Britain: Return of the Toffs; Is class dead in modern Britain? Tory leader David Cameron and his Old Etonians hope so.

Byline: William Underhill

David Cameron, leader of the Conservative Party, washes dishes in the family kitchen. Laundry dries in the background, and a child calls out for attention. As he looks into the camera, introducing his new video blog, the message couldn't be plainer: Cameron is just another modern dad, familiar with the pesky everyday concerns of ordinary Brits.

Churchillian it isn't. But Cameron has a problem with the past, his party's and his own. His Tories are on a roll; one poll last week gave them a clear seven-point lead over Labour. But the party is still struggling to recast itself not merely as a natural home for the rich and privileged, but also for more modern voters interested in social conscience as well as tax cuts. To do that, Cameron needs all the street cred that his media spinmeisters can muster. Yet they can't quite conceal an awkward fact: in an era when class is no longer supposed to matter, when advancement and social position are presumably based on merit, Cameron and his shadow government look like throwbacks to a bygone era.

Start with the boss himself: a stockbroker's son with a [pounds sterling]1.1 million home in Kensington, he's a product of Eton, the grandest of all British private schools. Three of his cabinet ministers are also Old Etonians, as are at least 15 other top members of his team, from his election-campaign chief to his senior speechwriter. Britain may indeed be shaking off its old obsession with class--but such a toff-heavy squad hardly reflects the national profile. "Eton personifies world-class privilege," says left-wing Labour M.P. Dennis Skinner. "The Tories have gone back to the snobs."

Fair or not, the charge has a superficial merit. Eton (fees: [pounds sterling]23,000 a year) stands out as a training ground of a governing elite. Founded in 1440, it has produced no fewer than 19 of Britain's prime ministers, the last in the 1960s. And many of Cameron's inner circle are members of strictly all-male London clubs. Like his father, he belongs to White's, the oldest and snootiest of all, where members include the shadow chancellor, George Osborne (not an Etonian, but heir to a hereditary title as well as a furnishings fortune).

For a party still reinventing itself, some fear that impression could be damaging. "I don't think it's wise to reconstruct this kind of rule by cabal," says Old Etonian Nick Fraser, author of a recent book on the school. "After two or three years in government, people may turn around and say your government is stuffed with toffs." Cameron's oh-so-modern commitment to the environment and public services may be heartfelt. But there he was last week, resisting conservative allies ...