What noble thoughts of addressing the plight of the marginalized begin as — whether class-based as communism or identity-based as “wokism” — and what they gradually devolve into are two very separate things.
Communism, in its inception, also emerged as a sincere and compassionate response to the suffering of the marginalized and the exploited, in that case the working class (who ironically happen to be today’s villains abandoned by the Democrats in the US providing they’re the “wrong” identity).
Communism sought to dismantle entrenched systems of inequality, offering the promise of dignity, fairness, and collective well-being to those who had long been overlooked by the machinery of capitalism.
At its core, it championed the idea of a society where wealth and opportunity would no longer be monopolized by a privileged few, but instead shared equitably among all.
Yet, as history unfolded, this noble vision became tragically distorted. What began as an emancipatory ideal devolved into an oppressive orthodoxy, intolerant of dissent and fearful of deviation. Differing opinions were no longer seen as contributions to collective progress but as dangerous subversions, to be silenced or eradicated.
Borders became walls, not only to keep supposed enemies out, but to prevent disillusioned citizens from leaving, often at the risk of their lives. Political opponents and those arbitrarily labeled as “class enemies”—the bourgeoisie, intellectuals, or anyone perceived as insufficiently loyal—were persecuted, imprisoned, or erased from public life.
My own grandfather, who happened to own a tiny general store type of small business in the center of Bratislava was branded a “capitalist pig,” had all of his possessions stolen from him by the state, and was sent to a work camp in the East for “re-educational” purposes.
In a bitter irony, the movement that once aimed to liberate the masses began to foster a culture of paranoia and performative allegiance. Citizens vied to outdo one another in demonstrations of ideological purity, sometimes stooping to denounce and report neighbors, friends, or even family members over minor acts of nonconformity—a holiday celebration, a private opinion, an innocent gesture. The humanism that once lay at communism’s heart was eclipsed by rigid dogma and coercion, leaving behind a hollow shell of the original promise.
The tragedy of communism lies not solely in its failure, but in how far it strayed from the very compassion and justice it originally set out to achieve.
Much like the early promise of communism, the modern movement centered on identity-based justice has devolved into a hollow performance—where the focus has shifted from lifting up the disadvantaged to crafting elaborate displays of moral purity.
Genuine advocacy eclipsed by a culture more concerned with signaling one’s own ideological correctness than with enacting tangible improvements in the lives of the underprivileged.
When the discourse becomes fixated on attacking opponents, punishing perceived transgressions (“hate speech”), or engaging in public rituals of self-flagellation, it risks replicating the very dynamics of exclusion and intolerance it seeks to dismantle.
The energy once directed toward solidarity and systemic change becomes dissipated in competitive displays of virtue or relentless policing of language and thought (“cancel culture”).
At which point one couldn’t be blamed if they began to question whether all of the leftist ideologies were inherently flawed, utopian and ultimately destined to fail given the constraints of the human nature that is tasked with implementing them.
The lesson history offers is sobering: any movement, no matter how well-intentioned, can be hollowed out by dogmatism and performative fervor if it loses touch with its foundational commitment—to help, to heal, and to humanize.
