SPEECH, PRAISE AND PRE-MATURE ACCLAIM

When we meet a kind and awe inspiring stranger on our varied walks of life, it is very easy to put them up on a pedestal for the charisma that they emanate, the magic that they speak, and the hands that they wave in delicious gestures of healing, help and promise. I find in Barack Obama, such a stranger; one who comes as if to lead the lost and the wanting. But there is a danger always, to forget that even the stranger has one who sent him, there is a danger to forget to notice that before the stranger came along, there was one to whom we prayed to, hoped to, asked to save us. Celebrate the coming of the stranger, we must, acclaim him and his words, we shall, breath in his promises of course we will, but let us not be too quick to rise him up on a pedestal higher than the skies and let us not be blinded from recognizing the reasons for which he came, let us allow him, help him to fulfill the promises for which he so fought.

I have been reproved for refusing to watch the inauguration speech live on television yesterday, I chose instead, to go and have my warm lunch waiting for me. “How dare you,” a friend said to me, “this is history in the making, how can you not join in this celebration, surely even you can understand that this is progress being made.” These were the pre-mature congratulatory musings of one of my class mates, pre-mature because I do not see the progress he is talking about, I do not see the history-in-the-making that glitters his eyes. I do not see any of these things and maybe I am wrong, maybe I am blind. Just because I refused to watch the live address of the speech on television, did not mean I was going to ignore what the ever alluring stranger, Obama, had to say; and so before I could get a paper copy of his speech, I put on my critical glasses and I read the speech, digested it, learnt it and praised it.

It was of course not surprising that the first half of the speech was a chilling reminder to the people of America and to the world, that the country was in a crisis; a weak economy, threat from terrorism, failing healthcare system and declining educational institutions. Fear, fear, fear, you shall all fear, the fear had to be preached first, the fear had to make the first entrance, fear had be the first introductory, first I will make you afraid, then I will gently blow over your goose pimples with promises of hope and vigor. If I do not make you fear first, if I delve first and immediate into the dear messages of hope and positive being, I am afraid the effect will not be as dramatic, first you must fear, then I will give you hope. I do not disagree with the problems that, as Obama mentioned, are facing the United States of America, I see them as clearly as the next man, I disagree, however, with the grand entrance with which he treated them, it all seemed too Hollywood for my taste.

Then there is mention of everything else, all hope, all praise, fore-fathers, fight to right things, blah, blah, blah. God mentioned a miniscule number of times, if at all any, and all in good faith I have never heard a speech so well delivered. He can talk, this new president of the United States; Barack Obama has got a wonderful gift of the gab. His speech reads like an ode of hope, and I would love to read it over and over again.

But why all the applaud, why all the cheer. The man has not yet stepped into the White House and we are already building monuments in his name, roads in his name, schools in his name, dear God I think he is the new messiah. He is the first African-American to be elected president of the United States and to that I will say “hurray.” But I want to see more: do not give me great sentences and fancy words, I don’t want well spoken literature and smooth flowing dialectics, do not give me a great physical stance and elegant promises. I want to see work, I want to see action, things done and righted. I will hold off my praise, the pedestal will stay empty for now; I will not be putting anyone up there just yet. I think that I speak for many when I say that history has not yet been made, history is yet to be made, and if you do feel that this is the end of the road, then I am afraid you are in for a bumpy shock.