Christmas Stories ... 2

Yesterday I mused upon the nature of commitment, as revealed by our Prime Minister.  Another recent story though shines a very different light upon the same theme.  Christopher Hitchens was a man of bold and outspoken commitment.  A more than able writer and journalist, his renown spread more because of his passion than, even, his eloquence.  He attacked many targets in his time but was consistently scathing towards those who held their position, any position, lightly.  Not for him the PR savvy, focus-group aware opinions that seek chiefly to hitch a ride with a prevailing wind. 

In recent years Hitchens became most well known as one of the ‘Four Horsemen’ of the so-called ’New Atheism’, together with Dan Dennett, Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins.  The least academic, but most florid of writers, in the group his book ‘God is not Great’ pulled no punches in describing religion, all religion, as, among other things, ‘violent, irrational, intolerant, racist, tribal, bigoted, ignorant, contemptuous, coercive and sectarian.’  Less concerned than some others with the detail of the philosophical arguments, he piled into the dark side of belief with anecdote, story and account, telling tales of, well religion giving rise to violence, irrationality, intolerance, racism etc etc. The upshot, for this reader at least, was to affirm with him my disbelief in these gods afresh. Critics too, notably the equally acerbic, and atheistic, Terry Eagleton, noted a somewhat glaring lack of substance.  No matter, Hitchens’s ongoing reputation as an iconoclast was further cemented.  One consequence of the books success was a publicity tour, which came to include a series of debates.  To his credit Hitchens never shied away from any opponent in these encounters but his most common adversary was Doug Wilson, as a consequence, his obituary was one of the most moving and reflective of all.      

Somewhat ironically, in this supposedly rational age, Hitchens’s approach seems to be gaining currency.  The obituaries were full of glowing admiration for his bombastic style and ‘take no prisoners’ attitude, despite his admitted insensitivity, crassness and even cruelty – including following the death of some of his ‘victims’.  If you’re eloquent enough, witty enough, can drink enough and, crucially it seems, have been to Oxford, the prizes still go to those who shout the loudest.  I’ve always been slightly confused by the attraction of this sort of controversialism in journalism, and comedy too.  It’s not difficult to be shocking and outrageous, it would only take seconds for any of us to think of any number of things which, if expressed, would fit the bill and make a headline.  Is ignoring the barrier, however constructed, that prevents us, usually, from spilling out every passing thought a sign of bravery, cleverness or wit?  Is a degree of self-control inevitably to be thought of as a repressive conservatism?     

So many difficult questions, ultimately, in the end, I’m with ‘Hitch’, what matters most when answering them is not reputation or vested interest, sales figures or popularity, wit or eloquence but truth – in life, and in death, it sets you free don’t you know.