Oh, to be the proverbial fly on the wall (in the Oval)
I had the opportunity to get close up to my preferred international leader last week when I settled down to watch US President Obama deliver his final State of the Union address. I have an insatiable habit of trying to go behind the scenes to make my own assessment of the personae of celebrities and public figures before we see them in their assumed roles on stage. I want to know what makes them tick, their innermost feelings before the curtain goes up, and what they are saying or thinking about the audience.
For example, I was in a crowd of 30,000 at the National Stadium in 1985 when evangelist Jimmy Swaggart visited Jamaica at the heights of his ministry. He had everyone spellbound by his message and his singing. The entire audience prayed and wept with him as he spoke feelingly and lovingly from his pulpit mounted in the centre of the football field.
I was sitting close to the McDonald Tunnel and, as he made his exit with his entourage, I moved as near as I could to the passage to get my close-up of this iconic preacher. As he passed below me I remember looking straight into his eyes and being almost overcome with a wave of sympathy as I saw not a powerful public speaker, but a face exhibiting the frailness and weakness of human nature.
Mark you, he was probably drained by the outpouring of his message to so many (the crowd was huge) and I even wondered if he was a bit scared of their dependency on him to deliver to the maximum.
It was an incredible feeling to see that this man who had spoken with such confidence and faith on the platform could look so contrite on the ground.
Jimmy Swaggart was always an emotional human being; a crier unashamed of his tears. I confess that after that brief and one-sided encounter, I wasn’t too surprised to hear that some years later he had fallen prey to weaknesses of the flesh which drove him, for a while, out of the church and from the mission field.
So when President Obama is giving such an historic address, I am not content with just watching him deliver from the lectern. From early in the evening I was glued to the television as they gave us insights on his preparation at the White House, his speech themes, the route to Capitol Hill, and so on.
When I saw him being ushered into the back seat of the presidential limousine with his beautiful wife Michelle beside him, a lump came to my throat.
Can you believe it, here was a black man, the most powerful human being in the world, heading towards an engagement with history, watched by millions across the world, and with hundreds of the most important people in America patiently and respectfully awaiting his arrival. I wished I was there to watch as they all stood and applauded this scion of slaves who has made his indelible mark on history, achieved the unattainable, and performed his task with dignity, aplomb, mastery, and outstanding leadership.
As he made his speech, his audience followed every utterance, every nuance, every expression.
They applauded, they ignored, they laughed, they kept their silence; especially Speaker Paul Ryan, whose mouth, in Jamaican parlance, was a mile long during the speech. But for that one hour America was Obama’s, and when he leaves office we may yet acknowledge that from the point of view of his just being there at the lectern, that this was America’s finest hour.
What about my fly-on-the-wall position, where I really would have liked to be in that limousine to hear what the presidential couple was saying to each other before they got to the capitol. It was a big night on the Hill, and the fashion houses in the city would have had a ball weaving the finery and elegant evening wear for the elite of Washington.
Obama’s suit would have been carefully selected months before, so too Michelle’s outfit and hairstyle. The police motorcycle escorts and the secret service agents would have been all fully rehearsed. Obama would have been coached to know who to expect to greet at the corner seats along the aisles, and even his diet prior to the speech would have been carefully scrutinised by Michelle so that he would be at ease on the podium.
As a fly on the wall in the White House I would love to have kept company with Cody Keenan, Obama’s chief speech writer. I imagine he was up until early Tuesday morning in the corner room of the basement, making final, frantic edits to his boss’s last State of the Union to be delivered that night. Like all writers Kenan confesses to butterflies in the stomach. “An equal mix of hope and fear” is what he told
NBC News, describing the moment he starts working on a first draft.
Keenan emphasises that any big presidential speech is the result of collaboration among a large number of White House employees, including policymakers, researchers and other writers. And the final edits are always the president’s. “The scariest part is when you click ‘send’; you know, when I send it to him.” And he doesn’t relax until the president actually steps on the podium. “Once he starts delivering it, I am totally relieved.”
Some presidents and prime ministers are their own speech writers. Some don’t take too kindly to drafts and, if they do get a typed document, tend to throw it away or discard it the moment they connect with the audience. I am reliably told by a fly on the wall connected to me that Michael Manley was like that. He would accept corrections, but only after much debate. Dramatic announcements without prior consultation with his press officer, or even his colleagues, was the norm. The announcement of free education in 1974 being a prime example.
Not so his father, ‘Daddy’ Norman Manley, who, as told to us by the late Professor Rex Nettleford, left behind a body of speeches and writings which reflected his deepest concerns and highest visions for his country. I am fortunate to own a copy of Nettleford’s book,
Manley and the New Jamaica, selected speeches and writings 1938-1968. It is a fantastic compilation on a comprehensive range of subjects relating to politics, democracy, self-government, nationhood, economics, and the rule of law. There are timeless lessons in the poignancy of his gracious acceptance of political defeat, his visionary conception of the building of a new Jamaica in the 1930s and 40s, his pragmatism as he shaped far reaching plans and programmes as chief minister and premier.
Norman Manley in another life would have made a great State of the Union speech. There are striking similarities between President Obama’s lecture last Tuesday, and Manley’s farewell address to the People’ s National Party in 1969. Like the president, he abandoned the form taken in previous years when he concentrated on a review of the state of the nation. Instead, he used the opportunity to appeal to the best ideals of unity, loyalty, standards and principles that could guide Jamaica in the years to come.
“May I remind you that it is a profound error to forget that the present derives from the past. I hope that tomorrow’s leaders will not make the mistake of concentrating on a sort of witch hunt into errors of the past, but will rather learn from those errors while they concentrate on a comprehension of today and the future paths that need to be chosen.”
And the message for tomorrow: “That Jamaica must restore to her sense of independence and nationhood a basis of pride and hope, respect of dignity and self-confidence.”
Ed Coyne, a former general manager of Kaiser Bauxite, and for whom I edited speeches while in office, continues to write and recently sent us his review on Noranda Bauxite’s contemporary community outreach. I take the liberty of quoting from Ed’s letter: “Reading about Noranda’s programme I reminded myself of the goals of every sound, long-term community relations programme. To put the thought in context in a democracy if you abuse people’s rights, or are perceived to have abused those rights, then your right to continue that abuse will eventually be curtailed.
“The long-term goal of a business company’s community relations outreach must be to create that atmosphere that will allow the community to be pleased to allow you to operate in their midst. Or, at minimum, not to actively oppose your presence.” The former GM, who retired in 1986, went on to say, “The needs of Jamaica and its people have changed many times over the years. I am delighted to see that Noranda and other private sector companies in Jamaica have been quick to recognise the changing needs of their communities and are vigorously responding to those needs in education, agriculture, employment, youth development, and sports.” Our friends overseas still continue to listen and take a keen interest in Jamaica’s affairs.




