Labor orators who define a point in time
A TRULY great speech shuns spin for inspiration and is vital for democracy.
IT was late on Friday afternoon, May 8, 1942, and the House of Representatives was almost empty. John Curtin entered the house. At 3.59 pm, he moved the adjournment and gave one of the greatest speeches ever delivered by an Australian prime minister.
"I have received a communique from the commander-in-chief of the Allied forces in the southwest Pacific," Curtin said. "A great naval battle is proceeding." Japanese ships were heading south and Australia was under threat of invasion. "The events that are taking place today are of critical importance to the conduct of the war," he said.
Suddenly, people ran into the chamber. "Nobody can tell what the result of the engagement may be," he warned. Every Australian, he said, must do "their duty to the nation".
Stunned silence and shock was followed by tears from politicians and journalists alike. Curtin's press secretary said it was his "finest speech".
As a political orator, Curtin is without peer. He could energise audiences with the power of his rhetoric and convince any sceptic with the compelling force of his arguments. If the occasion demanded solemnity, he could speak with deep feeling and sensitivity. He could deliver a moving eulogy or bitterly denounce his opponents with vigour. At times of great peril, he quoted poetry.
VIDEO: Labor's greatest speeches
His delivery could be mesmerising. He would raise and lower his voice. He would button and unbutton his jacket. He would punch the air with his hands and sweep them from side to side as he pivoted to look at one section of the audience or another.
"His voice rasped in emphasis, sobbed in emotion," wrote a journalist describing one speech. "He shouted. He whispered. He spoke of the greatness of the Labor Party's past, the grandeur of its future. Hard-bitten delegates fell into a trance and when he stopped, they cheered."
Curtin affirms Benjamin Disraeli's dictum that, "With words, we govern." The words that join together to make a speech reflect the oldest continuing form of political communication.
It is the most effective way to present an argument and to link together policies, programs and philosophies into a framework for persuasion.
It provides a political compass to navigate by.
It gives coherence and depth to the swirling mix of political tactics, strategies and policies that a political leader deals with and the citizenry try to make sense of. No leader of a political movement, no candidate for political office, no party leader or prime minister can really succeed without being an effective speechmaker.
But a speech is more than a political tool or form of communication; its impact and its importance can be far greater. A speech can define a point in time, help to explain and give meaning to events as they turn, and serve as a signpost marking a decisive moment in the affairs of a nation.
Political speeches can be the springboard to announce a new policy, launch a campaign, act as a rallying call for action, summon a higher purpose, inspire a new movement for change, break a taboo or slay a sacred cow, chart a new course or bring a journey to an end, sound a warning bell for the future, remember the past, expound a philosophy, send forces into battle, celebrate a victory or mourn a defeat, or provide consolation in times of despair. Our leaders lead through their words.
A truly great speech quickens the pulse, electrifies an audience and binds that audience to the speaker's cause. Elevated eloquence can make a speech soar. Prose can become poetry. Words and sentences can linger in the air and dance in our minds long after a speech has ended. Pictures can be painted that are unforgettable. Arguments and ideas can transcend long-held views, expose hidden truths or herald a change of view.
Anybody can make a speech; few can make speeches that are truly great. So what makes a great speech? Above all, it must achieve its purpose: to persuade, to explain, to inspire, to challenge, to apologise or perhaps to acquit or to convict.
A speech may be great because it is enlivened by the use of literary devices to make it particularly unforgettable. It may be great because of the content: its facts, logic or compelling force of argument.
It may be great because of its memorable delivery. Or it may be the venue: a party conference, onboard a battleship being sent to war or on the floor of the nation's parliament. Greatness may come because the occasion demands it: a memorial service, a vigorous debate or an election campaign launch. Ultimately, a great speech needs a blend of some, if not all, of these factors.
Regrettably, most contemporary speeches fail to excite and inspire. There are many reasons for this: policy convergence, the risk-adverse nature of modern politics, the lack of transformative ideas, some of the media's trivial reporting of politics and the lack of genuine leadership displayed by our politicians.
While some politicians struggle to engage an increasingly busy, cynical and disengaged citizenry, there have never been more ways to engage with them, given the transformation in media and communications.
Above all, the reason most modern political speeches fail is because of their blandness and propensity towards spin: sound bites and key lines harvested from focus groups and polling that decouple language from meaning.
There is a need to guard against speeches that are nothing but exercises in vacuous obscurantism, whose words and sentences are polluted with empty rhetoric, stripping away argument or purpose.
The art of great speechmaking remains vitally important for our democracy. It offers an opportunity for a more considered, more intelligent, more meaningful way to communicate political ideas and to secure support for them.
And those who can master one of the oldest forms of communication can exercise the power of political persuasion, which can truly change the world.
Edited extract from For the True Believers: Great Labor Speeches That Shaped History (The Federation Press)