Joseph Sobran, R.I.P.
We are sad to announce that Joe Sobran has passed away. In the comments attached to this post you will find some brief remembrances of our friend and colleague from the editors of, and contributors to, Chronicles. Grant to your servant, O Lord, blessed repose and eternal memory.
—The Editors
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May he rest in peace. I was a reader and great fan of his for decades. He wrote truth to power no matter how much it cost him personally.
May he rest in peace. He was a great writer and a fine man. May God bless him.
I agree, he bore a great personal price in just wanting to tell the truth, even sacrificing his job at National Review. A great, great loss.
It would take most of us great courage to be regular professional liar in order to keep a well paying job, and in that sense, Joe Sobran had something which human beings have and journalists do not.
Well, there goes another one. You younger fellows should take note of this. Life is a fleeting thing and these older fellows who have held the fort for years against great odds need to be known and immitated. I am attending the JRC meeting in South Carolina just so I can meet Clyde Wilson, which is a better reason than any particular truth that may be spoken about at the meeting. What made Joe Sobran special was his courage and his relentless lifetime effort to remain simple and honest about what he knew and didn't know as well as his virtues and vices. May he be granted eternal rest from his labors and enjoy the perpetual light who guided him.
A terrible loss for those of us who were always eager to gain wisdom from his insight and to draw strength from his courage. In many ways his was a sort of modern martyrdom to the current age. Eternal memory and blessed repose.
Joe Sobran was one of the giants of conservative writing. Where he could have made more money by trimming his views to meet the demands of the neoconservatives who hated him so, Mr. Sobran remained true to himself and told the truth as he saw it. He will be missed.
Whatever false rewards he spurned in this fallen world, he will be eternally rewarded in the true world to come. And that is how he lived.
A great and courageous man has died. Thankfully Buckley is not here to write on his passing. No need to lovingly stab someone in the back while expressing sympathy for him as he did to others so well.
I hope they keep his writings at Sobran.com. Much wisdom and insight for many people who still do not know of this great writer.
Rest in Peace Mr. Sobran.
When I started college (10 years ago now), I read NRO regularly. I had no idea that there were any conservative writers worth reading outside those pages, until David Frum wrote his infamous smear piece in 2003. (Thanks again Dave!) I began reading Sam Francis, Thomas Fleming and Joe Sobran, read all of their archived material and quickly dropped NRO for Chronicles. I will greatly miss Sobran's fluid style and incredible wit -- he was an outstanding writer and conservative mind.
Well, poor Bill Buckley is dead and there is no need to spit on his grave as he would have spat on mine. I do think he was suffering from mental degeneration the last 20 years of his life. This would excuse his excruciatingly bad prose though not his cowardice and treachery, but I prefer to remember the young WFB and reverse Antony's "The evil that men do lives after them, the good is oft interred with their bones."
Poor Joe, he took it all too seriously. He really believed that a writer could make a difference in this world, and that by speaking truth to power he could arrest the descent of the conservative movement into cynicism, Zionism, and imperialism. When the neoconservative lynch mob went after him--liars cannot bear the truth in any form--instead of meeting them with irony and humor, he became more serious and extreme in his criticisms of Israel and of American jewry. He should have treated these nonentities with the contempt they deserve. In the end he was ridden to death, like a noble stag pursued by a pack of hounds and jackals. Finally, here is a little ditty I dedicated to my friend Mel Bradford when he was attacked by the same people he had mistakenly thought to be his friends. The poem is not about Mel but is addressed to a posthumous biographer or obit writer.
This is what you've waited for all your life,
storing up every stupid thing he said.
You spent these thirty years sharpening the knife
you stuck into his back once he was dead.
What was it you were thinking all those years
you played the colleague, confidant, and friend?
He blurbed your books, true, put up with your sneers
at his success. You got him in the end,
Why? Was it that he was just too damn good?
Others you might have hoped to emulate,
by doing even half the work you could.
Being himself he made you second-rate.
We hate whom we have harmed, says Tacitus,
so you elucidate his path to hell.
A friendless and unransomed Theseus,
he stumbled on his love for you and fell.
I offer my condolences to Joseph Sobran's friends and colleagues at Chronicles. He was an excellent writer and I will miss his wit and insight. May he rest in peace and may God be with you in your time of loss.
"In the end he was ridden to death, like a noble stag pursued by a pack of hounds and jackals."
Dr. Fleming,
Thank you for the poem which says what is the hardest thing to say. At least when Joe Sobran and Mel Bradford were roaming the woods of conservative life (so lovely, dark and deep) there were still a few hounds and jackals in the woods hunting stags. The most any traditionalist or conservative could expect today is that ignoble death of being nibbled to death by ducks.
Very sad news. Sobran had to be the most literate, learned pundit to ever appear on the pages of any American newspaper. At least my memories of reading all those great columns will be evergreen.
The daughter of the founder of the Human Life Review pretends that Joe Sobran was incidental to the history of that pro-life journal. Well, this reader thought Sobran WAS the Human Life Review during its early years. Just a naive impression, no doubt to be corrected soon by Ms. McFadden.
May he rest in peace. A great mind, his wisdom was not lost on me.
All the best to his loved ones.
I had two brief contacts with Joe Sobran. The first was at National Review's New York office in 1982, the second at a Chronicles conference in 2007.
In 1982 he was on a man on a mission as I suppose he always was. When I tried to tell him how much I enjoyed his writing, he would have none of it. What he wanted to know was whose side I was on regarding the true author of Shakespeare's plays, a question I had long ago tabled, leaving it to scholars of the English sixteenth century to sought out. Joe seemed at once amused and disappointed in my response. He, of course, was in the Lord Oxford camp and couldn't comprehend why I wasn't as exercised over the question as he was. As I reflected upon our conversation afterward, I realized why I loved Joe's writing. It was always as passionate as his Lord Oxford allegiance. When he made up his mind on an issue, he simply couldn't be half-hearted in his support for what he took to be the right side. It was this decisiveness that imparted an almost preternatural clarity and energy to everything he wrote.
Had I my wits about me that day at National Review, I would have interrupted his historical musings and told him succinctly that I envied his style and had for years been trying, quite unsuccessfully, to imitate it. Unfortunately, I didn't.
My second meeting was not as invigorating as the first. Joe was succumbing to his diabetic ailment. Still, he was cheerful and, of course, amusing. We had only a few words and then he seemed to disappear into the crowded conference room. Many others wanted to talk to him. So, for a second time, I missed my chance to tell him of my envy and admiration. I regret that. Still, there's consolation in supposing he may know this now.
Thanks friends for expressing it so well.
A true prince has left us yesterday.
If I could hijack the thread for a moment, I have just learned that Joseph Sobran is the second outstanding Catholic of letters to die this month. Anne Muggeridge, author of "The Desolate City" died September 17. Both deserve Rosaries dedicated to their great souls.
Requiescat in pace...as an earlier writer wrote, "there goes another one"--another great writer and even greater man who demonstrated intelligence, grace and unimpeachable courage under fire. Russell Kirk (I was his assistant 1971-72), Mel Bradford, Sam Francis, Fritz Wilhelmsen, and now Joe Sobran: all were giants whom I knew personally and who shaped my thinking and the directions I took in life. I hope that through this sad event we can dedicate ourselves to keep alive their legacies and insights. Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine; et lux perpetua luceat eis.
Joe Sobran was one of the most gracious and literate men I have had the good fortune to know. He was also the best writer of any of the columnists, was a great conversationalist, and treated all he met with a kindness and generosity that was very much the mark of a Christian gentleman. The Joe Sobran I knew was not bitter or resentful. His recall of Shakespeare was nothing short of amazing, and served as a reminder of how far standards of literacy had fallen. If there was one word that best described him, it might be "civilized." May he rest in peace.
I am saddened to hear of Joe Sobran's passing. I usually agreed with him, but not always. However, his comments always did make me think. My memory could be wrong, but I seem to recall Joe saying that by the time of his death, he'd had a reconciliation with WFB.
Rest well, Joe
Joe Sobran was a great writer and a brave man. May the angels lead him into Paradise.
Courage of covictions was Joe Sobran's middle name. I am sure he is going to Heaven. But even if it should be Purgatory, I am sure that it contains some reserved purlieu, where he will be happy among likeminded people. There are too few of them left on this earth for God not to recognize them as deserving of special treatment.
Joe and I didn't agree on all particulars of policy. Who agrees with anybody else on everything anyway? I prefer drawing the veil over such differences of outlook as arise among people of essentially like conviction. What's to be remembered about Joe is 1) the strength of his convictions in the face of all attempts to pry him loose from them and 2) the rich and elegant style with which he framed his arguments, leavening them with erudition and good nature.
I foretold for Joe, when I first began to read him in NR, the kind of resplendent future he never attained for one reason or another. So what if he never attained it? Who is to say that in his own way Joe didn't do precisely that for which God had fitted and formed him? He was a lovely, learned, gracious, and wonderfully talented man whose life and death remind me how great are the burdens the best of us bear at the best of times, and how no one (I trust) is reproached at the throne of glory for doing the most, and the best, one can.
I'd been reading Joe Sobran for years before I met him at a Randolph Club luncheon in Washington, D.C.
What struck me immediately is that he was a perfect gentlemen. He did not presume, in this age of familiarity, to be familiar. When he shook, my hand, he addressed me as Mr. Kirkwood.
I've never forgotten that.
At one of the very first Rockford Institute programs I attended, Joe Sobran utterly entranced me with his praise of Switzerland for its neutrality during World War II--indeed, for all small nations that resist the clarion calls to arms sounded by big, coercive nations. That spoke to me and yet speaks to me.
Joe Sobran's was a brave, serious, and profoundly witty voice for the Truth. I didn't know the man nearly as well as would have liked to, but his voice I shall never forget.
I was a long-time subsciber to Joe Sobran's newsletter and read it from first page to last as soon as I received it. I had the honor of meeting Joe years ago at a meeting of the Washington, DC Chapter of the Council of Conservative Citizens, where I had also first met Sam Francis. God willing, they are together now and Joe may know the truth about Shakespeare. May his (and Sam's) memory be eternal.
I'll never forget a dinner with Joe and a handful of Chronicles editors here in Rockford, some ten years ago. It was at a little Sicilian pizza joint, and the conversation was mostly on politics. Joe didn't seem particularly interested, though he easily brought guffaws from all of us with a string of well-placed one-liners.
He asked me if I was a Catholic, and I told him I was a Lutheran, and his eyes lit up. "J.S. Bach!" he said. Joe loved the Cello Suites above all, and he began to ask me and Chilton which was our favorite. Before I had a chance to come up with an intelligent-sounding answer, he began to go through each one. Bach composed six cello suites, and they all have six movements. Joe knew every one by heart, and he began to sing or hum the themes of each. I don't remember which one he settled on, but this went on for some time. His face brightened more as he recalled each Allemande and Sarabande. Some of the themes brought him to the brink of tears.
There is a reason why Joe's prose and speech were so eloquent. Joe loved beauty. He didn't love politics, which is why he was so good at commenting on it. Many who did not know Joe, but who do love politics, are depositing little comments around the internet, hedging and talking about how Joe had talent but drew himself into conspiracies, including the one directed at himself. That's funny. I know one prominent neoconservative who has harassed me more than once about daring to associate with Joe, before wondering aloud just what his response to that should be. Joe was so obsessed with the Zionist conspiracy against him that he never thought to bring it up in conversation.
Beauty, Joe said, is why he came to the Church. In one of our conversations over the last year, when he was feeling a little better, he began talking about the Savior. "Isn't He beautiful?" he said.
A wonderful writer.
Requiescat in pace Mr. Sobran.
I too enjoyed and admired a great deal of what Mr. Sobran wrote, and am very sorry to hear of his death.
I recall C. Everett Koop ribbing Sobran over his cigars at an Americans United for Life gathering in Chicago in the mid-80s. I wish he hadn't lived his last years as if to vindicate those who labeled him antisemitic.
"You can't have moral authority unless you're willing to be unpopular. The word `jeremiad' recalls the prophet Jeremiah. His views were very unfashionable in his day. That's why we still remember him in our own day." Joseph Sobran, November 1989.
A truly cultured man.
I did not know, at all, Mr. Sobran. I really did not know of him. I encountered him through his articles which found their way to various Internet sites. I began to seek out his work in which I found an affirmation of things I hold dear. The same is true of Sam Francis and Mel Bradford: men whom I did not know; men of whom I knew little; but men whose writings affirmed the things which I hold dear. I simply praise our Creator that He has put these men among us, in this barren wasteland, as sources and agents of truth in a faithless age.
I became familiar with Mr Sobran's thought years ago, and it was a big influence. There are not many like him. The world has lost a true voice of courage and clarity.
It must be 30 years ago I first heard the saying, "Conservatives never pick up their wounded." Joe was the best example of that. If he had been a liberal and wrote something out of the mainstream and got fired, he would have ended up at some think or university, pampered with little work, adoring students and a decent medical plan. Look at Bill Ayers, an actual terrorist, who went on become a professor, now retired, at the University of Chicago College of Education, and to nurture our young president.
But as a conservative, Joe was dumped over the boat with an anchor tied around is neck. It's amazing he survived as long as he did. He was a treasure to all of us who continued to read him, in Chronicles, the Wanderer, his newsletter and elsewhere. Somebody should put all his archived writing on the Internet to instruct and delight future generations.
To those who have met or known Mr. Sobran, as quite a few posting here have: from one who hasn't had that privilege, and now never will in this world, I'd greatly appreciate any additional personal stories or anecdotes you might care to share.
I never knew him except through his writings, yet I feel like I've lost a favorite uncle or mentoring professor.
Word came in from a close personal friend last night prior to reading Chronicles about Joe. I first became aware of Joe watching CSPAN and his lecture was like a deep refreshing drink of cool water. I was a long time reader of his after that point and found his deep Catholicism a point of inspiration for me. Though Presbyterian I often referenced Joe on a number of matters.
Joe was a fine man that will be missed but when the banner falls slightly another will come forward to raise it high. Faith my friends, forward in faith.
McCallum
Whenever I was lucky enough to come across an article or essay written by Mr. Sobran I just couldn't wait to read what he had to say. His style and humor and insight were and will continue to be a great comfort to readers who find themselves anxiously trying to make sense of our darkening world. He certainly made his small corner shine. Peace be with him.
The New York Times book section has a long and pretty fair obituary of Joe up today. I guess he may have had a few admirers there.
He was a great guy. RIP
Thursday evening, after Wayne Allensworth alerted me to Joe's death, I made the mistake of searching the internet to see what others were saying. Within an hour, the bounds of acceptable discourse were clear. Any so-called conservative who wanted to make even a moderately laudatory comment about Joe's writing or speaking or even his affability felt compelled to (more than) balance it with a reference to Joe's supposed "inner darkness" or his "penchant for conspiracy theories" or, of course, his "antisemitism."
It's one thing for the New York Times to print what it printed this morning; no one expected any different (unless he expected worse). It's another thing for young writers who didn't live through the debate over the Gulf War or May 1989, much less the Reagan presidency, to lecture their elders about what Joe should or should not have said, or how he should or should not have reacted to the betrayal of a man whom he regarded almost as a father (and a man whose one moment of near-lucidity in that same obtuse, meandering piece was an attack on his own father as an antisemite).
But enough of that. People write what they think they have to write in order to keep their jobs. All the words that they spill electronically will one day be wiped clean, and what will remain is the Joe Sobran that some of us were blessed to know.
My friend and colleague Aaron Wolf mentioned our dinner with Joe a decade ago here in Rockford. What I remember even more vividly is the ride back from Chicago earlier that evening, after I had picked up Chilton and Joe and a few others. The surprising thing is that we ever got into the van. Chilton and Joe (who, if I recall correctly, hadn't seen each other in some time) slipped immediately into the kind of conversation that one finds among the closest of friends. I had no desire to interrupt them, but I needn't have worried. When I finally did, the conversation paused only for a moment, before beginning again in earnest in the van.
I had a hell of a time keeping my eyes on the road, as I listened to their conversation range freely from music to movies to Shakespeare to Waugh, before finally settling on a great shared interest: the writings of P.G. Wodehouse. Anyone who knew Joe has heard him quote passages of Shakespeare at great length; fewer knew that he had the same command of Wodehouse, whom he regarded as almost an equal to the Bard (even when Wodehouse wrote under his own name).
I never had an encounter with Joe that was anything less than memorable. While I had been reading Joe in National Review, the Human Life Review, and the Wanderer since the mid-80's (and in his syndicated column a few years before that), I first met him in Washington, D.C., a month or three before the December 30, 1991, issue of National Review (the last issue I ever purchased) appeared. Over the next two decades, our paths would cross in the damnedest places, including one day in the Northern Virginia suburb of Shirlington, where Joe was intently browsing the junk table in a warehouse store. And by "junk," I mean junk: These weren't closeout items to which he was giving his undivided attention, but toasters without heating elements, coffeemakers with cracked water reservoirs, waffle irons with no tops. After my friend Matt Carr and I chatted with Joe for ten or fifteen minutes, Joe turned his attention back to the treasure trove in front of him. He was still rummaging through the pile when we left the store.
Every time I ran into Joe, including (or perhaps especially) when he was the featured speaker or the guest of honor at some event, he always seemed to appear out of nowhere, on the edge of the conversation, on the outside looking in, as if he, along with everyone else, was waiting for the honored guest to arrive.
And in a way, of course, he was. On Thursday, September 30, at 3 P.M., his long wait was over, and Joe met the Guest face to face. And those of us who knew him have as much confidence as anyone can have that, at the final judgment, Joe will be numbered among the sheep.
You Chronicles writers sure know how to remember a friend and also how to treat one. I wish it were so elsewhere but at other sites such as American Conservative it is not the same.
Shame on those that can't stop worrying about their status and jobs to remember a friend or colleague honorably.
Mr. Sobran's Notes for the Reactionary of Tomorrow is brilliant. Its deep scepticism toward the political process, written during the heady days of the Reagan Revolution, was prophetic. That article alone will outlive anything written by the hollow men over at National Review. I'm glad Mr. Sobran lived long enough to see the moral and intellectual collapse of neoconservatism, and helped point the way to an authentic conservatism that will outlive the stupid chatter of 21st Century America.
I've met very few literary geniuses in my life, but Joseph Sobran was one whom I did get to meet. Everybody has a favorite Sobran quote or two, but some of my favorites aren't widely cited. Here is one:
"Nothing creates more awkwardness than saying things people can't afford to admit they agree with. Disagreement is manageable. It's agreement that wreaks havoc. If people disagree, they'll debate you. If they secretly agree with something, but are furious with you for saying it, then they'll try to shut you up by any means necessary. As Tom Stoppard puts it, 'I agree with every word you say, but I will fight to the death against your right to say it'."
Back in 1996, as a University of California at Davis student participating in my school's Washington Center program for one quarter, I had the wonderful opportunity to attend the John Randolph Club meeting held in Arlington, Virginia. At the meeting, Mr. Chilton Williamson was so kind as to introduce me to his good friend, Mr. Joseph Sobran. I will never forget how kind Mr. Sobran was to me at that brief introduction. Most people of his stature would not have given a little college student like me the time of day and would probably have looked the other way while pretending to be interested. Not Mr. Sobran. He was genuinely interested in who I was and which school I attended. Something so simple meant a lot to me and it all makes sense now knowing what a true humble Catholic he was. I am so fortunate to have had the privilege to hear his talk at the conference and to meet him. My hope is that the reason God took him from this world early is because He believed that his job here was done and to give him his eternal reward for being such a militant soldier of Christ, thereby ending his suffering, all the sooner. Thank you Chronicles, and especially Mr. Williamson, for giving me such great memories that year.
Writing this is not easy. I inevitably compare my efforts with those of Joseph Sobran's, and there really is no comparison. I have enjoyed his columns in a variety of venues since at least the 1970s. Articles, columns, and books seemed to march effortlessly out of his fingertips. He always had just the right quotes at hand to buttress his points. His words were always in the correct places, and his many insights stimulated meditations, further research, and admiration among his readers.
I had the pleasure of meeting him at a number of Rockford Institute functions, and he was always the perfect gentleman. He also added considerably to the joys of the conferences. I will never forget his accusations of insensitivity and other heinous crimes allegedly committed by the Editors of Chronicles Magazine at a roast during a JRC meeting in Rockford. After masterfully making the accusations, he tearfully recanted all of it. I was watching the hotel staff who were standing there spellbound, and who were enjoying the show as much as the attendees.
His columns were instrumental in bringing me into the Christian Faith, and for that I owe him a considerable debt of gratitude.
Like so many others here, I was saddened by the attacks on him, after his passing, at other websites. This is especially true of the American Conservative. This was not unexpected, as most jackals and hyenas only have the courage to attack a lion once he is safely dead.
Joe Sobran deserved better in this life than he seemed to receive, and I surely hope that his reward in Heaven is great. May he rest in peace.
"You Chronicles writers sure know how to remember a friend and also how to treat one. I wish it were so elsewhere but at other sites such as American Conservative it is not the same."
Kids should act like kids and men should act like men. If the kids over at AMCON writing the long explanations about all the good that Joe could have done if he would have been more like them and less like Joe; if these youngsters ever fall in love or learn to suffer for something or someone outside their own god-like images, they too will learn how to praise their friends and love their enemies. In the meantime,let us simply thank God there is still at least one magazine that knows the difference.
Mr.Sobran was a most admirable man.
This world is so much poorer for the passing of Joe Sobran. What a great man and visionary, and true martyr for truth. May he rest in the eternal peace of Christ, Whom Joe loved so much.
Writing for Chronicles magazine has afforded me the opportunity to meet some of the great minds and writers of our time. Joe Sobran was one of these. His rapier wit, perspicacious insight, and masterful knowledge of all things historical and literary was something to behold. It could also be intimidating and humbling. I had to debate him at a John Randolph Club conference. May he rest in peace.