An intense dialogue on consciousness, manipulation, the interpretation of the Bible and the common roots of religions: a discussion that raises fundamental questions about the world in which we live. There are conversations that merely pass by the listener, and there are others that compel us to pause, to step back from our mental habits, to suspend for a moment the categories through which we judge the world. The dialogue between Mauro Biglino and David Icke undoubtedly belongs to the latter category. This is not simply an interview. Rather, it is an exploration of themes that touch upon anthropology, religion, perception, power and consciousness. And this is precisely its most interesting feature: it does not proceed in a linear or reassuring manner, but forces us to question what we take for granted. What do we call ‘reality’? What do we mean by ‘God’? How much of what we perceive is truly our own, and how much, instead, is the product of programmes, filters, cultural constructs and systems of control? David Icke, as is well known, is a divisive figure. For over thirty years, he has put forward a radical vision of power, global manipulation and the nature of reality. He has been mocked, marginalised and often dismissed out of hand. And yet, it is precisely this position of his, outside the confines of accepted thought, that makes him an interesting interlocutor for Mauro Biglino, who has always been accustomed to tackling texts, words and translations without asking permission from the guardians of orthodoxy. The conversation begins with Icke’s personal story. His public career began in the world of professional football, moved on to journalism and the BBC, traversed British politics through his experience with the Green Party, and finally reached that inner turning point which he places between the late 1980s and 1990. It is there, according to his account, that anomalous perceptions, presences, intuitions and a series of events began, leading him to interpret his own life as the start of a mission: to bring to light secrets about how the world works. One may or may not agree with the account. But the central point is not the biography itself. The point is what Icke derives from that transition: the idea that behind the political, economic and social scenes, it is not the visible figures who are at work, but a much deeper network of power, composed of secret societies, structures of influence and forces not immediately perceptible. Presidents, governments, parliaments, leaders: for Icke, they are merely the outward faces of a theatre whose script is written elsewhere. Up to this point, one could still remain within the traditional realm of criticism of power. But the dialogue with Biglino goes much further. For Icke, in fact, the network of control is not merely human. It is said to respond to a non-human, extra-dimensional force, which has an interest in keeping humanity within a perceptual enclosure. And here emerges one of the interview’s most powerful themes: the notion of simulated reality. When Icke speaks of ‘simulation’, he does not use the term in a purely science-fictional sense. Rather, he links it to an idea of frequencies, information fields and the decoding of reality. From this perspective, the brain would not be the source of consciousness, but a processing tool. A bio-computer, says Icke, which translates an information field into sensory experience, just as a computer translates an invisible signal into images on a screen. Here the comparison with Mauro Biglino becomes particularly interesting. Biglino has worked extensively on the materiality of the biblical text, stripping it of theological superstructures and restoring it, as far as possible, to its literal meaning. Icke, for his part, offers a vision in which sensory reality itself is secondary, derived, translated. On the surface, the two approaches seem far apart; in reality, they converge at a crucial point: both challenge the official narrative. Both reject the idea that the world is exactly what we are told it is. Within this framework, the brain is not the sovereign, but the filter. It is not the ultimate seat of identity, but the interface that allows the system to function. According to Icke, human beings normally live identified with the ‘body programme’: biological automatisms, emotional reactions, survival mechanisms, fears, conditioning, impulses. In other words, most of what we believe to be ‘us’ is instead a sequence of programmed responses. This part of the discussion is important because it helps us understand the meaning Icke attributes to the term “awakening”. Awakening does not mean adhering to a new ideology, but ceasing to identify completely with the body-programme and allowing consciousness to enter. For him, consciousness is not a product of the brain: it is our true identity, infinitely vaster than our social personality, profession, function or role. It is here that the interview takes a further leap and addresses the theme of fear. According to Icke, the force controlling the simulation feeds on a specific energetic quality: that produced by low, dense emotions, linked above all to fear. Anxiety, hatred, depression, conflict, resentment, terror: all these conditions are said to generate the ‘frequency’ needed to keep the system alive. For this reason, those in power would have an interest in continually producing traumatic events, wars, crises, destruction and polarisation. Here, the reference to current events enters the discussion explicitly. Icke cites world wars, economic depressions and contemporary conflicts as enormous generators of low emotional energy. It is a radical interpretative framework, certainly extreme, but coherent in its structure: chaos would not be an accident of the system, but one of its functions. Not a side effect, but a deliberate product. From this perspective, the religious theme becomes central. And it is no coincidence that Mauro Biglino, who has for years been engaged in deconstructing dogmatic interpretations of the Bible, raises one of the most pertinent questions: do religions share a common origin? Icke’s answer is clear-cut. Yes. And not merely in a historical or cultural sense, but in a functional sense. Religions, like political ideologies and even orthodox science, operate as rigid belief systems, designed to confine the mind within insurmountable perceptual walls. The mechanism is simple: it matters little what you believe, provided you believe it rigidly, as part of your identity, and beyond question. Once the mind is imprisoned within a belief, the next step is equally inevitable: conflict with those who believe otherwise. It is the old ‘divide and rule’, but taken to a very deep level. Christianity versus Islam, right versus left, Judaism versus Christianity, science versus everything that transcends it: division continues to fragment that human mass which, if united and conscious, would make the domination of the few over the many impossible. For Icke, this is one of the decisive keys to human history. It is on this ground that one of the most delicate issues—and one closest to the themes addressed by Biglino in recent years—comes into play: Christian Zionism. Icke describes it as a force still little known in Italy, yet absolutely decisive in supporting the political agenda of the State of Israel through the literal interpretation of the Old Testament by vast Christian masses, particularly in the United States. This is no minor point. If the Old Testament is taken as a literal historical document and if the covenant between the biblical God and the people of Israel is interpreted in absolute terms, then contemporary politics is drawn into a theological framework. In this way, support for Israel does not stem from historical or geopolitical analysis, but from a religious imperative. And this, according to Icke, is the core of Christian Zionism: the conviction that supporting Israel is a theological duty, regardless of its actions. The subject is explosive, of course, and demands the utmost precision. But the value of the dialogue lies precisely in the fact that it brings to light a crux that is often overlooked: the power of religious interpretations in determining concrete politics. And here Biglino’s work takes centre stage, because his entire research stems precisely from the refusal to accept dogmatic tradition as the obligatory lens through which to read the biblical text. The interview also reveals a theological point of great interest: the idea that the ‘God’ of religions and the ‘devil’ of religions may, in reality, be two masks of the same controlling entity. Icke puts forward a radical thesis here: both the fear of evil and the worship of good, if channelled into the religious structure of simulation, would end up feeding the same source. In this framework, even worship and devotion become instruments for feeding energy into the system. It is a very harsh assertion, but not without internal coherence. If religion is the basis of human control, then even its strongest moral polarities must be traced back to the same matrix. The ‘true’ divine principle, says Icke, does not lie within the matrix, but outside it. Not in the judging God of religion, but in the infinite consciousness that precedes the simulation. From this arises the final question, perhaps the most important of all: is it possible to escape the simulation? For Icke, the answer is yes, but not in physical or spectacular terms. It is not a matter of ‘going elsewhere’, but rather of changing frequency, of transforming one’s identity, of ceasing to define oneself as a small, powerless, dependent ‘I’, and of recognising oneself as an expression of infinite consciousness. The language may seem unusual, but the core message is clear: domination is broken when the human being stops accepting the reduced definition of self that the system imposes on them. This concluding passage is also decisive from an anthropological perspective. Power always operates by restricting identity. It convinces you that you are merely your role, your profession, your fear, your social class, your political or religious label. Once you think of yourself as ‘only this’, you become manageable. But if identity expands, if it opens up, if it no longer coincides with the programme, then the very way of looking at the world changes. What was once invisible becomes evident. What seemed normal reveals its manipulative structure. The dialogue between Mauro Biglino and David Icke deserves attention because it does not demand immediate allegiance, but invites reflection. On the one hand, there is Biglino’s work on the biblical text and its layers; on the other, Icke’s interpretation of power, simulation and mechanisms of control. Two different paths, yet united by the same impulse: to question what is accepted as self-evident. The value of this conversation lies precisely here: not in offering reassuring certainties, but in reopening fundamental questions about reality, religion, fear, freedom and consciousness. And this is perhaps its most important point: to remind us that understanding the world means, first and foremost, learning to question it, without prejudice and without mental obedience.David Icke and Mauro Biglino: a dialogue that compels us to think
Who is David Icke and why does his journey continue to spark debate
David Icke’s theory of simulation
The brain as a filter: consciousness, perception and biological programme
The meaning of awakening in Icke’s view
Fear, war and control: how the system’s energy is generated
Religions, mind control and the common origin of belief systems
Christian Zionism, the Bible and contemporary politics
The God of religions and the problem of worship
How to escape the simulation: David Icke’s answer
Identità, coscienza e liberazione mentale
Why this conversation between Mauro Biglino and David Icke deserves attention
