Article by Jim Goad.
It’s no coincidence that both Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels were born into cozy bourgeois households nestled high above the dirty claws of proletarian squalor. Neither is it a coincidence that the loudest voices squalling these days against “the rich” and “the powerful” are themselves comically wealthy and unduly influential. It’s not coincidental at all. But it’s intensely weird.
One of the modern era’s biggest Big Lies—the size of Rosie O’Donnell if she were a Macy’s Parade blimp or Oprah Winfrey’s buttocks if they were carved into Mount Rushmore—is that the political “right” represents only the rich, whereas the “left” protects the interests of the poor, the whole poor, and nothing but the poor. The most relentless proponents of this myth, at least from my relentless observations, are extremely well-to-do leftists.
Being very rich and pretending you speak for the very poor—all while either openly mocking or silently ignoring everyone in between—is a tradition that spans continents and centuries. Just as I presume every culture on Earth has a euphemism for “blowjob,” it seems as if they all have terms to describe what are known in America as “limousine liberals,” or as Tom Wolfe famously dubbed them, the purveyors of “radical chic.” In England such types are known as the “chattering classes,” “parlor pinks,” and “champagne socialists” —a term the Swiss also use. The Irish label them “smoked-salmon socialists.” Swedes tag them as the “red wine left.” Aussies call them “chardonnay socialists,” “latte liberals,” and “salon communists.” France, Peru, and Portugal all have terms that translate to “caviar left.” Poles refer to them as “coffee shop revolutionaries.” The Japanese equivalent is Botchan Sayoku, which translates to something along the lines of “stridently leftist schmuck from well-heeled family who is tragically clueless regarding how the world actually operates.”