Harold Michael Harvey - A Major Research Presentation, Including Black Gold and Red Shadows Parts I-IV Now We Know the Why Behind Today's Chaos! Trying Post Again...

From Sarajevo to the Southern Hemisphere

Ultimatums, Empires, and the Echoes of War

On a sunlit morning in Sarajevo, June 28, 1914, a 19-year-old Bosnian Serb named Gavrilo Princip stepped from a crowd and fired two shots that would fracture the world. His bullets struck down Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria-Hungary and his wife, Sophie, igniting a chain reaction that would engulf continents. The assassination was not merely a murder—it was a match tossed into a powder keg of alliances, grievances, and imperial ambitions.

Austria-Hungary, backed by Germany, issued a sweeping ultimatum to Serbia. Serbia’s partial compliance was deemed insufficient. Among other
things, Germany demanded that Serbia allow German investigators to enter Serbia, thereby compromising Serbia’s sovereignty. This was a bridge too far for the Serbians. Within weeks, the world’s great powers-- Britain, France, Russia, Germany, and the Ottoman Empire, were at war. The First World War would claim over 20 million lives, redraw borders, and dismantle four empires. But it also revealed something more profound: how ultimatums, when issued by empires in decline or ascent, often mask deeper contests over sovereignty, resources, and racial hierarchy.

The war’s aftermath was a feast for the victors. Germany was stripped of its colonies and forced to pay crippling reparations. The Ottoman Empire was
carved up; its Arab provinces were handed to Britain and France under the guise of League of Nations mandates. France reclaimed Alsace-Lorraine. Italy gained territory. Japan seized German holdings in the Pacific. The United States, though late to the war, emerged as a global creditor and industrial power.

But the spoils were not merely territorial. They were ideological. The war reified the logic of racialized  empire even as it exposed its contradictions. Over a million African and African American soldiers served in the war. Black Americans like the Harlem Hell-fighters fought valiantly in France, only to return home to segregation and the Red Summer of 1919.

African troops from Senegal, Algeria, and Nigeria were conscripted into brutal labor and front-line service, often denied recognition or  compensation. Their blood helped redraw Europe’s map, but their names, somehow, were not etched into its monuments.

 

Fast forward to the present. President Donald Trump, in his second term, has revived the language of ultimatums—this time directed not at European monarchies but at postcolonial states in Africa and South America. In October 2025, Trump declared Nigeria a “country of particular concern” for religious freedom and threatened military intervention if the government failed to protect Christians. Days later, he authorized a dramatic military buildup in the Caribbean, targeting Venezuela’s Maduro regime and signaling potential land strikes.

These ultimatums, cloaked in the rhetoric of religious liberty and narcoterrorism, echo the imperial logic of 1914: moral justification masking geopolitical ambition. Venezuela, for its part, has intensified its claim over the oil-rich Essequibo region of Guyana, where ExxonMobil has discovered over 11 billion barrels of recoverable oil. The area has become a flashpoint, with Venezuelan forces accused of hybrid warfare tactics, cross-border raids, referenda, and map redrawing eerily reminiscent of Crimea.

Should conflict erupt, the “spoil of war” would be clear: control over one of the most lucrative oil reserves in the Western Hemisphere. For a U.S. administration eager to reassert hemispheric dominance and secure energy independence, the temptation is palpable. But the cost—human, moral, and geopolitical—could be catastrophic.


Photo by Ameer Umar on Pexels.com, Nigeria

To understand the stakes in Nigeria, one must
revisit the Biafran War (1967–1970)—a brutal civil
conflict rooted in ethnic and religious divisions
between the Hausa-Fulani (Muslim) in the north and
the Igbo (Christian) in the southeast. After a series
of coups and anti-Igbo massacres, the Eastern
Region declared independence as the Republic of
Biafra. The war, fought over sovereignty and control
of oil-rich lands, claimed up to three million lives,
mainly through famine.

The Nigerian government, backed by Britain and the Soviet Union, crushed the secession. But the war left deep scars. The slogan “No victor, no vanquished” masked enduring marginalization and mistrust. Today, those same fault lines persist. Attacks on churches, reprisal killings, and political exclusion have reignited calls for Biafran autonomy. Trump’s ultimatum, framed as a defense of Christians, risks inflaming these tensions and internationalizing a domestic crisis.

Just as the Biafran War was fought over oil and identity, any future conflict would likely center on the Niger Delta, which remains home to vast oil reserves. The spoils of war, once again, would be black gold and Black lives. And Black lives have never mattered to the U. S. in Asia, Africa, or the islands of the seas.

What remains unresolved, a century after Sarajevo, is the role of Black and colonized peoples in these imperial dramas. In 1914, they were conscripted without consent. In 2025, they are still too often the collateral, whether in the Niger Delta’s oil fields or the barrios of Caracas or the ghettoes of Memphis or Los Angeles. Yet their memory endures. Their service, their resistance, and their authorship of freedom movements from Harlem to Accra to Johannesburg remain a counter-archive to the official record.

As we stand on the precipice of another resource-driven conflict, we must ask: Who writes the ultimatums? Who bears their cost? And who will be remembered when the maps are redrawn?

Or we could “Seize the Times,” as Bobby Seals, Co-chair of the Black Panther Party for Self-Defense, urged in the 1960s, and demand no wars in Africa in our name under the pretext of coming to the aid of Christians. Especially, when Christian charity is not shown to children whose families depend on the SNAP program to put food on the table, and when the so-called Christian nation of the U. S. allows an occupying nation to kill women and children at will in Gaza for years, justifying it as an act of revenge for the October 7, 2023, attack by Hamas.

How much revenge is enough? The solution to genocide in Gaza is not in a so-called peace agreement. The best solution is for the U. S. to stop funding Israel. Likewise, the solution in Nigeria is for the U. S. to stop funding both sides of what is essentially warfare over who controls the oil and the money that flows from it. Without the U.S.’s greedy hands and clandestine operations in Nigeria, the hostilities would not have existed.

Hands off! No U. S. wars on African soil!

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Nigeria’s Black Gold and Broken Promises
Biafra, the Niger Delta, and the Long War for Sovereignty

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In the heart of southeastern Nigeria lies the Niger Delta, a region rich in oil and memory. It was here, in 1967, that the Republic of Biafra declared independence, igniting a civil war that would claim millions of lives and expose the fault lines of a postcolonial nation still tethered to imperial logic. Today, as foreign powers issue ultimatums and eye the region’s resources, the ghosts of Biafra stir once more.

The Biafran War was born of betrayal--political, ethnic, and economic. Following a series of coups and massacres targeting the Igbo people, Nigeria’s Eastern Region, led by Lt. Colonel Odumegwu Ojukwu, declared independence. The new Republic of Biafra sought to protect its people and control its oil-rich lands.

The federal government, dominated by the Hausa-Fulani Muslim elite, responded with force. Backed by Britain and the Soviet Union, Nigeria launched a brutal campaign to crush the secession. The war lasted 30 months, killing between 500,000 and 3 million people, primarily through starvation. The oil fields of the Niger Delta were both the prize and the battleground.

In 1970, Dr. Njaka, a general in the Biafran Army, fled Nigeria and accepted a position at Tuskegee Institute, where he chaired the Political Science department. He believed deeply in the need for a sovereign Biafra, free from the influence of the Muslim north, propped up, he said, by British and Soviet interests. “America could have come to our aid,” he told me, “But they didn’t want to go against the British.” Then, with a twinkle in his eye and a strong British accent resonating from below his navel, he added: “The White man always sticks together.”

His words, spoken with both resignation and clarity, revealed the racial and geopolitical alliances that shaped the war and still shape the region today.

Even after Biafra’s defeat, the Niger Delta remained a site of extraction and exploitation. Multinational oil companies (Shell, Chevron, ExxonMobil) pumped billions in crude while local communities suffered environmental devastation, poverty, and militarization.

Movements such as MOSOP (Movement for the Survival of the Ogoni People) and MEND (Movement for the Emancipation of the Niger Delta) emerged in protest, demanding equity, autonomy, and environmental justice. The Nigerian state responded with crackdowns, arrests, and the execution of activists like Ken Saro-Wiwa.

The region’s oil wealth has never translated into prosperity for its people. Instead, it has invited corruption, conflict, and foreign interest.

In 2025, President Trump’s ultimatum to Nigeria, demanding protection for Christians or facing military consequences, reignited fears of fragmentation. The southeast, still home to many Igbo Christians, remains politically marginalized and economically neglected.

Calls for Biafran autonomy have resurfaced, fueled by memories of betrayal and the enduring logic of extraction. The Niger Delta, once again, is at the center of the storm. Foreign powers eye its reserves. Militants threaten pipelines. Communities demand justice.

If conflict erupts, the spoil of war will be clear: control over one of Africa’s richest oil basins. However, the deeper question remains: who owns the memory? Who writes the history? And who will be remembered when the wells run dry?

The story of Biafra and the Niger Delta is not just about war; it’s about authorship. It’s about reclaiming the narrative from those who profited from silence. It’s about honoring the dead, amplifying the living, and resisting the erasure of a people who dared to declare their dignity.

As new ultimatums echo across the hemisphere, we must remember Biafra not as a failed state, but as a prophetic voice. One that warned us, decades ago, that sovereignty without justice is no sovereignty at all.

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Photo by Aleks Marinkovic on Pexels.com

EDITOR’S NOTE: Xplisset mused the other day about how the Brits and the Soviets gained a foothold in Nigerian oil fields. Tomorrow I will begin a four-part series to explore how this happened.

Oil is never just oil. In Nigeria, it has been the empire’s prize, the war’s engine, and the people’s paradox. From the First World War onward, Britain tightened its colonial grip on Nigeria’s oil future, laying pipelines of power that still shape the nation today. The Soviet Union, although it never drilled a barrel, cast its own shadow, training minds, seeding ideas, and offering an ideological counterpoint during the Cold War.

This series, Black Gold and Red Shadows, traces that double inheritance: Britain’s material entrenchment and the Soviets’ intellectual imprint. Across four parts, we’ll explore:

Part I: Britain’s Grip on Nigeria’s Oil — how colonial law and Shell-BP secured control.

Part II: The Soviet Shadow — scholarships, ideology, and the minds shaped in Moscow.

Part III: Collision and Continuity — the Nigerian Civil War as a crucible of oil, empire, and ideology.

Part IV: Legacies — how pipelines and ideas still echo in Nigeria’s oil politics today.

Nigeria’s oil story is not just about geology; it’s about geopolitics, ideology, and memory. Britain left behind contracts and infrastructure; the Soviets left behind questions and critiques. Both legacies continue to shape Nigeria’s struggle for sovereignty, justice, and self-definition.

As Kwame Nkrumah warned in 1965: “Her earth is rich, yet the products that come from above and below the soil continue to enrich, not Africans predominantly, but groups and individuals who operate to Africa’s impoverishment.”

This series asks: how do we reckon with that paradox today?

Over the coming days, each installment will unfold like a rhythm, with material power on one beat and ideological shadow on the next. Together, they form a syncopated truth about Nigeria’s oil: that it has always been contested, and that its future depends on remembering the past.

Let’s trace the pipelines and the shadows and ask what sovereignty really means in the age of oil, and Trump’s threats to send U. S. troops into Nigeria.

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Black Gold and Red Shadows, Part I
Britain’s Grip on Nigeria’s Oil

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When the First World War ended in 1918, Britain emerged battered but still clinging to its empire. The war had revealed a new truth: oil was no longer just a commodity; it was the bloodstream of modern power. In Nigeria, still a colonial possession, the story of oil was only beginning. Yet the structures Britain built in the aftermath of the war ensured that when oil did flow, it would do so under imperial control.
In 1914, Britain had already fused Northern and Southern Nigeria into a single colony. Officially, this was about efficiency. In reality, it was about money. The North was running a deficit; the South, with its ports and trade, was in surplus. By binding them together, Britain created a centralized administration that could balance the books—and, crucially, centralize control over any future mineral wealth.

This was the blueprint: a Nigeria where resources would be managed from the colonial center, not by the communities that lived on the land.

By the 1930s, British companies were prospecting for oil in the Niger Delta. The search was slow, but the legal framework was already tilted in their favor. Concessions were granted to British firms, and colonial ordinances ensured that the Crown held ultimate authority over subsoil resources.

It wasn’t until 1956 that Shell-BP struck commercial oil at Oloibiri, in today’s Bayelsa State. But by then, the path had been paved: Britain had secured exclusive access, and Nigerian communities had been written out of the story. The oil and money would go to Great Britain, and the Nigerians would provide cheap labor, making the oil reserve very profitable to the Crown.

This plan was not significantly different from those on plantations in the southern United States during the 18th and 19th centuries. The British became more affluent, while Nigerians became poorer, without control over their natural resources. Yet Nigeria is confronted with the banality bordering on triteness of a 21st-century U. S. President who calls Nigeria a “shit hole country.”

Suppose the American President’s postulation is correct. What then does that make of the Brits and the Yankees who raped the sub-soil of Nigeria for its riches without investing back into the Nigerian people?

Britain’s postwar imperial strategy was clear: secure energy resources across its colonies to fuel both industry and influence. Nigeria’s reserves became a cornerstone of this plan. Even as independence loomed in 1960, Britain ensured that Shell-BP and other Western firms would remain entrenched.

The logic was simple: political independence could be granted, but economic dependence—especially in the oil sector would remain.

African leaders saw the trap. In 1965, Kwame Nkrumah wrote in Neo-Colonialism: The Last Stage of Imperialism:

“Africa is a paradox which illustrates and highlights neo-colonialism. Her earth is rich, yet the products that come from above and below the soil continue to enrich, not Africans predominantly, but groups and individuals who operate to Africa’s impoverishment.”

Though Nkrumah was speaking of the continent broadly, his words could have been written for the Niger Delta, where oil wealth would enrich foreign companies while local communities bore the costs.

Britain’s grip on Nigeria’s oil was not forged in the oil fields themselves, but in the laws, concessions, and administrative structures laid down after the First World War. By the time oil was discovered in commercial quantities, the colonial scaffolding ensured that Britain—and its corporate partners—would reap the rewards.

This is the material legacy: pipelines, contracts, and a centralized revenue system that privileged the state and foreign firms over local communities. The lighter-skinned races of people have often entered countries occupied by darker-skinned races and negotiated deals using their system of contracts to gain control over land, such as the purchase of New York.

In the case of Nigeria, this has involved securing rights to the mineral-rich subsoil on the land, a fundamentally uneven legal negotiation. For instance, New York was paid for with a few trinkets. In Nigeria, human beings were sold by bribing trial leaders, and oil is siphoned off to the West through similar agreements written on paper between Nigerian leaders and the oil barons in the West.

Into this mix, the U. S. President is threatening to send U. S. troops into Nigeria under the guise of protecting Nigeria’s Christian population. Still, the wise know, it is ostensibly to gain control of the black gold flowing abundantly underneath the feet of the Nigerian people, who have learned over time to mine their own oil fields.

In the next installment, we’ll turn to the Soviet Union not as a colonial master, but as an ideological suitor. If Britain built the pipelines, the Soviets sought to shape the minds that would question who those pipelines served.

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Black Gold and Red Shadows, Part II
The Soviet Shadow

If Britain built the pipelines, the Soviets sought to shape the minds that would question who those pipelines served. After Nigeria’s independence in 1960, the Soviet Union moved quickly to establish ties—not through oil concessions, which Britain and other Western firms jealously guarded, but through ideas, education, and solidarity.

From the early 1960s, Moscow opened its universities to Nigerian students. Hundreds traveled to Moscow, Kyiv, and Leningrad to study engineering, medicine, agriculture, and political science. For the Soviets, this was not charity—it was a strategic move. By training a generation of African professionals, they hoped to seed socialist sympathies and cultivate allies in the Global South.

One Nigerian student later recalled: “We were taught that oil was not just fuel, but power. The West used it to dominate; we were told we could use it to liberate.”

These young Nigerians returned home with both technical expertise and a sharpened critique of Western imperialism. Some became professors, others civil servants, and still others union leaders. Their influence was less visible than Shell-BP’s derricks, but it was no less real.

When Nigeria descended into civil war in 1967, the Soviets faced a choice. At first, they sympathized with Biafra’s secessionist cause, seeing echoes of anti-colonial struggle. But geopolitics prevailed. By 1968, Moscow had shifted its support to the federal government, supplying arms and technical assistance.

General Yakubu Gowon, leading the federal side, made the stakes plain: “Our oil is the engine of this war effort, and we must protect it at all costs.”

For the Soviets, this was less about oil itself and more about influence. By backing the federal government, they secured a foothold in West Africa and demonstrated their willingness to counterbalance Western dominance.

The most enduring Soviet legacy in Nigeria was not military but intellectual. Soviet-trained Nigerians reshaped university curricula, infused labor movements with a socialist critique, and introduced centralized planning models into government discourse.

In the 1970s, Nigerian labor activists—many influenced by socialist thought—called for nationalization of oil: “The wealth of the Niger Delta must serve the people, not foreign masters.”

Though military regimes and entrenched corporate interests often sidelined their demands, their voices kept alive an alternative vision of sovereignty—one rooted in collective ownership and resistance to neo-colonial control.

The Soviet Union never drilled a barrel of Nigerian oil. Its influence was not measured in contracts or concessions, but in classrooms, lecture halls, and union meetings. Britain left behind pipelines and corporate entrenchment; the Soviets left behind ideas and trained minds.

In the next installment, we’ll bring these two legacies into collision—examining how Britain’s material grip and the Soviet Union’s ideological shadow intersected during Nigeria’s civil war and beyond.

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Black Gold and Red Shadows, Part III
Collision and Continuity

By the late 1960s, Nigeria’s oil was no longer a distant promise—it was a prize. The discovery at Oloibiri in 1956 had matured into a steady flow, and Shell-BP’s derricks dotted the Niger Delta. But as the nation fractured into civil war in 1967, oil became more than an economic resource. It became the engine of survival, the bargaining chip of diplomacy, and the battlefield of competing empires.

Britain’s position was clear: defend the federal government, defend Shell-BP. London supplied arms, intelligence, and diplomatic cover to General Yakubu Gowon’s regime. For Britain, the war was not only about keeping Nigeria intact but about ensuring that oil exports remained uninterrupted.

As one British diplomat bluntly put it in 1968: “Our interests are Shell’s interests, and Shell’s interests are ours.”

This was the naked truth of neo-colonial entang entanglement: the fate of a newly independent African nation tethered to the balance sheets of a multinational corporation.

The Soviet Union, meanwhile, had initially flirted with sympathy for Biafra’s secessionist cause. But by 1968, Moscow recalibrated. The federal government, not Biafra, offered the greater prize: legitimacy, influence, and a chance to counter Western dominance in West Africa.

Soviet arms began flowing to Lagos. Technical advisers followed. For the first time, Nigeria became a stage where Britain and the USSR stood on the same side—both backing the federal government, though for different reasons.

General Gowon himself acknowledged the centrality of oil: “Our oil is the engine of this war effort, and we must protect it at all costs.”

Caught between these global powers were Nigerians themselves—soldiers, civilians, intellectuals, and activists. For many, the war underscored the paradox of independence: political sovereignty without economic control.

Labor unions, often influenced by socialist thought, began to demand nationalization of oil. One union leader declared in 1971: “The wealth of the Niger Delta must serve the people, not foreign masters.”

In universities, Soviet-trained academics introduced critiques of capitalism and centralized planning models. In villages, however, oil meant displacement, environmental degradation, and the slow erosion of traditional livelihoods.

The Nigerian Civil War revealed the strange convergence of Britain and the Soviet Union. Both backed the federal government, but for different ends: Britain to protect Shell-BP, the Soviets to gain geopolitical leverage.

Yet the deeper collision was not between London and Moscow, but between Nigerians and the structures imposed upon them. Britain’s corporate entrenchment and the Soviet Union’s ideological outreach collided in Nigeria’s institutions, leaving a legacy of dependency, critique, and contested sovereignty.

By the war’s end in 1970, Nigeria had emerged bloodied but intact. Oil revenues surged, but so did foreign entanglements. Britain had secured its corporate stake; the Soviets had secured a foothold in Nigeria’s imagination and diplomacy. Tribal animosity between the Muslims and the Christians shifted to a cold war that has spilled over to the outright slaughter of Christians by the majority Muslim areas in the north.

The collision of black gold and red shadows left Nigeria with a dual inheritance: pipelines that carried wealth outward, and ideas that questioned why.

In the final installment, we’ll trace these legacies into the present—how Britain’s material grip and the Soviet Union’s ideological shadow continue to echo in Nigeria’s oil politics today.

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Black Gold and Red Shadows, Part IV
Legacies

By 1970, the Nigerian Civil War had ended, but the struggle over oil was only beginning. The war had revealed oil’s centrality to Nigeria’s survival, and it had also exposed the competing hands that sought to shape its destiny. Britain left behind pipelines, contracts, and corporate entrenchment. The Soviet Union left behind ideas, trained minds, and a critique of dependency. Both legacies continue to reverberate.

· Corporate Entrenchment: Shell-BP, later joined by Mobil, Chevron, and others, remained dominant in Nigeria’s oil sector. The contracts and concessions negotiated under colonial and early postcolonial regimes ensured that foreign firms controlled production and exports.

· Revenue Centralization: Britain’s colonial blueprint, placing mineral wealth under central authority, remained intact. Even after independence, oil revenues continued to flow to the federal government, often at the expense of the producing communities in the Niger Delta.

· Neo-Colonial Continuity: As one Nigerian economist lamented in the 1980s, “We traded one master for another. Independence gave us flags and anthems but not control of our resources.”

Universities and Unions: Soviet-trained Nigerians reshaped curricula, infused labor movements with socialist critique, and challenged the dominance of Western economic models.

Alternative Visions: They argued for nationalization, collective ownership, and development strategies rooted in sovereignty rather than dependency.

Lingering Influence: Even as the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991, the intellectual seeds it planted continued to shape debates about Nigeria’s place in the global economy.

One Nigerian professor, reflecting on his years in Moscow, put it this way: “The Soviets did not give us oil rigs, but they gave us questions—questions about who owns the rigs, who profits from them, and who pays the price.”

Today, Nigeria remains Africa’s largest oil producer, yet the paradox endures: immense wealth alongside persistent poverty. The Niger Delta continues to bear the scars of extraction, polluted waters, devastated farmlands, and communities demanding justice.

Britain’s legacy is evident in the infrastructure of extraction and the contracts that still favor multinational corporations. The Soviet legacy is audible in the voices of activists, scholars, and unionists who continue to demand that oil serve the people, not foreign masters.

The story of Nigeria’s oil is not just about geology; it is about geopolitics, ideology, and memory. Britain’s grip ensured that oil wealth flowed outward. The Soviet shadow ensured that Nigerians would never stop questioning why.

Together, these legacies remind us that the struggle over resources is also a struggle over narrative: who tells the story of oil, and whose voices are heard in its telling.

As we close this series, one truth remains: black gold and red shadows still shape Nigeria’s present, and they will continue to shape its future until sovereignty is not just political, but also economic and cultural.

So when an American President says he will invade Nigeria to protect Christians from being ethnically cleansed by the Muslims, know what the American business interests are really after is “black gold,” “Nigerian Tea,” and they will kill the Muslims and the Christians to get their western hands on it.

Although the Nigerians were complicit in the Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade, blood is thicker than mud; it’s a family affair. Keep U. S. boots off Nigerian soil.

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Harold Michael Harvey Sharing His Wisdom!

Folks, I have never been so proud of this friend and author! In a short period of time, I have received answers for so many questions that have been floating around in my mind... If you can't also think the same, start over and reread, emphasizing only my italics spotlights of what struck me as answers... Yes, they include history that had never been taught in context...

Yes, they certainly put a slant on the world-wide events that continue to today--the only difference, perhaps, is there being more billionaires backing the greed that goes with authoritarian leaders. Indeed there is an intriguing dance that is still being played, mostly by governments and large corporations...

But, is it enough to now understand and know the answers? No, I don't think so... One thing that has helped... The greedy chose the wrong person to lead the United States at this time. We KNOW he is not capable of Conceiving all that is being done. Yet it continues to happen...

In allowing, yes, allowing a Supreme Court to go unchallenged after seeing what we've seen, it is an obvious assumption--a logical awareness...
That NONE of those in our government can now be Trusted. Sure there are a few, but they have no power behind them...that's our fault.

Additionally, allowing an element of religion to become so entrenched was clearly NOT following the Words of God... In each country who has chosen the symbolic Barabbas over God's son, NOTHING has been resolved by His Death!

NOT IF THE UNITED STATES CONTINUES TO GO BACKWARD UNDER A PUPPET TO MONEIED EVIL!

Millions of God's children are being  Sacrificed to Greed-- Human Greed... Not fictional characters like devils and demons and whatever comes into the minds of those who place money over people...
It continues...

Was THE DEATH OF God's Son Not Sufficient for Some? No, it seems it wasn't...

Lord, you paid with your life,
Yet Barabbas' followers still live
Father, Forgive Us!
And, thank you for Blessing Harold Michael Harvey
and others like Him who Know You Well!
Let more and more turn to the Great I AM
and find His Truth and Love
the One and Only Answer...

Matthew 19:23-26 American Standard Version (ASV)And Jesus said unto his disciples, Verily I say unto you, It is hard for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven. And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God.

God is NOT RELIGION!
FORGET ABOUT A RELIGION CATEGORY
TO BE YOUR CULT AS IT NOW IS CLEAR!
DO NOT ALLOW THOSE WHO CLAIM THIS OR THAT
TO SPEAK FOR HIM!
ASK HIM YOURSELF!

God loves ALL His Children
Red and yellow, black, brown and...white...
DO NOT EVEN THINK THAT ONE PERSON IS "MORE THAN" ANOTHER
Open your Mind to God - the Great I AM!

Across the World, Lord...find those who Know YOU
and let them Hear the words Michael Harvey gave to us today.Let us KNOW the truth He's provided
That the rich are not placing you as First
And millions die because of this infection of Greed
Wipe out the Golden Greed
and allow more to hear your Truth--
and most of all Know Your Love
Amen...

Let God's Love Within Each Who Hear
Speak of YOUR Truth of Love for All...
May His Spirit Guide You Today and Always...

God Calls each of us to Share His Love and Truth
Will you forget about those who do harm?

Start Each Day to Rid the World of Hate! Violence?!

Stop and think right now...WHAT WILL YOU DO TO RID THE WORLD OF GREED, HATE, AND VIOLENCE?!

Hey Michael...So happy to have shared your Words!
You Are Helping Rid the World of Greed, Hate and Violence! May God Continue to Bless You!

Folks, As you may know, I've been trying to do more than I have time for, but I felt it was important to do so. Now that the election is over, I need to step back and slow down a little. When I realized that I needed to find out what Michael had been writing, and I started reading, I knew I wanted to share the entire Research effort of this one important issue now being pulled into our daily lives by this administration. Without knowing the history, I was just guessing as to what DJT was "playing" at in South America and Africa... He just wants to continue to USE people to get richer and richer! As has leaders done in the past! No wonder there are so many wars! And, in my opinion, continuing the use of religion to justify violence is despicable! I can guarantee God did not have His Son die to have millions continue to do the same old fighting over and over for eternity! May you listen and learn from this background. As you know I had to pull this post back into draft form, so I hope those who already had pulled it up will chance it once again... I have worked for hours to redo--or try to--redo the formatting... and I did not stop and take any breaks... So if this doesn't come out, I again apologize but will need to rethink whether a corporation that creates something, but then does their own interpretation of what was written, especially by my contributors, can be continued... I'll be forced to stick to my own writing re books for the foreseeable future...and not waste the time of my contributors and readers... 

God Bless US ALL!

Gabby