“The Roadmap: Escaping the Maze of Madness,” David Icke‘s latest book, is the starting point for a reflection that concerns not only current events, but the very way we interpret power, both yesterday and today. The title suggests an image that, in my opinion, is effective in helping us understand who really governs us: a complex, opaque, layered system in which finding one’s way requires method, not emotion.
In a recent conversation with Elisabetta, we decided to cautiously address one of the topics most frequently requested by our readers: the Epstein-Maxwell affair. Not to indulge in sensationalism, but to verify whether and to what extent what emerges today in the news has structural similarities with the ancient texts that I have been studying for years and to which the actors and elites of the main nation of reference constantly refer to the so-called biblical “God.”
Why we also read controversial authors
David Icke is a controversial author. A former professional soccer player, BBC sports journalist, and former spokesperson for the Green Party in the United Kingdom, he has been conducting independent research on the dynamics of global power since 1991. His theories—from holographic reality to the hypothesis of an interdimensional hierarchy—which one may or may not agree with, are well known and often the subject of derision.
It is not necessary to agree with them in order to recognize one fact: for decades, he has insisted on the existence of structured elites, protection networks, and control mechanisms. Today, in the face of documented court cases, some categories that were once dismissed as fantasies require at least a more cautious analysis.
It is essential to distinguish between established facts, deductions, and hypotheses. The method remains the same as that which I apply to biblical texts: read, verify, do not correct the text to adapt it to what we would like it to say.
However, we are undeniably faced with a text that has been invoked by presidents in the US and Israel, rulers of Great Britain…
Chapter 19: “Who or what is the biblical God?”
In chapter 19 of his book, Icke devotes an extensive analysis to my work, particularly to Gods of the Bible. The question he asks is radical: who—or what—is the biblical God?
The first step is to remove the theological patina. If you read the Hebrew text without superstructures, what emerges is a subject who commands, fights, punishes, establishes alliances, and enters into conflict. A character of action, not a metaphysical abstraction.
Here the crux is linguistic.
Elohim: the removed plural
Terms such as Elohim are systematically translated into the singular. Yet the text contains explicit forms.
Among the many cited in my book and taken up by Icke, we quote
- “Let us make man in our image” (Genesis 1:26)
- “Man has become like one of us” (Genesis 3:22)
- “Let us go down and confuse their language” (Genesis 11:7)
The plural is grammatical before it is theological. If the plural is retained, many supposed “inconsistencies” disappear. If it is reduced to the singular, the whole perspective is altered.
This is not a matter of interpretation, but of syntactic structure. The problem arises when translation becomes a tool for affirming a dogma developed later.
Hierarchy and power
Expressions such as “Who is like you among the Elohim?” or “Yahweh is the greatest of the Elohim” outline a hierarchy. Saying “the greatest” presupposes a plurality. The image is that of a structured system, not an absolute monologue.
The Bible depicts a context in which religion and political power coincide. Civil laws are sacred laws; the sovereign is the representative—or emanation—of the deity. In this framework, religion functions as a tool for justifying and administering power.
The Roman principle of divide et impera is not a modern invention. The separation of groups, the construction of opposing identities, and the idea of exclusive belonging are structural elements of every system of domination.
Ruach and Kavod: from mysticism to concreteness
Icke also takes up two terms that are central to my work:
- Ruach: wind, moving air.
- Kavod: weight, concreteness, massive presence.
When rendered as “Spirit” and “Glory,” the reader is directed toward a mystical dimension. When the concrete meanings are retained, the text describes physical phenomena: noise, precise directional movement in a well-identified space, localized light, interaction with the environment.
In Ezekiel’s so-called “visions,” the Hebrew term indicates what was actually seen, not a dreamlike experience. The descriptions include sounds, movements, and variations in light intensity. These are technical narratives rendered with the vocabulary available at the time.
This is the same approach taken by Joseph Blumrich, a NASA engineer, who, upon an initial proposal for a technical reading by his dear friend Erich von Däniken, initially refused to consider such a hypothesis but later regretted it. In fact, when he analyzed the text as a descriptive project, he found absolutely precise technical details—therefore not negligible—and later published The Spaceships of Ezekiel.
Not an act of faith, but a technical exercise: verifying whether the description holds up in its sequence of details.
The burning bush and the term “seneh”
Icke also refers to the famous episode in Exodus 3 (clearly described in my book with the Hebrew verses and their literal translation), noting that the perspective changes when one considers that “seneh” indicates not only a bush, but also a rocky ridge explicitly named as such in another biblical passage, as documented in my work cited by the author. The image of a God who “dwells in a bush” (terminology used by the Bible according to traditional translations) seems unacceptable, while that of a presence on a rocky hilltop is consistent—according to logic and common sense—with the appellation “God of the mountains” or “El Shaddai.”
From ancient text to contemporary chronicle
Icke’s new book devotes ample space to the Epstein-Maxwell case. Without entering into arbitrary deductions, it is undeniable that the investigations have highlighted cross-cutting relationships between figures of high political, economic, and institutional power. Details are emerging that seem to suggest a preordained and well-established system with safety nets and consolidated mechanisms of impunity.
Unfortunately, even the so-called “sacred” text (well present in that environment, as already mentioned above) seems to anticipate or suggest dynamics not far from the current ones.
In the First Book of Samuel (8:11-18), we read that “the king will take your sons and your daughters.” The Book of Numbers (31) explicitly refers to “young women kept alive as spoils.”
The biblical text describes in countless passages the existence of a separate caste, with rights different from the few granted to the population, which considers others as mere property to be disposed of.
The structural analogies therefore concern the underlying mechanism: an elite that perceives itself as distinct, superior, and legitimized to act beyond common morality.
Method, not ridicule
It is essential to distinguish between judicial documentation (which for now still seems to be partial), interpretative hypotheses, and propagandistic narratives, which are irrelevant and should be avoided in order to arrive at an idea that is as close as possible to the real dynamics.
For this reason, we have carefully read the new book by someone who has dedicated a life, at times a very uncomfortable one, to trying to bring to light the events and behaviors of a privileged and protected caste that is now asserting itself by force.
My work remains anchored in philology: analyzing terms, respecting syntax, letting the description remain a description.
Ridiculing those who ask questions is often the easiest way to avoid answering them.
If this method also helps to clarify contemporary scenarios, so much the better. Not to impose conclusions, but to provide tools for reading and independent reflection.
Knowing the past does not guarantee a certain and indisputable understanding of the present, but it makes it less superficial: it makes us understand how deeply rooted ideas are in certain areas of power.
The “maze of madness” can have many rooms. The only way out, as far as I am concerned, always remains the same: observe events, carefully return to the texts that are directly and indirectly present in those events, analyze, distinguish, study, verify.
