Oratorical Animal

Gingrich and Churchill

As the star of Gingrich rises slowly in the Republican field, a good many people have tried to understand why an adulterous, disgraced former Speaker of the House has become the frontrunner. Here's my weird and speculative answer: Winston Churchill.

For at least the past forty years, American conservatives have worshiped at the shrine of Churchill and that devotion only intensified in the wake of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks. George W. Bush and his speechwriters consciously used Churchill's public address as a model and reported falling in love with the Englishman's "rolling triads." 

More important, perhaps, is the extraordinarily powerful interpretive frame shared by many--probably a majority--of American conservatives since at least the election of Bill Clinton and probably before. It goes something like this: The United States of America they knew is nearly gone. Liberals, minorities, feminists, activist judges, homosexuals, the mainstream media, the Democratic Party and, lately, the black, foreign socialist in the White House have destroyed the American economy and coarsened American culture nearly beyond redemption. Only a small, faithful band of conservatives remain, holding the candle of civilization high and beset on all sides by Islamic presidents and terrorists. In more serious forms, of course, this is a classic use of the locus of the irreparable--the argument that we are nearly at the point of no return. American life is on the precipice and will soon fail, if something is not done--a situation precisely like that of Great Britain in 1939.

Enter Newt Gingrich. Gingrich plays to the narrative better than any other Republican. Like Churchill, Gingrich is an intellectual; he writes history, fiction, and policy. Like Churchill, he's switched positions (heck, Churchill switched parties). Like Churchill, he's endured his time in the wilderness.In fact, Gingrich has been a prophet in the wilderness and is only returning to politics now to face down the appeasers, those who would lead our country into the darkness. For instance, he said this the other night: “Rick Santorum’s consistency and courage on Iran has been a hallmark of why, if we do survive, it will be in part because of people like Rick who’ve had the courage to tell the truth about the Iranians for a long time.” He's lauding Santorum here for his willingness to "stand up" to the Iranians as they develop a nuke, but what's striking here is the throwaway clause : "if we do survive." Gingrich sees Iran as Churchill saw Germany--an existensial threat to the nation's survival. That makes no sense, but it accords with Gingrich's prime narrative. If Gingrich is Churchill, then Iran must be Nazi Germany.

It's difficult, I think, to overstate the grip of this narrative on the conservative mind: they are alone, beleagured, and surrounded by appeasers. It's ridiculous, of course--when you own a television network, for example, you're not particularly beleagured and they constantly have to square the fact that they lay claim to this status while also asserting a majority of Americans are conservative. But this interpretive frame, judging by the near-constant talk of appeasement, of cultural decline, of a massive liberal media and conspiracy, is the way into their worldview.

Of course, there are obvious differences between the two men. Churchill was smart, monogamous, and drunk. Gingrich is not. But he plays Churchill better than anyone out there. Next to "Churchill," Romney is weak tea, indeed--in fact, he looks like one of those aristocratic appeasers, with his long face and perfect hair. Gingrich gets the Republican electorate. He understands their fear and exploits it with ruthless precision.

 

A Tale of Two Articles: Gay Life in America

As I read the NYT yesterday, I couldn't help but compare and contrast two articles on gay life in this country. They say a lot about where one can find the "real" America, the "heartland" of our nation.

The first and most obvious was a front page story detailing the "relentless antigay bullying" in the Anoka Hennepin school district, north of Minneapolis, MN. It's so horrible that six students have taken the risk of suing the school district; the Department of Justice, happily, is investigating the district for its failure to stop the bullying. The district has also suffered eight suicides over the past two years. School officials deny that the bullying has anything to do with the deaths; friends and family sharply dispute that assertion.

The district's failure to respond to the physical and psychological abuse can be traced directly to the gag order passed in 2009 and supported by "Christian" groups allied with the local Congresswoman, Michele Bachmann (You knew that was coming, didn't you?). It says that “teaching about sexual orientation is not part of the district-adopted curriculum” and that staff “shall remain neutral on matters regarding sexual orientation.” In practice, it appears that, by singling out gay and lesbian students, the policy gives bigots free rein to attack those students, with little fear of school authorities. Any change in the policy is being fiercely opposed by the Minnesota Family Council, among others. They and their allies label loving gay relationships "abnormal and unhealthy." They prefer, the article notes, to blame GLBTQ activists for the suicides and bullying, arguing "that depression among gay teenagers is often the fault of gay rights advocates who create hopelessness: 'When a child has been deliberately misinformed about the causes of homosexuality and told that homosexual acts are normal and natural, all hope for recovery is taken away.'” 

Meanwhile, you could read about one of those abnormal and unhealthy relationships elsewhere in the paper. Harold Leads and Wheaton Galentine met (where else?) at the Rockefeller Center skating rink in 1944. They became a couple nearly immediately and moved in together, first on 48th Street and then in the Village. They owned a lovely home there, rented an apartment to Tim Gunn for 16 years, had first their house and then the one next door turned into "Carrie Bradshaw's home," and stayed together until Harold died in 2002. Wheaton joined him this past June, still speaking and thinking of Harold until the end. They laughed, loved, and lived in spite of the obstacles they faced for much of their lives. They entertained 1000s, supported many charities, and generally had a life I admire more than I can say.

Of course, GLBTQ folks don't have to "earn" their freedoms and rights through monogamous relationships. No matter your love life, you shouldn't have to endure someone who decides to piss on your head, a practice that little concerns the Anoka Hennepin school district or Ms. Bachmann. But the next time you watdch a Republican debate and hear the good Congresswoman go on one of her rants about the "homosexual agenda," spare a thought for Harold and Wheaton. I like to imagine them smiling gently at the foolisness of the mortals, and holding hands as they look across unimaginable vistas.

Occupational Psychosis, Drew Westen, and Obama's Passion

Never have I seen so many of my Facebook friends, particularly my communication colleagues, link to a piece the way they have linked to Drew Westin's "What Happened to Obama?" (This is the print edition title). I can see why. I agree with much of it. It's clear, compelling, and appeals to much that is in all of us. And that's precisely the problem with the enthusiasm. Three reservations to consider.

First, Westen makes stories--rhetoric--absolutely central to political success. He believes the human brain is hard wired to love stories. In Weston's judgment, Obama has failed to tell a good story. Ergo, he struggles politically. The fact that Westen's "story" is a syllogism (Major premise--human brain hearts stories. Minor premise: Obama sucks. Conclusion: Obama struggles) should caution us about the universality of the sweeping claims he makes. Equally important, he plays to our prejudices--"our" meaning liberal rhetoric professors like me--in two ways: 1) Rhetoric is the most important thing in the whole world. 2) Obama should have governed as a full-bore liberal. As Aristotle pointed out, it's easier to praise Athenians in Athens than it is to praise Laecedemonians. No wonder every liberal comm professor is posting this.

More important, perhaps, is the fact that, while we like stories, narrative alone makes for dangerous politics. Bill Lewis taught that to us in his magnificent 1987 QJS essay on Ronald Reagan. Narratives need evaluation in terms of their evidence and argument. Even if you grant that we are "hard-wired" to like narrative, we should learn argument. As we should have discovered even in the past few months, facts are useful. 

Second, Westen nicely--and slickly--disclaims his expertise: "As a practicing psychologist with more than 25 years of experience, I will resist the temptation to diagnose at a distance, but as a scientist and strategic consultant, I will venture some hypotheses." The second half of this sentence negates the first; he resists temptation nearly as well as Hef. Westen uses his expertise as a psychologist to explain the behavior of a person he has never met. Dr. Drew awaits!

I am always dubious about "experts" who 1) venture well outside their areas of expertise and continue to use the tools of that expertise; and 2) disclaim their expertise while using their expertise. If Westen believes Obama has failed to "resolve his identity," that is, um, a psychological evaluation. Honesty is the best policy. Look, Westen thinks Obama should have tacked farther to the left, that he should have denounced the moneychangers in the temple. Great. I agree. But don't claim, even implicitly, that expertise in psychology guarantees the success of this recommendation.

Connected to that is the utter lack of context--he makes sweeping claims about the nature of the human brain, he generalizes his personal reactions to Obama to the population at large, and, shaped by his training, he assumes the problem is in Obama's head. Kenneth Burke refers to that as "occupational psychosis," or, to use the vernacular, if you're a hammer, every problem looks like a nail.

And that's the final reservation I have. Look, for those of us old enough to remember politics clearly, you could substitute "Clinton" for "Obama" throughout this op-ed and you'd have a lovely example of the sort of thing that appeared throughout 1995. The last two Democratic presidents have run inspiring, vaguely populist campaigns that promised to right the wrongs of the Republicans. Each, then, has tacked strongly to the center, if not the right, once they landed in the presidency. Liberals screamed angrily about each one as a result.

This suggests that the problem rests not in Obama's head, but in the state of American politics--in the partisan divide (twice as many people say they are conservative as liberal), in the traditions of speech the men have inherited, in the cultural definitions of liberalism, in the economic divide that plagues the country, in the lack of a liberal infrastructure analogous to the conservative one, etc. It is a problem with multiple dimensions.

I believe rhetoric matters. I think this article makes some good points, particularly when he discusses Obama's habit of contradicting himself. But the fact that the last two Democratic presidents--both superb orators--have both struggled in precisely the same sorts of ways suggests that a pretty story, a misplaced nostalgia for the past, will not make our boo-boo better. 

Eyes that fail to see; Ears that fail to hear

It is rare when a public debate that so consumes the nation has so little to do with the national welfare. At present, the United States runs the risk of blowing through its debt ceiling because a portion of the House Republicans, representing a minority of the American people, refuses to negotiate in good faith for a solution. In a larger sense, however, this is the wrong debate at the wrong time in the wrong nation.

The United States still suffers from the most severe economic downturn since the Great Depression. Better than 9% of those still looking for work are unemployed and the real unemployment rate is well over that. The Great Recession has hurt the prospects of all Americans, but, as the NYT reported the other day, it has hit Latinos and African Americans particularly hard. 

Unlike previous postwar recessions, this is a financial collapse. Most households accumulated high levels of debt in the past twenty years--to compensate for the lack of any real rise in median income over the past 30 years--and do not feel free to spend until they work debt down to manageable proportions. The president, to give him some credit, understood the problem and sought to fill the demand gap with the economic stimulus. Unfortunately, it was too small and too weighted toward tax cuts. So, it didn't possess the potential to generate the demand needed and what demand it could create was lowered by the fact that people too often bank tax cuts rather than spending the funds. Plus, heavy cuts at the state and local level counteracted federal spending. The president also, to his credit, pursued other policies, particularly help for the auto industry, that paid major dividends for the economy, meaning that it is in significantly better shape than it would have been otherwise. But it's still not good.

Equally important, although most news organizations fail to cover foreign economic news, the rest of the world is currently facing serious problems. Even as Republicans needlessly risk the nation's credit rating, the Euro Zone stares into a serious financial abyss. Unwilling to restructure any debt, it seems, the policies of the European Central Bank--and Germany/France in addition--threaten to create financial catastrophe. Nations such as Greece, Ireland, Portugal, Spain, and Italy find themselves struggling to stay in the euro, looking at decades of austerity because they cannot devalue their currency in order to become more competitive on the world market and grow out of recession, as, for instance, Britain did in the early 90s. No "rescue" package for these nations or the euro has done the job. The interest rate spread between Italian and German bonds is, this morning, as bad as it was before the most recent effort. By the by, it is delusional to think that the peoples of these nations will not eventually look to more political, more radical solutions to their problems, given that they have had almost no say in current policy. And, of course, three of the four BRIC nations (Brazil, India, China)--who have driven what world recovery there is--are now seeking to slow economic growth in the face of mounting inflation. In short, the world economy is in serious trouble.

Any rational set of American policymakers, as even that center right bastion of economic advice,  The Economist argues, would nurse the present recovery through short term stimulus (aid to states is my favorite--it gets spent on important stuff and prevents state cuts from balancing federal spending) and develop medium and long term plans to bring the debt down gradually as good times take hold. Instead, Washington obsesses over cuts to the budget at a time of weakness. This is ridiculous. Again, The Economist (its Economics focus columnist): "In a recent study of 173 fiscal-policy changes in rich countries from 1978 to 2009, economists from the IMF found that cutting a country's budget deficit by 1% of GDP typically reduces real output by about two-thirds of a percentage point and raises the unemployment rate by 1/3 of a percentage point." Small percentages, but bad numbers in terms of real money and people, at a time when we're alreadyy suffering. Surprisingly, it seems, contractionary fiscal policy contracts the economy.

Nothing better illustrates the complete disconnect between the capital of a nation and its people than this present debate. Those in Congress, commenting in the media, working in the bureaucracy, issuing reports from think tanks--they have good jobs, with health benefits. They've convinced themselves that only debt matters. More important, it seems, they all know only each other and cannot seem quite able to imagine the distress in the rest of the country. They talk to each other, listen to each other, dine with each other, golf with each other, and gossip about each other, including our ostensibly Democratic president. It is a perfect example of groupthink; it's liable to work as well as it always does. And, as in Europe, if the leaders of presumed "democracies" fail to address the problems suffered by their peoples, then they are likely to turn to more potent alternatives.

The Bipolarity of Power in the Republican Party

As a number of previous posts indicate, I've been thinking a good deal about the Republican Party and its likely nominee in 2012. Most of the time, I focus on specific speeches or political developments. Lately, I've been trying to think through the big picture. In recent years, I believe, a bipolar order of power characterizes the Republican Party. What makes the upcoming election year less than predictable is that neither power center has thus far put forward its most logical candidate. It may be that they will or that one of the current candidates will unexpectedly fill one of these roles. But it hasn't happened yet and that's why the race has become so illogical and unpredictable.

The first major faction in the party traces its lineage to the immediate postwar period. For lack of a better term, let's call them Reagan Republicans. They believe. They've adopted the words of Richard Weaver as their slogan: "Ideas have Consequences." They believe the primary force influencing U.S. politics is the power of ideas. In their view, the Republicans have held a virtual monopoly on this power since the late 1950s. Historically, these Republicans have mobilized around politicians such as Barry Goldwater, Ronald Reagan, and Jack Kemp. They generally dominate conservative print media, such as the Wall Street Journal editorial page, National Review and Human Events, as well as some think tanks, such as the Heritage Foundation and direct mail efforts. At times, they have developed a close alliance with those disaffected liberals known as neo-conservatives, represented by The Weekly Standard, but that alliance is an uneasy and intermittent one. They like a small government, a strong defense, traditional standards of morality, and, occasionally, innovative conservative ideas for addressing "liberal" problems--enterprise zones to fight poverty, for instance, or school vouchers, or market solutions to pollution. 

The second major faction in the party traces its lineage to the Nixon campaigns for president. For lack of a better term, let's call them Bush Republicans. They believe in power, business, and the business of power. They believe the primary force influencing U.S. politics is money, often manifested by control of the news cycle and media agenda. Historically, these Republicans have mobilized around politicians such as Richard Nixon and the two Bushes (H.W. was chair of the RNC during Watergate). Perhaps more important, however, they live through a "family" of consultants and media personalities stretching back to Nixon's 1968 campaign: Roger Ailes, Lee Atwater, Mary Matalin, Karl Rove, and more. These operatives can generally raise a vast amount of cash. They dominate television, particularly Fox News, their factional organ. They are primarily interested in winning and holding power, which allows them to do favors for friends and indulge in crony capitalism. They are willing to bend their ideas to achieve political power--witness the "evolution" of H. W. Bush. They adopt ideas partly because they like them, but mostly for their political impact. School vouchers are a good idea, they feel, but more significant is the fact they'll destroy public teachers' unions, a key constituency for the Democratic Party. The political effect of policy matters more than policy.

Over time, this faction has come to carry more weight in the party, but in no sense is there complete dominance. The Reagan Republicans often have, at minimum, veto power.

Unfortunately or fortunately for Republicans, the two men who most clearly represent these two power centers are Paul Ryan and Jeb Bush. For the past several years, Paul Ryan has been the "idea man" of the Republican Party. That image has captivated the national media, despite considerable evidence that his numbers never add up. Meanwhile, as Kevin Phillips and some conservatives have lamented, the Bush family has come to dominate the other pole of the Republican party, much as Kennedy=liberal for some considerable time in the Democratic Party, and Jeb is the most obvious representative for this faction.

I believe, then, that part of the reason most have had such difficulty predicting a winner--or even a favorite--is the fact that the current field simply doesn't represent the major centers of power. For instance, the Bush faction has not tipped its hand--no rush of fundraisers, no movement of consultants, no tip of the hat from Roger Ailes, no name dropping from Mary Matalin, just a bland acknowledgement of the "fine qualities" of all. Meanwhile, the ideological Republicans have fallen positively in love with Paul Ryan; a neo-con, former VP Cheney, "worships" the ground he walks on. That ground, at least so far, is not leading to a presidential campaign.

In terms of the current field, Mitt Romney is desperately trying to win the endorsement of the Bush faction. He has consistently indicated his willingness to pay any price, bear any burden, abandon any principle that will lead to the survival and success of his candidacy. You name it; he'll become it. Tim Pawlenty is trying to become the Paul Ryan of the presidential race; that seems a tall order for an oft-confused goofball.

This is why there's such room to run for outliers like Ron Paul, Michelle Bachman, Newt Gingrich, and Herman Cain. In normal years--think 1988 or 2000--the power and money of the Bushies would squash them like a bug and, once John McCain handed over his backbone, that happened the last time around as well. But something about Mitt (health care?) and Tim (too little blood lust?) puts them off. I don't know how this'll end up, but I'd bet that, if Jeb Bush jumped in, it'd be over in an instant.

A Nice Speech

Every once in a while, as I do this job, I run across a speech I simply like. President Obama's address to the Parliament in London yesterday is one of those efforts. I doubt I'll ever write an academic essay about it nor do I think it tells us something new about public address. But it's a good speech, an appealing one. For someone teaching US foreign policy rhetoric, there might be a nice little unit on the "special relationship" between Great Britain and the United States, using Winston Churchill's December 1941address to a joint session of Congress and Obama's speecch.

Why do I like it? For one thing, it's funny. The jokes actually work, which is rare for a political speech. For instance, Obama said, "I am told that the last three speakers here have been the Pope, Her Majesty the Queen, and Nelson Mandela--which is either a very high bar or the beginning of a very funny joke." For another, Obama again nicely structures the address--past successes lead to future challenges solved by timeless values. And, of course, the president nicely weaves together English and American allusions, performing our special relationship even as he asserts it.

But what may be politically interesting about this speech is the way in which President Obama is slowly but surely developing a full-throated narrative defense of the liberal tradition. In both his recent budget speech and in this one, he begins with consensual values, "Adam Smith's central insight remains true today. There is no greater generator of wealth and innovation than a system of free enterprise that unleashes the potential of individual men and women." Stretching that insight across time and space, he argues that it has worked throughout the past two centuries and across the globe.

But it works best when we include all people, when we invest in education, when we guard against market failures, when we work together for a paceful world, and when we uphold human rights. I've expressed gthese claims much less naturally than he does; the narrative flow he creates encompasses these concerns very well. They flow naturally from the consensus he's identified. 

Equally important, there's always a cutting edge. For instance, the president is determined to include all peoples in his vision. So, he credits the traditional heroes of the Anglo-American narrative in the speech, but at the beginning, he features--strongly--somewhat different founders than is the norm: "For both of our nations, living up to the ideals enshrined in these founding documents has sometimes been difficult, has always been a work in progress. The path has never been perfect. But through the struggles of slaves and immigrants, women and ethnic minorities, former colonies and persecuted religions, we have learned better than most that the longing for freedom and human dignity is not English or American or Western--it is universal and it beats in every heart."

To put this metaphorically, these are Reagan's words and King's music, melded to make something new and interesting. He extolls liberal values, but argues those traditionally on the outside have done the most to make those ideals real in the history of the two nations.

Similarly, at the end of the address, he acknowledges that "our diversity can lead to tension." There've been hard debates about immigration and assimilation, but "we fundamentally recognize that our patchwork heritage is an enormous strength--that in a world which will only grow smaller and more interconnected, the example of our two nations says it possible for people to be united in their ideals, instead of divided by their differences; that it's possible for hearts to change and old hatreds to pass; that it's possible for the sons and daughters of former colonies to sit here as members of this great Parliament, and for the grandson of a Kenyan who served as a cook in the British Army to stand before you as President of the United States."

Very nice--he establishes diversity as the fundamental strength of both nations, represented in our narrative history--the earlier quotation--and in our present circumstance--the later quotation. That diversity is both practical--a strength as the world becomes more interconnected (imitating US/UK)--and ideal--hearts heal and hatreds pass. All of that, then, is represented by the histories of these two nations and embodied in the person of the President--much as the special relationship was embodied in the person of Churchill (American mother, English father) as he explicitly noted in his 1941 speech before Congress. The very strategy used enacts the special relationship while also rooting that relationship in liberal values.

This is a good speech. It also shows that the president is nicely warming up for the coming election.

T-Paw Enters the Race

Former Minnesota Governor Tim Pawlenty announced his candidacy for the presidency this week. It's a bland speech that generally follows the generic rules for a challenger: Announce your candidacy, indict the status quo, establish yourself as the fresh alternative, embody that alternative in your life's story, and close with a bad rendition of "I Have a Dream." But three choices are worthy of note.

First, Pawlenty defines himself as the truth-teller in this race--he'll tell the nation the hard truth about tough choices. To say the least, this is not a new persona in presidential campaigns. In the postwar period alone, Adlai Stevenson called on his party to "tell the truth to the American people" in his 1952 presidential nomination acceptance address and a long line of generally Democratic Party candidates has followed in this tradition. In recent years, they've included figures such as Jimmy Carter ("I will never tell a lie"), John Anderson, Bruce Babbit, Paul Tsongas, and others. Judging from the success enjoyed by these candidates, the American people don't much like the truth.

Equally important, perhaps, it's the common solution to a recurrent problem: Like all of the above candidates, Pawlenty worries about his reputation as a wimp. In a party that reveres hard, manly men chopping brush on ranches or blasting buckshot into their friends' faces, much less even tougher manly women shooting animals in Alaska, T-Paw, well, offers his paw. He has the same problem as the Cubs logo--a nice, friendly lil bear. Hi. I'm a bear. Hug me. So, like H. W. Bush, T-Paw wants to talk tough. I suspect he'll soon declare his love for pork rinds; he's already tried out a southern accent. The gender politics of the Republican Party do not work well for T-Paw.

Second, in a manner akin to Carter in 1976, Pawlenty opens himself to charges of hypocrisy. There's nothing the media likes better than such a challenge. So, when T-Paw declares that he will tell the truth, they immediately begin digging for the numerous "misstatements" he makes in the announcement in which he claims he will tell the truth. Oh my. It's a bit like the challenge offered by Gary Hart in 1988--I don't fool around on my wife, he said. Follow me, he said. That'll show you. It did.   

Finally, I suspect Pawlenty has adopted the "truth" strategy for two reasons. Initially, he's probably already anticipating that he'll have to endorse some form of the deeply unpopular Ryan budget; it's become GOP orthodoxy. So, he's trying to frame that disaster as a test of character; real men, real politicians cut entitlement programs. It's not a question of policy, of prudence: does this budget work and, if so, how? Rather, it's a question of character, of credibility: are you willing to stand up and be counted? The chattering class in Washington thinks this way, so he's probably hoping to get away with a pretty disastrous policy choice and, by framing the issue as character, he again reaffirms his manliness.

In addition, he clearly believes that his only real opponent will be Mitt Romney. T-Paw has chosen a theme that appears positive ("I'll tell the truth") but is negative at its very core. It's designed to contrast to Romney, the liberal Massachusetts flip-flopper. Every time Pawlenty says he'll make the hard choices, he implies that Romney never will. The theme plugs into popular perceptions of Mitt and thus becomes a negative attack without ever saying much in the way of negative words. Of course, it doesn't work against anybody but Mitt--and that may be an issue if Sarah Palin decides to enter the race.

It's not a particularly impressive announcement but, in light of the current field, Pawlenty may well be right in his assessment of a two man race. If so, his attack on Romney's character could be just the political insurance T-Paw needs. A mandate, if you will.

Prime Minister Netanyahu's 2002 Address to Congress, which

unfortunately for him, he gave in 2011. The Prime Minister's address today was an unusually powerful demonstration of the importance of kairos or timing in rhetorical action. A concept drawn from the ancient Greek, kairos as a term tries to comprehend the role of time in public address--how do we characterize the times we are in? When should one intervene in a public debate? How does the flow of time shape rhetorical appeals and arguments?

In the case of Netanyahu, hardly at all. Although the Congress hung rapt on his every word, that is not an effect that is likely to last. That's primarily because his speech reflected assumptions that may have been "true"--in the sense that they served nicely as premises for public argument--in the halcyon (for neocons) days following 9/11, but no longer hold much water. So, Netanyahu's speech claimed

1) An absolute identification between the values and interests of the United States and the values and interests of Israel. Again, many Americans may have accepted this claim in the months following 9/11, but it was not likely true then and not likely true now. For instance, a peace settlement would do much to improve the situation of the United States in the region; given the conditions Netanyahu sets, he clearly wants to continue an indefinite occupation of much of the West Bank. The time is fast approaching when that conflict in interests will become impossible to ignore.

2) An absolute identification between the values of democracy and the existing norms of Israel and the United States. I have no doubt the United States and Israel approximate those ideals better than many nations. I also understand that, as Reinhold Niebuhr put it, "imperialism is the collective expression of the sinful will-to-power which characterizes all human existence." Our hands are not clean and neither are Israel's. Netanyahu's speech assumes an absolute purity on the part of the United States and Israel that has no foundation in historical experience. It is the same blindness that afflicted the Bush Administration--we can bring democracy to the region because we are pure.

3) An absolute division between good and evil in the region. Netanyahu tries to embrace the continuing democratic movements in the area. But, after a brief acknowledgement of their potential, he offers the example of Iran. Built into the text is the assumption that his adversaries in the region simply can't be democratic, unless they live under the tutelage of Israel. Other than that, they will inevitably, it seems, slip into authoritarianism. Thus, we should pay no attention to those democracies emerging from behind the curtain. They mean nothing.

This is a speech that offers a Manichean world, a twilight struggle between the forces of light and the forces of darkness, and a victory that can only be won by an endless, rigid determination--by a supreme exertion of will. It is, in short, a speech that could have been given by former Vice-President Richard Cheney. It is not an address that reflects the times in which we live. For that, I am very sad because I suspect the Prime Minister's leadership will take the nation he loves into very bad times, indeed.

The Republican Field/The Republican Rhetoric

I'm befuddled. I don't often feel that way about political developments (as opposed to automobile repair or home improvement), but I simply do not understand the shape of the Republican primary field. With recent announcements (Pawlenty) and withdrawals (Barbour, Huckabee,Trump, and Daniels), the "frontrunning," respectable candidates as anointed by the media this morning appear to be former Governors Mitt Romney, Tim Pawlenty, and Jon Huntsman. The first was, in effect, a moderate Democratic Governor of Massachusetts, the second was the incompetent and charisma-challenged Governor of Minnesota, and the third was the devil's (Obama) ambassador to the 2nd ring of Communist-inspired hell (China). In 2008, would I have ever voted for a Democratic candidate who served in Bush's Administration? No. No, I would not and I cannot believe Republicans will act any differently.

I'm shocked at what's missing. In the past several decades, the Republican Party has rooted itself in the south, denounced government, extolled Christian fundamentalist values, and, after Bush II, became increasingly dubious about those beyond our borders, not to mention those trying to cross our borders. None of these three candidates meet any of those standards; all would probably have to waste a VP slot on a person (Barbour? Rubio?) who could shore up their geographic home and 2 of the 3 are Mormon, a disquieting fact for at least a good third of the base. What then could happen? Let me offer a rhetorical forecast, one admittedly based not on current polling, etc., but rather based on three constitutive elements of the Republican rhetoric. Let's be clear: I don't know who will win the nomination, but I have a sense of the sort of candidate who will win the hearts of the party faithful.

1) The Republican Party hates government: Notice that I did not write "big" government. The strong, seemingly fringe, emphasis in recent years on the 10th amendment, on "federalism" as "right-thinking" conservatives understand it, on state's rights, much less the multiple discourses of business leaders objecting to financial regulation, NRA activists touting all manner of pro-gun laws, and Tea Party activists screaming about taxes marks a noticeable shift in conservative discourse. It's not enough to argue, as former governors do--as Reagan did--that one knows how to run a smaller, smarter, better government. One must strangle government.

2) Except when it comes to "appropriate" social norms: A few months ago, Governor Mitch Daniels proposed a "truce" on social issues so that leaders could concentrate on fiscal responsibility. The howls of outrage across Republican circles were so loud that Daniels quickly signed into law legislation that revoked state Medicare contracts with Planned Parenthood, thus relieving thousands of poor women of their primary health care provider. No matter. Planned Parenthood also provides abortion services. So much for the truce. In fact, the new Republican House majority has spent an inordinate amount of time on such issues since January. None of the "frontrunners" can be characterized as a cultural warrior. In fact, Pawlenty cannot be characterized as a warrior of any sort.

3) And also the policing of our borders and the distrust of aliens, both those willing to stay home and those trying to come here and those inhabiting the greater Milky Way: In all seriousness, the Republican base has become increasingly insular or, to borrow a term from Walter Russell Mead, increasingly Jacksonian. They don't want to think much about foreign nations, they don't much trust them, they don't much want to trade with them (a fault line between the Tea Party base and the elites), and will only stomp them flat when US interests are directly and clearly threatened. I suspect, but cannot prove (although my own Congressman is a good example), that a sort of Buchananite disgust with those beyond our borders is the result of Bush II's administration. The US has spent better than a decade giving the lives of our boys and those people still can't get their act together, or so goes the argument. To hell with them.

So, is this the whole of the Republican party? No. There is a huge chunk, perhaps even a small majority, who would not sign onto any of these statements and more yet who would not endorse one or another. But this is by far the most active, the most alive segment of the party, just as the McGovern Left was the most energized part of the Democratic Party in 1972. They'll want a candidate. There is an opening for a candidate who can clearly articulate these premises, who doesn't look or act like the three white guys, who hasn't been tainted with the messy fact of public administration, who can live off the land, off the church network, off internet fundraising, and who draws media attention like moths to a flame, thus multiplying the oomph of scarce campaign dollars. Hello, Representative Bachmann.  

Audience Adaptation and Foreign Policy Rhetoric

President Obama's speech yesterday interests me on any number of levels, but it's a nice illustration of a persistent problem faced by presidents when they make a major foreign policy statement: Who is the audience? On the one hand, a president needs the support of the American people to pursue his goals abroad. On the other hand, he also needs to persuade key actors abroad to support his goals. These  audiences often have little in common or actively oppose one another. Two key tensions/strategies in Obama's address yesterday nicely make this point.

First, as he so often does, the president begins with history. Initially, he briefly recounts the history of his administration, a narrative with a dissociative purpose--he is again differentiating his policy from that of George W. Bush. More important, however, is an early paragraph that leads into a history of the region. Obama argues there "are times in the course of history when the actions of ordinary citizens spark movements for change because they speak to a longing for freedom that has been building up for years." He then notes that, in "America," we "think of of the defiance of those patriots in Boston who refused to pay taxes to a King, or the dignity of Rosa Parks as she sat courageously in her seat. So it was in Tunisia..." From there, he moves into the history of the region and its freedom movements.

A couple of points. Initially, and despite later caveats ("It's not America that put people into the streets of Tunis or Cairo"), the president serially links these moments, implying causation although none exists--the Tea Party (there's our ironic president) to Rosa Parks to the young Tunisian vendor Mohammed Bouazizi. This is the sequential fallacy; sequence does not mean causation or inspiration. Next, and despite his dismissal of Bush, the first line could have come directly from the former president's late and entirely unlamented Second Inaugural, right down to the fire imagery and the "freedom" god term. Ick. Not a good way to dissociate your approach from that of Bush.

My larger point is this: Obama's history in this address is preeminently an American history, designed for an American audience. It speaks of American values and heroes. He leaves out what those in, for instance, the Arab world might consider a more relevant narrative--the story of US interference in or dominance of the region. Simply to limit that to the postwar world, we'd have to include Truman's recognition of Israel, Eisenhower's deployment to Lebanon and management of the Suez crisis, the supply of Israel in various wars, Reagan's deployment to Lebanon, 3 US wars, support for the Shah of Iran and more. I'm not saying Obama should have recounted all of this; I am saying that his use of history reveals a powerful tension. He says he wishes to speak to the peoples of the region, but his use of history reveals a preoccupation with his American audience.

Second, the same tension suffuses issues of what critics would call agency or, in straightforward terms, Obama's implicit construction of US power--are we able to achieve our goals? And, if so, how? On the one hand, the president, consistent with his Neibuhrian leanings, emphasizes the fact that "we must proceed with a sense of humility." Such leanings come through again as he seeks to balance our "core interests" with the fact that "narrow pursuit of these interests will not fill an empty stomach or allow someone to speak their mind." He understands that interests alone will not do because nations "held together by fear and repression may offer the illusion of stability for a time, but they are built upon fault lines that will eventually tear asunder." In short, Right makes Might--we must pursue our interests but those interests are best served through a simultaneous invocation of democratic values. Only democracies are reliable partners in the long run. Such has been the view of liberal internationalism at least since Wilson, with the acknowledgement of evil and hard choices added in during the Cold War by presidents such as Truman and Kennedy and theorists such as Reinhold Neibuhr. The best way to act is with humility, articulating our values but understanding that we cannot impose them on others: "Not every country will follow our particular form of representative democracy, and there will be times our short term interests don't align perfectly with our long term vision." Nothing is simple.

On the other hand, the president feels comfortable justifying violence against Qaddafi and, in quite the imperative paragraph, telling President Assad of Syria just what he has to do over the next few weeks. Bahrain should also shape up and the Iranians are hypocrites. Again, I'm not disagreeing with Obama's positions--I'm pointing out the tension that exists between a call for humility and orders to Assad. The former plays well to the region; the latter plays well at home. President Assad probably doesn't have many friends in the region, but they've also probably had quite enough of the United States imposing its will on various nations.

These two concerns are related, of course. Any narrative history that features American freedom struggles as central to world history will also constitute American choices as the best choices. The president's speech yesterday clearly targeted, whether he meant to or not, an American audience.

I'm not sure that was the best choice, but I also realize that it's rare for a president or a major public figure to balance these concerns effectively, or to constitute democratic values while acknowledging American shortcomings. I think the best example of such an effort was Robert Kennedy's 1966 Day of Affirmation Address in South Africa. The president did not meet that standard yesterday.