Frank van Hoorn is speechwriter at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in the Netherlands. He is also author of the book ‘Vuil van de reis‘ (‘Travel-stained’ as well as ‘The Stain of Travel’).
One of my favourite speakers is the Chief Rabbi, Lord Sacks. He’s also a trenchant political thinker. One of his preoccupations is his fear that our societies are falling apart.
He wrote a book called The Home We Build Together, which analysed British national identity and the challenge of multiculturalism. He says the British define themselves with static images – long shadows over the county ground, spinsters cycling to Evensong, warm beer etc. And he explains how British values emerge in schools, universities and regiments, where enthusiasm and effort are frowned upon.
The Chief Rabbi compares this unfavourably with America, where there is a national purpose. America and Israel are nations built on covenants – powerful stories about belonging, like the building of the Tabernacle or rituals like the Inaugural Address invoking the blessing of God upon the people.
The Chief Rabbi thinks that Britain as an idea is at risk. He proposes a programme of ‘nation building’, that means creating institutions and rituals that bring the different interests: religious, academic, political and scientific together to remoralise the country.
Luuk van Middelaar isn’t a rabbi, but he has rabbinical gift for telling good stories and making ideas accessible.
He has written a book describing how several tribes have come together over the past 60 years to build a ‘European’ community, state, union or nation, depending on how you want to see it. He lists three forms of European co-operation: ‘The Europe of States’, ‘The Europe of Citizens’ and ‘The Europe of Offices’.
The ‘Europe of States’ is the principle that European politics has most to gain from co-operation between governments. There is no need for institutions. Sovereign governments pursue peace and prosperity for their peoples through diplomatic exchange.
The ‘Europe of Citizens’ is the principle that state powers need to be transferred to a European government, parliament and court paving the way for a federation.
The model is the American republic, where central bodies exercise power over citizens directly.
The ‘Europe of Offices’ is the principle of transferring functions to a European bureaucracy. A rational bureaucracy will steer the ship. There doesn’t need to be a visionary goal.
The European Union has applied all three principles in its development of its key institutions: the Council, the Parliament and the Commission.
Middelaar’s book poses the question, how has the idea of Europe evolved? And what path will it pursue in the future? He enumerates three conceptions of the Union.
The German way: this is based on promoting shared destiny. The tools to do this include a flag, symbolic coins and pantheon of dead ‘founders’. The mechanism works in the same way as Italy was created. The Italian parliamentarian Massimo d’Azeglio, shortly after national unification in 1860 said, ‘We have made Italy. Now we must make Italians’.
Then there is the Roman way: this builds a union based on rights and freedoms and material benefits like security, opportunities and money. When Margaret Thatcher stated we want ‘our money back’ she broke a taboo about calculating net receipts. The concept of ‘our’ upset the notion of a ‘European’ we. A Dutch Parliamentarian has argued: ‘Money makes Europe visible to residents’ and is therefore, ‘a fine way to generate a European consciousness’.
And then there is the Greek way: debate, drama and democratic representation. We all need to have a say. They created a parliament, direct elections and a conception of citizenship to promote these ideals. We do see drama on the European stage. National politicians have to square agreements at the European table and then their electorates back home. British MEP’s rant and rave at the high and mighty of the Commission. The British referendum, should it happen, will be an important test of the Greek model. What will happen if a nation state decides to leave the Union?
Is there a European identity? Is the association durable? It wasn’t something that emerged as a result of the will of the peoples, it has been built by politicians. What it is has in common with the founding of Israel, is that the peoples have a habit of backsliding and complaining that they were better off with the fleshpots of the past. The Chief Rabbi states often that Europe is dying. A culture of “consumerism and instant gratification” has led to falling birth rates.
He says what we need is a creative and dynamic purpose. Since Europe is formed from the conflict of interests among nation states perhaps it does have a destiny.
Maybe it’s like the Biblical Tabernacle – the sheer fact of bringing together the creative gifts of 27 nations: German fiscal responsibility, French bureaucratic dexterity, British institutional pragmatism, creates something greater than the sum of its parts.
This is a beautifully translated book, rich in ideas and reflections. It’s a meticulous chronicle of the vacillations, setbacks and compromises that have characterised the European project. Luuk van Middelaar writes with panache. He talks of Europe being a campfire, with the member states having to shuffle across to accommodate new members.
He compares the evolution of Europe with the C12th conception of Purgatory as an idea, just for fun. He speculates on what might constitute a European identity, mentioning that a writer once claimed to be able to tell blindfold whether he was in Europe or somewhere else. It turns out Europe can be heard and smelt: barking dogs, church bells and children playing outdoors. As a British person I’m grateful to Middelaar for writing an accessible history, a valuable reference book and an antidote to Eurosceptic newspaper prejudice.
Luuk van Middelaar will be speaking at the European Speechwriter Network conference on 19 & 20 September 2013 in Brussels
The German playwright, Heinrich von Kleist, wrote an essay in 1807 On the Gradual Formulation of Thoughts While Speaking.
The significance of this essay for speechwriters is that he suggests a way to clarify thoughts is not through reflection but by speaking.
He begins:
My dear thoughtful friend: if there is something you want to know without being able to find it out through meditation, turn to any acquaintance you run into to talk about the matter.
Kleist suggests that the person you’re talking to doesn’t need to be clever or know anything about the subject under discussion.
As an example he quotes how the great French playwright, Molière, would test a good line out on his maid, and he claimed that her judgement was usually more sound than his own. The German playwright suggests that creativity is a flowing process:
The French say l’appétit vient en mangeant, and this empirical maxim remains true if one makes a parody of it and says l’idée vient en parlant.
He explains how he can struggle with an obscure mathematical problem for hours without any joy.
But if he turns to his sister, by the sheer fact of listening to him, she gets his brain to work on the solution.
It works even better if she has reason to interrupt him, because that excites his brain to finish what he is saying, and raises the quality of his output.
The other person’s face is a curious source of inspiration for a person who speaks. A single glance which indicates that a half-expressed thought is already understood, bestows on us the other half of the formulation.
He goes on to suggest that great orators often open their mouths without knowing what they’re going to say. But the situation, and the tension of the occasion, inspire them to become eloquent.
Dale Carnegie puts this in a more banal way. If you knock someone over in the street, you will soon find they have something to say.
The film maker, Mike Leigh, is famous for his improvisational techniques. He creates plays by putting his characters in rehearsal through the experiences in the plot without knowledge of what is going to happen. By recording the reactions of the cast, he generates text.
The final script is a filtered version of that text. So the script can be both spontaneous, and yet, fixed, to make it both fresh and easy to film.
For speechwriters it is appropriate to play the role of Kleist’s sister, stimulating the speaker to produce thoughts, and then with frequent attempts to interrupt the flow of thought, you can stir up the mind of the person, thus producing sharper and more colourful ideas.
Frans Timmermans, Dutch Minister of Foreign Affairs
Search Linkedin for those people who share a vocation for speechwriting across Europe, and you’ll find a few German Redenschreiber, a small well-connected gang of Danish taleskriver, but hundreds of Dutch speechschrijver.
Perhaps because of some rhetorical tradition, or quirk of their educational system, the Netherlands breeds speechwriters.
This would be fine. After all nobody is going to take over the world gurgling Dutch.
What is extraordinary is the number of Dutch who can write accessible, idiomatic speeches in English with a deep and sensitive knowledge of the culture.
Yesterday I attended the Policy Network event on Europe at the Guildhall in London.
The Finnish Commissioner Olli Rehn spoke well, but it took a while to tune into his accent, and he never really rose above a few technocratic phrases.
What a contrast with Frans Timmermans, the Dutch Foreign Minister.
Timmermans began by quoting Monty Python’s Life of Brian, ‘What have the Romans done for us?’ – which was a witty way to question Euroscepticism. You couldn’t hear any accent whatsoever in Mr Timmermans voice. He was flamboyant, funny and persuasive.
He talked about the disconnection between European bureaucrats and citizens. He made the simple point that if Britain left the EU, it couldn’t defend Scottish salmon producers from Norwegian competition. He said he wanted the British to be part of Europe and told us that British civil servants were very effective within the Commission.
It was stirring stuff. Where do we find similar speeches from pro-European British MPs?
Timmermans even had the audacity to warn us by paraphrasing our greatest orator: “As Winston Churchill said, if you feed the crocodile of Euroscepticism – my addition to this quote – the only thing you will achieve is the crocodile will eat you last.”
The keynote of the day was to come from Herman Van Rompuy. Nigel Farage once described him as having ‘the charisma of a damp rag’.
Rompuy has an accent, but his speech comprised simple sentences with some sensitive use of metaphor. Lines like:
“How do you convince a room full of people, when you keep your hand on the door handle? How to encourage a friend to change, if your eyes are searching for your coat?”
Those of us in the know, detect the influence of another Dutchman on Rompuy’s speech, Luuk Van Middelaar, the ‘Jon Favreau’ of the European Council.
He has given the President an intimate turn of phrase, which was apparent in the London speech and the speech at the Nobel Prize ceremony last year.
When you also consider the fact that the prestigious American Cicero award for speechwriting in 2012 (which every speechwriter wants to win) was awarded to another Dutch speechwriter, Annelies Breedvelt, for a speech she wrote in English for General Peter Van Uhm, (see it here) you wonder, how do they do it?
Does the skill of speechwriting have a lot to do with understanding grammar and structure? Is it an advantage to stand outside the language you’re writing in? Most native speakers don’t agonize very much about how to say something, because it’s their language.
On the Eurosceptic side, we have talented speakers like Dan Hannan MEP, a kind of public-school ‘Ian Paisley’, but the great strength of these Dutch speechwriters is that they can make a persuasive case for sensible policies in a thoughtful and entertaining way.
Annelies Breedveld will be speaking at the Spring Conference of the European Speechwriter Network on Thursday 16 May 2013 at the Institute for Government. Click here to purchase a ticket.
What is Vital Speeches of the Day?
Vital Speeches has for 76 years now collected the best speeches from the leading thinkers in the world. The original idea, back in 1935, was that newspapers and radio so finely filtered what we heard, that it would be a service to the nation—Vital Speeches was then a very much America-centric enterprise—to provide a look at whole speeches, not just sound bites chosen by biased media organisations. That musty old mission sounds kind of modern, doesn’t it?
Three days in February 2008 changed my life.
I travelled to Washington to attended my first Ragan Communications Speechwriters & Executive Communicators Conference at the Mayflower Renaissance Hotel in Washington DC.
It was like visiting another planet and finding aliens there, who were just like me. There were over two hundred professional speechwriters gathered in one hotel. I had been invited to speak on ‘Writing Humour’ on the first morning. To my great relief, it went well, and my text was later published in an American publication, Vital Speeches of the Day.
During one of the breaks I went for stroll to look at the White House. I stared at the South Portico to see if I could spot George W Bush inside.
The American delegates asked me how things worked in the UK. I didn’t have a clue. I’d never met any other speechwriters in the UK.
In the bar, Hal Gordon, a former speechwriter for the President Reagan Administration, gave me a lecture on how the British political system worked. I’d never heard such an insightful American perspective. There was some truth it it, but it was a very romantic picture.
Later Hal gave a very inspiring talk about using stories in speeches. His tip was, save something good for the end. The end of your speech needs to get them applauding. He explained why Jesus used parables, and how we identify with different characters. One heckler suggested that Jesus used parables because he didn’t have statistics.
I got an insight into American corporate culture from Linda Rutherford from Southwest Airlines. Doing sales is not something Americans apologise for. She explained how Southwest Airlines had an internal speakers bureau, which arranged for company employees to go out and speak to schools and other organisations.
Drew Westen, the author of The Political Brain, gave an analysis of how to use emotions in speeches with reference to Presidential elections. The Americans are very comfortable talking about feelings. Something the British avoid, especially when talking about politics. We were invited to investigate our feelings towards a party’s principles, our feelings towards candidates, our feelings towards candidates’ personal attributes, our feelings towards candidate’s policies. Lastly we were asked to evaluate the facts about the candidate’s policies.
Westen ended by quoting Ella Fitzgerald, “It don’t mean a thing, if it ain’t got that swing.” You’ve got to connect with the feelings of the voters. Tony Blair was the master of that.
Mark Ragan, the CEO of Lawrence Ragan Communcations, was a very charismatic host of the conference. He looked a bit like Michael Douglas.
In the best tradition of British entrepreneurs, I took the Ragan idea and worked out how to adapt it. In 2009, we had our first conference, which turned out to be similar, but British. Many of the characters I met in Washington have become friends since, and a few have travelled to Britain to speak at our conferences.
Speechwriting work is often a lonely pastime: fellowship springs up very quickly among its practitioners at conferences. Every speechwriter needs to make one pilgrimage to Washington. You can still get a place at the 2013 conference. Click here for details.
By Fletcher Dean
Published by Vital Speeches of the Day, 2011
Fletcher Dean introduces his book as “a primer on how to write a speech”. And, as a primer, it works extremely well.
Dean knows the worlds of both political and corporate speechwriting. He takes a pragmatic view of the speechwriter’s job.
He’s not afraid to tackle the fuzzy areas: the relationship between script and notes; the fraught question of Powerpoint; and most importantly, the relationship between scriptwriters and their principals. Dean’s first command is to know the audience. What, above all, do you want them to do after listening to the speech?
Although the early chapters are somewhat checklist-heavy, Dean’s take is refreshing. At the heart of his approach is what he calls the Communication Hierarchy: five ‘communication possibilities speakers can achieve with their audiences’. At the base of the staircase is ‘Inform’; we progress through ‘Create understanding’. ‘Reinforce values’ and ‘Change attitudes’ to the ultimate purpose: ‘Elicit action’.
