“Yes we can,” he said one last time. “Yes we did.” And the crowd roared.
Barack Obama
– the son of a Kenyan goat herder and self-described “skinny kid with a
funny name” who grew up to become America’s first black president – had
come to say goodbye.
But while for most of the past eight years it had seemed this night
would be one of joy and nostalgia, now it came with a sober note, laden
with omens and warnings about a democracy under siege.
Obama had hoped to be talking about passing on the baton to fellow Democrat Hillary Clinton. Instead Donald Trump’s
stunning victory implied an existential threat and called for him to
paint on a bigger canvas. In a “state of our democracy” speech he deftly
concentrated his fire not on the president-elect but on the malaise
that produce him. In 4,300 words he only mentioned Trump by name once –
but delivered much by way of repudiation.
Obama dismissed talk of post-racial America, in vogue after his own
ascent in 2008, as unrealistic. He defended the rights of immigrants and
Muslim Americans. He lambasted those who refuse to accept the science
of climate change. He warned of the threat posed by “the rise of naked
partisanship”, with people retreating into their own self-confirming
bubbles.
There was not, perhaps, the piercing emotion of Obama’s greatest
speeches. But when he came to thank his wife, Michelle, for standing by
him through it all, an elegy that prompted one of the biggest cheers of
the night, he wept.
Over the past eight years Obama has travelled the globe extolling the
American experiment in democracy, admitting its flaws but insisting
that it strives for a more perfect union. He little expected to be
ending his second term having to defend the great project on his home
turf.
Democracy depended on equality, he argued, and the economy was
growing again. But this was not enough. “Stark inequality is also
corrosive to our democratic principles … a recipe for more cynicism and
polarisation in our politics.” Then he named a second threat to democracy. “After my election there
was talk of a post-racial America. Such a vision, however well intended,
was never realistic. For race remains a potent and often divisive force
in our society.” Upholding laws against discrimination alone would not be enough, he
said, adding that “hearts must change”. In a nod to the discontent in
rust belt states that helped propel Trump to victory, he continued: “For
blacks and other minorities it means tying our own struggles for
justice to the challenges that a lot of people in this country face –
the refugee, the immigrant, the rural poor, the transgender American,
and also the middle-aged white man who from the outside may seem like
he’s got all the advantages, but who’s seen his world upended by
economic, cultural and technological change.”
But he added: “For white Americans it means acknowledging that the
effects of slavery and Jim Crow didn’t suddenly vanish in the 60s; that
when minority groups voice discontent they’re not just engaging in
reverse racism or practising political correctness; that when they wage
peaceful protest they’re not demanding special treatment, but the equal
treatment our founders promised.”
Obama
went on to tackle a hot topic in the wake of last year’s bitterly
divisive presidential election: deep polarisation, even around what
facts people consume. “For too many of us it’s become safer to retreat
into our own bubbles, whether in our neighborhoods or college campuses
or places of worship or our social media feeds, surrounded by people who
look like us and share the same political outlook and never challenge
our assumptions.
“The rise of naked partisanship, increasing economic and regional
stratification, the splintering of our media into a channel for every
taste – all this makes this great sorting seem natural, even inevitable.
And increasingly we become so secure in our bubbles that we accept only
information, whether true or not, that fits our opinions, instead of
basing our opinions on the evidence that’s out there.”
Citing climate change as an example, he added: “Without some common
baseline of facts, without a willingness to admit new information and
concede that your opponent is making a fair point, and that science and
reason matter, we’ll keep talking past each other, making common ground
and compromise impossible.”
Democracy was threatened when taken for granted, Obama said, noting
the relatively low turnout in US elections. “Our constitution is a
remarkable, beautiful gift. But it’s really just a piece of parchment.
It has no power on its own.”
Democracy needs you, he told an estimated audience of 18,000. “Not
just when there’s an election, not just when your own narrow interest is
at stake, but over the full span of a lifetime. If you’re tired of
arguing with strangers on the internet, try to talk with one in real
life.
“If something needs fixing, lace up your shoes and do some
organising. If you’re disappointed by your elected officials, grab a
clipboard, get some signatures, and run for office yourself. Show up.
Dive in. Persevere. Sometimes you’ll win. Sometimes you’ll lose … More
often than not your faith in America – and in Americans – will be
confirmed.”
George Washington’s farewell address warned of the divisiveness of
political parties. Dwight Eisenhower’s warned of the rise of the
military industrial complex. So Obama cannot assume his words will be
heeded.
His professorial side had been at the fore all night. But when he
came to thank his family there was a shift. “Michelle LeVaughn Robinson,
girl of the south side [of Chicago], for the past 25 years, you’ve been
not only my wife and mother of my children, you have been my best
friend. You took on a role you didn’t ask for and you made it your own
with grace and grit and style, and good humour. You made the White House
a place that belongs to everybody. And a new generation sets its sights
higher because it has you as a role model. You’ve made me proud. You’ve
made the country proud.”
Michelle sat in the front row. The crowd erupted around her and gave
an extended ovation. Beside her the couple’s daughter Malia welled up
with tears.
Obama also paid tribute to Malia and sister Sasha – the latter absent
due to a school exam in Washington the next day – saying: “Of all that
I’ve done in my life I’m most proud to be your dad.”
Michelle and Malia, along with the vice-president, Joe Biden, and his
wife, Jill, joined the president on stage to more cheers and goodbye
waves from the crowd.
Sheila Baldwin, a 64-year-old African American, who got her ticket on
Saturday after queuing from 5am, said: “My ancestors would appreciate
and insist I see this historic event. It was thrilling for us to see my
mother, who is 91, witness the first black president; now to see it come
full circle is a wonderful moment.”
Obama shook hands with supporters, including civil rights struggle
veteran Jesse Jackson, and stepped out of the limelight. To the end he
appeared composed and serene: a man at peace with himself.