Gerald Posner's Case Closed makes a powerful case that the John F. Kennedy Assassination, the defining trauma of the 1960s, occurred exactly as reported: Lee Harvey Oswald fired the fatal shots in Dallas on November 22, 1963 and destroyed a presidency, and a nation's innocence in the process. Posner published his book in 1993, soon after Oliver Stone's JFK reignited popular interest in the assassination and the millions of conspiracy theories swirling around it. With over 80 percent of Americans believing some variation of conspiracy (a number that's only slightly declined since) and seemingly endless theories (blaming everyone from semi-plausible culprits - the CIA, KGB, mafia and right wing extremists - to the berserk - Lyndon Johnson, Frank Sinatra, MJ-12's Alien Cover-Up Division and the Illuminati), he faced a daunting task. The book might disappoint those looking for a thorough debunking of the most common conspiracy theories, which it mostly addresses in passim. Instead, Posner files a detailed prosecutor's brief that Oswald was fully capable, both technically and by temperament, of having killed Kennedy himself. And most readers will find it hard to argue with his conclusions.
The balance of the book focuses on Oswald himself, probing his troubled life in painful detail. Conspiracy books often deal with Oswald as an afterthought, some going so far as to depict him as a victim; one sanctimonious recent author dubs him "one of those bright, lost, fatherless boys whom society finds inventive ways of abusing." Posner has no time for this misplaced sentimentality. Indeed the product of a broken home and an overprotective mother, Oswald was no pitiable "lost boy" but a juvenile delinquent who matured into a troublemaker. As a Marine he argued with fellow servicemen and accidentally injured himself with a firearm; he became a communist and defected to the Soviet Union, only to grow almost immediately disillusioned when the "Worker's Paradise" failed to match his expectations. Returning to the US with his Russian wife Marina, he drifted between Dallas and New Orleans, physically abusing his wife, struggling to hold down his job and becoming increasingly engrossed in quixotic political activism. Oswald's minor notoriety as a pro-Castro gadfly certainly made him stand out in the heated political context of the early '60s; his attempted murder of right wing demagogue Edwin Walker cemented his credentials as a "hunter of fascists." He wasn't merely a loser acting out but a man with strongly-held, if somewhat inchoate political beliefs, inflated sense of self-importance and a propensity for violence. In other words, exactly the sort of man who might turn a gun on the President of the United States.
Posner further demonstrates that, despite decades of conspiracy lore arguing otherwise, Oswald's shooting was perfectly plausible and indeed probable. Most witnesses supported the Warren Commission's conclusion that three shots were fired; only a handful claimed to see more shots, or additional shooters, and most of the latter invented or embellished their stories years, even decades after the fact. The "magic bullet" which injured both Kennedy and Governor John Connally seems a lot less magical when Posner demonstrates that their positions in the car made it easy for a bullet to pass through them as described, with relatively little deviation of its route (none of the "bullet hovering in midair" nonsense propagated by Oliver Stone). Oswald's rifle, the much-maligned Mannlicher-Carcano, was a perfectly serviceable weapon for the task at hand (unmentioned by Posner, the cause of its poor wartime reputation was the Italian military issuing it to soldiers with improper ammunition). Kennedy's head snapping "back and to the left" was a neurological reaction to a bullet obliterating his brain; indeed, a frame-by-frame breakdown of the Zapruder film shows that he actually slumps forward first, until the brain explodes into fragments. The evidence against Oswald is largely substantial and convincing; the evidence for a conspiracy is largely conjectural, reduced to a handful of unreliable witnesses, suppositions about who benefited from Kennedy’s death and scouring photographs and videos for light and shadows that might, if you squint, resemble a second shooter.
If Posner's book has a failing, it's not that he fails to address the likes of Mark Lane, Anthony Summers, etc. in detail, something that falls outside his purview (Vincent Bugliosi's Reclaiming History, an almost-comically detailed encyclopedia of debunking, serves that function). Rather, he assumes too much competence on the part of the investigating bodies: the FBI's destruction of the Hosty letter and other evidence of their poor handling of Oswald before the assassination, for instance, is only mentioned in passing. The CIA's refusal to hand over documents to the Warren Commission (partially in fear of exposing their operations to overthrow Fidel Castro) cast a veil of suspicion over the investigation that never faded. There was a cover-up after the assassination, but not of government complicity in Kennedy's death; instead it was bureaucratic ass covering that, by seeking to remove suspicion, only inflamed it instead. Even without considering this, however, Posner makes a near-ironclad case that Oswald was the only shooter in Dealey Plaza. And while conspiracy theories have continued to percolate through media and public consciousness since Case Closed's publication, none have adequately addressed Posner's arguments. A formidable work of rubbish-clearing; essential reading.