order, which to extremists like him meant the threat of global takeover by an assortment of international organizations including banks, the United Nations, and other elite institutions.” One sighs with relief that such a view has no basis in truth and is only held by “extremists.” Even so, if only Posey had dressed in all black, instead of camo, and taken a shit on a police car, he could have been recognized as a proto-Occupy protester and be getting an adoring interview on Democracy Now as we speak.