When a criminal is sentenced for crimes against humanity, one tends to imagine the monstrous mass murderers, war criminals, torturers, slavers, rapists, robbers and persecutors from the most violent chapters of human history.
Yet it is the treacherous frauds and liars, not the cruelest killers, who accompany Satan himself in the lowest depths of hell. It is unfortunate that I, at present, cannot inflict an appropriate punishment against the traitors of man and virtue while they exist among us, but I nevertheless find relief in contemplating their terrible, eternal fate.
Who are the traitors in our midst? Who is the Judas Iscariot of our current era? Which members of society are destined for that lowest circle of Inferno?
Consider the plutocrats, the class of centimillionaires and billionaires who reign above states and sovereigns alike. Their wealth alone — or how they came to possess it — is a matter of contention beyond my judgement at the moment, but what concerns me is the method by which this capital is mobilized and for what nefarious purposes it has been expended.
First, we charge them with betraying the people through the chronic corruption of our representative offices. The institutions dedicated to the perseverance and protection of the public have been hollowed out by hordes of lobbyists serving on behalf of the plutocracy. The state is a temple, our public servants its pillars; the ruins of antiquity prove that when enough columns crumble, pediments are doomed to collapse. Every forsaken politician that defects to the ranks of the plutocracy has an effect equivalent to smashing a sledgehammer against the vital supports of our political system.
The degradation of government is pursued, not for any inherent ideological reason, but because it profits those who seek to protect their enterprises. After all, the only threat to absolute monopoly and unlimited exploitation is a strong state. The plutocracy is strengthened by extreme inequality and survives through the endless perpetuation of wage-slavery, aggressive usury and the suppression of small businesses.
However, the former two types of tyranny would not be possible without their third and final sin against humanity, their worst deed of all: socially subverting the people by projecting the false idolization of material through various channels of propaganda. By manipulating the masses into a predominantly horizontal plane of thought, the plutocracy can maneuver an artificial popular culture to strictly control the spread of significant thought.
It is no wonder that, even in high society, art and culture are commercialized as yet another method to maintain the inequitable status quo. No longer can beauty simply be realized as pure creation, but instead is synthesized and marketed by middleman influencers to prolong the cycle of consumeristic ideals. Nothing meaningful can be done to harm the plutocrats if those situated to act are pacified with the latest supercar, wristwatch, necktie, handbag or pseudo-exclusive novelty.
In this way, the lesser capitalists become a buffer for — rather than a front against — the larger and more malevolent magnates. In an unspoken, unholy social contract enforced not by Saint George, but by Saint Laurent, and sanctioned not in the name of Christ, but Christian Dior, a class of socialites becomes entrapped acolytes of stratification.
Nobody better exemplifies this archetype than Rebecca Ma, a flagrant social media influencer and self-branded California socialite in possession of unquantifiable wealth. Perhaps it is not her individual character, but her domination of “RichTok” that has earned her such notoriety. Her behavior, no matter how inflammatory or disconnected from the struggle of the American nation, is repeatedly emulated by thousands of other influencers and socialites who seek the same validation and status she has attained online.
Incredibly, Ma performs under a paradoxical persona that seeks to position her as far superior to ordinary people while simultaneously engaging in superficial philanthropic efforts and offering generic financial advice, as if she were a savior figure to working citizens.
Her petty acts of charity are almost exclusively executed publicly to gain favor from viewers and potential followers, however there is no doubt that any private donations she makes also serve primarily as tax deductions. I would not be surprised if these condescending displays of generosity are actually therapeutic sessions to regain some small daily satisfaction and build a better self-image.
Moreover, this class of lesser capitalists burdens itself with performative attempts of protests in opposition to popular topics like injustice and immorality, practically as a compulsory procedure to retain relatability and public approval. Yet their counterfeit criticisms dissolve under scrutiny and reveal that every syllable said for or against one matter or another is a confession.
Private runway show protests designed by allegedly anti-establishment fashion boutiques like Matieres Fecales — which exist at the very center of the luxury industry establishment — expose an overwhelming air of inauthenticity, especially when coupled with scripted but deceptively candid moments of controversy on Saturday Night Live and the annual political proclamations from behind the podium of the Grammy Awards.
Even if they can successfully delude themselves into believing they are truly respectable, albeit privileged, people, a brief observation of their lifestyle betrays that perception. As the United States economy sits on the brink of recession and millions of Americans struggle to afford fundamental necessities, the rich are feeding their personal pets caviar and edible gold-encrusted Wagyu filets. It is an unprecedented absurdity. Even the infamous Marie Antoinette was caring enough to have attempted to reduce her expenditures as the French nation endured its debts.
No longer. What the American nation deserves today is an elite that embodies the ideals of the Noblesse Oblige of days past, not the cruelty of the detached plutocracy at present. We the people have no taste for champagne activism — our hunger can only be satiated by blood.
Aidan Zamany is a political science sophomore and opinion writer for The Battalion.
