Once one of the world’s greatest empires, the Islamic Ottoman empire began bleeding from a dozen cuts as nations surrounding it chipped away at its borders at the turn of the century. To save his empire from collapse, the Sultan made an alliance with the recently-unified Germany.
For hundreds of years, the boundaries of a heavily-divided Europe had been in flux, as had been the undivided Ottoman empire borders, based simply on strategic military interests and access to resources. But then while Europe nationalized from alliances of independent mini states into centralized imperial powers, Ottoman influence began fading fast. England had the world’s greatest navy, but Germany had the world’s greatest army, and if a Berlin-to-Baghdad railway line could be completed, it could allow German bases on the Black Sea and Persian Gulf, and permit unimpeded movement of German troops into Asia and Africa. The proposed railway line threatened economic competition with England’s control of the Gibraltar/Suez Canal route.
Prior to the invention of the steam engine, one of the greatest resources for war and trade was hemp, which was needed to outfit and propel ships-of-the-line, but suddenly the most important resource in the great game of war was coal for steam engines and dreadnought battleships. Due to her great coal reserves, England seldom looked abroad for energy, at least not until studies proved a ship run by oil was faster and more efficient than those run on coal. It was a young Secretary of the Navy named Winston Churchill who ordered the switch, something rapidly imitated by other great powers. Germany’s coal had been acquired from France as part of concessions after a recent war. Both Germany and England had sights set on Arabia, where immense oil reserves had just been located. Some of Russia’s oil fields had similarly been captured from the Ottomans. Whoever controlled the flow of oil out of Arabia would soon rule the future.
The only hiccup in Germany’s plan to take over the future world economy was the rising Balkan state of Serbia. Once a kernel in the great Ottoman empire, Serbia had established independence during the same nationalistic frenzy that had created Italy and Germany. Serbia was yearning to expand borders and unify its neighboring southern Slavic countries into one great Slavic nation. Meanwhile, Germany completed the Keil Canal linking the North and Baltic seas, a route that avoided the chokehold of getting dreadnoughts through the straits of Denmark. All these events created reverberations in the halls of military intelligence.
This is where the story gets complicated because Serbian military intelligence created a secret society obviously inspired (if not financed) by the Illuminati. They named it The Black Hand and deployed an icon not unlike the ones used by both Yale’s Skull & Bones and the Nazi SS. It appears in hindsight the Black Hand worked hand-in-glove with German, Austrian and Bosnian military intelligence to jumpstart the first world war with a carefully planned assassination of the heir to the Austrian throne, a man who had been urging greater Balkan independence, although his boss, the Emperor had just recently annexed Bosnia. The Black Hand tried first to assassinate the Emperor, but he was in his late eighties and didn’t have long to live anyway.
The Black Hand was created by Dragutin Dimitrijević after he orchestrated the murder of the King of Serbia and his wife in 1903. Officially, he became the “savior” of the nation for killing the king, as history is written by the winners, although fifteen years later Serbia concluded he was actually a traitor and executed him by firing squad in 1917. We can only wonder the full extent of the terror ops and various assassinations organized by the Black Hand, but it was the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand and his wife that sparked an Austrian invasion of Serbia that led to a world war.
You can watch a great film on Netflix titled Sarajevo that goes into some of the anomalies of this case. A group of 19-year-olds with tuberculosis were recruited to do the killing. Some had pistols, others had bombs. None of them knew much about the Black Hand and most of them punked out and did nothing but watch the parade go by. They were all naive, true-believing revolutionaries who thought they were tearing down the yokes of class division, while in truth, they were likely victims of an Illuminati operation to foment war, and the Black Hand was playing its own cards in the great game of spook versus counter spook. They probably picked terminally ill 19-year-olds because Bosnian law did not allow for the execution of anyone under 20.
When Leo Pfeffer was assigned to investigate the murder, he attempted to determine why no military were posted on the parade route, why the route was published in advance with the times the Archduke would pass through various intersections, and why after the Archduke survived the first bomb thrown at his vehicle, he was later driven back along the same route to a corner where another assassin was waiting for him to arrive. Like William Greer in Dealey Plaza, the driver of this car stopped inside the kill zone, and gave plenty of time for an assassin five feet away to aim and fire two shots. When Pfeffer attempted to interview this driver, he vanished. When Pfeffer tried to follow the trail of investigation, it led straight to an army doctor who seems to have been an undercover German agent. When he pulled the doctor’s file, great swaths had been blacked-out by Bosnian military intelligence. It didn’t matter much, however, because by the time this case finally went to trial, the first world war was already well under way.
Watch the film and similarities with JFK’s assassination in Dallas may jump out, which leads to a possibility that event could have been an Illuminati op as well. But that should not surprise since Bonesmen were all wrapped up in that event, and they are the only proven links to the society, while Illuminati links to the Black Hand have yet to be uncovered.