12.2.2009

O poder da palavra

Hoje, 12 de Fevereiro de 2009, o mundo celebra o 2º centenário do nascimento de Darwin. Emendo: quase todo o mundo, porque ainda há muitos irredutíveis rupestres que consideram Darwin como o grande satã contra a fé criacionista. Comemoração merecida, mas a fazer esquecer, relativamente, a coincidência de, exactamente no mesmo dia, ter nascido numa aldeia esquecida do Illinois outra figura marcante da história da Humanidade, Abraham Lincoln. Foi ele que, como direi adiante, me suscitou o título desta nota.

A literatura portuguesa é pobre nesse género “pobre” que é o da oratória. Sacra, tivemos o Padre Vieira. Da oratória da barra do tribunal, sou ignorante. Da militar também, embora tenha em conta que, salvo César e poucos mais, os militares nunca foram muito dados à exortação às armas com algum nível literário. Vou tratar é da oratória política, a que mais me fascina, desde os antigos, Demóstenes que obviamente só li traduzido, e também Cícero, que um avô professor de latim me obrigou a estudar na língua patrícia (com a vantagem de ainda hoje poder dizer muitas vezes, a muitos senhores X, “quousque tandem abutere, X, patientia mea?”

Paradoxalmente, o nosso maior prosador político, segundo o meu juízo, não foi propriamente um orador. Refiro-me a Antero. Garrett parlamentar é palavroso e dilui boas e generosas ideias na decoração romântica do discurso (veja-se, por exemplo, o célebre discurso do Porto do Pireu). José Estêvão é muito melhor, mais eficaz, mais contundente, mas não nos deixou uma frase que nos venha logo à memória.

Ressalto logo isto quando comparo com a oratória de língua inglesa. Discursos de frase curta e precisa, incisiva, mas sem prejuízo - ou até por isso mesmo - de uma grande elegância literária, depurada. Neste estilo geral, sobressai a invenção de frases que fazem história. Lembram-se de Churchil? “Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few”. Ou “I have nothing to offer but blood, toil, tears, and sweat”.

Podem até ser coisas bem mais simples, repetitivas, a marcar o ritmo, a recordar o “and Brutus is an honorable man” (não deixem de recordar o elogio fúnebre de Marlon Brando). Foi o “I have a dream”, foi agora o “Yes, we can”. Curiosamente, coisas de negros; não será alguma nota de jazz na oratória?

Mas Obama não fica por aqui, é um orador completo. Como o fiz junto de alguns amigos, chamo aqui a atenção para um seu grande discurso recente, “We can't afford to wait”, sobre o desemprego e o seu plano para a crise económica. O seu discurso de tomada de posse é excelente, a meu ver, principalmente porque combina muito bem a exposição pedagógica de problemas reais com a tal “exortação às armas”, neste caso armas figuradas. Recordo aqui a conclusão do discurso, quase shakespeariana (volto a lembrar o que já escrevi, a exortação sobre o dia de St. Crispin, por Henrique V, na véspera de Agincourt):

“America, in the face of our common dangers, in this winter of our hardship, let us remember these timeless words; with hope and virtue, let us brave once more the icy currents, and endure what storms may come; let it be said by our children's children that when we were tested we refused to let this journey end, that we did not turn back nor did we falter; and with eyes fixed on the horizon and God's grace upon us, we carried forth that great gift of freedom and delivered it safely to future generations.”.

(Nota - e eu, bem atento, bem como outro amigo igualmente curioso, não consegui vislumbrar sombra de teleponto).

No entanto, para não ser acusado de a minha admiração pela oratória anglo-saxónica (e muita mais literatura) ser contagiada pela minha expectativa em Obama, vou extrair parte de um outro notável discurso político anglófono, num momento dramático na vida de um homem que sabia que o momento principalmente era histórico, para além da sua pessoa:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others”.

Este discurso é de Nelson Mandela, outro grande senhor. E só para não prolongar demais este escrito é que não cito magníficos discursos de outro grande senhor, Kofi Annan. Lembrei-me agora de que isto vem muito a propósito, recordando Darwin, convicto anti-esclavagista e defensor de que a espécie humana era única e composta por indivíduos iguais na diversidade (não se pense que isto era ideia aceite, mesmo na comunidade científica). E também recordando Lincoln, um bem negro americano branco.

Com isto, volto a Lincoln e ao poder da palavra. Lincoln era filho de pais modestos, tinha trabalhado na quinta desde criança, nunca frequentou a universidade, não tinha apoios financeiros. Mas tinha um extraordinário poder da palavra. Em sua homenagem, neste dia, reproduzo dois discursos célebres. Até é difícil chamar-lhes discursos, tão curtos são. Curtos, mas cheios de ideias, de generosidade, de valores.

Alocução de Gettysburg

“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation, so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

Segundo discurso de tomada de posse

“At this second appearing to take the oath of the presidential office, there is less occasion for an extended address than there was at the first. Then a statement, somewhat in detail, of a course to be pursued, seemed fitting and proper. Now, at the expiration of four years, during which public declarations have been constantly called forth on every point and phase of the great contest which still absorbs the attention, and engrosses the energies of the nation, little that is new could be presented. The progress of our arms, upon which all else chiefly depends, is as well known to the public as to myself; and it is, I trust, reasonably satisfactory and encouraging to all. With high hope for the future, no prediction in regard to it is ventured.

On the occasion corresponding to this four years ago, all thoughts were anxiously directed to an impending civil war. All dreaded it — all sought to avert it. While the inaugural address was being delivered from this place, devoted altogether to saving the Union without war, insurgent agents were in the city seeking to destroy it without war — seeking to dissolve the Union, and divide effects, by negotiation. Both parties deprecated war; but one of them would make war rather than let the nation survive; and the other would accept war rather than let it perish. And the war came.

One eighth of the whole population were colored slaves, not distributed generally over the Union, but localized in the Southern part of it. These slaves constituted a peculiar and powerful interest. All knew that this interest was, somehow, the cause of the war. To strengthen, perpetuate, and extend this interest was the object for which the insurgents would rend the Union, even by war; while the government claimed no right to do more than to restrict the territorial enlargement of it. Neither party expected for the war, the magnitude, or the duration, which it has already attained. Neither anticipated that the cause of the conflict might cease with, or even before, the conflict itself should cease. Each looked for an easier triumph, and a result less fundamental and astounding. Both read the same Bible, and pray to the same God; and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces; but let us judge not that we be not judged. The prayers of both could not be answered; that of neither has been answered fully. The Almighty has his own purposes. "Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!" If we shall suppose that American Slavery is one of those offences which, in the providence of God, must needs come, but which, having continued through His appointed time, He now wills to remove, and that He gives to both North and South, this terrible war, as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those divine attributes which the believers in a Living God always ascribe to Him? Fondly do we hope — fervently do we pray — that this mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet, if God wills that it continue, until all the wealth piled by the bond-man's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash, shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said "the judgments of the Lord, are true and righteous altogether".

With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan — to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace, among ourselves, and with all nations.”

(Lamento publicar estes textos em inglês, sabendo que muita gente da minha geração foi educada muito mais francofonamente. O problema é que não tenho capacidade para traduzir tão excelentes textos).