Nothing reminds us of the historic links between England and […]

 Hitch 22, by Christopher Hitchens; Allen & Unwin, 2010, 352 pages, $35.

I came late to the strange charms of Christopher Hitchens, being drawn to his performance in the lead-up to the second Iraq War as curmudgeon-in-chief, sourly defending the importance of taking military action. He was learned, persuasive, and revelled in his persona as pantomime villain on mostly late-night television debate. In this role, Hitchens would prove to be, next to British Prime Minister Tony Blair, probably the most persuasive force in support of the conflict, at a time when it appeared far from inevitable.

Hitchens had, of course, by this stage completed his transformation from petition-waving Trotskyite student to neo-conservative warrior of the Right. The story of this evolution is the spine that runs through Hitchens’s autobiography Hitch 22. The book has been keenly awaited, not least because of the raging culture war that has arisen over Hitchens himself. This debate, reminiscent of Australia’s own concerning Malcolm Fraser, is about just who, or what, has changed. Has the Left moved away from Hitchens or has Hitchens moved from the Left? More critically, what is the place of the Left in the post-Cold War world, particularly in the face of the threat posed by radical Islam? Hitchens himself embodies these debates and contradictions and, true to form, clearly revels in being placed at the centre of it all.