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They were the perfect words.
They were uttered by America’s foremost political orator.
The words set the stage for a new America.
The day was a dark one — not unlike the day that dark clouds hung over America on September 11, 2001.
America’s sense of selfhood had been shattered by a surprise attack on a place that most Americans had never heard of.
The words defined the past and foreshadowed a perilous but ultimately promising future.
The scene was America’s most famous parlor in its most famous House, where for more than 150 years America’s future was debated and decided.
The gallery featured America’s representatives, elected leaders from the four corners of the Country. All political stripes — from left to right, north to south, east to west, old and young — were seated in the room.
Some represented big states, some came from small states. Leaders from the farms and factories, cities and newly created suburbs sat in the room. People of all faiths sat in the room and said a silent prayer for America.
America had been frozen in a fierce debate over its future; whether it was tied to the struggles in other parts of the world or should be isolated from them using the friendly oceans as a shield against distant tyrannies. America had watched while destructive wars waged in Europe and the Far East.
The orator was a master of the theatrics of politics. He knew that his words could carry the country into the future or the wrong words might make his compatriots fearful of a difficult challenge.
The orator had mastered the technology of the day. He knew that a radio broadcast — the new technology — united a nation behind a single voice. His fireside chats had allowed him to share time with America’s families and made him a guest in every home. The words would be heard in living rooms, dinners and train stations across the nation and in the capitals of belligerent nations.
He stood at a podium, straining to hold his weary legs beneath him. He summoned all his strength in his voice, knowing a country would not follow a timid voice into uncharted territory.
In reciting the words, he borrowed from America’s most hallowed political rhetoric. His invocation of the first word recalled the start of the 10-sentence address made by one of his predecessors, who, standing in a field in Gettysburg, traced his connection to the country’s founding by invoking the notion of time — “four score and seven years ago” — and reminding everyone that an inspiring past demanded a commitment to prevail in the present to ensure a better future.
The orator also stole a cue from classic Greek orators in invoking kairos, the classical rhetorical tradition that the most powerful speech is one delivered at a precise moment, immediately after a climatic event. When he took the podium, the orator and his compatriots had been aware of the events that he presented for less than a full day.
The orator started the speech without a lengthy introduction. He got right to the point.
He pronounced all three of the syllables in the first word. He enunciated each one. He needed to draw a line in the sand, one that would commit the nation to an arduous struggle. His delivery was sharp as he clipped each syllable.
He knew that the first word would draw a line between the past and future. What had occurred in the past would be forgotten in a frenzied future.
The first word, starting his oration, was simple: “yesterday.”
After that word, he defined “yesterday” as the “day of infamy” and set America on a new course.
The second word — an adjective — dominated the penultimate sentence of his speech.
The orator needed to assure Americans that their country would never retreat from the principles enshrined in its glorious past.
He needed to tell the world by the sound of his voice that America would not waiver until it had triumphed in its fight against what he later referred to the “schemings of unworthy men.”
He selected a three-syllable adjective and clipped every syllable as he neared the end of his speech. The word would guarantee that America would persevere to victory. The word would make the coming struggle appear to certain, even as the clouds of war around the world made it seem beyond his reach.
The adjective was “inevitable”, and it described the word “triumph.”
In those two words, the orator described how America’s cherished past — “yesterday” — and its challenging “present” would give way to a glorious future – the “inevitable” future as America’s people went to war.
He invoked his faith in “the unbounding determination of our people” and his faith in God to gain the “inevitable” triumph, as he ended his speech.
His choice of those two words – one focused on the past and the other on the future — ushered in a new America on that day, December 8, 1941 — when President Franklin Roosevelt asked for a declaration of war against the Empire of Japan.
As he predicted, America was never the same.
Richard A. Dollinger is a retired judge of the New York Court of Claims. He supervised town and village judges in five counties in the 7th Judicial District for six years before retiring in 2022.
