Denial [Movie Tie-in]

by Deborah E. Lipstadt

  As he had done with the elevator “bottleneck,” the holes, and so much else, Robert Jan had demonstrated that Irving’s were imaginative suppositions with little—if any—evidence to sustain them. I wondered, however, how this crisp analytical forensic exchange sounded to people in the gallery whose relatives had been piled on that elevator.

  TEN

  AN AMERICAN PROFESSOR

  A few months before the trial, James called to tell me that a psychology professor from California’s Long Beach State University, Kevin MacDonald, was scheduled to voluntarily take the stand—no subpoena necessary—on Irving’s behalf. “Who’s he?” I asked. James was disappointed: “We were hoping you would know him. He’s supposedly a specialist on antisemitism. He wrote a trilogy on Jews and Judaism.” I could not fathom how a specialist on antisemitism would voluntarily testify on Irving’s behalf, unless, I thought—facetiously—somehow he’s for it. Completely perplexed, I headed for the Emory library to retrieve his books.

  HIGH-CLASS ANTISEMITISM

  MacDonald had a Ph.D. in biobehavioral sciences from the University of Connecticut and described himself as an evolutionary psychologist. He was the secretary-archivist and a member of the Executive Council of the Human Behavior and Evolution Society, the main academic organization of evolutionary psychologists. He edited the organization’s newsletter and had served as program chair of its annual meetings.1

  I sat on a bench under a large tree outside my office perusing his books. MacDonald considered Jews a genetically distinct group, who conspired in virtually everything they did to gain political and economic advantage over non-Jews. “Judaism developed a conscious program of eugenics to improve scholarly ability . . . with the result that Ashkenazi Jewish IQ is at least one standard deviation above the white mean.”2 According to MacDonald, Jews opposed intermarriage because they wanted to ensure that their group remained closed to penetration from gentile gene pools.3 MacDonald identified several “very influential intellectual and political movements [that] have been spearheaded by people who strongly identified as Jews.” These groups—which, according to MacDonald, included Boasian anthropology, psychoanalysis, the Frankfurt School of Social Research, and New York intellectuals—worked, often covertly, to alter Western societies in order to ensure Jewish continuity.4 As I worked my way through these books, I periodically had to remind myself I was not reading The Protocols of the Elders of Zion.

  In order to restore “parity” between Jews and other ethnic groups and to counter the Jewish advantage in the possession of wealth, MacDonald predicted that eventually universities and other institutions would discriminate against Jews in admissions and that governments would impose special taxation on Jews.5

  Addressing the topic of antisemitism, MacDonald posited that Jews, rather than being victims, in fact provoked it. As long as Jews refused to assimilate, non-Jews would react as any living thing would do when threatened: defend themselves.6 MacDonald believed that historians commonly “ignore[d], minimize[d], or rationalize[d]” Jews’ role in producing antisemitism. Jews were even responsible, in some measure, for Nazi antisemitism. MacDonald argued that it was “untenable” to portray the actions of the Nazis as completely independent of the behavior of Jews.7 In fact, he posited, Hitler and the Nazis emulated Judaism’s evolutionary group strategy. It became a “mirror image of Judaism, with its emphasis on creating a master race.”8

  MacDonald argued that when Jews appear to be divided about an issue, it’s a ploy in order to deceive non-Jews. (MacDonald had clearly never witnessed Jews fighting Jews. If he had, he would have known that these fights are very real.) When Jews repudiate their ethnicity, that too is a ploy. “The Jewish radical is invisible to the gentile as a Jew and thereby avoids antisemitism while at the same time covertly retaining his or her Jewish identity.”9 His ideas reminded me of a scene in the infamous 1938 Nazi propaganda film, Der ewige Jude (The Eternal Jew), in which a Jew’s beard, earlocks, caftan, and skullcap, are progressively removed until he becomes a relatively nondescript—he still has beady eyes and an oversized nose—man in a standard business suit, while the narrator says: “Hair [earlocks], beard, skullcap, and caftan make the Eastern Jew recognizable to all. If he appears without his trade marks, only the sharp-eyed can recognize his racial origins. . . . It is an intrinsic trait of the Jew that he always tries to hide his origins when he is among non-Jews.”10 These assimilated Jews were more dangerous because unsuspecting non-Jews could not protect themselves.

  I found it hard to fathom that this man had been teaching at an American university for over fifteen years and had published what could arguably be described as overt antisemitic tomes without anyone—his colleagues in particular—taking notice. In fact, not only had his colleagues not taken notice, his fellow evolutionary psychologists had elected him secretary of the association of evolutionary psychologists. I called Anthony, who had also read MacDonald’s work, and told him I considered it high-class antisemitism. Anthony responded quickly: “High-class?” At that point, overwhelmed by the myriad of details confronting me as I prepared to leave for England, I set MacDonald and his theories aside.

  SLATE ENTERS THE FRAY

  As MacDonald’s turn to testify approached, the Internet began to hum. In the last week of January, New York Times columnist Judith Shulevitz, having learned about MacDonald’s forthcoming testimony, published a series of provocative articles about him in Slate. She challenged his fellow evolutionary psychologists to explain how, given his views, they could have elected him secretary of their organization.11 Stung by Shulevitz’s critique, leaders of the organization protested that they had never published his articles in their peer-reviewed journal. Others posted searing critiques of his work.12 John Tooby, director of the Center of Evolutionary Biology at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and one of the founders of evolutionary psychology, declared that “MacDonald’s ideas—not just on Jews—violate fundamental principles of the field.” Evolutionary psychologists study the universal design of a species and not individual or intergroup genetic differences, as MacDonald did.13 Steven Pinker, a member of MIT’s Department of Brain and Cognitive Sciences and a well-respected experimental psychologist who has written about various aspects of language and mind, believed MacDonald’s work failed basic scientific credibility because he had neither tested alternative hypotheses nor utilized a control group, such as another minority ethnic group. Critics observed that MacDonald made sweeping pronouncements without the necessary expertise to do so. He had no training in rabbinic studies, but dismissed the Talmud as “unnecessary” because it fulfilled no “purely religious or practical need.” Though not a population geneticist, he reached sweeping conclusions about the Jewish gene pool. Though not an economist, he made pronouncements about Jews’ economic practices. Though not a political scientist, he analyzed Jews’ political influence.

  Pinker also found it striking that, whereas people are a composite of many identities, according to MacDonald, Jews identified only as Jews. This attribute, Pinker observed, made them unique from all other humans and was an ad hominem argument that stood outside the bonds of normal scientific discourse. To try to engage in this argument was, Pinker contended, an obvious waste of time. “MacDonald has already announced that I will reject his ideas because I am Jewish, so what’s the point of reacting to them?” Reminding me of my initial reaction to MacDonald, Tooby contended that his work constituted a “Protocols of Learned Elders Zion–like theory.” Pinker agreed: “MacDonald’s various theses . . . collectively add up to a consistently invidious portrayal of Jews, couched in value-laden, disparaging language. It is impossible to avoid the impression that this is not an ordinary scientific hypotheses.”14

  MacDonald was scheduled to take the stand on a Monday. Ken Stern, who had been coordinating conversations with John Tooby in California and with James and me in London, was bleary with exhaustion when I talked to him late Sunday night. He had taken to referring to MacDonald as “Old MacDon
ald,” because, he explained, his ideas belonged on the farm, not in the classroom. We had gathered extensive critiques of MacDonald’s work. We downloaded this material to Heather, who would organize it for Rampton’s use in court.15 It was far more than he needed for cross-examination, but I was glad Rampton would have the most compelling evidence in order to demonstrate that MacDonald’s theories relied on a coded discourse that was, in essence, antisemitic. When Rampton entered the courtroom on Monday morning, he was grumbling to himself about being inundated with mounds of vile material. Given his foul mood, it did not seem like an opportune moment to discuss “Old MacDonald” with him.

  Before MacDonald could take the stand, Judge Gray asked how MacDonald’s evidence was “really relevant to the issues I have to decide.” Irving insisted that MacDonald’s testimony would prove he had “been the victim of an international endeavour to destroy his legitimacy as an historian.” Gray cautioned him, “Remember the Defendant is Professor Lipstadt and, therefore, it is her activities . . . for which she can be held accountable.” Irving said he would prove that I had made myself “part of a broader endeavour.” Gray gave Irving an amber light to proceed. “Let us see how the evidence turns out.”16

  MacDonald, a tall, spindly man with an angular face, ascended the steps of the witness box. His tousled brown hair looked like it had not yet recovered from London’s winter wind. His dark suit, which seemed too large for his frame, hung awkwardly on him. After taking the oath, he settled into the chair, hunched his shoulders, fixed his gaze on the floor, and seemed—despite his height—to disappear into the box. Irving began by asking MacDonald to describe his work. He said he wrote about Judaism, which he described as a “group evolutionary strategy” and studied the tactics Jewish organizations use to combat views with which they disagree, “such as St Martin’s Press rescinding a publication of the Goebbels’ Diary.”* When MacDonald mentioned the St. Martin’s decision, Irving asked him to elaborate on the way the book was “suppressed . . . under pressure from the Jewish community.” Irving had barely finished his question when the Long Beach professor—sounding rather energized—interjected, “Yes, from the Anti-Defamation League.” Given Judge Gray’s warning to Irving that he had to demonstrate that I was directly involved in the St. Martin’s decision, this was not the most prudent reply. Judge Gray quickly made that point, cautioning Irving that this episode was only relevant if he could establish my link to the cancellation. Irving assured the court that he would demonstrate that St. Martin’s had “quoted the Second Defendant as an authority for their decision” and that this cancellation was “part of a group strategy.”

  Irving asked MacDonald whether he had seen anything in the evidence that led him to believe that “the Second Defendant had made herself a part of this endeavour?” MacDonald took out the Washington Post article on the St. Martin’s imbroglio. It proved, MacDonald concluded, that I “was literally part of the pressure on St. Martin’s.” I smiled in anticipation of how Rampton would handle the cross-examination of MacDonald. He would certainly ask him to demonstrate how my response to a reporter’s query constituted proof that I was part of an organized effort to silence Irving.

  A STUDENT’S PAPER AND A PROFESSOR’S SUGGESTION

  Irving seemed to have forgotten his promise to prove that St. Martin’s had quoted me when they decided to cancel the contract. Instead he handed MacDonald a student paper on David Irving. The paper, by a Canadian student, reviewed Irving’s evolution as a Holocaust denier. Not a particularly distinguished product, it had been sent to me after the publication of my book by the Canadian representative of the Simon Wiesenthal Center, who warned me in a cover letter that it contained “comments that neither you or I would use.” The student, ignoring the notion of free speech, had argued that Irving “should not be allowed to disseminate his message of hate as freely in other public forums” and that the “ultimate response was to cease providing him with a forum to convey his skewed version of history. . . .”17 I found the student’s extreme suggestions fanciful and was inclined to toss the paper. However, I decided to file it on the outside chance that some of Irving’s quotes, which the student had unearthed, might someday prove useful. I had forgotten about it until the research assistant helping me gather materials for my discovery found it in my files. As soon as Irving raised the topic, I scribbled a note to Rampton: “The paper was sent to me. Unsolicited. I had nothing to do with writing it. Gray should know that.” Rampton stretched out his arm in my direction, and motioned in a way that I understood to mean that I should calm down and not worry, he had it all under control. MacDonald was particularly exercised by the student’s attack on Irving’s legitimacy as a historian. Turning to Judge Gray, he complained that “despite the fact that he is regarded among historians as important . . . there are attempts to curtail his freedom of speech.” I found MacDonald’s use of the passive voice—“there are attempts”—telling. MacDonald had seamlessly moved from a student’s verbal hyperbole, which even the representative of an activist organization found extreme, to concluding that this paper constituted proof of secretive attempts to curtail Irving’s freedom of speech.

  Judge Gray asked MacDonald, “How does that establish that Professor Lipstadt is part of this conspiracy to discredit Mr Irving?” MacDonald responded, “The only linkage . . . is the Washington Post interview.” Judge Gray, in a slightly more insistent tone, asked again, “What has this [student paper] to do with the Washington Post?” Irving jumped to his witness’s defense: “My Lord, this document was from Professor Lipstadt’s own discovery.” Judge Gray pressed the California professor: “It is a document that she was sent, apparently unsolicited, by the Simon Wiesenthal organization. What does that prove against her?” The look on MacDonald’s face seemed to suggest he thought the answer was obvious. Shaking his head back and forth, he began with some hesitation: “Well, OK, this document—there is not . . .” Then he stopped, as if to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he said in a rush, “My impression was that David Irving has a general complaint about persecution by Jewish organizations and that is what I thought we were addressing here.” Gray leaned toward MacDonald, as if he was about to say something. Then, apparently deciding otherwise, he sat back and quietly said, “I see. Thank you.”18

  Next, Irving asked MacDonald about a letter Holocaust historian Yehuda Bauer, who had suggested all those years ago that I write a book about Holocaust deniers, sent to me after he read an early draft of Denying the Holocaust. I was expecting Irving to single it out. Two years earlier, when he found it in my discovery materials, he had posted it on his website. Anthony and James, livid at this breach of privilege—discovery materials were private until introduced into court—demanded that Irving remove it. Bauer praised the manuscript and then offered a number of suggestions for strengthening it. He suggested that I expand my discussion of Irving in order to make clear to readers that he was the mainstay of contemporary Holocaust denial in Western Europe. I thought Bauer’s suggestion valid and, in an effort to find a bit of additional material on Irving, contacted various archives and libraries. They sent me articles by and about Irving. I wove them into the manuscript.

  Judge Gray encouraged Irving. “This seems to me to be more relevant than the general sort of evidence that the Professor was giving earlier.” Distressed, I wrote Rampton another note. “It is standard operating procedure for scholars to circulate their manuscripts prior to publication. Bauer was hardly the only one who read and commented on it.” I knew I sounded defensive, but I hated that my actions were being painted as something sinister.

  Irving seemed energized by the judge’s comments. His voice grew louder as he reminded MacDonald that I had described him as “dangerous.” Glancing over his shoulder at the press gallery, he asked, “In what way am I dangerous . . . ? Am I the kind of person that they think I [sic] may place a bomb in their letter box or what kind of danger are they referring to?” I was struck by how Irving glided from what I had written in my bo
ok to what “they” thought. MacDonald did the same. “No, obviously, they view you as a danger because of your . . . writings. They think . . . that their version of events [should] be accepted as the truth and that the dissent from certain of these tenets should be viewed as beyond the pale of rational discussion.” Irving, looking satisfied, asked, “Finally, in order to pre-empt a question Mr Rampton may wish to ask, do you consider me to be an antisemite?” I was not surprised when MacDonald said, “I do not consider you to be an antisemite. I have had quite a few discussions with you now and you have almost never even mentioned Jews, and when you have, never in a general negative way.”19 As Irving was bringing his questions to an end, I saw that Rampton was hurriedly making some notes.

  RAMPTON’S RESPONSE

  I waited in anticipation—and admittedly some glee—for Rampton’s cross-examination. Surely, he would use his rapier-style wit to illustrate that MacDonald did not really grasp what the trial was about. Just as I was contemplating all this, Rampton leaned across his table. In his outstretched hand was the paper on which he had been making notes a few moments earlier. I took it and, after reading the few lines, felt the breath knocked out of me. “You will be very cross with me, but I do not plan to ask this witness any questions.” I felt blindsided. We had reams of material that I expected Rampton to use to lay waste to the professor’s poorly reasoned junk science. I expected him to use the opportunity to demonstrate how Irving and his witness lived in a conspiratorial universe. Compelled to remain silent, I could not make these points. I depended on him to speak for me.