The Lion Roared

(or: Why is Al Sharpton following me?)

Christopher Hitchens debates the thesis of his new book, “God is Not Great” with Al Sharpton at the New York City Public Library

Last night I went to the New York City Public Library to see one of my favorite geopolitical writers present the arguments behind his brilliant new book, God is Not Great, or as we programmers like to call it: (Allah’u != ackbar). Among many other things for which I admire him there is his having played the role of Devil’s Advocate during the beatification hearings for Mother Theresa (or as he preferred to describe the task, serving “to represent the devil pro bono”).

Some personal back-story: I had actually purchased the entrance ticket back in February before I had even heard of the book, which was published this month. I thought it was just a refreshing change of pace for him to speak about a more ready-made “general-interest” topic than Jefferson, Orwell, or Cyprus and was curious how his laser-focused mind would handle it. Furthermore, at the time it was not billed as a debate, but merely implied a lecture/Q&A format, and certainly not a debate with Al Sharpton specifically (click for a photo truly horrific in every sense imaginable). I had reviewed the event web page a couple of days before the date in order to send it out to friends and encourage them to join me and discovered that the format had changed (or so it seemed to me; I tend to miss the obvious with ease). “Uh oh” was the best reaction I could come up with. (Wasn’t John Shelby Spong available?)

While I can’t be sure through what perverse talent-search process we ended up with Mr. Sharpton, I can certainly say that he came unprepared in the worst of ways and that his main strategy was to dishonestly re-frame Hitchens’ thesis in a way that was convenient to him in order to “win”; so much for unshakeable faith.

The thesis of the book can probably be summed up as follows: The instigation of belief in an all-powerful, all-castigating, all-judging supernatural being is, in itself, prejudicial to the good of mankind. We can say “in itself” because, in addition to what little practical or emotional good might come of it (and which could be gotten through other means) it is, as a result of human nature (which is, to uninvitedly paraphrase Hobbes, cruel, brutish, yet long on the manipulative arts), always guaranteed to be used as a means of controlling people and to justify behavior that they would otherwise find reprehensible. Hitchens gives several examples of this in the book, taken both from current events (e.g., suicide bombers, the cruel existence of Israel, the indulgence of child-molesting priests, the prohibition of simple prophylactics which prevent disease and the conception of unwanted-children and thus, ironically, reduce the need for abortions etc etc) and long-standing “cultural” traditions that are permitted and more often encouraged explicitly by scriptures of all major religions (e.g., both male and female circumcision, slavery, segregation, and everywhere, at all times, war).

Mr. Sharpton takes this clear-headed premise and insisted that “we are not here to debate scriptures; we are here to address the title of your book, ‘God is Not Great’. You are saying that people who misuse religion will do evil things; that is clear to me also, but it does not address the central issue of whether God does or does not exist, or whether he is or is not great.” (I have a bad habit of quoting such things from memory but in the interest of not waiting until the transcripts come out I have done my best to do Mr. Sharpton’s point justice; I will update with explicit corrections once we do have transcripts).

Hitchens, in an argument that either went completely over Mr. Sharpton’s head or was deliberately ignored (not once, but four times) explained that if one is to describe “God” as omniscient and omnipresent then unless one is God one can never know God; that God is outside the realm of what is knowable, thus (given the lack of evidence that is useful in ways other than presumptive in the putting-the-cart-before-the-horse sense) the question of God’s existence is not a tractable one and outside the scope of any intellectually honest conversation. But of course, this is the only argument to be found in Hitchens’ book which, as he admits himself, cannot be proven or disproven, by himself or anybody else, thus Shaprton chose to interpret the nature of the debate circumscribed within that area exclusively and smugly challenged Hitchens, over and over, to prove something that cannot be, and thus does not need to be, prove. *Yawn*.

Still, it was a satisfying evening with more than its share of interesting moments (quite a few actually illuminative regardless of opinion). Probably the one that will stick out in my memory of this was of the first person to the mic during the Q&A session. It was a short, roundish, middle-aged woman (which the Pythons might have described as an updated American version of their “pepperpot” character) whose haltingly, deliberately delivered (and clearly overly-rehearsed) contribution went something very much like this:

“Mr. Hitchens, what makes you think that average, normal Americans like myself are interested in the ramblings of a secular, superficial foreigner who goes out of his way to demonstrate how his knowledge of religion is shorter than his penis?”

... the dumbstruck silence was deafening as she, without waiting for a response, calmly walked back to her chair. Then the next person, without missing a beat, simply stepped up and asked the first actual question of the evening. I’m glad she was not even given the satisfaction of shock.

A few minutes and questions later, a man stood at the mic and said:

“Mr. Hitchens, I want to start by letting you know that I am also an atheist, but that I’m in the process of writing the opposite book you wrote. I am writing a book that, from the atheist’s perspective, seeks to defend and justify religion. Having said that, and with the fair assumption that 95% of people are religious and find value in it, and 5% of people are atheistic and find no such value, can you explain the rationale of engaging a point of view which would satisfy 5% of people and make 95% of people unhappy?”

Hitchens’ initial response was appropriately pithy, directed at no-one in particular: “...what an astonishingly stupid question..!”, for which he later on bothered to apologize (I imagine due to concern at being accused of impolite name-calling; he is, after all, British, even if of the more interestingly hot-headed sort). I myself went further than that in my own mind’s response to the question: “Because it happens to be true, you inexplicably literate pinhead!”

After the Q&A, there was the obligatory book-signing and queue-based kvetching with the author that goes along with it. I took the liberty of writing on the inside cover what is perhaps the most true and undeniable statement made on stage all evening, which happened to be spoken by Mr. Sharpton, and asked Hitchens if he would mind signing my copy of the book alongside that quote. He put on his glasses, saw what I had written, paused, and smiled at himself. “I like irony”, I said. “My pleasure”, was his response as he began to write.


...or, rather, scrawl; it wasn’t until the next day I had the time to look up his addition to Mr. Sharpton’s line and realized that “Ecrasez Ii’njam” [sic; see link ahead] was not the name of some obscure Albanian freethinker but rather a quote from Voltaire, which now happily graces my book. My thanks to him for directing me to it.




In closing, I found it satisfying that the event took place in the lower-level auditorium (the very belly, if you will) of the New York City Public Library, a treasury of knowledge that flies in the face of superstition, harmless or otherwise. Paul Holdengräber (yes, really), the director of public programs of this lecture/debate/etc series (enticingly named “Live From the NYPL”), introduced the evening by declaring that his job description was “to make the lions roar”, referring to the pair of leonine statues, nicknamed “Patience” and “Fortitude”, which flank the grand stairs in front of the building. Indeed, last night one of the two took a much-deserved vacation and allowed the other to roar mightily.

(the water glass out of which he drank
during the debate; it has been known
to cure lumbago in those who touch it)