A second excavation from our archives today, and another article by Christopher
Hitchens. It is, we now know, the last he would ever write for us: a Diary column dispatched from the States earlier this year on the occasion of Osama Bin Laden’s death.
I abhor the idea of taking a mobile-phone call at the dinner table but my friend Douglas Brinkley, eminent historian and editor (of Ronald Reagan and Hunter Thompson alike) has three small children and when his wife calls he rightly answers. So on Sunday night in Houston, Texas, at the home of the bountiful Michael and Nina Zilkha, we got an early notice that the President would soon be on the air. I have lived in Washington long enough to know that presidents do not break into weekend TV to bring bad news: only to react to very bad news, or to claim credit for something worthwhile. I can therefore claim to have guessed right away that either Osama bin Laden was in custody, or had achieved his goal of martyrdom.
I remained deep in the heart of Texas for the next two days, and didn’t come across any gung-ho celebrations.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in