Event Review - Christopher Hitchens at the 6th & I Street Synagogue

Christopher Hitchens at a synagogue? A place of worship? Isn't he, like, an atheist?

These, or some variant of each pitched in an annoyingly high register, were the questions heard from almost every person finding out for the first time that the DC-based writer, critic and commentator was making one of his book tour stops at the downtown temple this past sunday. This Q&A session, hosted by the Center for Inquiry (CFI), was the most-awaited event for atheists, secularists and humanists in recent memory.

Given that Hitchens is partly Jewish (an ethnic identity inherited from his mother) and that Judaism makes no offers of divine reward to those outside its flock for conscription to the faith (it is the least proselytizing of all religions), the setting seemed oddly appropriate. Hitchens and the compere of the evening, author and speaker Austin Dacey, sit upon raised stage flanked by two golden, glowing menorahs. Inscribed on the wall behind them, on either side of a large Star of David, are the words 'Remember Ye the Law of Moses' and 'Faith in God is Happiness'. That the man of the hour has spent much of his life in active opposition to both commandments raises a wry smile on the lips of observers that cannot be suppressed.

The stage itself is bare except for two chairs and a small table on which the two men perch bottles of water. It is cool inside the synagogue, a welcome relief from the intense heat outside made doubly oppressive by the natural Washington DC humidity, which runs without effort into the 90th percentile.

A full house of more than 900 attendees waits with barely-concealed excitement for proceedings to begin. All ages, sexes and races are represented and they chatter animatedly with one another. Most sit forward in their seats, alert and attentive, and bright spots of canary yellow dot the crowd. These eye-catching punctuations are in fact Hitchen's autobiography, 'Hitch-22', and they are variously clutched to the chest of their owner, open and being studied, or placed in the racks attached to the back of each pew, taking the place of the Torahs that would usually occupy those spaces. The pews are all full and the session begins at last, with each attendee listening as intently as believers would to a sermon.

The session covers a wide variety of topics starting with Hitchens's upbringing in mid-20th Century England in an education system that attempted to instill in him the sensibilities of a colonial system in steep and rapid decline, if not one already extinct. From there, on a course admirably steered by Dacey, Hitchens spoke of the "mandated bisexuality" of boarding school attendance, the subtle and powerful influence of women on his life, his thoughts on Marx and Trotsky, his relationship with Martin Amis (including a particularly distasteful and unsexy morning spent in a New York bordello), and the pain and sadness of the loss of his mother.

The event was enlightening in that it revealed Hitchen's for what he really is: a thinker. His life has been about so much more than a revolt against religious influence on public life; he has been a foreign correspondent, a teacher, and a revolutionary of sorts, having spent time in Cuba in the weeks after Che Guevara's death. As a longtime admirer I have thought it somewhat unfortunate that the release and runaway success of 'god Is Not Great' has dominated the Hitchens narrative, obscuring almost all the other work he has done. Dacey, however, avoided this trap and deftly captained the conversation, revealing through his questions much of what would have otherwise remained unexplored.

In one of the more touching moments, Hitchens spoke of his father, whom he admired for his bravery and sense of duty, and noted that his father's poor treatment at the hands of the military establishment after many years of service ignited an anti-militarist streak in his younger self, pushing him towards "the Left". Recounting a memorable anecdote not included in his book but one that seemed to underscore the central contradiction of the evening, Hitchens recalled getting up very early one day to join his father to eat breakfast, something his father had always done alone. The younger Hitchens rose as dawn was breaking and padded downstairs. Upon his entering the kitchen, Hitchens Sr. looked up in surprise from behind his newspaper. "Christ!" the old man exclaimed. "It'll be family prayers next."

For more information about the Center for Inquiry, its work and forthcoming events, visit their website.