“Is eloquence overrated?”
Journalist Peter Applebome asked that question in yesterday’s New York Times.
I don’t know if there is a definitive answer. Hillary Clinton took a stab at it last week by quoting an observation she borrowed from Mario Cuomo: “You campaign in poetry, but you govern in prose.”
That’s a neat epigram, but is it true? Did Abraham Lincoln, Franklin Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy or Ronald Reagan reserve all their eloquence for the campaign trail? Did they make no memorable speeches while they were engaged in actually governing the country?
I’m more inclined to agree with Ted Sorensen who, according to the Times article, believes that there is a real link between inspirational oratory and inspirational leadership.
Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address amounted to a second founding of America, an America in which all men were truly created equal and endowed with inalienable rights. Franklin Roosevelt’s first inaugural address assured Depression-ravaged Americans that we had nothing to fear but fear itself, and his fireside chats helped to sustain national morale during the desperate days that followed. John Kennedy’s inaugural address fired the idealism of a generation. Ronald Reagan challenged Mikhail Gorbachev to tear down the Berlin Wall, and it happened.
The most eloquent candidate does not always win the White House. Compare the speeches of Dwight Eisenhower with those of Adlai Stevenson, for example. But eloquence is an invaluable asset to any leader.
In 1897, as a young army officer in India, Winston Churchill wrote an essay called, “The Scaffolding of Rhetoric.” In this essay he made an observation about the power of oratory that was to prove profoundly true in his own career, and the career of many a great leader before and since. He said this:
“Of all the talents bestowed upon men, none is so precious as the gift of oratory. He who enjoys it wields a power more durable than that of a great king. He is an independent force in the world. Abandoned by his party, betrayed by his friends, stripped of his offices, whoever can command his power is still formidable. Many have watched its effects. A meeting of grave citizens, protected by all the cynicism of these prosaic days, is unable to resist its influence. From unresponsive silence they advance to grudging approval and thence to complete agreement with the speaker. The cheers become louder and more frequent; the enthusiasm momentarily increases; until they are convulsed by emotions they are unable to control and shaken by passions of which they have resigned the direction.”
Is eloquence overrated? Perhaps. But it’s still hard to refute Churchill’s argument. And maybe that's the best answer of all.