These days, as I reflect on the explosive aftereffects of the incineration of copies of the Quran in a US military base in Afghanistan, I find myself re-reading chapters 1-11 of Book Two of Aristotle’s Rhetoric, where he offers his treatment of the passions (the Greek is pathē, from which we get all those “path” terms, like sympathy, empathy, apathy, pathetic, and so on). This “theory of moral sentiments” comes in the context of “a theory of rhetoric”: a reasoned discourse offering analysis and advice concerning the political use of composed speech in situations where persuasion is based on something other than “purely” rational conviction. Central to what Aristotle has to say  is that human beings experience anger on those occasions when they: (1) believe that they themselves or something that they hold dear (or, especially, most dear) has been belittled and (2) cherish a wish for revenge. The paradigmatic example is Achilles, who believing himself to have been robbed of his honor (which is what was most dear to him at that time) by Agamemnon, displays his anger precisely by predicting and praying for (and then enlisting the gods’ support for his predictive prayer) the devastation of the Greek army as a punishment to Agamemnon. This is especially exemplary in that, among other things, it shows why what we euphemistically call “collateral damage” is so endemic to “the work of anger.”

The terrible events that have followed the burning of the Qurans by insufficiently sensitive and ill trained personnel, sadly, were entirely predictable in terms of Aristotle’s account. The anger, with its destructive thirst for revenge, that a believer feels in seeing the testament burned unceremoniously as refuse is immediately understandable for someone who has taken the slightest moment to conceive of how a Muslim relates to the sacred word, and how it differs from the way in which a Christian relates to the sacred word. With just the smallest degree of education—precisely the kind of education Aristotle is trying to provide in his Rhetoric—one could see at an instant the grounds for the anger.

But wait, have I presumed too much? Have I, as Newt Gingrich recently asserted,“surrendered” by claiming that it was, in fact, an error to burn those Qurans—assuredly, in an entirely non-inflammatory and “instrumental” manner?” Am I hasty in suggesting that this is a sign of insufficient sensitivity and improper training on the part of the military and its contractors? No. And Aristotle points us to the reason why. Whoever steps into the public sphere and asks their fellow citizens—or the citizens of other lands—to listen to what they have to say about matters of public concern must have in mind what the character of those listening is like and also what kind of character they can be inspired to want to have. When our leaders uncritically respond to the inflamed and violent protests that have been going on (and make no mistake I find crimes against persons that have been committed in the aftermath of the original burning absolutely unjustified beyond any shadow of doubt), they are in effect telling us: yes, in fact, we are the people who burn Qurans with the rest of the trash, and we are going to continue being those people, and that is in no way in contradiction with our being lovers of freedom who wish to bring to the whole world the possibility of self-determination. Indeed, for some who subscribe to the “clash of civilizations” narrative, these events prove that it is precisely because we are the people who burn Qurans (in the service of removing “radicalizing materials” from a detention facility, and let’s not forget that piece of this tale) that we are the people who are on this democratizing mission.

But that, in this context, is exactly the problem. With rare exceptions (the re-emergence of Rick Santorum into the limelight has provided an instance), our political leaders, from left to right, prefer not to admit a basic fact. America is not (yet) a pluralist and universalist democracy based on ethical-humanist values. Nor is it, by any means, a secular country. Nor yet is it one “founded on Judeo-Christian” values, a hyphenated horror of a phrase I feel I have heard (well, seen) one thousand times in the past weeks. America—and forgive me, President Obama, as I know you’ve tried hard to make the opposite case—is a Christian land. It may be on its way to being something else, something more. Or it may be, actually, becoming more so a Christian land. But at this point it time, it is a Christian country.

In fact, I would claim that if it were “Judeo-Christian” (whatever that would actually mean), then this would not have happened. Why? Because to the extent that that “Judeo” part was in there, I mean was really in there, it simply would not have been possible for folks to be so deeply tone deaf to the significance of burning the word. A Jewish congregation lives in and through the Law; a community of Jewish believers without a building, without a Rabbi, without an institutional structure are all entirely possible. Without the scroll, without the Law, which is itself sacred, with highly ritualized rules for one’s conduct when holding it, or even in its vicinity, there is nothing. For Jews, as for Muslims, there is only God and only those with whom God has seen fit to work on earth, namely the prophets.

The roster may differ, but the structure and the theology remains the same. For this reason, though politically impossible at the moment, it would be much easier to imagine a Islamo-Jewish or Judeo-Islamic political community than a Judeo-Christian one. Theologically, Islam and Judaism are much closer to one another than either is to Christianity. But I digress.

The trace of the divine in the world, then, is to be found in the letter of the law, for Jews as much as Muslims. For this reason, a Jew might very well, and well we know it, burn a Quran. But never in what seems to have been the genuine ignorance at work in this instance.

Let me speak a bit more carefully. I do not know, and I suppose it is not currently known, precisely how far up the chain of command the order to burning these sacred (to some) texts went. Thus, it is irresponsible to speak about the faith traditions to which those individuals belong, or their nationalities. What I mean to address here is not the activity of the burning itself, and its causes, so much as the way that activity is understood by those in whose name it was carried out. And in this respect, I hope to have given us reason to consider the possibility that it is because the United States is a Christian country, and leads its allies in world affairs as a Christian country, that something like this “public relations disaster” could happen. If that is so, or even if it just might be so, then I think we have reason to consider the possibility that it is time for us to have some genuine religious education in the American, so that any (say) 12 year old would know what they would have been taught to believe about the sacred had they been brought up in (to begin with) each of the other Abrahamic faiths.

I have a very hard time imagining that in such a possible Christian—but self-consciously Christian—America, you would find very many 18-25 year olds who would not know that burning a Quran is for a believing Muslim very much unlike burning a “remaindered” King James Bible is for a believing Christian. And, for that reason, I find it fairly likely that in a world in which that America, rather than our current “Judeo-Christian” America, was active in world affairs, not only would Americans be better able to anticipate what makes others angry, but we might actually be able to help bring about a state of affairs where there was at least a little less anger in the world. Which would be a good thing.

‘Skin in the game’ is a widely used and imperfect aphorism of uncertain origins. The political meanings of the phrase have been used by all sides in political debates, and each side seeks to appropriate its meaning to connect with people on an informal level. The political application is relatively new compared to its application in business, finance, betting and war. ‘Skin in the game’ has become part of the rhetoric in debates on taxes, deficits and entitlements, and its use is likely to increase as the debates heat up.

‘Game’ is a metaphor for actions of all types, and ‘skin’ is a metaphor for being committed to something through emotional, financial, or bodily commitment. Skin is also a synecdoche representing the whole being. Taken together the phrase implies taking risk and being invested in achieving an outcome. The late columnist William Safire sought the origin of the phrase and didn’t resolve the issue, but he did dispel one widely held explanation. It was not the billionaire investor Warren Buffett who coined the phrase. Buffett likes executives in companies in which he invests to also have their funds, or their skin, invested in the firm. Safire learned from a money and investment specialist that the expression is much used to “convey financial risk in any kind of venture, but you could stretch it to mean some kind of emotional investment. Can you have skin in the game of your marriage? Well, you ought to.”

Ever since humans first walked the earth, our skins have been in the game as hunters, gatherers and cultivators. Over time, animal skins were used for trade and as currencies. For instance, buckskins were monetized, giving us our current buck and the use of the word skin as slang for money. The aphorism has been widely used in informal everyday language and increasingly has become popular in political speech. Safire observed in his New York Times column that ‘skin in the game’ has penetrated the U. S. Senate Chamber. He quoted Senator Tom Coburn in his advocacy for healthcare spending accounts as saying, “H.S.A.’s give consumers some ‘skin in the game’ by putting them in charge of health-care dollars.” When interviewed by George Stephanopoulos, President Elect Barack Obama explained that a long-term fix for the economy would demand sacrifices from all Americans, “Everybody’s going to have to give. Everybody’s going to have some skin in the game.” And the Republican Representative David Camp is on the books as saying, “I believe you’ve got to have some responsibility for the government you have. People have co-payments under Medicare, and everyone should have some ‘skin in the game’ under the income tax system.”

Democrats tend to say that the wealthy aren’t paying enough taxes, and Republicans frequently lament that around 45 percent of all households pay no federal income taxes. Similar arguments are applied to Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, and public pension and retirement programs. Democrats seek to preserve these programs without making major changes to them, and Republicans insist that to preserve these programs, substantial changes are needed, and more skin needs to be put into the game. These opposing views will dominate public policy discussions through the 2012 elections and beyond. Ultimately, public policy will resolve whose skin should be in the game, and how much of it should be committed.

Evidence for penetration of ‘skin in the game’ into everyday language is abundant. When googled, the phrase pops up 13,200,000 times on the web; there are 615,000 finds in images; 3,360 in books; 283 in news, etcetera. By focusing on a micro aspect of an issue, it is possible to access issues from another perspective. I would encourage you to explore the Web and The New York Times archives. It is another way to use a micro approach to gain perspective on macro issues. It taught me that Democratic Senator Warner has a skin in the game approach when developing a solution to bring down the US deficit: “there’s no option but to push ahead. A way forward won’t be found unless there’s a grand enough bargain that everybody feels they’ve got some skin (in) the game. And also on the world stage there is skin to be put in the game. When discussing U.S. military action in Libya and the need for United Nations authorization and involvement from neighboring countries, a senior administration official noted that, “It’s not enough for them to just cheer us on. They have to put some skin in the game. The president has made clear it can’t just be us.”

If invoking the phrase wasn’t effective, I don’ think it would have migrated into so many aspects of our lives. I doubt that it would have shifted from personal and interpersonal micro concerns to collective and macro issues. ‘Putting skin in the game’ touches us on an elemental level and reaches beyond reason. It is this characteristic that makes it attractive for political rhetoric for those promoting shared sacrifices, and others seeking personal investment in solutions. The next time you hear the expression, you might want to stop and ask: what is being asked by whom, and for what purposes?

This week President Obama gave an important speech in the Oval office announcing the end of combat operations in Iraq.  In October 2002, before the war was declared, he distinguished himself as one of the few political leaders to express clear opposition to the Iraq war.   There is an important connection between his words and his actions, then, which I will consider in today’s post, and now, which I will consider in following posts.

The standard way to account for the connection is through cynical interpretation, explaining the texts of these speeches by referring to their context.  Much is lost in such cynical interpretation–here, the two speeches are Deliberately Considered.

The Context

On October 2, 2002, Obama was a relatively obscure politician, a State Senator considering a run for the United States Senate.  He had some significant movers and shakers in Chicago eyeing him, realizing his promise.  One of them, Bettylu Saltzman, who was organizing the anti-war demonstration, asked him to take part.  His political advisors calculated the costs and benefits, seeing a real problem if he sought to run in a state wide race.  As an African American, he might solidify his support among white liberals, fortifying the black – white coalition base of a potential run, but he may have appealed to them in any case, and he clearly would lose conservative Democratic support and the support of many independents, who at that time were overwhelmingly supporting the President and his impending war.  Nonetheless, since he actually did think that war would be a big mistake, Obama decided to give the speech, notable for its moderation in his opposition to the war:  “I don’t oppose all wars. What I am opposed to is a dumb war” was the recurring theme.  (See David Remnick, The Bridge).

The moderation of the speech served his immediate purposes and it later helped his candidacy in the Democratic Presidential Primaries.  On this point, David Axelrod, Obama’s chief political consultant, has bemoaned the fact that there was no decent video of the speech.   Obama opposed the war, but tried to demonstrate at the same time that he was not soft on fighting terrorism.  It was a strange speech to give to an anti-war gathering, since he emphasized his support of war.  It was a speech which distinguished just from unjust war, raising serious theoretical problems as it addresses serious practical concerns (which I will address in a later post on his Nobel Prize acceptance address).

The calculation was real.  Obama, like all politicians, is not pure.  Politicians can’t afford to proceed without considering whether they can bring the public along with them.  But in order to actually be effective leaders, they must also base their actions upon their principled commitments.  This is a crucial difference and in this, Obama distinguished himself.  His text reaches beyond its context, and in this way it has enduring significance.

The Text

In his anti war speech he declared:

“I know that an invasion of Iraq without a clear rationale and without strong international support will only fan the flames of the Middle East, and encourage the worst, rather than best, impulses of the Arab world, and strengthen the recruitment arm of al-Qaeda.

I am not opposed to all wars. I’m opposed to dumb wars. So for those of us who seek a more just and secure world for our children, let us send a clear message to the president.

You want a fight, President Bush? Let’s finish the fight with Bin Laden and al-Qaeda, through effective, coordinated intelligence, and a shutting down of the financial networks that support terrorism, and a homeland security program that involves more than color-coded warnings.

You want a fight, President Bush? Let’s fight to make sure that…we vigorously enforce a nonproliferation treaty, and that former enemies and current allies like Russia safeguard and ultimately eliminate their stores of nuclear material, and that nations like Pakistan and India never use the terrible weapons already in their possession, and that the arms merchants in our own country stop feeding the countless wars that rage across the globe…

You want a fight, President Bush? Let’s fight to wean ourselves off Middle East oil through an energy policy that doesn’t simply serve the interests of Exxon and Mobil.

Those are the battles that we need to fight. Those are the battles that we willingly join. The battles against ignorance and intolerance. Corruption and greed. Poverty and despair.”

The Deliberate Consideration

Obama was then a local politician, representing a liberal racially mixed district in the state legislature.  Later as a national politician, he was able to contrast his clear position from his primary opponents because of his early and consistent opposition to the war.  The speech addressed his immediate political calculations, no doubt.  But what is most striking is how his words capture his political commitments and policies now even more than the political calculations then.  He was underscoring his major concerns:  nuclear proliferation, peace in the Middle East, fighting for tolerance, energy independence, and social justice.  He predicted that the war would deflect national attention from these pressing issues, before the war began.  He has been struggling to work on the issues in the aftermath of a war that had the results that he publicly feared.  And the speech was continuous with, not at odds with, his present stance in the wars in Iraq, as the combat mission ends, and in Afghanistan, for better and for worse, as the war continues to pose fundamental problems.

Yesterday’s speech could have been given today.  And today’s speech could have been given yesterday, as I will explore tomorrow.