"The Lincoln-Douglas debates exemplified the oral tradition at its best. By
current standards, Lincoln and Douglas broke every rule of political
discourse. They subjected their audiences (which were as large as 15,000 on
one occasion) to a painstaking analysis of complex issues. They spoke with
considerably more candor, in a pungent, colloquial, sometimes racy style,
than politicians think prudent today. They took clear positions from which
it was difficult to retreat. They conducted themselves as if political
leadership carried with it an obligation to clarify issues instead of merely
getting elected. The contrast between these justly famous debates and
present-day presidential debates, in which the media define the issues and
draw up the ground rules, is unmistakable and highly unflattering to
ourselves."
So wrote an astute observer of American politics and life named Christopher
Lasch years before the presidential "debates" were drawing their questions
from technological achievements like YouTube.
Last week's Republican presidential debate out of St. Petersburg, Fla., was
more of an instant elimination contest. It might as well have been emceed by
Donald Trump rather than an anchorman. It was a great debate the way a
reality show is Shakespeare.
I use the term emcee, as in Master of Ceremonies, rather than moderator,
advisedly. For the role of ringmaster in this kind of circus of
superficiality is not to moderate the proceedings but to fire them up. His
job is to put the participants through their paces and preferably on the
spot. He's there to guard against any vestige of sustained thought marring
the night's entertainment.
After watching this latest carnival styled a debate, it is hard to believe
there was a time when leading American politicians cared less about winning
a particular office than about swaying their listeners, perhaps even their
opponent, to their point of view. Such a leader might even understand that,
with great questions at stake, it was less important whether he won or lost
than whether the principles he championed would prevail.
The Lincoln-Douglas debates of 1858 set the standard for American political
dialogue as the Union itself lurched from one crisis to the next, with
secession and civil war in the wings. Technologically, those debates were
primitive compared to our modern televised variety, complete with high-tech
gizmos and instant polls. But in their old-style rhetoric, in their
recurrent return to first principles, in their attempt to grapple with grave
and pressing issues, or even find some way around them, Lincoln-Douglas made
today's rhetorical exchanges look simple-minded.