Scapegoat [Hardcover]

In "Scapegoat," Andrea Dworkin comes clean. For the better part of her career, she has been dropping hints about the connections, or parallels, or metaphorical affinities between the Holocaust and violence against women. These hints have always had a meretricious quality in the absence of a detailed argument. "Scapegoat" comes as a true surprise. This book is not "Intercourse" plus the well-worn Holocaust analogy as an indicator of oppression: it is a serious monograph on the comparative lot of stateless peoples, including women. Dworkin's quotes from Jewish and non-Jewish writers are respectful and attentive, though self-indulgent in sheer number. Her analysis of Jewish religion and culture is critical but fair and reflective of great pride. The apocalyptic kitsch which the reader has a right to expect from Dworkin is less often on display here, and though men don't come off too well, there is relatively little time spent on deconstructions of "male" sexuality as the root of violence. Dworkin here is far more pragmatic: she blames any form of entrenched power and its abuses. This book is the closest Dworkin has ever come to mainstream cultural studies. If there is any justice in same, she will receive the readership "Scapegoat" deserves: people who sit through 600 pages a throw of Lacan, Foucault or Donna Haraway ought to be able to stomach this book with no trouble at all. In a perfect world.

But though this is Dworkin's best, most lucid and readable nonfiction book, it finally suffers by promoting just that which it argues to defeat, and what its existence calls into question almost by definition: presumptions of the ontological "uniqueness" of the Holocaust. The comparison to the abuse of women is not meant to relativize either, though the book's anthology of quotes offers a good deal of evidence for doing so. It is, instead, meant to assign to women an ontological specialness equivalent to being Jewish. Quite apart from the morally problematic nature of any such specialness, Dworkin falters badly on the necessary follow-through. The specialness of suffering results from a landless status which Dworkin is right in assuming not to be uniquely Jewish. By her own admission, there is no equivalent in specific female experience to the Jewish religion, which she correctly identifies as the unifying factor that has allowed even secular Jews to experience themselves as "chosen." Her alternative may be feminist ethical consciousness, but the analogy suffers from the fact that this is by definition a consciousness meant to transcend national boundaries. Like many other Jewish feminists, she identifies with Zionism and offers a severe yet forgiving analysis of its treatment of the Palestinians. She makes a fascinating parallel between Jewish ghettoization of Palestinians and feminist disdain for sexually abused women. Yet this analogy finally does not wash either. After four hundred pages devoted to the concept of both women and Jews as stateless people, the reader must be skeptical about prostitutes as an ethnicity, or "Zionism for women." Dworkin wants the possibility to exist and her understanding of the uniquely pained Israeli consciousness earns respect; all the same, she is too invested in the idea of nationalism as masculine and statelessness as female to propose a feminist separatist nationalism in credible terms.

"Scapegoat," then, tries hard to break new ground, both for feminists and for diasporan peoples, but finally ends up exposing the author's terrible and very Jewish dilemma: unable to choose either nationalism or statelessness in good conscience and yet left with the inescapable sense of chosenness and its burdens. All the same, it is a memorable summa by this country's best-known Jewish feminist, sacrificing her often tendentious originality for a reiteration of the Jewish question that honors its often-ignored sexual politics. Whether it does justice to them is a whole other question. "Scapegoat" can be read as a tissue of cliches on the subject; but people do think in cliches, and Dworkin does an adequate, sometimes uncanny job of describing how people tend to think about things. She will tell us that it is up to us to decide if that is how they are--with deeds as well as words. And words, as she has so often said, are deeds. It is in its reflection of the power of words about crimes and their victims that "Scapegoat" is most valuable as word and deed.

Just as Orwell was roundly attacked by the liberal left for daring to suggest that Stalin was as bad as Hitler, so Dworkin seems to arouse the ire of the left as thoroughly as the right! I have never seen such vitriolic reviews as those she receives. Yet her analyses of social problems -- femininist or otherwise -- are breathtaking in that you find yourself constantly saying -- Of course! That's why -- And in this she has the same effect as Tom Paine when he wrote Common Sense and The Rights of Man. Yet we live in very different times, when any form of criticism of the status quo is repressed, minimalized or mocked and Dworkin has received a barrage of heavy duty artillery. Powerful people have said how much they hate her. Newspaper proprietors insist that their papers carry no mention of her unless it is to attack her. People are fired (I know this from experience) for daring to suggest her analysis of pornography, for instance, is about the most coherent understanding of the problem we all face, especially those of us who are parents of young children. She also provides a constitutional means of dealing with pornography, and that is why people find her so dangerous -- she doesn't moralise about 'filth' and violence. She suggests the deep causes and she proposes solutions. Apparently, this makes people very angry, especially, I suspect, those with vested interest in pornography. Dworkin supports the First Amendment and knows how to attack pornography. What's wrong with that ? This new book is almost light reading compared with Intercourse, say, or even the relentless Mercy, but it asks a question we should all be asking -- how does a gun culture develop from an idealistic republic overthrowing oppression and the power of the gun ? Her answer is weary in a way -- if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. Just as dedicated internationalists supported Zionism, so does Dworkin the feminist suggest that women should take up the gun and fight for their own nation state. It's a visionary text, like many of her books, but it is extraordinarily stimulating in the questions it raises and the answers it proposes. A large percentage of this book is source reference and as usual Dworkin has quoted chapter and verse for every statement she makes. People were shocked of her reports of obscenities performed by Israeli soldiers before disgusted Palestinian women, to disperse a demonstration. Exactly the same tactics were described by the women of Greenham Common, England, when they were part of the Peace Camp trying to stop American nuclear missiles being sited in the UK. The British soldiers behaved identically. This has a lot to do with male confusion between aggression and sexuality and maybe that's why nobody wants to debate the issues Dworkin raises. Thank goodness for the internet, Amazon books, and a chance for ordinary readers to voice their enthusiasm and support for one of the grand, eloquent voices of our age. Mary Morris, Austin, Texas

This work took Dworkin NINE years to complete. And it really shows when one sits down to read it. It is incredibly well researched; indeed, most of the book is quotes from others and then Andrea's questions--tough questions--regarding them. Make no mistake however, you will not get the same information simply by reading the works of others; Andrea only picks the best of the best sources to quote, and the questions she asks are brilliant.

I absolutely cannot say enough good things about this book. It was the first Andrea Dworkin book I completed. Now, I can't wait to get my hands (or rather, eyes) on another one. :-)

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