The first proof lies in the forced identity created during slavery. Enslaved Ibriym (Hebrews)—those who cross over—were stripped of their tribal names and given slave labels that evolved into terms such as “Negro,” “Colored,” and eventually “African American.” These labels did not reflect heritage, but instead imposed categories built by colonizers. This renaming and reframing were the first steps in manufacturing a culture that could be shaped and steered according to the interests of foreign powers. Furthermore, Slave Codes throughout the Americas strictly enforced the prohibition of reading, writing, and unauthorized assembly, ensuring that the generational transmission of history, language, and covenant memory was legally impossible. Scripture had already warned of this stripping away as part of the curses: “And you shall become an astonishment, a proverb, and a byword, among all nations where 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH) shall lead you” (Deuteronomy 28:37). The loss of name, identity, and true memory was no accident—it was prophecy.

This system was never about the true Way. It was about molding captives into a submissive people who could not recall their covenant heritage. It created a class of "believers" who shouted “praises” to the very names and images that enslaved them, while their true identity was locked away. 

The colonizer’s religion was forced upon them as a mask, so that the descendants of Abram would forget their own language, their own culture, and their own AL’uah (Mighty One). Yet even this was part of the covenant design. The four hundred years of affliction prophesied to Abram (Barashiyth (Genesis) 15:13–14) had to run its course. From 1619 to 2019, a false “Negro Christian” identity served as the cage to keep the Hebrews hidden. But now, as the time of awakening arrives, the chains of that false book are broken. The so-called Negro is revealed to be the chosen seed, rising again in remembrance of 𐤉𐤄𐤅𐤄 (YaHU’aH).

Education systems played a major role in this process. Colonial schools, missionary teaching, and later state-run curriculums ensured that the children of Yashar’al never learned their true history or tongue. Instead, they were taught to honor the achievements of their oppressors and to despise their own heritage. YarmiYAHU (Jeremiah) warned of this stripping away: “And you, even yourself, shall discontinue from your heritage that I gave you” (Jeremiah 17:4).

A critical, often overlooked, pillar of the manufactured culture is the intentional destruction of the covenant family structure. Policies ranging from the forced separation of families during slavery to later, post-emancipation government systems incentivized the absence of the patriarchal head of the household. This systemic dismantling prevented the creation of stable, multi-generational wealth and, more importantly, broke the divine order required for the true transmission of covenant history, law, and culture. The result is a people structurally incapable of unified self-determination because the foundational unit—the family—was legally and financially targeted for destabilization.

The most insidious weapon utilized for this purpose in the post-Jim Crow era was the welfare system, specifically programs like Aid to Families with Dependent Children (AFDC). These policies were explicitly structured to deny aid to households where an able-bodied man (the father) resided, creating a powerful economic incentive for the head of the household to exit the home. This government-mandated structure ensured the continued disintegration of the male role within the family, tying dependency directly to the system of control. This serves as a modern fulfillment of the curse of being perpetually under the enemy’s control and serving them in “want of all things” (Deuteronomy 28:48), by making the very provision of need conditional upon the destruction of the divine family order.

The manufactured identity also relies heavily on economic colonization and the creation of debt cycles. While the concept of "Black Wall Street" represented organic, covenant-aligned economic independence, these structures were systematically destroyed. In their place, the people were driven into a cycle of hyper-consumerism, celebrated by the media (sneaker culture, luxury brands, bling) and enforced by discriminatory lending and housing practices, ensuring that wealth was extracted and intergenerational debt replaced inheritance. This system of economic control keeps the community perpetually focused on chasing external acceptance (materialism) rather than building independent community strength.

One of the most powerful tools ever used to reshape the direction of an oppressed people was not chains or whips, but hope framed inside the limits of the very system that caused the suffering. The figure most often used to deliver this redirection was Martin Luther King Jr., whose message has been frozen in time, selectively edited, and repackaged as the moral foundation for modern “equality,” “integration,” and ultimately a one-system world ideology disguised as peace and unity.

The popular version of King taught in schools and promoted by media is not the full man, nor the full movement, nor the full agenda of the civil-rights era. His most repeated phrase, “I have a dream,” has been transformed into a worldwide slogan meaning assimilation into the existing power structure, not restoration of identity, land, covenant, or self-governance. The dream that is celebrated is not freedom from domination, but acceptance within it.

What is almost never discussed in mainstream civil-rights storytelling is that Martin Luther King Jr. was publicly affiliated with Prince Hall Freemasonry, an organization that operates within the same hierarchical fraternal structure as mainstream Freemasonry, using identical ritual systems, secrecy oaths, and chain-of-command governance.

Freemasonry, regardless of race-based lodges, is built on elite networking, political influence, and ideological loyalty to fraternal order above public transparency. Throughout Western history, Masonic lodges have functioned as social control networks connecting politicians, military officers, business leaders, law enforcement, and religious institutions under shared symbolic allegiance and mutual protection.

This matters because revolutions that truly threaten power are never managed by fraternal gatekeeping systems. They are crushed.

It is also important to understand that this was not a righteous movement that was later hijacked after gaining influence. The framework, funding channels, political access, and media exposure were present from the earliest stages. King did not rise organically from uncontrolled grassroots revolt that later became negotiable. He was elevated rapidly, protected strategically, and placed into direct dialogue with national and international power structures from the start.

That does not happen to movements that threaten empire.

From early on, his platform was aligned with institutions, universities, churches tied to political donors, fraternal networks, and elite social organizations that already operated within established power structures. One of the clearest public examples of this alignment was his close relationship with Rabbi Jacob Rothschild of The Temple in Atlanta, a figure deeply connected to influential financial and political networks.

Rothschild was not a passive supporter standing on the sidelines.

This matters because genuine revolutionary movements are not welcomed into elite halls, funded by powerful benefactors, or celebrated by financial and political institutions whose wealth and influence were built on the very systems being protested. They are isolated, demonized, economically strangled, and violently suppressed.

But movements that can be shaped into integrationist reform projects, rather than structural dismantling campaigns, are supported, protected, and broadcast.

This is why later attempts to pivot toward economic justice and war opposition were met with immediate hostility, surveillance, and silencing. Once a figure begins stepping outside the assigned boundaries, the usefulness ends. Controlled roles have limits, and those limits are enforced.

So, the dream was not merely reshaped after the fact.
It was deployed from the beginning as the acceptable emotional outlet for suffering that would never be allowed to become structural rebellion.