By Ian Buruma
Revelations from the files of the convicted sex offender and prolific social networker Jeffrey Epstein keep coming, drip by drip. With every story of well-connected politicians, bankers, billionaires, journalists, academics, and royals socializing with Epstein to raise money, receive stock-market tips, take part in criminal sex acts, exchange gossip, or sometimes just mingle with other famous people, public rage against the world’s elites is further inflamed.
There is much to be enraged about, of course. Trafficking underage girls for sex is a horrific crime, and the willingness of so many powerful people to overlook or condone Epstein’s predatory behaviour is disgraceful. But our collective obsession with Epstein’s perverse deeds risks triggering a moral panic. Hatred of elites can be easily manipulated to undesirable ends, with disastrous and wide-ranging consequences. And the daily dose of allegations, accusations, and scurrilous gossip surrounding the Epstein files is a massive distraction from the political crises undermining US democracy.
The nearest historical precedent to the Epstein affair was more provincial, but no less toxic. In 1934, a swindler named Alexandre Stavisky was the perpetrator of a gigantic financial scam in France. Stavisky made millions by selling bonds that proved to be worthless.
One reason Stavisky got away with his fraudulent practices was that he knew all the right people in all the right places. Like Epstein, he cultivated friendly relationships with politicians, bankers, and other powerful figures. Like Epstein, when he was finally arrested, he supposedly committed suicide. Many people suspected foul play. And, like Epstein, Stavisky also happened to be Jewish.
Popular anger at the French elites of the 1930s was swiftly exploited by fascistic, antisemitic groups such as the Action Française and the Croix-de-Feu to bring down the democratic Third Republic. The illiberal right revived a vile old prejudice about depraved Jews destroying public morals by infiltrating the establishment. Violent demonstrations were held in front of the Chamber of Deputies. Two liberal prime ministers were forced to resign. Demands were made to replace the republic with a strongman.
That didn’t happen until Nazi Germany invaded France in 1940 and Marshal Philippe Pétain took charge of the puppet Vichy government. But the response to the Stavisky affair was typical of a more general mood in Europe at the time, when distrust and sometimes hatred of the established elites, often accused of being influenced by nefarious Jewish interests, paved the way to fascism.
We are living in a similarly febrile environment today. US President Donald Trump and far-right European leaders are riding a wave of anti-elite sentiment, which is also often deeply illiberal. It doesn’t take much these days to stoke popular hostility to the press, universities, financiers, or politicians. Since most people in Epstein’s social circle came from those worlds, and many of them happen to be Jewish as well, the anti-elite mood is likely to darken even further.
Some people might argue that the elites implicated in the Epstein files betrayed the public trust and have taken their privileges for granted for too long. But this response can easily go too far: Epstein’s social network, though wide, was hardly representative of the entire elite of the United States, or anywhere else. And the institutions of a liberal democracy depend on elites to function. The populace does not rule directly; elected representatives stand for the interests of their constituents.
Other pillars of democracy also rely on elites. Independent journalism requires seasoned reporters and editors. Without a strong foundation of experience and expertise – the two essential qualities of any elite – universities, banks, hospitals, and arts institutions would collapse.
Of course, trust must be earned. Powerful people should be held to account. Since the temptations that come with power can be hard to resist, there will always be transgressions, and people in high places are often good at hiding their wrongdoing and that of their friends. But that is no reason to denounce all elites in principle.
The distrust of elites is partly the result of technology. Who needs editors if anyone can voice their opinions online? Why should doctors be trusted if symptoms can be Googled? And the highly specialized work of academics has become so divorced from the lives of most citizens that fewer and fewer people see the need for universities at all.
But when demagogues deliberately whip up distrust of expertise, higher education, and political representation in a bid to grab power for themselves, liberal democracy is under serious threat.
The egregious sexual crimes against young women at the heart of the Epstein affair risk being overshadowed by conspiracy theories that add to that threat. You don’t have to search long on X or other social-media platforms to find the cesspool of antisemitism that has collected around the Epstein files.
If this unleashes a popular cry for a strongman to sweep away the corruption of elite governance – a desire voiced as far back as ancient Rome – the result would likely be a political disaster. Trump ran for the presidency by promising to “drain the swamp.” That this same man was a close friend of Epstein’s for many years is one of history’s grim ironies.
The writer is the author of numerous books, including Year Zero: A History of 1945 (Penguin Books, 2014), The Collaborators: Three Stories of Deception and Survival in World War II (Penguin Press, 2023), and, most recently, Spinoza: Freedom’s Messiah.
