Harvey
Silverglate's Introduction of Dorothy
Rabinowitz

Photo copyright Elsa
Dorfman
FIRE’s anniversary dinner, Saturday, Nov 5,
2005
In an era increasingly marked by easy classification of
people into distinct categories, we come to appreciate more and more
those among us who defy being readily pigeon-holed. Among those
resistant to convenient and conventional labels, there is an even
smaller number about whom we can say that they are one of a kind. We
are privileged to have such a person deliver the keynote address
this evening. And I have the privilege of introducing our speaker,
who has become a much-valued friend of mine ever since Alan Kors
introduced us during the infamous “water buffalo” imbroglio, in
which she played a major role for liberty, as she does in so many
controversies.
Dorothy Rabinowitz joined The Wall Street Journal in
1990 and has been on its editorial board since 1996. She writes the
“Critic at Large” feature as well as periodic hard-hitting pieces
for the paper’s editorial page. Dorothy won the 2001 Pulitzer Prize
in commentary for a series she wrote in 2000 on American culture and
society, including several pieces in an area in which she has gained
an international reputation – her intrepid and powerful pieces on
the American tragedy involving false allegations of and prosecutions
for sexual abuse of young children in day care centers around the
nation. It is no exaggeration to say that, but for Dorothy’s work,
dozens of palpably innocent men and women would still be in prison
for crimes that not only did they not commit, but that never even
occurred.
Before joining the Journal, Dorothy was a
freelance writer, syndicated columnist, and commentator on
New
York’s WWOR-TV
News. She is the author of New Lives, a book about
survivors of death camps, published in 1976 by Alfred Knopf; Home Life, a book about old
age, published by Macmillan in 1970; and, most recently, No Crueler Tyrannies:
Accusation, False Witness, and Other Terrors of Our Times,
published by The Free Press in 2003.
Dorothy has earned numerous accolades and awards in addition
to her Pulitzer. She is probably the only one at the law-and-order
oriented Wall Street
Journal to be the recipient, in 1997, of the National
Association of Criminal Defense Lawyer’s annual Champion of Justice
Award. In 1993 she won the Distinguished Writing Award from the
American Society of Newspaper Editors for commentary. And, perhaps
most impressively, three of Dorothy’s most memorable columns about
the insanities and inanities on college campuses today have won an
honored place on the FIRE
Website.
Dorothy was raised in the Corona section of Queens, earned
her bachelor’s degree from Queens College, and did postgraduate work
at New York University, while teaching in the English departments at
NYU and the Pratt Institute. She is a life-long New Yorker and
resides in Manhattan
with her gorgeous Tibetan Terrier, Simon, to whom I occasionally
deliver organic dog biscuits, knowing of the Wall Street Journal’s
skepticism toward the whole organic farming movement. Simon, utterly
apolitical, is reported to much enjoy these occasional natural
treats.
But this resume, partial yet impressive as it is, does not
tell the whole story of this unique person. She is adored and loved,
and also feared and hated, by a variety of people on both the right
and the left of the political spectrum. In thinking about the people
who adore Dorothy – and they are legion – it seems to me that they
have one set of traits in common – they abhor hypocrisy, lies, moral
cowardice, knee-jerk responses to difficult questions, blind
adherence to the politically correct ideologies of the day, the
Orwellian destruction and abuses of the English language, and myriad
idiocies and cruelties of one kind or another. Those who loathe and
fear Dorothy have good reason to be worried. Armed with a searing
wit and devastating insights into morality, culture, and politics,
Dorothy is able to expose evil of every variety with a single swipe
of her powerful pen.
Don’t just take my word for it. Don Hewitt, executive
producer of 60 Minutes,
has said: “Dorothy is my favorite kind of right-winger. She is right
without being righteous.” New
York Times columnist Frank Rich has said of Dorothy: “She’s a
lively, funny, incisive person, which is obviously a quality of her
writing as well.” Her current editor, Paul Gigot, has said: “What
she did with the abuse cases was the sort of thing that all of us
originally got into this business to do. She got people out of jail.
That’s worth a lot more than a Pulitzer Prize.” And, indeed, it
is.
It has been reported that Dorothy, in fourth grade, hit a boy
in the head with an apple, and once impressed her classmates by
picking up a live, wriggling snake. For these feats of valor, a
classmate told Dorothy that she was “daring and everyone else is
shrinking.” This is doubtless part of the secret of her success: she
is daring when others are shrinking. And when she writes, it
matters. Her friend Norman Podhoretz, former editor of Commentary, described
Dorothy’s prose in this manner: “She writes one sentence and the
whole world comes.” One of her landmark pieces was published before
she got to the Journal.
Harper’s Magazine ran her
article detailing the outrageous abuses in New
Jersey’s prosecution of Margaret Kelly
Michaels, convicted of 115 counts of sexually abusing 20
nursery-school children in 1988 and sentenced to 47 years. After
several rejections, Lewis Lapham published the piece in Harper’s, and Michaels went
free. “It came out,” Lapham has said, “and reopened the case and got
Kelly Michaels out of jail. That’s one of the best things that Harper’s Magazine has ever
done.” And when Dorothy
turned her attention to a similar case in
Massachusetts,
involving the wrongful conviction and incarceration of three members
of the Violet Amirault family – mother, son, and daughter – the case
began to fall apart and roiled the
Massachusetts
judiciary and prosecutorial establishment. The Amiraults started to
gain their release, one by one, under Dorothy’s persistent assaults
in her Journal column.
Dorothy, a bulldog much like Winston Churchill, whom she much
admires, ain’t no quitter.
Dorothy was a favorite of Robert Bartley, the legendary
editor of the Journal’s
editorial page until his untimely
death in 2003. About Bartley, Dorothy has said: “He was the sanest,
most eccentrically wonderful creature, and everyone knew that about
him.” Well, I had the high honor to have spoken to Bartley on one
occasion when he waxed poetic about Dorothy, who was one of his
favorites. Dorothy’s description of Bob can just as easily and
accurately be said of her.
And so I now have the high honor and
privilege of introducing
FIRE
’s stalwart ally, my friend, and,
truly, “the sanest, most eccentrically wonderful creature,” Dorothy
Rabinowitz.