Bush has used this rhetorical technique before, as in Campaign 2002
when he created the impression that Senate Democrats who objected to
Bush’s version of a Homeland Security bill were “not interested in the
security of the American people.”
Though employed more subtly in his second Inaugural, the rhetorical
device was back as Bush mixed together platitudes about “freedom” with
oblique references to both his foreign and domestic policies.
The presidential message seemed to be that Americans who complain
about his defiance of international law in Iraq, his assertion of
near-unlimited presidential powers in the War on Terror or his plan to
revamp the Social Security system by shifting it toward individual
retirement accounts are not just Bush opponents but opponents of
freedom.
So on foreign policy, Bush told Americans that “rights must be more
than the grudging concessions of dictators,” as if there are legions of
people out there who would think otherwise. “In the long run, there is
no justice without freedom, and there can be no human rights without
human liberty,” Bush said. Take that, those who think justice can exist
without freedom and that human rights can exist without human liberty.
At another point, Bush may have left some listeners scratching their
heads: “We do not accept the existence of permanent tyranny because we
do not accept the possibility of permanent slavery.” Back off, those of
you who accept permanent slavery or permanent tyranny. More opaquely, he
added: “Liberty will come to those who love it.”
Immortality
Some longtime listeners of Inaugural Addresses might argue that one
or two of these fuzzy aphorisms are to be expected as a President tries
to grab for immortality with a phrase that may last longer than the next
day’s newspapers. But what was unusual about Bush’s speech was that
these vapid truisms represented virtually its entire structure.
Bush used the banalities, in effect, to set up a straw man of
opposition, as if anyone who didn’t agree with his unilateralist foreign
policy was both dishonest and craven. Bush said, for instance, “America
will not pretend that jailed dissidents prefer their chains, or that
women welcome humiliation and servitude, or that any human being aspires
to live at the mercy of bullies.”
Again, Bush is juxtaposing himself as the brave leader who stands up
for truth against his imaginary opponents who supposedly want to pretend
that jailed dissidents prefer their chains or that women welcome
humiliation or that human beings aspire to be bullied.
When Bush wasn’t creating these lopsided debates, he often slipped
into junior-high-school-style rhetoric about freedom: “As hope kindles
hope, millions more will find it. By our efforts, we have lit a fire as
well as a fire in the minds of men. It warms those who feel its power;
it burns those who fight its progress. And one day this untamed fire of
freedom will reach the darkest corners of our world.”
But Bush wasn’t done with his pedantic lecture. “Self-government
relies, in the end, on the governing of the self,” Bush said. “Americans move
forward in every generation by reaffirming all that is good and true
that came before, ideals of justice and conduct that are the same
yesterday, today, and forever.”
And on he went: “In America's ideal of freedom, the exercise of
rights is ennobled by service, and mercy, and a heart for the weak.
Liberty for all does not mean independence from one another. Our nation
relies on men and women who look after a neighbor and surround the lost
with love.”
Idealism?
Though TV pundits and newspaper columnists quickly praised Bush’s
address for its lofty
tone and supposed idealism, many Americans surely were
wondering why Bush was subjecting them to this strange lecture.
At one level, Bush may have simply wanted to wrap his controversial
policies – that have included tolerance of torture and denial of due
process to American citizens he dubs “enemy combatants” – in the cloak
of “freedom.”
But other Americans may have felt that Bush was trying to maneuver
them rhetorically into positions where their criticism of him could be
demonized. Just as Democratic senators – such as triple-war-amputee Sen.
Max Cleland – became politicians who were “not interested in the
security of the American people” in 2002, now Americans who refuse to
follow Bush can be labeled enemies of “freedom.”
Indeed, the most troubling subtext tucked inside Bush’s paean to
“freedom” may have been that the ultimate freedom for Americans today is
their freedom to follow him.