In spite of the much depleted condition of my once 2000-volume personal library, I still retain a lovely copy of The Basic Works of Aristotle, published by Random, complete with a now blood-splattered slipcase (thanks to a little slip of my Swiss Army knife). It includes the Politics (Politica), Poetics (De Poetica) and Rhetoric (Rhetorica), of course, along with an introduction written by Richard McKeon in 1941.
McKeon reminds us that rhetoric is, after all, the art of persuasion. And though politics is sometimes broadly defined as the allocation of limited resources, persuasion is inarguably at the heart of any political argument. After all, is political success at all possible without prior success in the art of public persuasion?
According to Aristotle there are three modes of persuasion which a speaker may exercise: the persuasive power of his own character, the excitation of desired emotions in the audience, and proof or apparent proof.
Sounds like politics to me.
As for my favorite work, I find it hard to choose between the Politics and Poetics. As a former speechwriter and political adviser to a governor and attorney general, I wish I had discovered the Politics long ago. Come to think of it, both the Politics and Rhetoric should be required reading for anyone in government or campaign work charged with shaping and crafting what is commonly called “message”–the core communication and values of any politician or campaign. If I found myself in politics or government today, the Aristotle would take its place on my desk along with such essentials as the Associated Press style manual, the collected writings of Lincoln and Jefferson, the King James Bible and my copy of Strunk and White. In other words, essential reading.
One lesson from the Rhetoric that has always stayed with me is that persuasion begins with character, a word heard daily in politics and interchangeable with personal credibility. Now it doesn’t take a political scientist to realize that character and credibility are the prime targets in every political battle–take away your opponent’s credibility and you’ve already won half the battle. Which of course is why any election is not without vicious skirmishing–after all, it’s personal.
So, the question of the day remains: do you want your politicians reading The Art of War or The Prince? Or do you want them reading Aristotle?
I know: not much of a chance. But still, one can always hope…