Lend Me Your Ears: Great Speeches in History (144 page)

2. Even the most powerful rulers are subject to law—written or customary. Ever since the majestic structure of Roman law, Western societies have insisted that their governments were based on law, not on personal will. This concept was amplified during the Christian era to include the idea that a divine law administered by a separate hierarchy was beyond the control of temporal authority. No other civilization has developed such absolute concepts of justice and such an insistence on the limits of temporal power.

3. In Western societies officials must justify themselves by service—the very word “minister” derives from that concept.

4. To be a Roman citizen was to be free above all; citizenship indeed was called
libertas Romana
. Indeed, the history of the West can be interpreted as a never-ending struggle for freedom in ever new forms; in the freedom for citizens inside the thousands of towns formed all over Europe in the tenth and eleventh centuries; in the religious liberty expressed in Luther’s idea of the “freedom of a Christian”; in the Dutch struggle for national freedom against Spain; in the limitations of royal
power first by the aristocracy and then by the people culminating in the American and French revolutions with their affirmation of the rights of men.

The battles for freedom may have had local origins, but the underlying concept was in each case universal. This ancient city, built on the ruins of a Roman spa, participated in that epic theme of Western history since before Europe forgot that it was European.

The united Europe of Charlemagne disappeared in the centuries thereafter amidst the selfishness, the wars, and the suffering that accompanied the fragmentation of Europe. But the ideal remained even when the rise of the nation-state seemed to doom Europe to permanent fragmentation.

In the fullness of time these values spread across the Atlantic into my adopted country, where, unconstrained by national rivalries and unencrusted by tradition, they acquired a drive, even an innocence that history’s legacy did not allow on the old continent. In that philosophical sense the frontier of Europe rests on the Pacific coast of North America.

In terms of that tradition, European unity and Atlantic partnership are not antithetical but complementary; they are not simply practical necessities—though that undoubtedly plays an important part. They are, above all, an expression of basic and ancient values which have been reborn in the anguish of the Western civil wars of the first half of the twentieth century. They have taught us that no goal is worthy of unconditional commitment—not even peace—unless it is founded on justice and liberty.

We can take pride in what has been achieved in some forty years of common efforts. We need only compare the speeches of prizewinners in the early fifties with what has been said in the eighties to measure how far Europe has come in forging its unity and gaining self-confidence.

We need only compare the sense of imminent danger of that earlier period with the current debate over the modalities of arms control to realize to what extent security has come to be taken for granted on both sides of the Atlantic.

But history knows no resting places; what does not advance must sooner or later decline.

European unity was forged in the crucible of the suffering by two world wars—so unexpected a shock after the complacent faith of the nineteenth century in uninterrupted progress—and the economic chaos that followed. Atlantic partnership was spawned by the fear of aggression by a totalitarian Soviet state. But what is Europe’s role now that internecine conflicts have been largely put aside and prosperity has been achieved? What is the goal of the Atlantic enterprise in an era of negotiation?

In short, what do we now understand by peace? What do we understand by security? What do we understand by progress?

This is not the occasion to attempt detailed answers. But let me state a few general principles.

When the Atlantic Alliance was formed, it was assumed that the threat to peace was similar to recently familiar totalitarian phenomena: a large-scale invasion across sovereign borders with the avowed aim of domination of the world by military means. Since then, it has become clear that the Soviet challenge is both more complex and more subtle. It rests on what Marxist-Leninists consider the correlation of forces, but that correlation can be shifted gradually and patiently by pressure, by ambiguity, and occasionally by exploiting the West’s desire for peace and its diversity of views on how to achieve that end.

Western leaders have been responding to their publics’ desire for peace by constantly expressing their readiness for negotiation; they have not always been equally clear about the program for these negotiations. Sensitivity to public pressures is so great that militant minorities have occasionally achieved a disproportionate influence. Gradually the belief has gained ground that internal Soviet transformations will solve the problem of peace and the West’s own lack of clarity as to objectives.

That a more flexible leadership has come to power in the Kremlin is beyond doubt. In foreign policy it has—so far, at least—been able to obscure the increasingly evident structural dilemmas of a centrally planned society by great skill in public relations. It has been more successful than it should be in promoting divisions in Europe and weakening the cohesion of the Atlantic Alliance. This is because the West has not answered for itself this fundamental question: Are concessions justified by Soviet internal developments, or should they be analyzed primarily in terms of Soviet foreign policy conduct?

Some argue that Gorbachev needs a success to sustain himself. The danger is that success so defined is likely to be inimical to the West. Perhaps Soviet domestic reform will lead automatically to a more conciliatory Soviet policy. It is equally possible that Gorbachev seeks to achieve maneuvering room for domestic reform by demonstrating to foreign policy hard-liners that flexible tactics are more effective than crude threats in tilting the correlations of forces against the West.

I do not choose among these possibilities except to point out that to gear foreign policy to a psychological assessment of Soviet leaders leaves the West vulnerable to sudden changes in Soviet leadership and the Soviets unconstrained in the political competition, in time perhaps even
in the military field. Exclusive preoccupation with arms control involves the risk that arms control becomes a safety valve for political pressure rather than a means for easing tensions. Paradoxically such attitudes may keep the West from establishing whether Gorbachev, in the end, is willing to be as imaginative in foreign as in domestic policy.

Peace requires, above all, a vision of its content. The West must, to be sure, take into account Soviet concerns—since no agreement that fails to take the mutual interest into account can last—but the ultimate justification is the compatibility of any peace program with our values and our security….

I would be less than honest if I did not emphasize that I have never been more worried about trends which, just as in the days after Charlemagne, appear at what should be the moment of our greatest success. If Europe permits itself to be tempted by disguised neutralism and America revels in disguised isolationism, all that has been celebrated in this hall for a generation will be in jeopardy.

Neither Europe nor America can evade any longer a fundamental review of their security policy and ultimately of their foreign policy. Recent events, precisely because they are irreversible, have accelerated what technology would have imposed in any event—a reconsideration of the comfortable assumptions that destructiveness can be equated with security but also of the shallow counterargument that one can escape the nuclear age by returning to a technology that produced unceasing warfare for centuries. Western leaders must stop pretending that nuclear weapons can be abolished; too many exist in too many countries; too much knowledge will remain in the minds of scientists for this to be feasible. But equally they should not rely on nuclear weapons to solve all their problems.

In walking this fine line, America has had the principal responsibility of leadership. But in the period ahead the contribution of a united Europe is essential. A one-sided relationship will lead to the demoralization of both sides of the Atlantic. Europe must build a structure for the consideration of strategic issues either by building on the WEU or by some other mechanism, and America must support this. A useful symbolic step in this direction would be to make the next NATO commander a European.

And beyond strategy there is lacking an adequate mechanism within the Atlantic Alliance to discuss conflicts outside NATO. This prevents either a common position or even a procedure to define permissible disagreement.

The West is now suffering from the consequences of past successes. A
generation of peace has produced on the European side of the Atlantic the temptations of emancipation from superpower relationships; on the American side there are signs of the reemergence of historic isolationism—especially as the country’s center of gravity shifts westward. But America, the daughter of Europe, can no more turn its back on its heritage than Europe can seek salvation in an illusory equidistance from the so-called superpowers, of which in fact Europe should be one. The West, whose historic tragedy it has been to sacrifice its spiritual unity on the altar of shortsighted self-interest, must not repeat what this prize celebrates having transcended.

Much has been built in the generation since this prize was first given. The building must not stop, especially as the challenges ahead of us are far less daunting than the road already traversed. No one any longer believes that our adversaries represent the wave of the future. No generation has had a better prospect for building a better and more secure world.

But we risk wasting our opportunity by an obsession with the tactical and the short-term, by domestic politics and by confusing the plausible with the true.

The great German statesman Bismarck said, “World history with its great transformations does not come upon us with the even speed of a railway train. No, it moves forward in spurts but then with irresistible force. One must take care whether one can discern the Lord’s march through history, seek to grasp the hem of his cloak and let oneself be swept along the greatest distance possible.”

Modern politics too often produces an orgy of self-righteousness amidst a cacophony of sounds. Is it too much to ask for a moment of silent reflection to permit us to listen for God’s footsteps so that we can grasp the hem of his cloak?

No generation can do more.

But also it dare not do less.

Ronald Reagan’s Vice-President, derided as a “wimp” and a “preppie,” trailed the Democratic nominee, Michael Dukakis, by 17 points in opinion polls when he entered the New Orleans Convention Hall on August 18, 1988.

George H. W. Bush (with the aid of Reagan speechwriter Peggy Noonan) defined himself and his philosophy with his acceptance speech, which helped change the poll ratings dramatically. The speech clarified the differences between himself and his opponent on criminal punishment, the perception of patriotism (some civil libertarians had objected to the recitation of the Pledge of Allegiance in classrooms), and taxation: a key line was “Read my lips, no new taxes.” (“Read my lips” was a vogue emphasizer, showing the speaker to be familiar with youthful lingo. A similar device, “Go ahead, make my day”—a movie tough-guy challenge parodied by President Reagan—was used subtly to kid about his dissimilarity with his old boss: “Go ahead, make my twenty-four-hour time period.” Subtleties rarely get across in convention hall speeches.)

The “mission” theme, providing a bridge between his combat service and goals for the nation, was a subtlety that worked; the pledge at the conclusion was a sledgehammer blow to widen the difference on the Pledge of Allegiance “issue.”

***

I ACCEPT YOUR
nomination for president. I mean to run hard, to fight hard, to stand on the issues—and I mean to win.

There are a lot of great stories in politics about the underdog winning, and this is going to be one of them.

And we’re going to win with the help of Senator Dan Quayle of
Indiana, a young leader who has become a forceful voice in preparing America’s workers for the labor force of the future, what a superb job he did here tonight. Born in the middle of the century, in the middle of America, and holding the promise of the future—I’m proud to have Dan Quayle at my side.

Many of you have asked, “When will this campaign really begin?” Well, I’ve come to this hall to tell you, and to tell America: tonight is the night.

For seven and a half years, I have helped the president conduct the most difficult job on earth. Ronald Reagan asked for, and received, my candor. He never asked for, but he did receive, my loyalty. And those of you who saw the president’s speech this week, and listened to the simple truth of his words, will understand my loyalty all these years.

But now you must see me for what I am: the Republican candidate for president of the United States. And now I turn to the American people to share my hopes and intentions, and why and where I wish to lead.

And so tonight is for big things. But I’ll try to be fair to the other side. I’ll try to hold my charisma in check. And I reject the temptation to engage in personal references. My approach this evening is, as Sergeant Joe Friday used to say, “Just the facts, ma’am.”

And after all, after all, the facts are on our side.

I seek the presidency for a single purpose, a purpose that has motivated millions of Americans across the years and the ocean voyages. I seek the presidency to build a better America. It’s that simple, and that big.

I’m a man who sees life in terms of missions—missions defined and missions completed. And when I was a torpedo bomber pilot they defined the mission for us. And before we took off we all understood that no matter what, you try to reach the target. And there’ve been other missions for me—Congress and China, the CIA. But I am here tonight, and I am your candidate, because the most important work of my life is to complete the mission that we started in 1980. How, and how do we complete it? We build on it.