Liberal Fascism: The Secret History of the American Left, From Mussolini to the Politics of Meaning

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My father, Sidney Goldberg, died before I could complete this book. In ways large and small, tangible and intangible, this book would be impossible without him.

My daughter, Lucy, was born while I was working on this book, and without her everything else would be pointless.

My wife, Jessica Gavora, a brilliant writer, editor, and critic, is the love and light of my life who allows me to see all of this, and so much else, clearly.

Adam Bellow, my editor and friend, was an indispensable shepherd and co-pilot throughout this process, and my gratitude for his insight, patience, and encouragement is boundless.

Joni Evans, my super-agent at William Morris, retired from the business while I was working on the book, but I am grateful for all of the effort and wisdom she contributed at the outset. Jay Mandel ably stepped into her elegant shoes, and I am grateful for that as well.

Several young people helped me with research along the way. Alison Hornstein, my first researcher, was stolen away from me too soon by a promising career as an academic. Lyle Rubin, an acutely bright young man, spent a summer swimming in liberal fascism and has remained a valuable sounding board even as he is now serving in the U.S. Marines. Windsor Mann has likewise proven to be an invaluable researcher with a first-rate, inquisitive mind and a very bright future ahead of him.

Working on this book while writing a regular syndicated column and contributing to National Review has been a far more arduous experience than I imagined. But then National Review, my home, has proven to be more accommodating and encouraging than I could ever have expected. Rich Lowry, my boss and friend, has been unflappably supportive. My brilliant colleague Ramesh Ponnuru has been an irreplaceable source of insights and editorial judgment, for this and almost everything I do. Kate O'Beirne, my savior Kathryn Lopez, John Miller, Michael Potemra, Ed Capano, Jack Fowler, John Derbyshire, Jay Nordlinger, Mark Steyn, and Byron York have made working for National Review a joy. John Podhoretz helped me greatly by reading chapters and providing support. Andrew Stuttaford read the entire book at the wire and came through with some invaluable corrections and questions.

My friends Scott McLucas, Tevi Troy, Vin Cannato, Ronald Bailey, Pam Friedman, and Douglas Anderson were, as always, supportive and valuable sounding boards. I would thank my friend Peter Beinart, but he had nothing to do with this book save to provide reassurance, by example, that some liberals still exemplify the intellectual integrity and patriotism that make even modern liberalism merely the loyal opposition, not the enemy. Cosmo, my canine side-kick, cared about none of this, which was what I wanted from him.

Others looked at early drafts of chapters or otherwise helped me think through my arguments. Charles Murray offered valuable guidance very early on. Nick Schulz, my intellectual partner in crime, was a constant source of encouragement and insight. Yuval Levin, Steven Horwitz, and Bradford Short made helpful suggestions, and Bill Walsh offered both crucial editorial guidance and extremely valuable German translations. John Williamson was immensely helpful finding obscure documents and publications. Kevin Holts-berry also provided some much needed editorial criticism. Steven Hayward, Ross Douthat, Christine Rosen, and Brian M. Riedl offered valuable suggestions. Of course, all errors are my own.

And as unorthodox as this may be, I need to thank the readers of National Review Online. For years an army of unseen friends and critics have helped me track down and understand everything from facts and figures to ephemera. They've pointed me in interesting directions, corrected my ignorance, and served as my muse on countless occasions. They are the smartest and best readers a writer could ask for.

Lastly, there's Mom. I am grateful to her for getting it. Always.