Fouad Ajami has an interesting perspective on the crowds that are lifted by the Obama presence.
On the face of it, there is nothing overwhelmingly stirring about Sen. Obama. There is a cerebral quality to him, and an air of detachment. He has eloquence, but within bounds. After nearly two years on the trail, the audience can pretty much anticipate and recite his lines. The political genius of the man is that he is a blank slate. The devotees can project onto him what they wish. The coalition that has propelled his quest -- African-Americans and affluent white liberals -- has no economic coherence. But for the moment, there is the illusion of a common undertaking -- Canetti's feeling of equality within the crowd. The day after, the crowd will of course discover its own fissures. The affluent will have to pay for the programs promised the poor. The redistribution agenda that runs through Mr. Obama's vision is anathema to the Silicon Valley entrepreneurs and the hedge-fund managers now smitten with him. Their ethos is one of competition and the justice of the rewards that come with risk and effort. All this is shelved, as the devotees sustain the candidacy of a man whose public career has been a steady advocacy of reining in the market and organizing those who believe in entitlement and redistribution.
A creature of universities and churches and nonprofit institutions, the Illinois senator, with the blessing and acquiescence of his upscale supporters, has glided past these hard distinctions. On the face of it, it must be surmised that his affluent devotees are ready to foot the bill for the new order, or are convinced that after victory the old ways will endure, and that Mr. Obama will govern from the center. Ambiguity has been a powerful weapon of this gifted candidate: He has been different things to different people, and he was under no obligation to tell this coalition of a thousand discontents, and a thousand visions, the details of his political programs: redistribution for the poor, postracial absolution and "modernity" for the upper end of the scale.
Ajami finds a parallel to the yearning of Arab crowds for a leader who will singlehandedly uplift their entire society and is rather disturbed by seeing that yearning transferred to the United States.
My boyhood, and the Arab political culture I have been chronicling for well over three decades, are anchored in the Arab world. And the tragedy of Arab political culture has been the unending expectation of the crowd -- the street, we call it -- in the redeemer who will put an end to the decline, who will restore faded splendor and greatness. When I came into my own, in the late 1950s and '60s, those hopes were invested in the Egyptian Gamal Abdul Nasser. He faltered, and broke the hearts of generations of Arabs. But the faith in the Awaited One lives on, and it would forever circle the Arab world looking for the next redeemer.
America is a different land, for me exceptional in all the ways that matter. In recent days, those vast Obama crowds, though, have recalled for me the politics of charisma that wrecked Arab and Muslim societies. A leader does not have to say much, or be much. The crowd is left to its most powerful possession -- its imagination.
That's why the power of the abstract nouns like change and hope have so much power. I heard Mark Steyn say the other day that so many schools today have posters with abstract nouns in the halls like Achievement, Effort, and Character and that it's no coincidence that a generation educated among such posters would fall hard for a candidate of Hope and Change.
Fouad Ajami has an interesting perspective on the crowds that are lifted by the Obama presence.
On the face of it, there is nothing overwhelmingly stirring about Sen. Obama. There is a cerebral quality to him, and an air of detachment. He has eloquence, but within bounds. After nearly two years on the trail, the audience can pretty much anticipate and recite his lines. The political genius of the man is that he is a blank slate. The devotees can project onto him what they wish. The coalition that has propelled his quest -- African-Americans and affluent white liberals -- has no economic coherence. But for the moment, there is the illusion of a common undertaking -- Canetti's feeling of equality within the crowd. The day after, the crowd will of course discover its own fissures. The affluent will have to pay for the programs promised the poor. The redistribution agenda that runs through Mr. Obama's vision is anathema to the Silicon Valley entrepreneurs and the hedge-fund managers now smitten with him. Their ethos is one of competition and the justice of the rewards that come with risk and effort. All this is shelved, as the devotees sustain the candidacy of a man whose public career has been a steady advocacy of reining in the market and organizing those who believe in entitlement and redistribution.
A creature of universities and churches and nonprofit institutions, the Illinois senator, with the blessing and acquiescence of his upscale supporters, has glided past these hard distinctions. On the face of it, it must be surmised that his affluent devotees are ready to foot the bill for the new order, or are convinced that after victory the old ways will endure, and that Mr. Obama will govern from the center. Ambiguity has been a powerful weapon of this gifted candidate: He has been different things to different people, and he was under no obligation to tell this coalition of a thousand discontents, and a thousand visions, the details of his political programs: redistribution for the poor, postracial absolution and "modernity" for the upper end of the scale.
Ajami finds a parallel to the yearning of Arab crowds for a leader who will singlehandedly uplift their entire society and is rather disturbed by seeing that yearning transferred to the United States.
My boyhood, and the Arab political culture I have been chronicling for well over three decades, are anchored in the Arab world. And the tragedy of Arab political culture has been the unending expectation of the crowd -- the street, we call it -- in the redeemer who will put an end to the decline, who will restore faded splendor and greatness. When I came into my own, in the late 1950s and '60s, those hopes were invested in the Egyptian Gamal Abdul Nasser. He faltered, and broke the hearts of generations of Arabs. But the faith in the Awaited One lives on, and it would forever circle the Arab world looking for the next redeemer.
America is a different land, for me exceptional in all the ways that matter. In recent days, those vast Obama crowds, though, have recalled for me the politics of charisma that wrecked Arab and Muslim societies. A leader does not have to say much, or be much. The crowd is left to its most powerful possession -- its imagination.
That's why the power of the abstract nouns like change and hope have so much power. I heard Mark Steyn say the other day that so many schools today have posters with abstract nouns in the halls like Achievement, Effort, and Character and that it's no coincidence that a generation educated among such posters would fall hard for a candidate of Hope and Change.
We ridicule the Arabs for their 7th century mentality, for looking to the Awaited One to solve their problems. We pity them for being uneducated, for being ignorant, for being dirt poor, for having to live in a land of corruptions, for dreaming past glories of an once greatest civilization.
In the 21st century America, the "intellectuals" and the rich are awaiting the One for salvation. They buckle in the face of an economic downturn which comes like clockwork every eight to ten years. A couple of years from now, we will ridicule the One's educated disciples for being ignorant of history and lack of common sense. We will pity the people for having to live in a land of corruptions, for dreaming of past glories...
ic - the hallmark of people who support big gov't is that tehy expect other people to solve their problems for them and are narcissistic enough to believe they are entitled to this help. That they are Dems is really only a label assigned to this worldview.
you folks re so silly! if a lady or a guy draws a crowd then it is bad--that is, if you don't like the person's party or beliefs; otherwise crowds screaming are great, right?
Crowds; JFK, Rolling Stones, New York Yankees, Obama, Palin, McCarthur down ll5th Ave, and on and on...how biased in such nonsense can you get? Hitler drew screaming crowd; Lincoln had crowds along train with his body...