Barack Obama holdt en tale den anden dag i Philadelphia. Måske var den udsprunget af hans præsts hadefulde ord. Måske var den ledt på vej af angrebet fra modkandidatens nu forhenværende kampagnemedarbejder. Måske er den spiret af mange ting og gødet af endnu flere. Gør man sig den ulejlighed at lytte til den, skal man i hvert fald være meget tunghør eller forudindtaget for blot at høre den som en nødvendig kommentar til præstens og kampagnemedarbejderens tåbeligheder.
Nogle kommentatorer af anløben observans og tvivlsom begavelse vil sikkert blive ved med at mene, at omstændighederne tvang ham til at tale om race – og at hans opportunisme afholdt ham fra at fordømme nogen som helst. Og andre kynikere vil – sikkert uden at have læst eller hørt andet end uddrag af denne og andre af hans taler – mene, at det sgu hverken gør fra eller til, hvem der bliver USAs næste præsident.
Jeg ville ønske, der var flere politikere som ham. Han er ikke blot begavet og en fandens god taler. Han giver mig også min ungdoms tabte tro på, at man går ind i politik for at stille sig i en større sags tjeneste, tilbage. Han virker ægte, og han retter sig ikke ind efter laveste fællesnævner eller taler berøringsangst om ingenting:
…The fact that so many people are surprised to hear that anger in some
of Reverend Wright’s sermons simply reminds us of the old truism that
the most segregated hour in American life occurs on Sunday morning.
That anger is not always productive; indeed, all too often it distracts
attention from solving real problems; it keeps us from squarely facing
our own complicity in our condition, and prevents the African-American
community from forging the alliances it needs to bring about real
change. But the anger is real; it is powerful; and to simply wish it
away, to condemn it without understanding its roots, only serves to
widen the chasm of misunderstanding that exists between the races.
In fact, a similar anger exists within segments of the white
community. Most working- and middle-class white Americans don’t feel
that they have been particularly privileged by their race. Their
experience is the immigrant experience – as far as they’re concerned,
no one’s handed them anything, they’ve built it from scratch. They’ve
worked hard all their lives, many times only to see their jobs shipped
overseas or their pension dumped after a lifetime of labor. They are
anxious about their futures, and feel their dreams slipping away; in an
era of stagnant wages and global competition, opportunity comes to be
seen as a zero sum game, in which your dreams come at my expense. So
when they are told to bus their children to a school across town; when
they hear that an African American is getting an advantage in landing a
good job or a spot in a good college because of an injustice that they
themselves never committed; when they’re told that their fears about
crime in urban neighborhoods are somehow prejudiced, resentment builds
over time.
Like the anger within the black community, these resentments aren’t
always expressed in polite company. But they have helped shape the
political landscape for at least a generation. Anger over welfare and
affirmative action helped forge the Reagan Coalition. Politicians
routinely exploited fears of crime for their own electoral ends. Talk
show hosts and conservative commentators built entire careers unmasking
bogus claims of racism while dismissing legitimate discussions of
racial injustice and inequality as mere political correctness or
reverse racism.
Just as black anger often proved counterproductive, so have these
white resentments distracted attention from the real culprits of the
middle class squeeze – a corporate culture rife with inside dealing,
questionable accounting practices, and short-term greed; a Washington
dominated by lobbyists and special interests; economic policies that
favor the few over the many. And yet, to wish away the resentments of
white Americans, to label them as misguided or even racist, without
recognizing they are grounded in legitimate concerns – this too widens
the racial divide, and blocks the path to understanding…
Jeg synes, jeg hører en stor statsmand tale her. Og jeg synes, han taler om noget, der rækker ud over en amerikansk valgkamp – ja, ud over amerikansk indenrigspolitik.
Når jeg lytter til Hillary Clinton, hører jeg blot en politiker.