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Peggy Noonan on Obama’s Philadelphia Speech

As noted earlier today, although I thought there were some areas in which Barack Obama’s recent speech on Jeremiah Wright and race in general legitimately could be criticized, I also thought it was a profound attempt to reach across the racial divide. Abigail Thernstrom published a great column at NRO that captures why the speech impressed many of us on the right. Now Peggy Noonan weighs in with another solid analysis from the right:

I thought Barack Obama’s speech was strong, thoughtful and important. Rather beautifully, it was a speech to think to, not clap to. It was clear that’s what he wanted, and this is rare.

It seemed to me as honest a speech as one in his position could give within the limits imposed by politics. As such it was a contribution. We’ll see if it was a success. ...

Noonan points out something about the speech that also struck me as being very important:

Most significantly, Mr. Obama asserted that race in America has become a generational story. The original sin of slavery is a fact, but the progress we have lived through the past 50 years means each generation experiences race differently. Older blacks, like Mr. Wright, remember Jim Crow and were left misshapen by it. Some rose anyway, some did not; of the latter, a “legacy of defeat” went on to misshape another generation. The result: destructive anger that is at times “exploited by politicians” and that can keep African-Americans “from squarely facing our own complicity in our condition.” But “a similar anger exists within segments of the white community.” He speaks of working- and middle-class whites whose “experience is the immigrant experience,” who started with nothing. “As far as they’re concerned, no one handed them anything, they’ve built it from scratch.” “So when they are told to bus their children to a school across town,” when they hear of someone receiving preferences they never received, and “when they’re told their fears about crime in urban neighborhoods are somehow prejudiced,” they feel anger too.

This is all, simply, true. And we are not used to political figures being frank, in this way, in public. For this Mr. Obama deserves deep credit. It is also true the particular whites Obama chose to paint—ethnic, middle class—are precisely the voters he needs to draw in Pennsylvania. It was strategically clever. But as one who witnessed busing in Boston first hand, and whose memories of those days can still bring tears, I was glad for his admission that busing was experienced as an injustice by the white working class. Next step: admitting it was an injustice, period.

As the Biblical maxim tells us, all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.

Noonan also points out another aspect of the speech that many find attractive; namely, after 8 years of a presidency that seemed overtly hostile to amything smacking of intellectualism, Obama gave a speech that flatters its audience intelligence:

The primary rhetorical virtue of the speech can be found in two words, endemic and Faulkner. Endemic is the kind of word political consultants don’t let politicians use because 72% of Americans don’t understand it. This lowest-common-denominator thinking, based on dizzy polling, has long degraded American discourse. When Obama said Mr. Wright wrongly encouraged “a view that sees white racism as endemic,” everyone understood. Because they’re not, actually, stupid. As for Faulkner—well, this was an American politician quoting William Faulkner: “The past isn’t dead and buried. In fact, it isn’t even past.” This is a thought, an interesting one, which means most current politicians would never share it. ...

The speech assumed the audience was intelligent. This was a compliment, and I suspect was received as a gift. It also assumed many in the audience were educated. I was grateful for this, as the educated are not much addressed in American politics.

It’s the kind of thinking speeches Peggy Nonnan used to write.

Finally, Noonan nails one nagging concern:

Mr. Obama painted an America that didn’t summon thoughts of Faulkner but of William Blake. The bankruptcies, the dark satanic mills, the job loss and corporate corruptions. There is of course some truth in his portrait, but why do appeals to the Democratic base have to be so unrelievedly, so unrealistically, bleak?

This connected in my mind to the persistent feeling one has—the fear one has, actually—that the Obamas, he and she, may not actually know all that much about America. They are bright, accomplished, decent, they know all about the yuppie experience, the buppie experience, Ivy League ways, networking. But they bring along with all this—perhaps defensively, to keep their ideological views from being refuted by the evidence of their own lives, or so as not to be embarrassed about how nice fame, success, and power are—habitual reversions to how tough it is to be in America, and to be black in America, and how everyone since the Reagan days has been dying of nothing to eat, and of exploding untreated diseases. America is always coming to them on crutches.

Update: Even Obama’s booster-in-chief on the right agrees with this last point:

There are problems, real problems. Inequality, fostered by globalization, has left many Americans treading water at best. But the vitality of the economy, the astonishing creativity of American industry, especially in tech and pharmaceuticals, the miracle of the Internet, the relative cheapness of items like food and clothing that once consumed far more of the average American’s expenses - these are also integral to the picture. Obama hasn’t conveyed this complicated picture - perhaps because of the primary season. But he should. America needs hope. But it is not currently hopeless. And its recent past, despite the disasters of the past eight years, has had as many highs as lows.