The Democratic Party has had a good week. I’ll start that again – the Democratic Party has had an amazingly good week.
Not so long ago, the Democrats seemed down, if not actually out. Now, they’re not merely pulling ahead in the polls – they seem to have recaptured that vital but elusive thing: hope.
Those inside the hall in Chicago for the Democratic National Convention were treated to a series of impressive and moving speeches from, among others, Barack and Michelle Obama, Hillary and Bill Clinton, Tim Walz and – yes – Joe Biden. The man so recently written off by many as a doddering geriatric was the star on the first night, as he passed on the flame to his vice-president, Kamala Harris.
The secret to these rhetorical triumphs lies in three words with origins in ancient Greece: , and . The meanings are simple but crucial to successful oratory – as the famed Greek philosopher Aristotle first pointed out in The Art Of Rhetoric.
As deployed by Aristotle, refers to character – both the moral character of the speaker and, as we develop the idea further, the aspersions cast on the character of his or her opponent.
We saw this in the homely presentation of vice-presidential candidate “Coach” Walz, who presented himself as a father, a neighbour, and the giver of pre-match pep talks. And we saw it in Michelle Obama’s attacks on Donald Trump, whom she portrayed as a purveyor of misogynistic, racist lies. She argued that Trump’s narrow view of the world made him feel threatened by the existence of two hard-working, highly educated, successful people who happen to be black. She at once exposed Trump’s character while building up her and her husband’s success – without appearing too boastful.
signifies emotion – anything that makes your audience feel good about themselves or generates negative emotions about people outside the group. Pete Buttigieg, the transport secretary, demonstrated mastery of this technique when he attacked Trump’s deputy, J.D. Vance, for suggesting that political leaders without children (such as Harris) lack a physical stake in the country’s future.
Buttigieg, a former naval officer, pointed out that when he deployed to Afghanistan, he didn’t have kids. “Some of the men and women who went outside the wire with me did not have kids,” he continued, “but let me tell you, our commitment to the future of this country was nothing if not physical.”
This was a powerful way of generating feelings of patriotism, and linking them to personal sacrifice.
Last but not least is , which signifies reason. This doesn’t necessarily mean arguments that are well-founded in logic, but rather an appeal to a sense of fact-based argumentation. Here, Bill Clinton won the prize, showing (as he has so often done before) that figures and statistics don’t have to be dry.
Quoting US employment numbers, Clinton quipped that he had to check them three times. Since the end of the cold war in 1989, he said, the US has created about 51 million new jobs: “Even I couldn’t believe it. What’s the score? Democrats: 50, Republicans: one.”
This statistic is indeed correct – even if it would have benefitted from more context to explain what at first sight look like improbable numbers.
American dream
In all, it’s been a series of remarkable performances – and I haven’t even mentioned Oprah Winfrey, Illinois governor J.B. Pritzker, or the presidential nominee herself.
Presenting herself as “no stranger to unlikely journeys”, Harris said her path from being the daughter of immigrant students to becoming vice-president was a tale that “could only be written in the greatest nation on Earth”. It was a classic example of linking plucky underdog personal storytelling to the broader narrative of American exceptionalism.
Collectively, the convention speakers, while making it look effortless, succeeded in achieving a very difficult balance – that is, the balance between hope and fear.
For a long time, Democrats have, with justification, focused on the threat that Trump poses to the future of democracy. Yet, as the experience of the Remain side in the 2016 Brexit referendum showed, a rational case highlighting the dangers posed by the other side is not in itself enough to mobilise popular enthusiasm. It has to be matched with optimism and a credible-sounding plan to build a better future for the country.
Democrats haven’t given up on warning about Trump, but they are doing this more effectively than before, by labelling him as “weird”. At the same time, they are offering a positive message of progress, as well as appearing energised and, frankly, a lot more fun to be with than the increasingly dark-seeming GOP.
However, it shouldn’t be imagined that the political party’s fortunes can be transformed merely by skilful manipulation of some classical rhetorical terms. The Democrats wouldn’t be in their current happy situation were it not for Biden’s bold, if belated, decision not to run for a second term.
So, if Harris wins in November, she may have reason to credit another ancient Greek concept: . This is the thing that every politician wants to arrive for them, and then to exploit – it means “the opportune moment”.
