Eamonn Fitzgerald's Rainy Day

We all have our weak spots. For the usually lucid and normally humane Christopher Hitchens it's the Pope. But even allowing for bitterness, there's no explaining this sentence: "No obituary about John Paul II, for example, will omit to mention that he exerted enormous force to change the politics of Poland. Well, good for him, I would say." That a writer of the ability of Hitchens can dismiss the noble struggle to free Eastern Europe from a vicious, tyrannical system that claimed countless lives with the trite "Well, good for him," is astonishing. The only explanation is that he was blind drunk when he wrote it.

What is it about the death of the Pope that prompts Terry Eagleton to plumb the depths of distaste and Christopher Hitchens to lose his sense of fairness? Is it an infantile need to insult? An unhealthy craving for the limelight at a time when it's shining on two million ordinary people preparing to stand for hours in Rome to express their respect for someone who inspired them, even if they didn't always agree with him. That's an expression of humanity. What Hitchens expresses in his "Papal Power" article in Slate is the opposite, and the pity is that it disfigures a piece of journalism that makes a very important point about the shameful tolerance by the Vatican of criminal priests and bishops who were involved in monstrous sex crimes against defenceless children.

If anyone reading this is socializing with Hitchens during the next fortnight, can you please make sure that he stops after one bottle? The fever will pass, but it may take longer for the bad taste in the mouth to disappear. Note: Jon Henke is on the case of the Necro-heckler.