Sometimes a person comes up with the right words at just the right time: the result of good timing, a sense of irony, and an apparent simplicity that may yield a deeper truth.
Responses to others can be kind or cutting, playful or hurtful. They are at their worst when one of the parties can hide behind anonymity. One effect is that our political climate has become coarser and more toxic. It doesn’t help that our President seems to have no sense of humor.
Here are just a few favorites of the whittier kind heard from politicians, past and present, residing on both sides of the Atlantic.
Presidential candidate Cory Booker is frequently asked about race as a factor in the current political climate. One recent response: “I’ve had lots of crazy things said to me, like, ‘Is America ready for another black president?’ And I’m confident it’s never been asked of a white candidate, ‘Is America ready for another white president?’”
[Nancy Astor and Winston Churchill had a notoriously rocky relationship in and out of the British House of Commons. Both were sharp witted and ready for a quick retort.] Churchill once asked her for some advice on how to proceed in the House of Commons. She responded with a simple “Why don’t you come sober, Prime Minister?”In another exchange that supposedly took place at a party, Lady Astor said to Churchill, “If you were my husband, I’d poison your tea,”to which he responded, “Madam, if you were my wife, I’d drink it.”
[In a recent exchange in Parliament the loquacious MP Anna Soubry dressed down government minister Michael Gove over his support of Brexit. She ended her statement with a pointed question, to which Gove responded,] “The right Honorable lady is a distinguished criminal barrister. Now I know what it is like to be cross-examined by her. But I also understand why Lawyers are paid by the hour.”
[President Obama loved to work with writers to come up with quips for the Annual White House Correspondents Dinner. He seemed to enjoy sparring with journalists, perhaps because he was a successful writer before assuming the Presidency. He also relished quips playing off of absurd Republican assertions about his personal history.] A favorite: ”These days, I look in the mirror and I have to admit, I’m not the strapping young Muslim socialist that I used to be.”
And there’s also this: ”The fact is I really do respect the press. I recognize that the press and I have different jobs to do. My job is to be President; your job is to keep me humble. Frankly, I think I’m doing my job better.”
John Kennedy won the presidential election in 1960 by a close margin. Charges during the campaign that his wealthy father was rigging the result led to this observation by Kennedy, delivered in his usual understated style: “I just received the following wire from my generous Daddy: ‘Dear Jack, Don’t buy a single vote more than is necessary. I’ll be damned if I’m going to pay for a landslide.'”
His utterances come with a vast victimology that ranges from the press, to former friends and GOP allies, to loyal members of his cabinet.
Our President seems unnaturally sustained by a rhetoric of grievance. Any event that calls for a public comment includes lines that alert us to his belief that he has been the victim of grave injustices. It hardly matters where he is: speaking to the boy scouts, holding a press conference with foreign leaders, in the comfortable womb of a Fox News, or acting out a kind of sundowners syndrome in reverse, with incoherent morning tweets mixing self-pity and verbal abuse. And so one morning we learn that it’s “sad” that even Republicans “do very little to protect their President.” (Tweet of July 23). That self-referential quote is typical and also concerning in its switch to the Nixonian third person. With these kinds of utterances comes a vast victimology that ranges from the press, to former friends and opponents, to loyal members of his own cabinet.
Presidents typically emphasize transcendent values in their comments.
This is all uncharacteristic coming from the person who holds what was until recently the position of “leader of the free world.” And its 180 degrees from where a President’s traditional public rhetoric should be.
Presidents typically emphasize transcendent values in their words. John Kennedy’s quotable Inaugural Address called on Americans to fulfill the nation’s basic goodness. Trump’s will be remembered for his offensive description of America as a dystopian land of “carnage,” a tasteless dig at his predecessor seated a few feet away.
I can remember when the nation was shocked to hear a president level criticism of an American industry. Presidents didn’t do such things. The occasion was the 1962 decision of United States Steel and others to raise the price on its basic product. President Kennedy feared it would feed inflation. In a press conference he bristled with frustration at the news. He thought he had an understanding with company leaders, but was blindsided by the announced price rise anyway. His annoyance was the headline of the day.
Even so, we don’t remember JFK as an angry man. The steel issue consumed no more than a few moments in a press conference. Instead, we remember the countless times he used the presidential pulpit to celebrate American institutions, innovators and ordinary citizens. He had the grace and apparent modesty to let his actions speak for themselves. And we had the sense that he was bigger than his small frame; a charismatic if cautious tactician able to absorb setbacks without demanding that others notice.
For many younger Americans like myself Kennedy was also the model of cool, the presidential equivalent of a musician like Miles Davis or the young actor Ben Gazzara. Their personas were slightly enigmatic and their words were measured, understated to let their talent do most of the talking. They are a long way from the needy billionaire installed in the White House who is defined by his daily whining.
