The grim news out of America – expulsions from the Tennessee General Assembly, criminal indictments of a former American president, massacres of children in their schools, and so on – poses the question of why Americans haven’t found a ready scapegoat for their troubles. Mr Soros is often said to be today’s Emmanuel Goldstein. But there’s something not quite right about the fit.
A better question is why the most obvious candidate for that role, at least for the American Left, is largely left alone. Rather than taking his share of blame as the malefactor of today’s prosecutorial, conspiratorial, and just plain loony public culture, Rupert Murdoch enjoys sweet gossip about his latest wedding having been called off.
A story about his second wife gives a small clue:
In the afternoon at half past four… Anna Murdoch came to tea. She is very affectionate and rather beautiful although her legs are not her best feature…. Anna told me that she and Rupert went to Aspinall’s for twenty minutes after dinner last night. He immediately won £3,000, said that was enough and went home. He is the most amazingly lucky person I have ever known. — Woodrow Wyatt (1987)