Obama passes a test of leadership with both candor, grace
Last August, during an appearance before the National Association of Black Journalists, Barack Obama was asked whether he'd lead the nation in a "conversation about race" if he were elected president. He demurred, suggesting that Americans were more interested in having a president who would fight terrorism and economic decline than one who acted as therapist-in-chief.
It was a pragmatic response from the man trying to become the nation's first black president. He'd never win over substantial numbers of white or brown or even black voters if he seemed overly focused on America's racial divide. But the issue of race has, of course, swirled around his campaign from the beginning. It has manifested itself oddly -- in early questions about whether he was "black enough"; patronizingly -- in Bill Clinton's attempt to ghettoize him after his South Carolina victory; and forthrightly -- in frequent references to the "historic" nature of his candidacy. Given the reality of race-consciousness in America, how could it be otherwise?
So the day had to come when the issue of race claimed center stage. And so it did, propelled by some of the more intemperate, scripturally challenged and offensive remarks of Obama's former minister, Jeremiah Wright.
Obama may have wished to avoid this moment, but when he found he could not, he handled it with courage and candor and grace. If this controversy was the first major test of Obama's leadership skills, then he passed easily, delivering a speech that was true to the essence of his claims about his candidacy. He has built his campaign on the belief that American voters are sick of being manipulated by demagoguery, tired of being swift-boated. His speech in Philadelphia was for those voters discerning enough to embrace complexities, savvy enough to see past sound bites and wise enough to reward truth-telling.
"Race is an issue that I believe this nation cannot afford to ignore right now. ... The fact is that the comments that have been made and the issues that have surfaced over the last few weeks reflect the complexities of race in this country that we've never really worked through -- a part of our union that we have yet to perfect. And if we walk away now, if we simply retreat to our respective corners, we will never be able to come together to solve challenges like health care or education or the need to find good jobs for every American," he said.
Obama might easily have handled the moment differently. He might have simply used Wright for his "Sister Souljah" moment, as Bill Clinton used inflammatory remarks by the black rap artist to signal to whites his rejection of black extremism. Obama might have referred to his white grandmother only as a campaign-safe caricature -- loving, kind and endlessly tolerant. He might have omitted any reference to the legitimacy of black anger, which frightens many whites.
But he refused to pander or offer safe, poll-tested bromides. He repudiated Wright's remarks -- "(Wright) used incendiary language to express views ... that denigrate both the greatness and the goodness of our nation" -- but he didn't disown him. He noted that his white grandmother, who, he said, loves him dearly, sometimes uttered racial stereotypes that made him "cringe." And he acknowledged the legitimacy of both black anger and white resentment.
It's possible Obama placed the wrong bet. Straight talk and tough truths may have no place on the stump. It may be that campaigns are still won by those willing to kneecap their opponents with vicious ads and ugly rumors. Voters may prefer focus-grouped slogans to uncomfortable facts.
But it certainly was encouraging to hear from a politician willing to take his chances with a pander-free hour at a difficult moment in his campaign. It doesn't happen often.
© 2008, Universal Press Syndicate