Zohran Mamdami is a splendid example of the professional revolutionary: someone who has studied “the workers” with the same hands-on familiarity that I have with moon rocks. Only by accident has he wandered into a for-profit business enterprise. How wealth is created remains, to him, one of capitalism’s mysteries. It ranks somewhere between “why do investors need returns?” and “why do businesses need customers?”
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Instead, Mamdami has spent his life among the upper reaches of the credentialed intelligentsia, that class of people who conflate “capitalist exploitation of the masses” with offering someone a job. In his circle, politics is a sacred calling. Referring to them as activists misses the point. They are secular monks armed with the confidence that the arc of the moral universe bends towards justice, i.e. social justice.
Those in his party, the Democratic Socialists of America, lead similarly cloistered lives. Over the last few decades, universities have produced a bumper crop of these people—graduates of disciplines in which they are trained to identify systems of oppression but not much else.
Unable to find satisfying roles in the productive economy, many drift naturally toward organizing, agitation, and political theater. It is the perfect habitat: with no customers to satisfy—just meetings, manifestos, and the eternal promise that the revolution will begin as soon as someone passes around the sign-up sheet.
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They also have an unhealthy obsession with my property, continually pondering how they can get their hands on it, presumably, to give it to some deserving person of color. However, they are just going to have to get in line behind my ex-wives.
Going forward, I will be referring to Mamdami as Zohran, the Magnificent. It has a nice ring to it. All that he needs is a cape, wand, and top hat and he can perform for us the magic of getting something for nothing — it never loses its charm.
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