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WSWS : News
& Analysis : North
America : Clinton
Impeachment
Journalist who turned in Clinton aide
Scoundrel time redux: Christopher Hitchens as a social type
By David Walsh
13 February 1999
These are politically instructive times, and that perhaps has
its own objective significance. At historical turning points a
variety of pretensions and guises fall away. Individuals, as well
as social forces, are obliged to declare who and what they are.
The ongoing crisis in Washington--with its dual conspiracies,
the right-wing Republican effort at a political coup d'état,
the attempt by the White House and the Democrats to cover up this
conspiracy--has demonstrated the enormous gap that separates the
political and media establishment from the mass of the American
people. The illness afflicting bourgeois democratic institutions
has reached an advanced stage, far more advanced than is understood
by wide layers of the population.
Over the course of the past 13 months left-liberal and radical
circles have demonstrated that they function largely within the
orbit of the political establishment. One would be hard-pressed
to name a single organization or publication within this milieu
that has developed or even set out to develop an independent analysis
of the forces at work in the Clinton-Starr crisis. In differing
fashions they have each lined up with one or another faction of
the ruling class.
The case of Christopher Hitchens is not a unique one, although
it is admittedly extreme. Hitchens is the British-born radical
journalist who signed an affidavit for House prosecutors February
5 alleging that Clinton aide Sidney Blumenthal had provided him
with information last March disparaging Monica Lewinsky. Hitchens
asserts that Blumenthal told him over lunch that Lewinsky was
a "stalker" and that the president was a "victim"
of the young woman. During his questioning by prosecutors earlier
in the week Blumenthal had acknowledged that Clinton described
Lewinsky in that manner, but denied being the conduit of that
story to the media. Shortly after the release of Blumenthal's
videotaped testimony, House Republican prosecutors released Hitchens'
affidavit.
A neat trap, except that nothing in Hitchens' affidavit contradicts
Blumenthal's testimony. The latter told the House prosecutors
he had repeated the story to friends and family. He can hardly
have been attempting to plant the story with Hitchens, a long-time
friend and a well-known Clinton opponent. Moreover, journalist
Joe Conason has reported finding some 430 articles containing
the words "Lewinsky" and "stalker" that predate
the Blumenthal-Hitchens lunch date. From the point of view of
nailing Blumenthal on a perjury charge, the whole business is
ludicrous, typical of the heavy-handed operations mounted by the
cabal of right-wingers behind the attempt to oust Clinton. The
methods employed against Blumenthal, including the criminalization
of private conversations and the use of informers, come straight
out of Senator Joseph McCarthy's book.
Hitchens has floated various justifications for his turning
stool pigeon. Asked by CNN's Judy Woodruff, "Why did you
decide to come forward now?" the journalist responded, "Well,
I didn't decide to go forward. I was approached by the House Judiciary
Committee." This answer says a great deal.
First of all, it omits what Hitchens himself has admitted,
the fact that he raised the issue of his conversation with
Blumenthal to Republicans. He acknowledges, in the Nation,
that in the course of preparing an article, "I had a number
of conversations with staffers at various House committees. One
of them evidently called the House Judiciary Committee, which
contacted me on Friday, February 5." Asked by Jeff Greenfield
on CNN, "Why did you decide to go ahead and answer--and issue
this affidavit rather than simply saying: I refuse to answer,"
Hitchens hemmed and hawed, claiming that the individual he was
talking to might have been aware of the story anyway, so that
it would have been "idle to say I don't know what you're
talking about." If prosecutors had known about it, why hadn't
they questioned him before, particularly in the light of their
zeal to find a charge to hang on Blumenthal?
Hitchens supplemented his explanation with this comment: "We
are on day whatever it is of an impeachment trial of the president
for some pretty serious offenses, and it seemed to me that I would
be in a position of possibly withholding evidence if that was
true. Also, what I knew revolted me [i.e., Clinton's alleged attempt
to smear Lewinsky]."
According to those in the know, Hitchens is extremely bitter
about the failure of the effort to remove Clinton. Here was an
opportunity for him, with the additional appeal of another opportunity
for self-aggrandizement, to make a last-ditch effort to bolster
the Republican case.
In this light, his willingness to collaborate with the ultra-right
takes on the character of open and eager cooperation. Of course,
Hitchens wants to have it both ways. They asked him a question--what
was he to do? Even to Greenfield it was apparent that all Hitchens
had to do was say, "It's none of your business," and
hang up the telephone. His instinctive response, however, was
to accede to the demands of the Republican prosecutors.
Cementing a political alliance with the extreme right, on the
one hand; spinelessness, on the other--this is what Hitchens'
action amounted to, although it's unclear in which precise proportions.
Most interesting is what the incident reveals about Hitchens
and the circles in which he travels. The journalist, who came
to the US in 1980, has made a name for himself, in countless publications,
as something of an "iconoclast." One needs an Oscar
Wilde to provide the appropriate definition for that grossly misused
term. Hitchens has taken on Mother Theresa and Princess Diana.
He has criticized the US bombing of Iraq. He is an opponent of
the death penalty. He takes positions, in other words, that draw
attention to himself, allow him to stand out in a crowd, but don't
threaten his social position or standing. To get on in the world
it helps sometimes to raise a few eyebrows. In some circles, a
British accent, a little sauciness (but nothing too profound)
will do the trick.
Hitchens' affidavit created a controversy. But the reaction,
on the whole, from his colleagues in liberal and media circles
has been remarkably muted.
The editors of the Nation, the weekly for which Hitchens
has written a column for more than a decade, feebly criticized
him for his action. "The moral issues involved in Hitchens'
actions are clear: We believe there is a journalistic (and ethical)
presumption against using private conversations with friends for
a public purpose without first obtaining permission; and against
a reporter cooperating with, and thus helping to legitimize, a
reckless Congressional prosecutor (in advance of receiving a subpoena,
no less)." Does this rise to the level of a slap on the wrist?
Katha Pollitt, associate editor of the publication, devotes her
column to a more substantial attack, raising the issue of McCarthyism,
but it comes across as a piece of relatively friendly advice from
one colleague to another.
Fellow Nation columnist Alexander Cockburn, another
officially anointed nonconformist, has denounced Hitchens as a
Judas, but this may fall somewhere under the heading of over-compensation.
Cockburn, a pro-Stalinist radical, and Hitchens, a left-liberal,
have found themselves on the same side of the barricades in supporting
the impeachment drive and ridiculing the notion that it has anything
to do with a right-wing conspiracy. Now that Hitchens has followed
the logic of their argument to its conclusion, and joined forces
with Starr and the House Republicans, Cockburn draws back. No
one, however, should forget his repugnant article in the Wall
Street Journal, the house-organ of semi-fascist Clinton haters,
some months ago ("The Left Has Forgotten How to Enjoy a Good
Scandal") in which he suggested that radicals who are hesitant
"to join in the fun on the Lewinsky scandal ... should learn
from ordinary Americans who ... have been enjoying the sex scandal,
without taking it too seriously."
A survey conducted by Salon among left-liberal and media
personalities produced a mixed response. A few supported Hitchens,
more criticized him, and a number were too cynical to express
an opinion. (Lewis Lapham, editor of Harper's, for example,
observed: "Maybe if I were Sally Quinn, I'd know whether
to discuss this subject before the soup, with asparagus or before
the sorbet.")
At any rate, it's clear that Hitchens will not suffer for his
action. The sales of his new book on Clinton, due out in April,
will not be hurt by the publicity. A Washington Post profile
of Hitchens noted that the inhabitants of his exclusive world
of journalists and politicians "attack one another all the
time, and then sit down and laugh about it over a drink or three."
It has become obvious over the course of the past year that
the decisive control of the political parties, the state apparatus
and the media resides in the hands of a small number of wealthy,
reactionary individuals, intimately linked by a variety of social,
professional and personal networks. Remarkably, the world Hitchens
belongs to, of journalists and bureaucrats, is depicted in much
the same terms: tight-knit, incestuous, prosperous. It's worth
citing a few of these accounts.
Lloyd Grove in the February 8 Washington Post describes
these circles as forming "an elite subset of Washington society--the
crowd of journalists, intellectuals, authors and policymakers,
mostly in their thirties and forties, who regularly dine together
and dine out on each other." In Salon, James Poniewozik
refers to "a claustrophobic media-government sewing circle
whose interconnections would put the [right-winger Richard Mellon]
Scaife network to shame--an inbred nightmare community where every
pseudopod of the elite-opinion amoeba dines, drinks, goes to bed
and marries with another." Peter Carlson, also in the Post,
depicts "a rarefied world where the top pols and bureaucrats
sup with the media and literary elite at exclusive dinner parties.
It's a cozy little club of confidential sources and off-the-record
confidences, and both Hitchens and Blumenthal are members."
In his profile, Carlson has Hitchens desperate to catch a plane
"so he can get to Elaine's, the famous Manhattan literary
watering hole, where he's supposed to have dinner with Graydon
Carter, his editor at Vanity Fair magazine. And he'd like
to call ahead so Vanity Fair can send a limo to pick him
up at the airport."
Some scenes speak for themselves. But then one comes across
Hitchens' claim that he is an "extreme leftist" and
the obvious question arises: what does "leftism" mean
to Hitchens, to Cockburn, to those at the Nation, the Village
Voice, Salon and to many others? It seems largely devoid
of content. If it means anything, it is generally associated with
feminism, gay rights, black nationalism, ecology. This is a "leftism"
that, a priori, has no association with the needs and concerns
of the broad masses of the population. Hitchens and his circles
are nearly as removed from the lives and problems of ordinary
Americans as are Bill Clinton, Kenneth Starr and Trent Lott.
How else can one explain Hitchens' position on the drive to
remove Clinton? His visceral personal hatred of the current president,
despite its "left" components, has nothing in common
with socialist opposition. His railing about Clinton's "trashing"
of women, including Lewinsky, is nearly demented. He is a disappointed
and bitter liberal, a "libertarian," in his own words,
willing now to make common cause with fascistic elements.
Individuals like Hitchens, more than anything else, are mesmerized
by the apparent strength of American imperialism. What they don't
see--in their smugness and comfort--is any social force capable
of conducting a successful struggle against the existing order.
A mention of the working class would simply evoke a sneer. They
believe deeply in the permanence of the system that they pretend
to criticize. Behind the nonconformism is a deep conformism. They
long for acceptance. As Hitchens told the Washington Post,
"The fact is: It's true what they say about the United States.
It is the land of opportunity."
The McCarthy era produced more than its share of stool pigeons
and scoundrels. They played a filthy and destructive role. The
lessons of their conduct should be burned into the consciousness
of anyone concerned with the fate of society. Now Hitchens has
turned informer the first time someone tapped him on the shoulder.
He belongs to a social layer without principles, except the defense
of its privileges, and without perspective, except the preservation
of its social status. It's scoundrel time again.
In Latin America, they tell of a radical who dabbled in revolutionary
politics. One day he was arrested by the secret police. His conduct
earned him the alias of the Man of a Thousand Blows--one to start
him talking, nine hundred and ninety-nine to shut him up.
See Also:
Nation
columnist Christopher Hitchens fingers Clinton aide
[9 February 1999]
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