The advice I've been giving to people all my life - that you may

In the voice of Christopher Hitchens we hear both fire and regret: “The advice I’ve been giving to people all my life—that you may not be interested in the dialectic but the dialectic is interested in you; you can’t give up politics, it won’t give you up—was the advice I should have been taking myself.” These words come from a man who lived within the furnace of debate, who wrestled with ideas until his last breath, and yet who confessed that even he, the great arguer, sometimes forgot the very lesson he taught. Here, Hitchens speaks like an ancient prophet warning his disciples: you may flee the battlefield of thought, you may avert your gaze from politics, but politics will not avert its gaze from you.

The dialectic, as the ancients knew it, is not simply debate, but the eternal clash of opposing truths, the ceaseless dialogue of thesis and antithesis, forever shaping the world into new syntheses. From Socrates in the marketplace to Marx in the revolutions of the nineteenth century, the dialectic has been understood as the process by which history unfolds, and by which men and women discover truth through conflict. Hitchens, standing in this tradition, reminded all who would listen that ignoring the dialectic does not stop it. It is like trying to stop the tide with your bare hands. Whether you attend to it or not, it comes for you.

Consider the tale of those in pre-war Europe who turned their eyes away from the rise of fascism. Many said, “This is politics, it does not concern me. I will tend to my family, my farm, my shop.” But the dialectic of the age—the clash between tyranny and freedom—did not pass them by. It entered their homes in the form of soldiers, ration books, and exile. By refusing to engage with politics, they did not escape it; they simply surrendered their voice within it. Hitchens’s words echo this truth: to forsake the struggle is not to be spared from it, but to be shaped by it without resistance.

The confession in his quote is equally powerful. He admits that he, who thundered so often about the necessity of engagement, sometimes forgot that rule for himself. This humility makes the statement not weaker, but stronger. It reveals that even the most passionate thinker can be wearied, even the fiercest warrior can wish for retreat. Yet the wisdom remains: whether weary or watchful, the forces of politics and history will claim us all.

The deeper meaning is this: that human beings are bound together in a web of power, law, and fate. To say, “I do not care for politics,” is like a fish saying, “I do not care for the sea.” One may choose not to swim against the currents, but one cannot choose to leave the waters. The dialectic is the movement of society itself—the endless clash of interests, ideas, and struggles—and every life, from the greatest ruler to the humblest laborer, is caught in its tides.

The lesson, O seeker, is stern but necessary. You must not abandon the realm of thought and struggle, for if you do, others will decide for you how you live, what you may speak, and what future your children inherit. To engage in politics is not only the duty of the statesman, but of every soul who desires freedom. Even silence is a choice, but it is the choice of surrender. Thus, Hitchens calls us: raise your voice, sharpen your reason, and do not shrink from the dialectic, for it is already reaching for you.

As for practical action: read, question, and speak. Do not leave politics to the ambitious or the corrupt; enter the conversation, even if with trembling steps. Learn from history, for it shows what happens when citizens withdraw. Defend truth in small matters, so that you may be ready in great ones. And above all, live awake. For though you may not be interested in the dialectic, the dialectic is most certainly interested in you.

Thus, let Hitchens’s words endure as both a warning and a torch. Politics will not release you; the dialectic will not forget you. Do not run from it, but meet it with courage, lest it shape your life without your consent. For to engage is to live as a free being; to abandon the struggle is to become the subject of another’s will.