This past June, on the day journalist Christopher Hitchens received the news that his latest book Hitch-22: A Memoir hit No. 7 on the New York Times bestsellers list, he also learned he was diagnosed with esophageal cancer.
As if this revelation was somehow expected, Hitchens opens the memoir with a chapter eerily entitled “Prologues with Premonitions,” stating it may seem “too soon” to write a memoir but it must not be left until “too late.” The prologue meditates on the condition of death and how one’s life ought to be measured in retrospect. Now that Hitchens know he has cancer, these dwellings on death have become the author’s imminent reality.
Hitchens, 61, is a British-born, now American, writer who has written political and literary commentary for over 35 years. Most recently he has become well known in the public mind for his piercing critique of religion in 2007’s God is not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything. Since its release, Hitchens has become an iconic figure in the grand cultural question on the existence of God.
With his formidable debating style he has gone into the intellectual ring against the faithful proponents of all stripes, trying to discredit their world-view. Hitchens does not merely dub himself an “atheist” but rather an “anti-theist,” which is part of his overall anti-totalitarian politics.
Besides engaging in debates, he has polemicized on many religious issues including the Danish Mohammed cartoons, the Iranian theocracy, Zionism and the Texas textbook revisionists. This past March he hired British international human rights lawyer Geoffrey Roberts to make a case against the Pope for the recent Catholic Church revelations of what Hitchens calls the “organized rape of children.” Such contrarian views inevitably lead to a variety of reactions from religious believers.
Since the news of his diagnosis there have been two general responses from the religious community. Many view him as an admirable adversary and are praying for his recovery and salvation. The other response has been less kind, telling Hitchens he has a spot reserved in hell.
This split in opinion is a usual outcome for the figure of Hitchens. He accomplishes what many good-hearted people stress when it comes to religion: the need to distinguish between tolerant moderates and fundamentalist bigots.
His two latest Vanity Fair pieces, entitled “The Topic of Cancer” and “Unanswerable Prayers” have been Hitchens’s self-reflection on his new illness. The former tries to examine death as objectively as possible while the latter pokes fun at the believers who established Sept. 20 as “Pray for Christopher Hitchens Day.” With his wry style, Hitchens sums up his attitude towards this: “I don’t mean to be churlish about any kind intentions, but when Sept. 20 comes, please do not trouble deaf heaven with your bootless cries. Unless, of course, it makes you feel better.”
In addition to the new memoir, the thought of Hitchens’s looming demise has made an assessment of his legacy a more pressing matter. The root of Hitchens’s anti-religious views involve his sharp break with contemporary left wing intellectuals after Sept. 11, 2001.
Hitchens sharply disagreed with the likes of Noam Chomsky, Norman Finkelstein and Tariq Ali on the correct American response to the terrorist attacks. Hitchens referred to the hijackers as “Fascism with an Islamic Face” and therefore supported the invasion of Afghanistan.
The rupture with his old political family became even deeper when he argued for the American overthrow of Saddam Hussein’s regime in 2003. For this he has been labelled a warmongering neo-con and American Empire apologist. Hitchens fired back by calling the anti-war left “moral relativists” who were gutless in bringing about Middle Eastern democracy. As these developments await their final verdict, so to will Hitchens’s decisions.
In the meantime Hitchens is still writing prolifically while enduring his bout with cancer. If he recovers, any discussion of a post-mortem legacy can be saved for later rather than sooner.