Heuristic Rhetoric: Principles and Practice (Rhetoric, Politics and Society) 3030984818, 9783030984816

Citation preview

MIGRATION, RHETORIC, POLITICS AND SOCIETY DIASPORAS AND CITIZENSHIP

Heuristic Rhetoric Principles and Practice Gábor Tahin

Rhetoric, Politics and Society

Series Editors Alan Finlayson, University of East Anglia, Norfolk, UK James Martin, Goldsmiths, University of London, London, UK Kendall R. Phillips, Syracuse University, Syracuse, USA

Rhetoric lies at the intersection of a variety of disciplinary approaches and methods, drawing upon the study of language, history, culture and philosophy to understand the persuasive aspects of communication in all its modes: spoken, written, argued, depicted and performed. This series presents the best international research in rhetoric that develops and exemplifies the multifaceted and cross-disciplinary exploration of practices of persuasion and communication. It seeks to publish texts that openly explore and expand rhetorical knowledge and enquiry, be it in the form of historical scholarship, theoretical analysis or contemporary cultural and political critique. The editors welcome proposals for monographs that explore contemporary rhetorical forms, rhetorical theories and thinkers, and rhetorical themes inside and across disciplinary boundaries. For informal enquiries, questions, as well as submitting proposals, please contact the editors: Alan Finlayson: [email protected] James Martin: [email protected] Kendall Phillips: [email protected]

Gábor Tahin

Heuristic Rhetoric Principles and Practice

Gábor Tahin Department of Classics Clifton College Bristol, UK

ISSN 2947-5147 ISSN 2947-5155 (electronic) Rhetoric, Politics and Society ISBN 978-3-030-98481-6 ISBN 978-3-030-98482-3 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3 © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors, and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, expressed or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations. Cover image: ©Anton Petrus/Moment/Getty Images This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland

Violae Philomenae filiae carissimae dulcissimaeque quae bis mortem ex utero matris expulsit

Preface

This book has been in the making for several years. It bears the marks of many trials and tribulations. In a sense, the story of how the book evolved, the stages its writing went through and what influenced it are more interesting than the final text. The history of writing, however interesting it may be, nevertheless, has to remain in the background. Attentive readers will discover signs of the book’s development over time. They might also notice changes in how the concepts within the text evolved. Hammering out ideas was certainly not the case of the birth of Pallas Athene who sprung from Zeus’ forehead in full armour. I wanted to mention the evolution of the ideas in the book to emphasise that it is far from finished. In many ways, it is more an attempt to inspire new thoughts and discussions on how to do and teach rhetoric and oratory in the twenty-first century. Rhetoric and persuasion are powerful weapons, for both good and evil. I hope that some people will benefit from reading this book and may use it to do what is right and good. I received much encouragement and help from my colleagues at Downside School, my family and friends, to whom I want to express my full gratitude. My wife heroically managed our home and children day in and day out, while I chose the easy path and disappeared writing. The greatest credit should therefore go to her. I also want to give thanks to the wonderful people who read the manuscript and provided detailed commentaries. Dr Carol Vielba gave extensive and very helpful comments on the manuscript at several points

vii

viii

PREFACE

during writing, which made me rethink in radical ways the argument and composition of the book. Professor Michael Edwards scrutinised and commented on the draft text with the highest acuity. His sharp observations saved me from many embarrassing mistakes. My colleague, Dr Helen Kelsh, read parts of the book and gave me minute and incisive feedback on content, style and language, which was invaluable for a non-English speaker. I also want to thank my student Katharina Lutzenkirchen for her meticulous work of reading the manuscript and compiling the index. The book received much encouragement from a dearest family friend, David Emery, a Somerset gentleman and a scholar, who died suddenly before he could see the book’s completion. This work is also dedicated to the memory of a quietly extraordinary lady, Valerie Letcher, whose kind spirit and genuine scholarly interest gave a powerful motivation to continue writing at times of hardship. Finally, it is necessary to state the obvious. For all the help and advice I received, I bear full responsibility for the errors or mistakes within the book. Stratton-on-the-Fosse, UK

Somerset,

Gábor Tahin

Introduction

‘The problem is only to understand in what way it (i.e. a philosophical question) helps us to lay down a rule, why it soothes us after we were so deeply worried. What soothes us is obviously that we see a system that systematically excludes the structures which always worried us, that we did not know how to cope with, and yet which we ‘believed we had to respect’. Isn’t the laying down of such a grammatical rule in this context like the discovery of an explanation in physics, such as the Copernican system? Well, there is a similarity.’ L. Wittgenstein, The Blue and Brown Books ‘Nearly every philosopher likes necessity, but not chance; they want peace. But even philosophers need chance.’ H. Böhringer, Immer kommt etwas dazwischen, Enger Spielraum, Über bauen und vorbauen ‘… rhetorical theory cannot cast its net over the unforeseen, unpredictable, and uncontrollable moments.’ Ph. Sipiora, ‘Introduction’, in Rhetoric and Kairos: Essays in History, Theory, and Praxis, edited by James S. Baumlin and Phillip Sipiora It is not easy to give a convincing reason for yet another book about rhetoric, a subject with over two thousand years of history and a plethora of outstanding ancient and modern textbooks. There are probably two ways to justify publishing a book on the subject: one by claiming the persistent importance of rhetoric and the other by explaining that the ix

x

INTRODUCTION

book offers something new. The former seems to be the easier route, often taken by textbooks. Many rhetoricians would think that saying anything new about rhetoric is nigh impossible, given its millennial history and a long series of textbooks from the fifth century BC down to the present day. It is, however, the more intriguing route, and it is the one I will be taking. First, I want to state the book’s theme briefly. Heuristic Rhetoric: Principles and Practice introduces a new approach to the practice of rhetoric and oratory. The concept of rhetoric presented in the book incorporates elements from previous systems and expands these into a conceptual framework based on a new set of principles. The approach emphasises the need to strategically plan and adjust the argument (and its delivery) to constantly changing and potentially unpredictable variables in rhetorical situations where the temporal framework of events is not static (i.e. there may be alternative versions of what happened). In the Introduction, I will discuss some preliminary information, such as the various meanings of the word ‘heuristic’, which will be helpful for the reader understand the book’s ‘conceptual landscape’. The book is then divided into two main parts: theoretical considerations and practical analyses. The theoretical sections spell out the meaning of the fundamental principles which form the basis of the thinking behind the heuristic approach. The practical analyses will help the reader develop and reflect on advanced critical and strategic reasoning skills, which are required to understand and form an argumentative strategy in highly complex and challenging situations, such as political or diplomatic crises, where the ability to persuade others is of utmost importance. The two sections of the book are not hermetically insulated from each other. The theoretical part will contain many practical examples to illustrate the ideas underlying the notion of heuristic reasoning. Vice versa, the practical analyses will refer back to concepts presented earlier. Readers will start the book with a wide variety of preconceptions and expectations. It would therefore be useful to clarify in advance what the reader should and should not expect from reading this text. Most importantly, the book is not a tightly argued and meticulously annotated scholarly exposition of a rhetorical theory contrasted with other systems. The book is also not a standard guide to rhetoric and persuasion based on the classical tradition. There are many outstanding books that do an

INTRODUCTION

xi

excellent job of that.1 Finally, I did not set out to write a quick and easy guide on how to succeed in life with the help of rhetoric and persuasion. Many other people are certainly better qualified to write on such a subject. Readers, on the other hand, should expect the present text to introduce an approach to teaching and practising a form of persuasion in public life, called heuristic rhetoric. They could also expect a method which is an outlier and attempts to break new ground to understand persuasive reasoning. The book tries to establish a novel conceptual grounding for modern rhetoric and its teaching, while preserving the continuity of the rhetorical tradition over the millennia as far as possible. As such, readers should envisage a book which ‘goes back to the sources of the subject’ (e fontibus haurire) and brings out new insights for the modern student. What are the reasons that led to writing the present book? In many ways, the book developed in response to a challenge I faced and could not resolve for years. A host of modern and classical handbooks of rhetoric offer advice and tools for creating forceful arguments. However, they do not seem to teach the art of persuasive reasoning to those who wish to use rhetorical skills at an advanced level in areas such as politics, law, business or academia. It is true that many students of rhetoric use the tried-andtested classical methods, and it would be arrogant and unreasonable to assume that classical and modern systems of rhetoric do not work in real life. Why then should someone read this book? Rhetoric can be approached in many ways, and each may have a place. However, the existence of diversity does not mean that every approach is similar and has equal merit, or that rhetoric as a subject is exhausted. One reason which motivated the development of the heuristic approach is what we may call overcoming a particular system bias in standard approaches. Most modern and classical rhetoric books give a systematic exposition of rhetorical theory based, ultimately and often exclusively, on classical authors and handbooks. These works, with some exceptions,

1 I will name here only a very few, easily accessible ones. Heinrichs, J., Thank You

for Arguing, 4th ed. (New York: Crown Publishing Group, 2020); Keith, William M., and Christian O. Lundberg, The Essential Guide to Rhetoric (Boston and New York: Bedford and St. Martin’s, 2008); Lynn, Steven, Rhetoric and Composition: An Introduction (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010); Cockcroft, Robert and Susan M. Cockcroft with Craig Hamilton and Laura Hidalgo Browning, Persuading People: An Introduction to Rhetoric, 3rd ed. (Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014).

xii

INTRODUCTION

such as Aristotle’s Rhetoric, focus on classifying rhetorical figures and arguments for students. The problem seems to be that such systematic knowledge, while coherent and valuable, is not sufficient to analyse and produce speeches at the level of complexity displayed by the best examples of oratory in antiquity and modern times. Another related reason for heuristic rhetoric is moving beyond the cultural dominance of classical rhetoric. Rhetoric as a subject was developed and perfected in Ancient Greece and Rome. It is now a commonplace that oratory existed for millennia outside the Western rhetorical tradition, for example, in Ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt, China, Africa and India. These traditions are often underrepresented in standard treatments of the subject. This book will not completely break away from the classical tradition, but it attempts to provide a more nuanced view. The problems outlined above first led to my doctoral thesis, then to other writings which attempted to spell out the method of heuristic rhetoric. In 2014, I published a book, Heuristic Strategies in the Speeches of Cicero,2 which first outlined the concept of heuristic strategies and identified these in Greek and Roman oratory, the majority from the speeches of Marcus Tullius Cicero. That book differs from the present one in significant ways: it was intended for a specialist academic audience of Classicists; its main objective was to introduce a new form of analysis in classical rhetoric and show how patterns of arguments called ‘heuremes’ provide insights into the practice of classical forensic oratory; the concept of ‘heuristic rhetoric’, as a system built on four principles, had not yet been developed in the first book; it did not have the present volume’s practical focus and broad cultural-geographical reach. In subsequent years, the concept of heuristic techniques identified in Ciceronian oratory grew into a broader rhetorical approach, focussing on strategic reasoning in modern, practice-oriented argumentation. One of the most important questions for which the reader will expect an answer is what novel idea(s) the book offers and what makes it different from other rhetorical approaches. Two possible answers might be given here. One slightly scurrilous and provocative way to reply would be to say, ‘Well, carry on reading, and find out for yourself!’. However, instead of saying that, I will briefly summarise some features which are essential

2 Tahin, G., Heuristic Strategies in the Speeches of Cicero, Springer Argumentation Library (Cham/Heidelberg/New York/Dordrecht/London: Springer, 2013).

INTRODUCTION

xiii

to the book and which make the approach new. The book’s central thesis rests on the idea of ‘heuristic’. The term, derived from the Greek verb ‘heuriskein’, ‘to find’, is used widely today to describe various cognitive strategies and practical methods for solving problems. Heuristic methods can be methodologically organised as a process. They may be simple rule of thumb, trial and error mental shortcuts, which are sufficient to resolve an issue most of the time.3 Rhetoric itself can be regarded as a collection of heuristics, tools of persuasion, which help the orator to understand, create and deliver persuasive arguments in front of the audience. The notion of heuristic is multi-faceted and allows several interpretations. But what makes ‘heuristic rhetoric’ different from the concepts explained above? As it is used in this book, the term ‘heuristic’ defines a fundamental aspect of persuasion, the dynamic process of discovering, anticipating, changing and adapting complex, extended and variable patterns of reasoning through dynamic timeframes. The process addresses a wide range of situational variables, which create uncertainty and affect the outcome of the argument. The concept of heuristic reasoning has evolved in response to a basic feature of modern life, which might be called radical uncertainty. Today, events, many of them unexpected, often happen very fast. Things change quickly. Views, opinions and claims (accurate and false, verified and unverified) flood real and virtual spaces through multiple channels, such as the internet or television, each with its framework of interpretation, and compete for people’s attention and assent. Those who work with rhetoric, arguments and persuasion operate in such an environment. ‘Heuristic rhetoric’ provides, develops and helps discover persuasive reasoning tools, which assist in radically uncertain and dynamically changing persuasive environments. The idea of ‘heuristic’ in this book also represents a mental attitude to persuasive situations. It is the ability to see, understand and control (as far as possible) the complex set of changing variables that determine a case’s outcome. The concept of ‘heuristic rhetoric’ also describes a novel set of principles and patterns of reasoning, which help the orator or arguer control complex persuasive situations. Finally, the ‘heuristic’ approach represents teaching and learning the method of persuasive argumentation 3 An example of the first type can be found in Pólya, G., How to Solve It? (Penguin,

1990), the second in Kahneman, D., Thinking, Fast and Slow (London: Allen Lane, 2011).

xiv

INTRODUCTION

with the emphasis on practice, in some ways like the development of the common law tradition based on legal precedents, as opposed to a codified system of civil law. Heuristic practice requires significant flexibility in the preparation and delivery of an argument; therefore the system is geared towards teaching and learning skills instead of providing a comprehensive description of certain types of arguments. The method of heuristic rhetoric is best seen as a practical discipline with some fundamental principles that we need to understand to develop effective reasoning skills. It is important to note that reading the book will not make someone a great speaker, just like watching self-defence videos will not make anyone capable of defending themselves on the street. The analogy with martial arts is helpful. There are many ancient or modern forms of martial arts with different sets of movements and patterns. To become skilled, say in Taekwondo, the student must regularly attend training, follow the instructions of masters and learn the relevant technical language. They should exercise self-discipline, live by its tenets and constantly practise the patterns for the appropriate grades, together with kicks, punches, dodges and other means of self-defence. Learning and practising over many years will develop the student into a person capable of countering unarmed (and, in some cases, armed) aggression. The same is true of heuristic or other forms of rhetoric. The art of persuasive reasoning, just like other forms of art and skills, evolves over years of practice. It involves developing skills in writing and speaking, building a credible moral character, acquiring knowledge of sound reasoning and observing the best examples of oratory. A student who wants to achieve advanced persuasion skills will encounter a challenge in modern rhetorical studies. Many excellent books and academic courses provide instruction on how to speak or write persuasively. However, if the student looks for an internationally recognised curriculum, a common body of knowledge and a set of standards, as it exists in medicine, architecture, engineering or mountaineering, it would prove difficult to precisely summarise what a rhetoric and persuasion curriculum should include. There seems to be no agreement on whether to study classical or modern systems of rhetoric. Some teachers regard Aristotle as the foundation, others Quintilian or Cicero. Training courses may completely ignore the classical writers and teach modern argumentation theory or other related disciplines. Such diversity is not a problem, yet a student would rightly want to know if there is a body of knowledge and set of

INTRODUCTION

xv

skills they must know to be considered proficient and how they might progress further when they reach an advanced level. Scholars also hold diverse opinions about the nature, elements and application of rhetoric. Some see it as one of the greatest intellectual achievements of classical antiquity, which requires the careful historical study of the ancient authors in the original language to preserve its authenticity. Some see it as a powerful means of philosophical critique against totalitarian or repressive ideologies and regimes in modern societies, while others regard it as a collection of practical tools for persuasive writing and public speaking required for aspirant politicians, lawyers and business leaders. All these approaches can be justified with good reason and have a place in education. This book represents a functional view of rhetoric as a collection of tools and skills for persuasion. The word ‘functional’ means that ‘heuristic rhetoric’ borrows as necessary from various systems of rhetoric to create a method that teaches effective forms of reasoning in the modern world. The purpose of outlining the heuristic approach is to give a structured yet flexible framework within which rhetoric and persuasive argumentation can be taught as part of an academic curriculum, accessible to students from a wide range of backgrounds. The strength of the heuristic approach comes from its openness to a variety of other methods and disciplines, its flexibility in adapting the tools of persuasion, its practical orientation and its diverse applicability. It is a substantial route to acquiring advanced skills of persuasion. Like other intellectual pursuits, rhetoric benefits from a diversity of ideas. Therefore, I refrained from criticising and rejecting other approaches, even if I did not share their assumptions or methods. To keep the book’s focus on practical matters, I also avoided engaging with academic controversies and theoretical discussions of rhetorical concepts, such as contingency, kairos or strategic reasoning, however much I was tempted. While developing and testing the ideas for the book I often encountered robust criticism from academic researchers of rhetoric. Therefore, it is very likely that some people who fundamentally disagree with the concept of heuristic rhetoric question its originality or doubt its usefulness. Constructive criticism has always helped in clarifying ideas in this book. I also respect those who have a different, perhaps more traditional or modern, political, philosophical or specialist technical view of what rhetoric should be and how one must teach it. However, I also believe that students of rhetoric in practice benefit from many

xvi

INTRODUCTION

alternative approaches. Therefore, I hope that at least some academics, students, interested readers and professionals will find this book useful and practicable. At this point, I need to say a few words about the book’s intended audience. Most importantly, the book was not written with academic scholars in mind. I want to hope that it will merit the interest of some academic researchers, but, at the same time, I am aware of the book’s limitations. Instead, I intended the book to appeal to a broad, diverse and educated audience with an interest in using persuasive skills of speaking and writing. As such, I aimed to write in a relatively accessible language and avoid as much as possible highly technical discussions of rhetorical terms, as well as exhaustive historical and legal references. Every student of rhetoric is highly indebted to great books of scholarship, yet many readers will not have the time to consult these, so I tried to omit references to specialist works, except where I had to explicitly acknowledge my sources. I will also refrain from engaging in detailed arguments about the merits of competing theories of rhetoric. Inevitably, some places will require specific discussions of rhetorical principles or tools of argument. I tried to keep technical matters to a minimum. An openminded, benevolent and persistent reader will hopefully be able to read through every part of the book with relative ease and draw some benefits. The plan of the book follows a simple logic. In the first part, I will introduce the theoretical elements of heuristic rhetoric, preceded by a brief discussion of ancient and modern theories, since they are relevant for the book. The second part presents the analyses of speeches from diverse historical and geographical backgrounds. It is strongly recommended that the reader follow the sequence of chapters in numerical order throughout the book, especially the theoretical part.

Contents

Part I Principles 1

Classical, Modern and Heuristic Rhetoric 1 Classical Rhetoric 2 Rhetoric in the Modern World 3 The Emergence of Heuristic Rhetoric 4 The Character and Moral Responsibility of the Orator

3 3 9 19 26

2

Contingency 1 Preliminary Contingencies 2 Contingencies of Language and Argument 3 Contingencies of Delivery 4 Contingencies Created by the Orator

29 31 34 36 45

3

Probability 1 The Probability of Argument, Narrative and Evidence 2 The Plausibility of the Speech 3 The Credibility of the Orator

53 55 66 79

4

Temporality 1 External Aspects of Temporality 2 Internal Aspects of Temporality

83 86 95

5

Strategic Construction 1 Strategic Constructions in Classical and Modern Rhetoric and Oratory

101 104 xvii

xviii

CONTENTS

2 6

Strategic Construction in Heuristic Rhetoric

112

‘Heuremes’—Patterns of Persuasive Argument 1 ‘Initial Adjustment’ 2 ‘Representativeness’ 3 ‘Thematic Replacement’ 4 ‘Contrastive Probabilities’ 5 ‘Parallel Probabilities’ 6 ‘Simplification’ 7 Summary of ‘Heuremes’

121 123 125 129 132 136 139 142

Part II Practice 7

Classical Oratory 1 Antiphon: ‘On the Murder of Herodes’ 2 Cicero: ‘In Defence of Milo’

147 148 151

8

Modern Oratory 1 Barack Obama: ‘Speech at Election Night in 2008’, and Donald Trump: ‘Inauguration Speech’ 2 Angela Merkel: ‘An address to the nation’ 3 Vladimir Putin: ‘Crimean speech’ 4 Mao Zedong: ‘Speech at the Lushan Conference’ 5 Aung San Suu Kyi: ‘Speech at the International Court of Justice’ 6 Pope Francis: ‘Address to the United Nations General Assembly’ 7 Ursula Burns: ‘Speech for the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s 145th Commencement’

157

9

Heuristic Rhetoric in Modern Education and Society

189

10

Training for Heuristic Rhetoric

197

Bibliography and Recommended Readings

207

Index

213

158 163 167 171 175 179 183

PART I

Principles

CHAPTER 1

Classical, Modern and Heuristic Rhetoric

1

Classical Rhetoric

Classical rhetoric covers a vast field of study. It is a rewarding subject, yet the complexity of its history and classifications is daunting, especially if the student sets out to read the extant works in the original Greek or Latin. Several outstanding books provide an outline of how rhetoric came to life and flourished in ancient Greece and Rome (and beyond) since the fifth century BC. These provide a comprehensive description of the rhetorical systems developed by writers such as Aristotle, Hermogenes, Cicero or Quintilian, which the interested reader might want to consult.1 The purpose of this section is not to give even a sketchy historical overview of rhetorical theory and the practice of oratory. Instead, the relevant question for the present book is how the knowledge of classical rhetoric contributes to developing the skills of strategic reasoning.

1 To name just a few: A Companion to Greek Rhetoric, ed. by Ian Worthington (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010); A Companion to Roman Rhetoric, ed. by William Dominic and Jon Hall (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2006); Clark, D. L., Rhetoric in Greco-Roman Education (New York, 1957); Kennedy, G., A New History of Classical Rhetoric (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1994); The Oxford Handbook of Rhetorical Studies (Oxford Handbooks), ed. by Michael J. MacDonald (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017).

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_1

3

4

G. TAHIN

However, it is necessary to clarify two things first: the meaning of classical rhetoric and the relationship between classical and heuristic rhetoric. Classical rhetoric is a discipline to teach the art of speaking and writing persuasively. It was developed in about the fifth century BC as a system with a detailed set of terms, definitions, rules, schemes and figures of language, codified by Greek and Roman writers, such as Aristotle, Cicero and Quintilian. By the first century BC, rhetoric became a school subject for young men aspiring to participate in politics or legal practice across the Hellenistic world. Prior to and parallel to the teaching of rhetoric in schools, the practice of oratory emerged in law courts, political assemblies and special celebratory or commemorative events, such as funerals. The general assumption is that not only rhetorical theory informed the practice of oratory but also vice versa. Classical handbooks, and their modern varieties, provide practical guidelines about the parts of the speech, the forms of argument and many other aspects of how to speak and write persuasively. Many orators in the classical world underwent a form of education in rhetorical school or acquired the art in some other way, for example, by independent learning, imitation and observation of practice.2 When we read the speeches of the Attic orators and Cicero, we will notice that they used rhetorical devices in a highly flexible way, as their case demanded. Therefore, whenever we learn the classical rules of discovering arguments and arranging them, we must always remember that the systematic ordering of precepts was mostly for educational purposes. In real life, oratory was more a case of (almost) anything goes, provided the audience accepted the arguments as appropriate and persuasive. As I explained in the introduction, the heuristic approach was developed initially to explain the gap between the elements of classical rhetoric as a system designed for teaching and the most advanced forms of Greek and Roman oratory. Heuristic rhetoric was inspired by and shares some of its elements with classical rhetoric. The relationship between the two systems (and modern varieties) is not adversarial. The concept of heuristic reasoning was partly developed to make explicit areas not (fully) covered by classical theory. Such areas are, for example, informal logic, complex 2 Two detailed summaries of classical rhetoric as a system are Corbett, Edward P. J., and Robert J. Connors, Classical Rhetoric for the Modern Student (Oxford University Press, USA, 1998) and Lausberg, H., Handbuch der literarischen Rhetorik: Eine Grundlegung der Literaturwissenschaft (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1990).

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

5

schemes of reasoning in classical orators such as Lysias, Demosthenes and Cicero, or what we might call ‘sequential rhetoric’, a series of speeches on a single theme (e.g. in political campaigns). Classical rhetoric played for centuries and continues to play a fundamental role in modern education and society. Even today, the elements of classical rhetoric form the basis of education and training in persuasive reasoning, just like physics textbooks require a thorough knowledge of mathematics and classical mechanics before discussing quantum theory. Heuristic rhetoric begins with the assumption that the art of oratory at the highest level requires more than just a systematic knowledge of classical precepts, modern theories of argumentation and the imitation of ‘canonical’ speeches. Great oratory requires a flexible, strategic and often inventive application of the rules and schemes of rhetoric, as masterpieces of classical and modern persuasion show. The question for the heuristic approach is how it is possible to make sense of and account for the creative patterns of reasoning which produce persuasive oratory. The primary purpose of the book is to answer this question. While distinct in its principles, practical approach and selection of tools, heuristic rhetoric complements and builds on classical rhetoric. The fundamental process of preparing a speech through a careful selection and strategic arrangement of tools is at the heart of every classical and modern approach to persuasion. It is, therefore, helpful to provide a short summary of the traditional Graeco-Roman system. An overview—albeit highly selective, arbitrary and simplified—of the basic elements of classical rhetoric helps students of modern rhetoric understand the building blocks of a well-planned and persuasive speech. Some readers may find the concise list of terms trite and difficult to remember, just like lists of plant families and species in a textbook on botany. However, to make sense of their purpose, it is important to treat the terms as tools which describe various elements of persuasive speech and writing. The terms indicate the general structure of speeches and name common forms of argumentative tools. They are basic knowledge for any rhetorical reasoning, but they only become useful when observed or applied in practice. People interested in the art of oratory but not classical or literary studies are justified to ask what the point of teaching ancient Greek and Roman terminology is. There are many ways to answer this question. From a strictly practical point of view, the classical terminology may be ignored, especially if someone cannot dedicate the time and effort to

6

G. TAHIN

study rhetoric systematically. On the other hand, knowledge of the classical system has many benefits. It gives a structured view of the traditional parts of the speech, which can still be used today to order the sequence of reasoning. Knowledge of the ‘issues’ helps to identify basic types of cases. The topics, or ‘seats of arguments’, offer simple models to find the most appropriate arguments for each case. The art of speaking persuasively evolves through a long process. It does not just appear as an instantaneous event, thought or action. The speech contains arguments designed to convince the audience. It is nevertheless only one tool of persuasion and not the final product to ensure on its own that the audience accepts our point of view. The speaker who finds the most appropriate means for the speech and the delivery of the argument will most likely be able to win the case against opposing positions. The standard order of the persuasive process consists of five stages. First, the orator collects and prepares all the material necessary for constructing the speech. This preparation requires a thorough process. The orator needs to understand the claims and facts from both sides of the argument and identify the real issue. The next step is to collect all the evidence and information supporting their side. The main task then is to form a logical argument with the help of common and special topics, such as definitions, comparisons, circumstances and relationships between events. Second, the orator needs to arrange the material in the right order for presentation. The traditional parts of the speech consist of the introduction, the narrative of events, the statement of facts, the argument divided into confirmation and refutation, and, finally, the conclusion. Third, an appropriate style of language should be used that best appeals to the audience. Fourth, after careful preparation comes memory, which is an essential preparation for presenting the speech to an audience. The orator might read from a script or commit it to memory, giving it a sense of spontaneity. Finally, the orator should be able to deliver the speech, using appropriate dress, gestures, volume and tone of voice to put the audience into a favourable state of mind. Aristotle recommends that the orator consider three major factors in the process of persuading the audience, called character (¯ethos ), emotions (pathos ) and reason (logos ). They need to judge whether their own character is trustworthy and how they can make their personality appear trustworthy to the audience. They should then decide which emotions would help the most to move the audience to accept their case and then make an effort to arouse these emotions within the speech. Finally,

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

7

they should consider which arguments are most likely to appeal to the audience’s sense of common sense, reason and logic. In classical rhetoric, a central part of preparing arguments for the speech involves identifying the underlying issue of the case. The issue or stasis of a case involves defining the real nature of the debate. The standard theory of issues is divided up into four main categories—‘conjecture’, ‘definition’, ‘quality’ and ‘transferring’ the case to a different court or jurisdiction. In some instances, a case may not fit into any of these categories, which means it cannot be tried because insufficient evidence makes the question undecidable. The issue of ‘conjecture’ helps in ascertaining whether a particular act, for example, murder, has been committed by the defendant or not. The second issue, ‘definition’, is used if the fact has been agreed on, yet the two sides have opposing views on how to define an action, for example, murder or manslaughter. The third issue, ‘quality’, relates to how to describe accurately the nature of the act, such as manslaughter or killing in self-defence during a robbery. The final issue is used when one side questions whether a court which conducts the trial has legal authority or not. While the theory of issues has been designed primarily for legal cases, it could also be used in political assemblies or on other occasions, such as public celebrations or commemorations. A different way of looking at the elements of rhetorical arguments is through ‘proofs’. Traditionally, these proofs were subdivided into ‘artificial’ and ‘non-artificial’, although these categories can be interpreted in different ways. From a practical point of view, ‘non-artificial’ proofs can be considered any non-verbal means of persuasion. They include statements from experts and witnesses, documents, material evidence, prevailing prejudice against one side, rumours, the reputation or authority of the speaker, or any form of external force, violent or non-violent, for example, the presence of security staff, which may intimidate the listeners. One of the most famous examples of non-artificial proof in oratory is the trial of the Greek courtesan Phryne, defended by the Athenian orator Hypereides against the charge of impiety. As Athenaeus writes in his work Deipnosophistae (590–591, translated by C. D. Yonge, 1854), ‘when it was plain that the judges were about to condemn her, he brought her forth into the middle of the court, and, tearing open her tunic and displaying her naked bosom, employed all the end of his speech, with the highest oratorical art, to excite the pity of her judges by the sight of her beauty, and inspired the judges with a superstitious fear, so that they were

8

G. TAHIN

so moved by pity as not to be able to stand the idea of condemning to death “a prophetess and priestess of Aphrodite”’. ‘Artificial proofs’ are usually understood as verbal means of reasoning, corresponding to the three Aristotelian means of persuasion. They include arguments derived from the speaker’s personality, ones which move the emotions of the audience to accept the speaker’s conclusion, and finally, any forms of rational argument which use the force of reason to convince the listeners. In his handbook of rhetoric, Quintilian lists the most common forms of rational arguments as signs that prove with more or less certainty a fact or a claim, which can be derived from ‘nonartificial’ proofs. A large body of rational arguments includes the so-called ‘loci’, places which are patterns of arguments based on common forms of reasoning, for example, arguing from the causes of a certain action, the time and place of the action, how it took place, the circumstances or the ability of the person who carried out the action. A further class of rational arguments consists of examples of historical events or personalities in support of the case. Education in rhetoric could not have been complete without developing the skills of reasoning in practice. Schools of rhetoric devised different activities for students to display their knowledge of theory in writing and in public speaking and hone their reasoning skills. The first type of exercise, the progymnasmata, or ‘preparatory compositions’, was introduced at an earlier stage of rhetorical teaching. They took the form of dictation or independent writing. The set of exercises focused on practising the standard parts of a speech. They could thus include fables, narratives of events, anecdotes, discussion of wise sayings, arguments, praises, attacks, comparisons of people and personifications. These exercises enabled the students to construct complete speeches and perform them publicly. The two main types of public speech-making were declamations, in which only one side of the case was argued by the speaker, and the so-called controversiae, in which two opposing sides were set against each other on a mostly fictitious legal or political claim. It is clear from this highly condensed and selective account that classical rhetoric evolved into a comprehensive system of persuasive argument taught from the early years of schooling to the highest levels of education. The knowledge of rhetoric ensured that the citizen of a Greek city or the Roman Republic and Empire reached the social status accorded only to those who could express their thoughts in powerful language to persuade or entertain. Today, the place of rhetoric in society seems

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

9

very different. As an independent subject to develop the practical skills of verbal or written reasoning, it appears to have lost much of its prominence in schools or universities. This apparent loss of significance is, however, misleading. Elements of rhetoric and public speaking are taught across the whole school system from primary school to university, similar to classical Greek and Roman education. In a global and connected world of communication through a myriad media and internet platforms, advanced skills in the art of persuasive reasoning are more than ever necessary to develop and consolidate one’s reputation, authority and professional status in many areas of modern society from political life through media, business, religious institutions and law. The student interested in learning the art of persuasion would thus benefit from knowing some varieties of rhetoric today and understanding how different approaches describe elements of persuasive argumentation.

2

Rhetoric in the Modern World

It is a platitude that the art of speaking and writing persuasively pervades almost every aspect of modern life. The same was true in the ancient world. What is not a banality, however, is that people who possess outstanding skills of persuasion wield considerable power in public life. Politicians, royalty, businesspeople, bankers, lawyers, teachers, religious leaders, academics, managers, doctors, military leaders, social and environmental campaigners and activists, actors and tv show hosts, speech writers, social media celebrities and most importantly, parents constantly use skills of persuasion in the most varied forms and situations. Therefore, it is relevant to ask whether explicit rhetorical education at an advanced level plays a role in developing persuasive skills for those in positions of authority, responsibility and power. I am not aware of any statistical study of the question, but the answer is most likely to be no or very little. Nevertheless, it is probably evident to anyone who follows closely global events that the responsible and effective use of rhetorical skills and techniques is more necessary than ever. It seems that, unlike in classical times, today rhetoric must disguise itself in public. For example, public speaking, critical thinking and general composition (e.g. ‘transactional writing’ in the GCSE English syllabus in the United Kingdom) are still common ways of teaching effective speaking and writing in schools and universities. At the same time,

10

G. TAHIN

rhetoric in the modern world faces a paradox. While the skills of persuasive reasoning in writing and speaking are essential for universities, professional jobs and in social life, the explicit acknowledgment of one’s rhetorical education would be likely to put someone at a disadvantage. Universities worldwide often find it hard to offer or run degrees or courses solely in rhetoric. We would also be hard pressed to find someone who would openly admit that they are a trained orator who uses their art and skills to persuade others at work. The reason for the paradox is that somehow rhetoric is still widely viewed as the art of deception and subversion of truth. When the word ‘rhetoric’ appears in public discourse, it is most often intended as a pejorative term, a warning against pompous, empty and misleading use of language and attempted manipulation. This idea can, at least partly, be traced back to Plato’s view on rhetoric as a clever device to persuade people on any matter whatsoever without possessing knowledge, truth and morality. For example, in the dialogue Gorgias Plato represents Socrates as critic of rhetoric which is neither an art or a craft, but simply an ability to gratify the audience and obtain power through persuasion. A quote from David Bostock’s philosophical commentary on Plato’s Phaedo neatly summarises this view: ‘But rhetoric is no friend of truth. Skilfully used it will hide the weak points of a case by a distracting irrelevance or an emotional appeal; it will use fine words for doubtful occasions, neat antitheses for quite misleading contrasts; and above all the vigorous flow of the speech will carry the audience on with a momentum that gives no time for proper reflection’.3 The majority of contemporary rhetoricians would most likely reject this view, which is built on a misleading antithesis between philosophy viewed as a tool for seeking the truth and rhetoric as a means to cover it up. The point is simply that rhetoric as an academic subject and art is viewed publicly as a morally dubious practice. Many defences of rhetoric as an academic subject exist, so it is not worth putting forward another one. If any form of rhetoric yields genuine practical benefits, it will not require a defence. This book represents rhetoric as a legitimate, self-contained academic-practical subject with established principles and a set of rules which apply to many areas of life where persuasive language appears. Rhetoric as a truly interdisciplinary area is also connected to many other

3 Bostock, David, Plato’s Phaedo (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1986).

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

11

fields of study in the humanities and social sciences. In this sense, rhetoric requires proper learning, training, practice and a strong sense of moral responsibility to avoid becoming a force of destruction. To justify the value of rhetoric in the modern world, we need to see that the word is used in multiple senses, which are often not clearly distinguished. The lack of distinction creates confusion, which reinforces the antipathy towards rhetoric. In the following, I briefly try to distinguish between two senses of rhetoric, noting that any form of neat distinction is ultimately impossible, as there is considerable overlap. The first sense of rhetoric we might label as ‘academic’. In educational institutions, rhetoric can signify a field of historical research, a particular theory of language and argumentation, the elements of style or a tool for social critique. Though valuable and interesting in their own right, these areas of rhetorical research are not the theme of this book. The idea of rhetoric I am interested in here comprises the practical knowledge and skills required to argue reasonably and persuasively, compose compelling and entertaining pieces of writing and deliver speeches based on reliable evidence, analyse arguments, identify fallacies and frame issues. In this sense, rhetoric is often taught as part of communication or English studies and sometimes as a form of legal or business education. Rhetoric also describes the real-life practice of the art of persuasive reasoning. It appears in everyday conversations, social media, television, visual media and advertising and in more formal uses, such as parliamentary debates, political rallies, international negotiations, celebrations, commemorations and professional talks, to name a few. Within the actual use of rhetoric, it is also helpful to distinguish at least two meanings. In the first instance, which is by far the more common, rhetoric applies to empty and misleading attempts at persuasion. In the other, which should genuinely deserve the name, rhetoric stands for credible attempts to encourage, move, teach or convince the audience. Heuristic rhetoric attempts to represent a middle way between an academic discipline and a practice-oriented, skills-based toolkit for argumentation, which incorporates elements both from ‘academia’ and ‘the street’. A brief account of some prominent rhetorical schools in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries helps to show the background from which heuristic rhetoric evolved. Modern rhetoricians tried to revive and expand the systematic knowledge of persuasive devices outlined by classical

12

G. TAHIN

handbooks. In recent decades, theories described elements of rhetorical situations in diverse settings, raised awareness of audiences’ roles and psychological characteristics, and, most importantly, the standards and schemes of rational reasoning. I will summarise five approaches— New Rhetoric, Strategic-Maneuvering, Discourse Analysis, Framing and Critical Argumentation. A non-specialist reader may find the the next section difficult to follow, in which case they could move on without any detriment to understanding the book as a whole. The short survey does not lay a claim to exclusivity. The five approaches selected here offer some representative attempts to revive, expand and adapt elements of classical rhetoric to modern practice in light of contemporary research. One of the first attempts to renew rhetoric in the twentieth century came from Cha|m Perelman and Lucie Olbrechts-Tyteca, two Belgian academics from the University of Brussels. Their research on the theory of persuasive argumentation culminated in their work titled The New Rhetoric: A Treatise on Argumentation.4 Heavily influenced by Aristotle, New Rhetoric considers itself more of a philosophical discipline. In this sense, it was not primarily designed as a subject to teach rhetoric in practice, but as a theoretical account of argumentation as a justification of rhetoric in modern society against the claims of inherent irrationality and deception. Its purpose was to study the techniques of persuasive arguments, and the conditions of practical reasoning, which involves judgements of value and so cannot be unequivocally assessed by methods of formal logic. Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca conclude that formal logic is not a helpful standard to measure the effectiveness of real-life rhetorical reasoning. New Rhetoric has one fundamental insight which is highly relevant for heuristic rhetoric. Perelman and Olbrechts-Tyteca contended that any persuasive argument must be prepared with a specific audience in mind. The type of arguments we use, the common values we appeal to, the organisation and the language of the arguments depend primarily on the kind of listeners we address, the size of the audience and the way we address it—live or through some form of electronic media. Ancient rhetoric also recognised the importance of adjusting the content, register, tone and style of speech to the audience. Aristotle, for example, stressed 4 Perelman, Ch., and L. Olbrechts-Tyteca; translated by John Wilkinson and Purcell Weaver, The New Rhetoric: A Treatise on Argumentation (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 1969).

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

13

that the audience has priority over the speaker and the subject of the speech. A great puzzle for any type of formal, political oratory with a robust moral commitment is how to counter a speech that breaks almost every norm of rationality and decency yet still wins the audience’s approval. New Rhetoric does not seem to answer this puzzle. New Rhetoric gave rise to countless developments in rhetorical and argumentation theory in the United States and Europe. One of the most recent and influential of these is called strategic maneuvering by Frans H. van Eemeren and P. Houtlosser from the University of Amsterdam.5 Strategic manoeuvring evolved from the pragma-dialectical theory of argumentation, which is designed to provide ‘a normative reconstruction of the (sc. argumentative) discourse that results in an analytic overview of all elements that are pertinent to a critical evaluation’.6 Strategic manoeuvring advances a theory of effective communication ‘disciplined by’ the norms of rationality, which is provided by formal and informal logic, in particular, the theory of fallacies. It incorporates some elements of classical rhetoric into argumentation theory. According to this approach, the idea of reasoning rests on Aristotle’s distinction between rhetoric and dialectic. The latter provides the standard of rationality for discussions on general topics, while the former can be described as the theoretical study of effective persuasion. According to Eemeren and Houtlosser, ‘strategic maneuvering refers to the efforts arguers make in argumentative discourse to reconcile aiming for rhetorical effectiveness with maintaining dialectical standards of reasonableness’.7 The theory of strategic manoeuvring established three dimensions within rhetorical arguments, ‘topical potential, available at a certain stage in the discourse, in audience-directed framing of the argumentative moves, and in the purposive use of presentational devices’. A sound persuasive argument will use some of the standard common

5 Eemeren, F. H. van, and P. Houtlosser, ‘Strategic Maneuvering: Maintaining a Delicate Balance’, in F. H. van Eemeren and P. Houtlosser (eds.), Dialectic and Rhetoric: The Warp and Woof of Argumentation Analysis (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 2002). 6 Eemeren, F. H. van, and R. Grootendorst, Argumentation, Communication, and Fallacies: A Pragma-Dialectical Perspective (Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1992). 7 Eemeren, F. H. van, and P. Houtlosser, ‘Strategic Maneuvering: A Synthetic Recapitulation’, Argumentation (2006) 20: 381–392.

14

G. TAHIN

topics, takes into account the requirements set by a specific audience and uses rhetorical devices, for example, metaphors, to create an appealing and reasonable line of reasoning. The three dimensions, especially the so-called topics, show similarities with certain parts of classical rhetoric. A significant difference between argumentation in classical rhetoric and strategic manoeuvring is the emphasis on the rules of rational thought and argumentative procedure. The speaker(s) should not violate these rules to resolve an existing conflict. Strategic manoeuvring offers a robust framework for the critical analysis of argumentation and a model for resolving differences of opinion through a rational procedure. Each side in the conflict may use argumentative strategies, which combine in a consistent and planned fashion the topical potential of case, framing the argument directed at the audience, and stylistic features. For Eemeren and Houtlosser ‘argumentative strategies … are methodical designs of moves for influencing the result of a particular dialectical stage, and the discussion as a whole, to a certain party’s advantage that manifest themselves … in a systematic, coordinated and simultaneous exploitation of the available opportunities’. Some of the common activity types where the elements of strategic manoeuvring can be applied with considerable benefit are ‘adjudication’, ‘mediation’ and ‘negotiation’. A potential issue with strategic manoeuvring from the viewpoint of practical rhetoric is the plausible assumption that argumentation ideally takes place in an institutionalised, rule-based and (self-) regulated environment. In reality, however, much rhetorical reasoning happens in situations where these conditions do not apply (e.g. social media or political campaigning) or apply only in a vague, non-binding sense. The following three approaches aim to directly tackle the problems we encounter when applying the argumentative models described above to practical rhetoric. The first approach is called ‘framing’. The concept originated from sociology, where ‘frames’ are considered mental abstractions, concepts and perspectives, which organise, structure and interpret for the audience the message of a speech. Framing analysis was first applied to the interpretation of rhetorical texts by Jim A. Kuypers. According to Kuypers, ‘Framing, then, is a process whereby communicators—consciously or not—act to construct a particular point of view that

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

15

encourages the facts of a given situation to be viewed by others in a particular manner, with some facts made more noticeable than others’.8 He distinguishes four ways in which frames may operate. ‘They define problems, diagnose causes, make moral judgments, and suggest remedies. Frames are often found within a narrative account of an issue or event, and are generally the central organising idea’.9 Framing may refer to different aspects of rhetorical arguments, such as description through selection, emphasis, exclusion and elaboration. Thus, in terms of devising a rhetorical strategy for a specific case, an understanding and careful design of frames contribute significantly to the persuasive force of the argument. One of the most popular interdisciplinary research methods for the study of the structure of verbal and written utterances, and thus closely related to rhetoric, is discourse analysis. The development of the method is attributed to the work of the French philosopher Michel Foucault. In his ‘Archaeology of Knowledge’,10 Foucault suggested that discourse is not so much a specific set of texts or utterances, but a body of institutionalised knowledge which appears in statements which society sanctions as meaningful and in structures of discipline, and social control that ultimately serve to attain and exercise power. The purpose of discourse analysis is to uncover within acts of communication to what extent the social norms, identities, meanings, relations and systems of knowledge reflect and also shape society.11 Discourse analysis, therefore, offers a set of tools to analyse different aspects of language (e.g. vocabulary, figures of speech and thought, rhetorical schemes and grammatical features) and its relation to a specific set of social norms and practice. The practice of discourse analysis applied to rhetorical texts is based on, in the first place, a close reading of the text, followed by repeated readings and detailed study. The series of close reading and study focuses on any aspect or small detail of the text which may exhibit patterns, variations

8 Kuypers, Jim A., ‘Framing Analysis from a Rhetorical Perspective’, in Paul D’Angelo and Jim A. Kuypers (eds.), Doing News Framing Analysis (New York: Routledge, 2010) 286–311. 9 Kuypers, Jim A., Bush’s War: Media Bias and Justifications for War in a Terrorist Age (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2009). 10 Foucault, M., The Archaeology of Knowledge, translated by A. M. Sheridan Smith (London and New York: Routledge, 2002). 11 Phillips, N., and Cynthia Hardy, Discourse Analysis: Investigating Processes of Social Construction (Qualitative Research Methods), v. 50. (Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 2002).

16

G. TAHIN

and linguistic, stylistic or argumentative structures. Features of the text are treated as repositories of meaning, social values, norms, authority and power. Rhetorical texts, such as speeches, are almost always designed to achieve social, legal, political or other forms of control over the opponent and the audience. Therefore, discourse analysis is immensely useful as a tool to uncover hidden textual patterns of persuasion which the orator may learn to recognise, counter or apply. The final approach in this brief survey, which also had an influence on the development of heuristic rhetoric, is commonly called informal logic and critical argumentation. One of the most prominent representatives of the approach is Douglas Walton. In his book, ‘Fundamentals of Critical Argumentation’, Walton outlines the basic tools for the identification, analysis and evaluation of common arguments.12 Walton calls critical argumentation as a skill and an attitude necessary for the identification and critical assessment of arguments on both (or many) sides of an issue and making a well-grounded judgement on the validity, reasonableness and strength of arguments used in everyday interaction. The basic process of critical analysis begins with identifying the argument through key linguistic, semantic and logical features, followed by the classification of the argument or argument scheme. A fundamental element of the analysis is finding the (explicit or non-explicit) premises and conclusion(s) and establishing the overall structure of argument, including any connection between separate arguments. The assessment of the argument, according to Walton, follows a dialectical approach, based on three factors. The first factor relates to the type of the argument as deductive, inductive and defeasible. The second factor of the analysis is the acceptability of arguments, judged in relation to the parties involved in the argument. The final factor is relevance, understood as the standard by which we can decide whether the reasoning leads towards the final conclusion. Critical argumentation also deals with important contextual aspects of the argumentation, such as bias, ambiguity and the question of implied premises. As a method of systematic analysis and assessment of argument in practice, critical argumentation is immensely relevant for any student of rhetoric, developing a critical and acute sense of judgement about the strengths or weaknesses of one’s and the opponent’s reasoning. In practice, these skills serve two related purposes—as a tool of self-critical 12 Walton, Douglas N., Fundamentals of Critical Argumentation (Critical Reasoning and Argumentation) (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), Preface xi–xiii.

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

17

reflection on one’s own argument to ground the truth of the conclusion and as a tool to recognise and effectively counter the mistakes of the opposite side. The theories and approaches I outlined above are perhaps best understood as theoretical frameworks and practical tools. They are designed to analyse and assess the nature and structure of rhetorical arguments to avoid or defeat fallacious and manipulative forms of reasoning, the result of irrational and deceptive thinking. The question of rationality poses real and permanent challenge to everyone who applies the tools of rhetoric in practice. The requirement of rationality for rhetorical arguments is a difficult question, especially if we regard rationality in a theoretical sense as the ultimate standard by which to judge the value of rhetorical reasoning. In academic studies, such as science and philosophy, rationality serves the attainment of truth by means of experiments, solid evidence, sound argument and correct proof. Rationality in rhetoric is practical. It is directed towards the goal of persuasion. In this sense, rationality has a more complex function in persuasion than in the other humanities and sciences. A student of heuristic rhetoric would benefit significantly from studying the theories and tools I outlined above (and others I could not discuss). An advanced practitioner of rhetoric will have a broad theoretical foundation and a large pool of devices, which they can put in the service of persuasion at the right moment or when necessary. The speaker relies on reason to choose the right strategy for persuasion, prepare and present an argument to convince the audience to accept a proposition and act in a certain way. Rationality provides the standards of truth for the evidence laid out in the argument—the obligation to truth in rhetoric is not simply theoretical but moral. The speaker who learnt and possesses advanced skills of persuasion must recognise that such knowledge, not unlike the possession of military-grade weaponry, carries immense risks and, therefore, requires the highest sense of responsibility to avoid disastrous consequences. Every public speaker has a duty towards the audience to inform, remain truthful, and avoid lies, manipulation or deception. There will always be conflict between the goals of rhetoric and the requirement of adherence to the truth. Nevertheless, the moral obligation to be truthful, to avoid causing harm and suffering and to serve the common good is universal, and so it applies to rhetoric, too, even if pragmatic reasons dictate otherwise. While the obligation to be truthful binds users of rhetoric in public life like everyone else, we must allow that rhetorical argument presents

18

G. TAHIN

facts in a way that best serves its goal of persuasion. Let us take the example of a diplomat who needs to convince a particularly challenging audience, say the United Nations Security Council, about the necessity of launching military action to protect innocent civilians from immediate danger to their life. He or she will use the most effective methods of reasoning according to their ability. These may include, if necessary, a particular arrangement of facts or appeals to emotions and authority which are considered fallacies from a logical point of view. In this scenario, it would be wrong to dismiss the argument on rational grounds because it makes a plea to alleviate people’s suffering. Real-life rhetoric operates in very different circumstances from rigorous academic discussions. It is affected by very many accidental circumstances: the constraints of limited time, compounded by the difficulty of an environment with fast changing events broadcasted by electronic media, and the task of persuading a complex audience in a matter which cannot simply be argued based on facts, but on values. Modern theories of argumentation give a solid foundation for rational persuasion. However, for practical purposes, which is the focus of this book, they appear to be lacking in two important respects. First, the emphasis on the theoretical-analytical framework of rational argumentation implicitly assumes that there is often a stable institutional, cultural and intellectual framework for a debate that every party respects. Such an assumption makes it difficult to apply some theories in situations where the rules of rational debate are clearly not acknowledged or observed. Real-life rhetoric often operates in circumstances where an explicit appeal to rationality does not help persuade the opponent and the audience, but would even prove self-defeating. Second, when it comes to the essential tools of persuasion, modern theories often rely on classical models, such as the topics, stasis theory or basic argument schemes. In theory, there is no problem with this, as the elements of classical rhetoric can be usefully adapted to modern circumstances. However, there is an implicit assumption that the tools of classical rhetoric form a complete system, which only needs minor readjustments to be applicable in modern debates. Suppose we question this assumption and express doubts about the usability of classical tools. In that case, we must look for an approach to persuasion which complements the missing aspects of classical and modern rhetoric.

1

3

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

19

The Emergence of Heuristic Rhetoric

The brief survey of classical and modern rhetoric in the previous sections described sophisticated theories and schemes of argumentation. These aim to serve a dialectical and rhetorical purpose: to convince with reason and to persuade with arguments, personality, emotions and other available means, and to provide the basis for much of what we might call rhetorical education. This section will explain how and why heuristic rhetoric evolved, place it in the academic landscape and highlight some of the factors that contributed to its formation. Academic curricula in rhetorical studies usually include the study of modern and classical rhetorical systems, the rules of logic and informal logic, argumentation theory, readings from the Western rhetorical canon and the composition and delivery of persuasive arguments in front of an audience, for example, in academic conferences, debating societies and social or political action movements. Academic research complements rhetorical studies by critically appreciating a wide range of persuasive media, such as texts, speeches or visual forms. The assumption is that an academic curriculum based on these areas of study provides a firm foundation to evaluate and produce persuasive arguments in any profession or public office. Rhetorical studies, understood in the sense outlined in the previous paragraph, are embedded, although not always in a straightforward or obvious way, in academic departments and cut across curricula. Universities worldwide offer courses that are partly or entirely devoted to rhetoric in its myriad contemporary manifestations.13 Aspiring public speakers and communicators can thus study the art of persuasion at an advanced level. In practice, however, there appears to be a strange mismatch between the ideal outcome of the instruction in argumentative and rhetorical studies and the actual practice of persuasive reasoning in public life. Despite all the available academic material and opportunities for studying rhetoric, public speakers, politicians, advocates, campaigners or business people often lack sufficient technical knowledge or skills to persuade others with coherent and well-formed arguments. As electronic media and communication take a dominant role in our lives, people are even more likely to be inundated with rhetorical 13 Two examples (out of many): https://rhetoric.berkeley.edu/undergraduate-pro gram/; http://www.rhetorik.uni-tuebingen.de/.

20

G. TAHIN

arguments based on fallacious reasoning or distorted evidence. Such arguments often work through manipulation by the lowest common denominators in human nature, such as fear or greed. Conversely, people who possess good and convincing arguments often fail to persuade because they do not have sufficient understanding of their own public persona, the contingencies of the situation, the audience and the environment in which they speak. This paradoxical state of affairs is not the fault of academic rhetorical studies. It does, however, pose an important question: what practical solutions can academic research and training offer?14 This is not simply a theoretical problem. The widespread presence of disturbing and destructive theories and ideologies in the public sphere, and the availability of manipulative advocates for these ideas, pose a real threat to peace, stability, the rule of law, human rights and attempts to improve social problems. Rhetorical education, by the nature of the knowledge it imparts, has a duty to equip students with practical skills they can use to address effectively and responsibly contemporary issues. The apparent ineffectiveness of rhetorical education is not the only problem those who study the art of persuasion face. Without wishing to sound too pessimistic or defeatist, I mention a few more. The point is not to criticise any branch of rhetorical research or academic department but rather to show some of the challenges that every rhetorician must face, explain the background from which heuristic rhetoric emerged and examine how it tries to address some of these challenges. Most educated people today would acknowledge the fundamental role rhetoric plays in modern society. However, this recognition is not generally accompanied by the realisation of how much rhetorical education matters to society. This lack of recognition may be attributed to several possible reasons. Clearly, there are many misconceptions about the nature and functions of rhetoric. It is a fairly common phenomenon in public life that rhetoric is identified as a manipulative and demagogic form of 14 A personal, and therefore inevitably skewed, anecdote may appear instructive. A few years ago, I attended a conference on rhetoric in the United Kingdom, where I listened to a talk by an eminent American professor on the rhetoric of Donald Trump. Though the paper was interesting and highly instructive, I was hoping to receive an answer to the question, ‘What would be an effective rhetorical counterstrategy to the former US president, Donald Trump’s way of speaking and arguing?’. The speaker seemed to be at a loss as to what can be done. Worldwide events of the past ten years showed that he was not the only one to be puzzled and helpless in the face of destructive demagoguery.

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

21

persuasion, devoid of reason and morality (more on this below). Misunderstanding (and misrepresenting) rhetoric can be attributed, in part, to the fact that it is associated with a wide variety of areas of learning and practice, and this diversity can be mistaken for a lack of substance. Rhetoric may not command similar recognition as, for example, some of the sciences or engineering because it lacks a standard, widely agreed curriculum. This situation creates the impression that there is no universal body of knowledge that every rhetoric student would be expected to master. There could be a meaningful debate about which classic works need to be regarded as essential for all rhetoric students. Should we include Aristotle’s Rhetoric, the Rhetorica ad Herennium or Kenneth Burke’s A Rhetoric of Motives ?15 While diversity in rhetorical studies, as in other academic fields, is fundamentally important, a commonly agreed on set of rhetorical principles, technical knowledge and skills would help achieve the broader recognition of the subject it deserves. Another challenge rhetorical studies face is cultural, social and ethnic diversity. Classical rhetoric and oratory were in their infancy and during their development, culturally homogeneous and exclusive, bearing and reflecting the social and cultural marks of ancient Greek and Roman societies. Historically, this inheritance was passed on as part of rhetorical education because it helped to maintain structures of social, legal and political power and superiority in Western societies. Educational institutions today actively challenge this inheritance, partly by extending the rhetorical canon to reflect genuine diversity and partly by focusing on technical features of rhetoric and argumentation, yet a form of unconscious cultural bias still persists where otherwise valuable historical examples of rhetoric and oratory are taught. As a thought experiment, let us imagine a high-ranking political representative, who learnt the art of rhetoric through a curriculum heavily based on Hellenistic rhetoric, and speeches from the GraecoRoman world and twentieth-century Anglo-American political oratory. This person is sent as an envoy to conduct political negotiations in a

15 For translations of the two works are On Rhetoric: A Theory of Civic Discourse, Aris-

totle. Translated by, with Introduction, notes and appendixes by George A. Kennedy (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), [Cicero], Rhetorica ad Herennium, translated by H. Caplan (Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 1989); Burke, K., A Rhetoric of Motives (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press, 1969).

22

G. TAHIN

country outside Europe or Northern America, for example, in Iran. It is easily conceivable that the envoy would have difficulties arguing persuasively before a political assembly or religious community where cultural traditions and political assumptions differ considerably from those shared by Western liberal democracies. One inference we can draw from this example is that any type of modern rhetoric must be adaptable to a wide range of cultural, legal and political environments, not just in the idealised framework of Western democratic institutions. There is very little agreement, if at all, on what such an education should include if it aspires to transcend linguistic, cultural and political boundaries. One may assume that teaching a classical system based on Aristotle, Cicero and Quintilian is a necessity, yet such a view would ignore significant Indian, Chinese, Arabic, Persian or African rhetorical traditions.16 The heuristic approach to rhetoric thus emerges from a background which is fraught with many challenges, academic, educational, social and cultural. Heuristic rhetoric will not be able to find a solution to all these issues, but it strives to be sensitive and responsive to the challenges. It is primarily a practice-oriented study of persuasive argumentation guided by four theoretical principles: contingency, probability, temporality and strategic construction. The method aims to develop advanced skills of reasoning based on flexible patterns of reasoning, called ‘heuremes’ and other technical tools provided by classical and modern rhetoric. This definition will require further explanation, which will be given in the first, theoretical part. A key question for the reader is what sets heuristic rhetoric apart from other systems and theories of persuasion. There are several differences. Heuristic rhetoric, as I explained above, is primarily focused on the practical strategies of rhetoric (i.e. examples of public oratory) with all its random elements and imperfections. It also provides a new conceptual framework of how to analyse and produce pieces of persuasive reasoning. The four heuristic principles are designed to capture all important elements of rhetorical persuasion from a strategic point of view, including features that are not commonly treated by modern and classical theories. Its technical toolset is in part borrowed from other theories

16 A good example of what form this approach might take is Kennedy, G., Comparative Rhetoric: An Historical and Cross-Cultural Introduction (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008).

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

23

of rhetoric as necessary and enhanced by a set of complex and flexible patterns of reasoning. As I suggested earlier, some (perhaps many) readers will argue that classical and modern theories have already covered elements of heuristic rhetoric, and so a new approach is entirely redundant. Criticisms of this kind can be justified, but they are often difficult to resolve because there is disagreement about which concepts are or are not necessary to explain the function and mechanism of rhetorical persuasion. It is perhaps best if the reader adopts an open and charitable mind and delays immediate judgement on whether the new approach brings any practical benefits. A strong motivation behind the heuristic approach was to acknowledge and give central place to the notions of uncertainty and chance in rhetorical reasoning, the complexity of situational and argumentative variables and the constant requirement of adapting rhetorical reasoning during the process of persuasion. A further reason behind the idea of heuristic rhetoric is the assumption that oratory and rhetorical argumentation are more complex phenomena than standard theories of rhetoric describe; therefore, a new approach is necessary to complement the technical apparatus of earlier approaches. Finally, in the modern world, highly trained orators are expected to be able to argue across national, cultural and political boundaries. Rhetorical training must prepare students for arguing persuasively on the global scene, where issues could quickly develop in directions that the orator did not anticipate but has to address. Students of rhetoric and argumentation must be able to respond to the challenges present in any situation. They can achieve this aim by acquiring advanced skills of reasoning and obtaining in-depth, critical knowledge of persuasive argumentation. Understanding the basic concepts of the heuristic method develops the thinking necessary to recognise and assess complex circumstances in which a rhetorical argument evolves. These concepts direct the student’s focus on patterns and strategies of argument in classical and modern oratory. A strategic view of arguments teaches orators to deal with the instability and uncertain nature of political, military, legal and social issues. In some ways, training in heuristic rhetoric can be compared to the process of training to become a mountain guide. IFMGA-accredited guides lead others in some of the most challenging mountainous environments on earth with a wide range of hazards, where conditions may change rapidly and the risks involved are high. These professionals acquire

24

G. TAHIN

a wide-ranging knowledge from meteorology through geology to expedition medicine and a unique set of skills in rock and ice climbing, skiing and alpine mountaineering, which allow them to lead people safely in the mountains anywhere around the world. Similarly, the route to developing advanced skills in argumentation applicable in an international environment is long and arduous, and heuristic rhetoric aims to outline such training. Heuristic rhetoric does not ‘reinvent the wheel’ alongside other approaches to rhetorical teaching, training and research. The new method reinforces certain ideas and builds strategies of reasoning around these. Ultimately, the success of any theory and method is decided in practice. I have already made some comments about the concept of ‘heuristic’ in the Introduction. I will now add a few more points to explain further how the idea works. The word ‘heuristic’ in this book is used as a form of ‘fuzzy’ thinking for rhetorical reasoning, based on four principles: contingency, probability, temporality and strategic arrangement. ‘Fuzzy’ thinking in heuristic rhetoric, similar to the notion of ‘fuzzy concept’ in logic, linguistics and mathematics, can be characterised by a degree of vagueness, which does not mean a lack of clarity. Rather, it is a form of analytical thinking that applies its conceptual framework to the context and elements of the disputed case. For example, a complex rhetorical case in politics or law can be analysed from different angles (e.g. argumentative) to different degrees of precision or technical detail. However, the ultimate task of the orator is not analysis. They have to persuade the audience about a thesis. That practical task cannot often be accomplished by applying a high level of technical-theoretical analysis expected of an academic study. The heuristic principles themselves are vague in the sense that their meaning is not defined as precisely as mathematical or technical concepts, but they become clear in application. ‘Heuristic’ thinking does not simply involve ‘finding’ persuasive arguments which are, as it were, ‘out there in a specific case”. The notion of ‘finding’ an argument involves a discovery of a point or line of reasoning in an argument and presenting it effectively at a particular time. The ability to ‘find’ what is persuasive assumes that through training the orator develops mental models of reasoning and the ability to apply them to a case with a number of uncertain elements, such as the varied composition or potential hostility of an audience. One might say that such a process of ‘finding’ and ‘searching’ is strategic because arranging the details of the

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

25

case and the arguments follows a comprehensive rhetorical scheme that has the best chance of convincing the audience. Understanding the ‘heuristic’ process in rhetoric involves a certain paradox, a seeming contradiction between the ‘academic’ and practical sides of persuasion. On one side, the key principles of heuristic rhetoric give a conceptual and analytic framework by which elements of a rhetorical case can be evaluated from the viewpoint of persuasion. They are guidelines to direct the preparation and delivery of persuasive arguments in a case where a complex set of details allow multiple angles of reasoning. The purpose of the principles in this case is to find a ‘route’ for the argument, which is efficient, avoids weaknesses, counters the arguments of the opposite side and moves the audience to accept the conclusion. In a way, the four principles provide the theoretical foundations of the argumentative process, a systematic, but flexible structure to manage an array of variables in the argument. On the other side, a practical aspect of ‘heuristic’ reasoning cannot be mastered by a purely academic study of rhetorical theories and principles. This side involves the detailed analysis of a case and its immediate environment of facts and events, the construction of argument patterns and delivering the speech. Training in these areas follows a more or less ordered process. Success in persuasion is never predetermined (except in a dictatorship, but even there, one may find surprising arguments to change the outcome of a case), but always contingent and liable to change unexpectedly. Each argument is encountered at a place and time under unique conditions. However much someone is prepared for success, anything can happen to change the outcome of a case. In training for heuristic rhetoric, therefore, there is a strong emphasis on studying actual speeches from various historical, cultural and political backgrounds and understanding under what conditions they came about, how they were delivered and what contributed to their success, or the opposite. The ultimate purpose of heuristic rhetoric is to develop a set of persuasive skills and strategies. The orator should be equipped with these analytic and argumentative skills. They must be able to speak, write or act effectively in situations where complex probabilistic arguments are required to secure the goodwill and assent of the audience. In this proposition, a key notion is ‘probabilistic arguments’, which means that a particular case has elements (e.g. evidence) which are not (fully) agreed on or complete, and so the case allows different arguments to be made for and against. Persuading an audience with a probabilistic argument

26

G. TAHIN

thus involves tackling multiple layers of uncertainty. The orator in such scenarios can rely on heuristic strategies to achieve a favourable outcome. Every form of rhetoric assumes that a good orator develops an appropriate judgement about which strategies have a greater chance to succeed in a case. The ability to judge the persuasiveness of an argument at an advanced level involves the autonomous and creative application of strategic patterns of argument and the ability to alter, combine and adapt certain strategies as the case demands and the rhetorical situation evolves. To that end, heuristic rhetoric offers basic patterns of probabilistic arguments based on actual speeches. These patterns demonstrate models of effective reasoning in a non-prescriptive way. Elements of the patterns are flexible and can be modified freely. As I mentioned above, heuristic rhetoric is based on four principles which guide the entire persuasive process and distinguish it from classical and modern rhetorical systems. These principles are contingency, probability, temporality and strategic arrangement. None of the concepts provide an entirely new approach to reasoning in themselves. However, together they make explicit certain ideas which classical and modern rhetorical systems did not particularly emphasise. What makes these principles relevant for practical rhetoric is the fact that, in combination, they can offer a template for a vast range of argumentative situations in politics, law, business and public debates. The four aspects may be compared to the combined use of antibiotics in bacterial infections that cannot be treated effectively with only one type of medication. The principles will be discussed in greater detail in subsequent chapters.

4 The Character and Moral Responsibility of the Orator The task of rhetoric as an academic subject is to train students in the art and skills of persuasion. In this pursuit, rhetoric strives for a degree of objectivity, so the student’s personality and character are generally considered to be outside its scope. Therefore, modern textbooks of rhetoric do not discuss or set standards for the personal qualities and moral character expected of the student preparing to be a public speaker. Nevertheless, there are good reasons why a student of rhetoric should consider the problems associated with personal character and morality. In Book 2 of his Rhetoric, Aristotle devotes considerable space to describing the ¯ethos, moral character, of the orator. Earlier, in Book 1, he

1

CLASSICAL, MODERN AND HEURISTIC RHETORIC

27

makes ¯ethos, as it appears through the orator’s behaviour and the speech itself, one of the three modes of persuasion, besides emotion, pathos and argument, logos. There are numerous interpretations of the meaning of ¯ethos in a rhetorical context. I follow a simplified sense and assume that ethical considerations about the words and actions of the orator are relevant for a strategic view of persuasion. Another reason to discuss the role of ethics is the understanding that trained orators with advanced skills of persuasion carry immense responsibility for the consequences of their arguments. The history of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries demonstrates with considerable force that persuasion without firm moral convictions can have disastrous consequences, including hatred, violence, war, destruction, massacre and genocide. Any training in rhetoric must, as a result, reinforce the personal responsibility of anyone who speaks in public matters, whether law, politics, social, religious or environmental issues. In this section, I make a few comments about the essential characteristics of orators, their responsibility and moral standards. These comments are not intended to be exhaustive, only suggestive. Teachers and students of rhetoric should be able to discuss this topic at far greater length. The Roman rhetorician Quintilian states in several places of his Institutio Oratoria (6.2.8–18 and 12.1.1–45) that a true orator must be bonus , morally good.17 He is well aware that, more often than not, the opposite is the case, but he still insists on a high standard for the ideal orator. As he expresses it, ‘No one becomes a perfect orator, unless he is able and dares to speak with integrity’. To achieve this aim, Quintilian recommends the study of philosophy. He does not insist on the doctrines of one particular school. However, he recommends a cautiously ‘eclectic’ approach, underlined by principles such as moral goodness, respect for human dignity and usefulness for society. As I mentioned earlier, contemporary rhetoric does not place a similar emphasis on the moral education of orators. Most modern societies accept that people have profoundly different ethical views on many issues, and the state cannot and must not control the conscience and beliefs of its citizens. In parallel to upholding the freedom of conscience, modern societies agree on certain fundamental values necessary to ensure that people live in peace and allow opportunities to prosper. These values 17 Quintilian, The Orator’s Education, Books 1–12, edited and translated by Donald A. Russell (Cambridge, MA: Loeb Classical Library, Harvard University Press, 2001).

28

G. TAHIN

include the common good, truthfulness, justice, tolerance and respect for others, accepting the rule of law, rejecting violence, and respecting human dignity. While these values are generally accepted as fundamental, their application in individual issues usually becomes an area of conflict and debate. Rhetorical training should, therefore, provide a basic understanding of them. At the same time, it must prepare the students to accept that these values may not be regarded as universal in every country and culture, which does not, however, mean they should be abandoned.

CHAPTER 2

Contingency

This chapter will outline the first principal concept of heuristic rhetoric, the contingency of rhetorical persuasion. Rhetoricians will ask what makes contingency a novel or unique aspect of heuristic rhetoric, differentiating it from other approaches to persuasion. In a sense, the idea of contingency itself is not new. It has always been present in rhetoric (e.g. Aristotle Rhet. 1357a23–27, Alcidamas On those who write written speeches or On the Sophists ), but it has never been a central part of training in persuasion. Contingency is not simply the idea of ‘adapting the argument to unpredictable circumstances or changes’. In a systematic approach to rhetoric, there is often a danger for students to consider any account of arguments as comprehensive and apply these rigidly in practice. The notion of contingency attempts to break with the idea that any systematic description of rhetorical scenarios and devices is finite and definitive. It teaches students to develop a nuanced view of complex rhetorical situations and adapt their reasoning with ingenuity and flexibility as the situation demands. The idea of uncertainty is necessary to understand why some arguments succeed and others do not, regardless of or despite their logical validity. Beginning with the sophists in ancient Greece, contingency

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_2

29

30

G. TAHIN

has a long history in the rhetorical tradition, and it has been extensively discussed in modern literature.1 For this reason, I will not give a summary of various interpretations, as this would lead to other lengthy (though certainly engaging) philosophical discussions, for example, on what constitutes a contingent fact. My purpose here is to give contingency a practical meaning, which helps the student in developing the skills for persuasive reasoning. In short, the principle of contingency gives a comprehensive account of uncertain or changing circumstances which might (but not necessarily will) affect the success of persuasion. It is not possible to give a complete account of what counts as a contingent feature in a specific case. Nevertheless, some aspects of the rhetorical situation can be classed as uncertain most of the time. The principle of ‘contingency’ offers a framework that a student of rhetoric could use in assessing which details of the case can be uncertain or unpredictable. The main point is that the more detailed and perceptive the account of contingencies is, the likelier it is that the argument will overcome difficulties inherent in a case. The stages of rhetorical argumentation provide good guidance in identifying the contingencies that affect our case. Unpredictable circumstances might be actual or potential; they relate to what we know or do not know. They comprise information about the whole of the case, not just explicit information which becomes part of the written or spoken argument. Contingencies may emerge through the ‘lifecycle’ of the case, from the moment the dispute arises to the point the case is resolved. Contingency can be divided into three main areas: ‘preliminary’, ‘language and argument’ and ‘delivery’. As a simple example, let us consider a fictional case of a speech at an international political summit about placing restrictions on the arms trade between two countries at war. In the first instance, we must study the preliminary contingencies, such as the potentially volatile and highly fluid conflict situation between the two countries, the chances of agreement, any obstacles to agreement, and possible outcomes of the conflict. We should also assess any known, unknown, deliberately withheld, contested or agreed information, such as why and how the war broke out or how

1 I must acknowledge my debt to the excellent entry on contingency by Dilip Parameshwar Gaonkar, ‘Contingency and Probability’, in Thomas O. Sloane (ed.), Encyclopedia of Rhetoric (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006).

2

CONTINGENCY

31

the arms trade affected the conflicting parties. In the language and argument analysis, we must consider several factors: the lines of argument the opponents or we will likely pursue, arguments that can or cannot be included in the speech, evidence or arguments that could be withheld until a later stage of the debate, and what style of language would achieve the outcome we pursue. The contingencies of delivery affect the immediate circumstances of presenting the arguments, such as the time and the venue, how the audience might react and whether an event could disturb the delivery. At the final stage, we should assess the potential effects of our speech, for example, whether we expect an immediate cessation of hostilities or whether we should prepare for further actions and arguments to negotiate peace. The central lesson to be drawn from the principle of contingency is that the situation surrounding a case and the whole process of persuasion requires an acute awareness of a matrix of contingent factors affecting the outcome. A detailed knowledge of contingent details in a case is necessary for the orator to develop effective argumentative strategies to adapt to unpredictable and changing circumstances.

1

Preliminary Contingencies

In the initial stage of assessing the uncertainties surrounding a disputed case, we gather essential information to help identify which argumentative strategy will have the best chance to succeed. A crucial part of this information is what we might call the evidential base of the dispute itself. The traditional approach to preparing an argument is to find out the facts we know and then present them to the audience in as positive light as possible. The heuristic approach moves further than just establishing the facts. The orator needs to view the entire ‘landscape’ of facts to prepare for a dispute about a complex set of verifiable information. ‘Landscape’ in the present context is the entire group of available facts relevant for building up an argument. To obtain a ‘360° view’ of the facts, we need to consider not just what we know or will be able to find out. In a dispute, we need to make assumptions about the facts the opponents are likely to use and the ones they will most likely hide. There are often facts that we might want to know but will never be able to find out, which applies to the opposite side. The lack of information may help the argument or force the arguer to deal with probabilities. In some cases, the orator will have to prepare

32

G. TAHIN

for the opponent to distort the factual basis of the case or provide outright false information. Careful planning for these eventualities, for example, by anticipating and pre-empting the opposite side’s manoeuvres to discredit the facts on our side, will considerably strengthen our case. A classic example of (faulty) evidence-based rhetorical arguments is the debate which surrounded the rationale the US administration provided as a reason to attack Iraq in 2003. Prior to the beginning of the war, the US administration insisted for two years that Iraq, led by Saddam Hussein, had an active weapons of mass destruction programme. Subsequent investigations proved earlier suspicions that the allegations were not true, and the case was primarily fabricated based on weak and inconclusive evidence. A reconstruction of the ‘evidential landscape’ should be followed by setting possible objectives for the argument. The use of the word ‘possible’ is necessary here because it focuses on the heuristic nature of the whole process of reasoning. The usual assumption is that an argument has one objective, to persuade the audience about a proposition. In many cases, this is true, but not always. In complex debates with several possible outcomes or a lengthy dispute with a series of arguments, it is not always reasonable to set a single objective, such as winning the case. As the argument unfolds and the case itself develops, the objectives set at the beginning of the argument might also have to change. In our previous example, the debate about whether Iraq had a WMD programme, the United States had, on the surface, one apparent purpose, to persuade other countries that the allegations they made were true. On the other hand, it is possible to argue that the United States had several objectives in the debate, first and foremost, to provide a pretext for invading Iraq and doing so legitimately while gathering as much support as possible from the international community. A survey of preliminary contingencies also includes examining the people who are part of the argument on all sides. Personal factors in rhetoric are contingent because it is often impossible to predict human expectations, thinking, or emotions entirely during the speech’s preparation and delivery. Contingencies related to ‘people’ include the orator (e.g. their pre-existing and potential prejudices, the misunderstanding and perception of their character by the audience), the opposite side (the possible angle and language of their attack) and the audience (e.g. contingencies arising from the composition of the group and unpredictable behaviour). An assessment of participants enables the orator to choose

2

CONTINGENCY

33

the most appropriate strategy which suits the orator, effectively counters the opponent and appeals to the audience. The information from this type of assessment must not be understood as a fallacious ad hominem argument, an irrelevant and unfair attack on the opponent’s character or an attempt to flatter the audience. In the broader sense, an ‘ad hominem’ (i.e. ‘to the person’) form of reasoning adapts the argument to the people in the debate. ‘Adaptation’ means judging the way the audience and the opponent (might) think about the issue(s) in the debate and the language they use to express their opinion. A clear understanding of the people in the debate thus informs the choice of argumentative strategies and all the material information necessary to make a case. A significant aspect of a thorough examination of human contingencies is understanding the evolving relationship between the participants in the dispute from the viewpoint of persuasion. In the most basic model, this would only include two people, the orator and the audience, or three people, two opponents and the judge. In real life, however, the picture is far more complex. Often, it is not possible to talk about three sides, but four or more, for example, in an election campaign or a trial by jury. In some cases, the orator may not even be able to discern all the sides of the dispute, for example, in a live broadcast of a debate between several Democratic or Republican party presidential candidates in the United States. Judging the relationship between the orator, the opponent(s) and the audience is a complex, in-depth and rigorous task. As a general rule, an orator’s language and arguments should be changed with the rhetorical relationships to avoid stark and rigid forms of expression and opinion, which others could easily ‘box into’ simplified categories. Another critical issue to consider about participants is how individual personalities are a source of uncertainty. Modern political campaigns are often fought on the basis of personalities, to the extent that a candidate’s public personality often overtakes the role of arguments. In rhetoric, the classical view used to be that people’s character remains stable throughout their lifetime, and it allows plausible predictions about a person’s actions or credibility. The contingency of rhetorical character becomes an issue when a carefully designed public persona appears inconsistent with someone’s former statements or past actions. Preliminary consideration of contingencies, in this case, should examine to what extent the character of the orator and the opponents appear or prove to be (in)consistent

34

G. TAHIN

and how any potential issues can be rectified through modifying (e.g. by admitting and apologising for past wrongs) the public persona.

2

Contingencies of Language and Argument

In classical rhetoric, the language and argument of a speech are usually viewed as fixed once written down in preparation for delivery. In the previous chapter, I explained that classical handbooks, such as Quintilian’s Institutio Oratoria, give detailed instructions on the sources, elements and types of argument for proof and refutation. The handbooks also give advice about the appropriate styles suitable for specific types of speech and figures of speech and thought to embellish the arguments put forward. The classical teaching on argument and style is still essential to creating speeches. The problem with any comprehensive guidance on persuasive speech is that it could give students a narrow view of how written speeches perform during delivery and what unforeseen challenges could necessitate changes on the spot. Preparation is essential for any rhetorical performance, and most orators have either their full speech written down in front of them or at least notes, reminders or prompters. It then depends on the orator to what extent they follow the actual words or deviate from the script. The heuristic approach treats the argument and language as contingent because the rhetorical situation before and during delivery is rarely settled and certain elements of the case can never be predicted with complete certainty. A contingent view of persuasive reasoning and language does not mean a lack of preparation. It brings an additional dimension to the construction and delivery of the speech, which demands a high degree of alertness to impromptu changes and adaptability. In this dimension, everything prepared and written down becomes conditional on how the rhetorical situation evolves, not just during delivery but in the preceding and subsequent period. One reason why such a flexible frame of mind is recommended is the effect of modern electronic media, which makes preparation ever more susceptible to sudden changes, for example, in the opinions and possible reactions of the audience. A memorable example of the unpredictability of a situation and a timely assessment of contingencies is George W. Bush’s visit (the first by a US president) to Hungary in July 1989, as the country was transitioning to democracy after decades of communist rule. When the president arrived at Parliament square, it was still raining after a sudden thunderstorm. When

2

CONTINGENCY

35

the president’s turn to speak came, he said to the cheering crowd, ‘I’m going to take this speech and tear it up. You’ve been out here too long. Let me just speak from the heart and I’ll be brief...’. The president’s rhetorical act was genuine and effective. While the text of the original speech is not known, it was almost certainly different, possibly more elaborate and statelier than the impromptu performance. It also shows courage, confidence and good judgement about how language and argument can be unexpectedly and successfully changed if external conditions demand it. The question is how heuristic rhetoric prepares an orator for handling a case where argument and language cannot be regarded as set during preparation. Developing one’s ability to handle contingencies in language and argument requires different skills: having an excellent command of the delivery language, learning the basic types and patterns of argument and having the confidence to use appropriate stylistic forms of expressions, if necessary, unexpectedly. Good preparation also requires the ability to predict the stability of the argumentative situation before and during delivery. A laudatory speech in a Nobel-prize awarding ceremony allows a greater degree of predictability in terms of language and argument than an emotionally charged and chaotic election campaign speech. Heuristic thinking requires the orator to have an in-depth view of alternatives to what can be said and how. In terms of language and reasoning, it means that the orator can argue a case in different styles, registers and structures of argument. Planning for different scenarios does not involve writing several speeches for the same occasion. Instead, it demands a dynamic view of the persuasive process, where specific arguments could be left out or their sequence changed. One way to achieve this aim is by ‘over-preparing’ for the speech and building a stock of arguments in case preparations prove to be inadequate as the rhetorical situation changes unexpectedly, for example, due to the audience’s reaction. A good test of the ability to adapt the argument and language of a speech is rehearsing in front of an audience whose task is to distract or disrupt the orator with unexpected reactions, such as sudden outbursts of approval or disapproval or non-verbal signalling of emotions.

36

G. TAHIN

3

Contingencies of Delivery

The third set of contingencies comprises any eventuality that arises during delivery in front of the audience. Traditionally, advice on delivering a speech did not receive as much attention as preparation, and recommendations mainly focused on the behaviour of the orator. Quintilian, for example, discusses (Inst. Orat. 11.3) body posture, facial expression, holding the head, neck, shoulders, arms and legs, gesticulation and wearing the right type of clothes. Today, public speaking is an independent subject in its own right, with extensive academic literature. Modern textbooks discuss other areas of delivery as well, such as voice modulation, breathing, managing anxiety and controlling speech problems, for a successful presentation. These are undoubtedly essential elements of delivery, which students of oratory must learn to master in front of an audience, in physical reality or mediated through television or the internet. Heuristic rhetoric incorporates the practical elements of delivery and places these into the framework of contingent factors in persuasion. The existence of the framework underlines the fact that these elements are an integral part of persuasion, not add-ons to preparations for making an argument. It is possible, for example, that the preparation and delivery of the argument are part of the same process or that the argument undergoes substantial but unplanned changes. Extensive preparation for delivery decreases the chances of being caught out by an unexpected challenge. However, delivering a speech never takes place under set conditions fully controlled by the orator, regardless of experience, practice, and preparation. In this complex environment, the orator is only one element. However, from the viewpoint of persuasion, the orator is better understood as a contingent set of internal and external features, such as their state of mind, current mood, emotions, health and physical ability. Other contingent components of the persuasive environment are the audience, the place of delivery, its atmosphere and the time. All these ‘internal’ and ‘external’ factors are liable to change and the orator must develop an awareness and skills to control them. A recent example of how an orator’s physical state and other external factors can suddenly change the course of delivery is the former UK Prime Minister Theresa May’s closing address to the Conservative Party’s conference in October 2017. During the speech, the speaker was interrupted by a prankster who handed her a final tax note

2

CONTINGENCY

37

to suggest that she should leave her office. She then repeatedly broke out into coughing fits. Finally, two letters of the party’s slogan on the stage set fell off. Commentators suggested that the speech, destined to unify and re-energise the Conservative Party, reinforced the opposite image. It came to be a symbol of failure to bring the Conservative party together and achieve a common ground necessary to complete Britain’s departure from the European Union. Another famous example of how external circumstances might affect the orator’s performance is M. Tullius Cicero’s defence of T. Annius Milo against the charge of murdering P. Clodius Pulcher, his main political adversary in 52 BC.2 According to the Greek biographical writer Plutarch, Cicero became so agitated at the sight of the crowds that his body was trembling, his voice faltered and he could not successfully finish his speech the way he planned it. The incident (and the overwhelming evidence against him) led to Milo’s defeat. He lost the trial and was exiled from Rome for the rest of his life. The case created such public disturbance in contemporary Rome that soldiers guarded the Forum Romanum, where the speech was delivered. Whatever the truth is about the incident, it demonstrates how a set of external circumstances could upset even one of the most accomplished orators in antiquity. ‘Real’ contingencies are most likely to arise during delivery and must be addressed then. Such events can happen for several internal or external reasons. Most of these arise due to the orator himself or due to the opponent(s), the audience, the place or the time of delivery. An orator should be able to have a constant awareness of these contingencies and develop the skills to deal with them as they appear. In the earlier example of Theresa May’s conference speech, the prime minister and her speechwriters could assume that the highly anticipated occasion might be challenging due to many foreseeable ‘stress-factors’ and suggest ways to manage disturbing moments. In this particular case, a slightly relaxed, conciliatory tone of voice could have helped calm tensions in the audience. Any disturbing event, such as the appearance of the prankster and the coughing, could have been managed more effectively in a

2 The speech has been extensively studied in the past decades. A useful summary of the speech is Wisse, J., ‘The Riddle of the Pro Milone: The Rhetoric of Rational Argument’, in J. G. F. Powell (ed.), Logos: Rational Argument in Classical Rhetoric (London, 2007) 35– 68. See also Cicero, Defence Speeches, translated by D. H. Berry (Oxford World Classics) (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008) 162–223.

38

G. TAHIN

more relaxed atmosphere with some well-placed humorous and sensibly self-deprecatory remarks. An obvious source of contingency during delivery is the person of the orator, most precisely their psychological and physical state. Delivering a long speech with an intricate argument and extensive details is mentally and emotionally demanding and requires a strong presence of mind. Once the orator is out on the stage, there is no turning back or restarting the performance. A parallel with professional mountain guides again helps to highlight the challenges. Once the guide and the client are on a committing route, the guide must have an excellent knowledge of their limitations and be mentally and physically fit to deal with any unexpected event as they move forward. In the same way, the speaker must know himself well enough to judge which personal qualities and skills need additional training to deal with challenging scenarios once they start their speech. These personal qualities could, for example, involve (to use the author as an example) weak memory, feeble voice, anxiety, slow reaction to sudden events and initial agitation. These weaknesses will not disappear on their own. So it is best to develop them into the orator’s style of delivery, for example, by acknowledgment or using them as a source of humour if circumstances allow. The audience’s composition and reactions (whether directly present or following a broadcast) provide an intricate set of contingencies for the orator. The standard advice is simple and banal: the orator needs to earn the trust and goodwill of the audience so that they become open to persuasion. In some cases, it is not a great challenge because the audience consists of interested people who are already sympathetic to the orator. The orator can easily avoid the pitfalls of turning the audience against himself or inciting feelings they did not intend. A good test of the orator’s ability is to speak in front of a distrustful, hostile or strange audience and make them receptive to what the orator says. The difficulty of achieving persuasion can be enormous if the audience is large and hostile before the speech has even started. Therefore, a key task of the orator during preparation is to make himself aware that the audience is a source of contingency and predict what could happen and how it can be managed. The obvious way to understand the possible array of contingent factors is to find out the composition of the audience as much as possible. Important information can be derived from their general age, their general level of education, political and religious

2

CONTINGENCY

39

views, cultural interests, their place of living and the history associated with their homeland. Sometimes, a diverse crowd with a balanced proportion of people from different backgrounds is much easier to address than one with a similar and relatively narrow profile with specific interests and expectations. A recent example of unexpected and damaging behaviour by the audience happened at a rally in Greenville, North Carolina, where the then US president, Donald Trump criticised a female democratic senator born outside the United States, evoking racially divisive language. During the speech, the audience started to chant, ‘Send her home, send her home…’. At that time, the president did not challenge the chanting, although he expressed his disagreement with them after the rally. In that case, prior to the speech, it would have been evident that he was speaking in front of a supportive crowd, who was also likely to react with hostility against political opponents whom the president might criticise. He, therefore, had a responsibility to choose his words carefully if he wanted to avoid a controversial moment. The lesson from this event and other similar ones (the most notorious of all, with far reaching, and lethal, consequences, is Donald Trump’s speech at a rally in Washington D.C. on the 6th of January in 2021, leading to the U.S. Capitol riot) is clear. It is easy to incite a crowd with inflammatory language, but the immediate and delayed consequences often move beyond the orator’s control. The general approach to managing contingencies associated with the audience is to consider (extreme) scenarios, such as loud or aggressive behaviour, and practise ways to deal with these. Rehearsing several ‘what if…?’ scenarios build up the orator’s confidence and the ability to react quickly to an unexpected and potentially damaging event. Finally, the place and time of delivery also provide a rich source of contingencies which affect speech-making. Rhetoric is primarily regarded as a performance using language and argument; therefore, the physical place of delivery rarely receives much attention. This oversight is a mistake with potentially serious consequences. The physical features of a place unconsciously influence both the speaker and the audience. The orator, aware of this influence, is more likely to manage and turn it to their advantage. There have always been places dedicated to rhetorical delivery. Some of these even obtained iconic status due to their historical importance. These include the Pnyx hill in Athens, where the popular assembly gathered during the Golden Age of the city, the Forum Romanum in Rome, the Houses of Parliament in London, the Capitolium in Washington

40

G. TAHIN

and the United Nations Headquarters in New York. Delivering a speech in these places (and in many others, such as major courts, churches, central squares or stadiums) imposes a set of stringent expectations on how the orator should perform. The unstated and unwritten expectations themselves are contingencies affecting the orator’s performance. The contingent nature of physical space in rhetoric is in part due to the fact that the orator often has no control over where the delivery takes place and whether the physical features of the place can change. It is also impossible for the orator to know every element of the physical space, which adds to the indeterminacy of delivery. As a hypothetical example, one might ask how an orator would adapt their delivery if an earthquake struck in the middle of delivery, causing significant tremors in the building where the speech takes place. The orator must realise that the place of delivery is a crucial element of persuasion. They should be able to adapt the speech and the performance to consider as many aspects of the place as possible. These aspects include the historical connections of the place (or the lack of them), location, size, shape, atmosphere, background, acoustics, colours, shades and lighting. While the speech does not have to make specific mention of these features, its language, arguments and the way it is delivered are all affected. A notable example of how the choice of place reinforces the message of the orator is the French President Emmanuel Macron’s speech in September 2017 on the Pnyx hill in Athens with the Acropolis in the background. Choosing the birthplace of Athenian democracy for a speech carried a fundamental significance. The thrust of the speech’s argument was to identify and strengthen common European values, such as freedom, sovereignty, democracy and shared culture. Although the speech does not make lengthy and elaborate references to the significance of the place, the unspoken, but commonly understood history contributed much to the strength of the president’s words. The time, or rather timing, of the delivery, similarly to the location, can be a source of uncertainty and a potentially decisive element in success or failure. Before discussing any issues, it is necessary to clarify a potentially confusing point. Time is one of the principles of heuristic rhetoric, together with contingency, probability and strategic arrangement. Time, discussed here as a contingent aspect of delivery, is understood in a more restricted sense, namely the chronological date and the part of the day when the speech is delivered. Only the question of how choosing the

2

CONTINGENCY

41

date and time of delivery could affect the persuasion is discussed here. All the other issues related to temporality will be treated in a separate chapter. There are a number of reasons why the time of delivery is crucial. While the delivery time might be fixed, the specific time when the delivery starts during an event is often dependent on multiple factors and can be volatile. Similar to the location, the specific time of the speech is not always controllable by the orator. As such, it adds a level of uncertainty to delivery. In most cases, an external authority allocates the time for delivery, which allows for a degree of certainty. What cannot be predicted is the mental and physical state of the orator at that specific time or the audience’s behaviour. As a rule, the orator should have an open and flexible view on when they start the speech and prepare for unspecified delays, which are often guaranteed when the event includes multiple speeches. Whatever the delivery date for the speech is, it always falls on a date in a calendar, which may differ in countries or cultures. Calendars do not simply mean a chronological sequence of days. Religious and secular calendars exist side by side. Even in secular cultures, the time of (religious) festivals or holidays impacts how the audience understands the orator’s speech. In ancient Greece and Rome, political or legal oratory was considered a public business and did not occur during major religious festivals. There are similar holidays in the modern world as well. However, it is not just religious events which can have an unacknowledged impact on speech. Calendars often commemorate recent or older historical events, in many cases, tragedies or catastrophes. An orator should always be aware of significant events around the time of speaking, understand their significance and be able to acknowledge them appropriately. Since many of these holidays are highly culturespecific, it often requires great skill to refer to these respectfully, especially as the same event might have a diametrically opposite interpretation in a neighbouring country (e.g. in a speech commemorating the partition of India in 1947). An orator speaking about the issues of the Palestinian people must have an awareness of the Nakba. At the same time, any speech on international terrorism should demonstrate a tacit understanding of the 2001 September 11 attacks. Although knowledge of cultural specific calendars is evident, even involuntary ignorance of significant days of remembrance of holiday can have disastrous consequences for persuading an audience. The calendar events I mentioned above are significant in a society or community for cultural, historical or religious reasons and may have a

42

G. TAHIN

clear and distinct influence on what the orator says in the speech. The time of the speech is also contingent upon other factors, such as a series of related events which directly precede the speech. Sometimes an event is not directly related to a speech, but the orator must acknowledge and make reasonable adjustments with regards to it due to their position or circumstances. In the earlier example of Emmanuel Macron’s speech in Athens, the president started with a brief commemoration of the disaster on the Islands of Saint Barthelemy and Saint Martin caused by a hurricane. Leaving out the reference to the catastrophic event may not have been noted by the immediate audience in Athens. However, many people in France would have regarded it as a severe error of judgement and lack of empathy. A particular event often triggers a speech, and the timing of delivery in relation to that event may be hugely significant. Let us imagine that riots break out in a city, causing chaos and damage. The country’s head of government and members of the international community react once the riots ended. The choice of timing is crucial. Talking too early might be ineffective or worse, appear aggressive and reignite the riots. A reaction that comes late, say several days after the incident, might suggest insensitivity, weakness in reflecting on the causes of the events or unwillingness to deal with problems. Good timing, in this case, avoids hasty aggressive reaction and allows for just the right amount of time for the emotions to settle down to the point when participants in the riot can reflect on what happened and are willing to engage in a dialogue. It might still happen that the orator in our imaginary case is forced to talk at a time that might either be too early or too late in his judgement. Bad timing can be corrected by awareness of the problem and then by explaining why it was necessary to speak at the time. Events that lead up to the delivery of the speech also have a specific dynamic and logic that the orator should be aware of. Sometimes events show a pattern of escalation towards a crisis. They might also indicate deescalation, as in the case of the imaginary riots, or a fluctuating pattern. Events may lose their importance over time, become insignificant or the audience may have no more interest in them. In a lengthy criminal trial with many testimonies heard over weeks and months, the case for the defence or the prosecution runs the risk of losing its momentum. When the orator assesses the time of delivery from the point of view of persuasion, they should consider how the logic and rhythm of events develop to the point where arguments are most likely to persuade the audience.

2

CONTINGENCY

43

A judicious example of choosing a good time for a speech is Queen Elizabeth II’s famous ‘Annus Horribilis’ address on 24 November 1992. The occasion for the speech was not particularly notable, lunch at the City of London to celebrate the fortieth anniversary of her reign. What made this relatively unimportant date a most notable one was a series of adverse developments for the royal family and a disaster. The Queen experienced a resurgence of hostility towards her, her family and the institution of the monarchy during that year. The marriages of three of her children broke down, and, finally, Windsor Castle, one of her residences, caught fire and burnt down four days before the event. The speech allowed the Queen to give a public yet personal address to reflect on the disastrous events from her point of view. While the speech does not make detailed reference to the events of 1992, it cleverly uses the opportunity of the anniversary to project a human and fragile image of herself and thereby create sympathy for her family and office. Assessing the time of delivery usually assumes that the orator only deals with past events that provide the raison d’être for the speech. However, a contingent view of events entails that the speech has several possible consequences for the future, which are equally, if not more significant than what happens now or happened in the past. In preparing for the speech, the orator should consider these consequences and tailor the arguments to make favourable outcomes most likely. The orator should ask what can be achieved, how and what else can happen. Whether or not the future consequences of a particular speech are certain, there are several reasons why the orator should consider them. One of the most difficult tasks for any orator is to argue in a case that they know that they will almost certainly lose. For example, the defendant’s guilt has been proven overwhelmingly or because a certain proposal is so unpopular that state legislators will never pass it. The inverse case is also conceivable. A case enjoys so much favour that the audience requires little persuasion to accept it. Though it may seem that a favourable outcome is guaranteed, the orator should still be aware of any problems which have the potential to derail the argument. One reason why the consequences of the speech matter are ethical. The twentieth century provided numerous examples of what disasters can follow from speeches inspired by hatred and aggression. While rhetoric as a subject is neither moral nor immoral, the orator’s choices and the consequences of a speech can be judged by moral standards. The orator assumes a position of responsibility, regardless of whether one is aware

44

G. TAHIN

of it or not. The orator must therefore have high standards of morality. Although painfully obvious, it cannot be reiterated enough that oratory can contribute to the good in human societies. However, speeches can also lead to evil acts or justify such actions. The reader should only recall speeches made by leaders such as Stalin, Hitler or Pol Pot, which indirectly contributed to or justified the deaths of millions. While oratory cannot physically stop atrocities, it has some power to prevent, delay or bring them to an end. When the orator assesses the likelihood of different outcomes of a speech, they can apply the same method as in the case of contingencies regarding delivery. The main idea is relatively simple. Events related to a case never stop at a speech but develop further in a way which cannot be entirely predicted, similarly to weather events. Also, like in the case of specific natural processes, there is often no clear causal relationship between a single speech and its outcome, so every consideration about outcomes remains tentative, however likely a conclusion may appear. It is not uncommon that speeches that do not come across as persuasive may ultimately gather more support due to the credibility of the speaker or the evidence. Certain outcomes are singularly crucial in assessing the contingencies, for example, if immediate decisions are to be made after a speech. In that case, the orator is to weigh the likelihood of favourable and unfavourable outcomes and then focus all the argument on that specific objective without giving much weight to further consequences. Sometimes, however, it is impossible to identify one immediate outcome, for example, in a lengthy inquiry or series of speeches in a parliament session, a demonstration or an extended trial. In these cases, strategic thinking looks beyond the immediate aftermath of the speech. It assesses how one speech can function within a series, and when subsequent arguments may strengthen or weaken the conclusion, such as a verdict. On certain occasions, it is not even conceivable to talk about a definite outcome, as in the case of commemorative speeches. Whatever the intended outcome is, the orator must develop a high degree of realism about what is and what is not possible and assess the outcomes with a clear mind. A cautiously hopeful but realistic outlook is more likely to produce an outcome beyond expectations rather than a vague sense of idealistic optimism.

2

4

CONTINGENCY

45

Contingencies Created by the Orator

So far, I have treated contingency as an element of persuasion which is outside the orator’s control. There is however a different way to look at persuasion from the viewpoint of contingency. The speech as a whole and its parts can be treated as possible instances of contingency, controlled or managed by the orator in order to create a sense of surprise within members of the audience. A surprise can be a positive or negative feeling of amazement or startlement in reaction to an unexpected event. In rhetoric, it is rather complicated to explain what is surprising in persuasive arguments and how the orator can use force of surprise for their own benefit. The problem lies in with the fact that a surprise is generally understood as a sudden instant of amazement or shock, the consequences of which may be beyond the orator’s control. The orator does not simply create an element of surprise for a moment. The feeling of startlement must have a lasting effect in the way the orator intended. Critics of rhetoric might say that the basis of persuasion is to say repeatedly what the audience wants to hear in order to win their approval. According to this criticism, the successful orator plays on the common beliefs and opinions of people. In this sense, the speech should always focus on what is already known to the audience and avoid creating surprises as these may cause negative feelings or cognitive dissonance. The criticism sounds justified, as large parts of modern rhetorical performances are based on the repetition of slogans and phrases, without much substantive argument. Repetitive arguments and the constant use of clichés and platitudes may be rhetoric, but it is a bad form of art and requires little learning. Artful persuasion always creates a sense of amazement with the language or arrangement of the arguments, the evidence or the person of the orator. The sense of surprise does not need to be strong or noticeable. It is better to create a feeling of puzzlement which is barely noticeable for the outside observer and not at all for members of the audience. The question is then how it is possible to achieve the appropriate sense of perplexity in a speech. Unexpected or surprising turns of phrases, sentences and sections of a speech are known in rhetoric under various names, for example, as a paradox or paraprosdokian. These figures of speech work on the basis that people have certain beliefs or expectations about what they might hear in a speech. To reverse this expectation suddenly has a strong, often comic, force. It is therefore commonly used by entertainers or comedians.

46

G. TAHIN

The problem with a paradox or paraprosdokian is that they create an instant sensation, which works well briefly, but not for the long term. It is also easier to use these figures of speech for comic effect, where the consequences of surprise are more predictable and less serious. Possibly due to the influence of modern entertainment media, there is a tendency in oratory to constantly surprise the audience by bombastic language or supposedly shocking revelation of facts. The danger in this practice is that the effect of surprise soon wears off and the audience becomes immune, and at the same time addicted to, the effects of surprise. Two well-known examples of this technique are former US president Donald Trump and the head of the Philippines, Rodrigo Duterte. The type of surprise heuristic rhetoric is most concerned with is not the instantaneous use of paradox or paraprosdokian for dramatic effect, but a more sophisticated form of ‘displacing’ the audience’s views and expectations. Attempting to shift the views and expectations of the audience in a case which is not comedy or entertainment, especially where the orator is likely to argue against the audience’s views, is far more difficult. The first step to achieve this is to understand what exactly is meant by expectations which an audience might hold when they face an orator. Audience expectations may cover a variety of circumstances in a rhetorical situation. Some of the expectations might be explicit, for example, views about the case or the orator, while others are not stated, for example, expectations about the environment (the orator in front of the audience) or the themes and language of persuasion. Historically, rhetoric has been regarded as a form of speaking persuasively with a traditional set of parameters. A classically trained orator was expected to speak in an institutionalised environment, a court or political assembly, for example, use an elaborate and sophisticated language and include most of the traditional elements and divisions of speech. These expectations still exist, sometimes in different forms and in many cases, they are very strict. However, modern societies in a global environment often do not conform to classical norms, although in many cases, these norms are reinterpreted according to local characteristics. In a sense, a global environment allows a greater freedom about what the orator can say and how he can act, but it also compounds the pressures to conform to a large number of potentially contradictory norms. We may take an example of a presentation, in which a CEO or director of a global tech company introduces a new product, a smartphone. The environment, the language and the appearance of the speaker might

2

CONTINGENCY

47

appear simple, slick, clean and casual, yet few people would think that the person on the stage has left much for improvisation. The person who speaks on the stage faces immense scrutiny and below the surface of a casual performance there are strict unstated rules and opinions which the orator must satisfy. In a similar way, a North Korean politician at an annual Communist party conference must faithfully keep to the formulas of language expected of him by the party or risk very severe repercussions. The point I want to emphasise is that a speech or any rhetorical performance imposes what may be called ‘situational’ and ‘institutional’ expectations on the orator, such as patterns of rhetorical argument and unwritten rules of behaviour. To these are added the expectations of the immediate or distant media audience, which may include political and ethical values, styles of language, reputation, credibility, visual appearance and vocal abilities. Added together, situational, institutional and audiencerelated expectations impose strict limitations on nearly every aspect of the orator’s performance. The question is how, if at all, it is possible to manoeuvre around these expectations for the orator’s benefit. I will now give a simple and innocuous example of how expectations can be turned around in an unexpected way. Some time ago I gave a speech in a whole-school assembly. The main theme of the talk was how love is portrayed in a popular reality TV show in the United Kingdom, called Love Island. In the show, twelve young men and women live together in a villa, trying to form relationships with each other and at the same time trying to avoid being eliminated. The show was widely popular in the United Kingdom, especially among children and teenagers. It was praised for the realistic depiction of difficulties in forming and maintaining relationships for young people. The point I was making was simple. The television show creates a closed artificial world in which attractive men and women are under pressure to form a relationship in front of millions of viewers or risk being eliminated from the contest. While the show can be credited for showing the challenging side of finding a partner, the whole scenario is designed for entertainment, so it would be somewhat unreasonable to expect a wholly realistic picture of finding love. The school assembly normally took place in a large neogothic church next to the school. The audience included all the children from the age of 11 to 18, as well as school staff. Speeches in school assemblies have strict restrictions on appropriate language and theme, which must be suitable for education. The rhetorical situation thus immediately imposes a set of rules and expectations to which every speaker must conform. At the

48

G. TAHIN

beginning of the speech, I spoke as a naïve unsuspecting observer of Love Island. I explained that I wanted to take part in the contest to escape from work and form friendships. The problem was that both my age and family status excluded me. The absurdity of the proposal was also obvious due to the inconsistency between my age, look, personality and interests, and those who take part in the contest. Only towards the end of the speech did I hint at the fact that the whole idea of my application is not true. Still, many pupils believed that I was seriously interested in the programme and actually planned to apply. The speech had a good reception. The fictional scenario of a teacher revealing his absurd plans to join a reality show in front of the school brought out the contrast between what is considered normal in everyday life and a reality television programme. I said earlier that the first step to shift expectations within a rhetorical situation is to understand as clearly as possible what they are. Once the orator has a clear view of the limitations imposed on him by the rhetorical situation and the audience, the next step is to know which of these can be shifted or turned around. Naturally, there are no exact criteria as to whether a certain view or set of opinions can be challenged or not. At the beginning of this section, I suggested that heuristic rhetoric treats expectations or limitations to the orator’s performance as contingent opportunities. This means that the orator regards expectations, not as restrictions on what can be said and how. Rather, from the viewpoint of rhetoric they are indicators or descriptors of what people and the rhetorical environment views as the normal ways of functioning in a society. While it seems common sense, it is worth emphasising that the orator must respect the framework of values and institutions in which they are given the opportunity to speak. At the same time, they should be aware that in a speech any opinion, value and social norm can be challenged, shifted or turned around with prudence and skill. For example, in liberal Western societies certain values and principles, such as the value and dignity of human life and property rights command universal respect. On the other hand, certain issues, such as women’s right to abortion, euthanasia, the death sentence, gun ownership or political affiliations, are controversial and positions seemingly immoveable. The orator who must confront these issues might therefore decide that it is not reasonable to challenge either side, as expectations are too rigid to allow a meaningful discussion in the allocated time. In this case, they could either decide to treat any sensitive topic as a matter of free personal choice while

2

CONTINGENCY

49

withholding any personal view, mark their position at the same time as indicating that the matter is under dispute and unlikely to be resolved, or ignore delicate points entirely to avoid stirring up emotions. Taking the heuristic approach in a controversial debate means viewing any position as possessing variable degrees of strength and stability relative to a situation. Reading the context of the debate and the immediate rhetorical circumstances carefully should guide the orator as to what the best course of argument might be. As a general rule of thumb, taking a sharply contrarian position, though it may seem a powerful way of creating a contingent rhetorical scenario, should only be undertaken with a very good reason and substantial experience, as it could seriously backfire and damage the orator’s reputation. The orator must be able to reflect on specific views in the context of the case and judge to what extent it can be challenged. At a basic level, the professional orator should be able to discuss any issue in a non-partisan language and in a spirit of goodwill and open-mindedness, which in many instances is a serious challenge. A more robust shift in the position of the audience can be achieved only if the speaker has a substantial knowledge of the philosophical, social, political and economic arguments underlining the issues and has the necessary tools of argument to handle controversies deftly. To achieve a meaningful discussion and shift a position in divisive issues, the orator should be able to move beyond the antagonistic language of a confrontative debate and avoid being forced to take one side or its opposite. The way to achieve this is to show a level acceptance of the audience’s views. Acceptance in this case does not mean blind, unthinking support for any value. In controversial issues, acceptance is understood as a genuine gesture of goodwill and shows respect for people who hold an entirely different position from the one the orator advocates. It is easier to realise the possibility of respect and manoeuvring around values we do not accept if we understand that strongly held values or positions do not stand on their own, but are supported by an architecture of other values, some of which are shared by opposing sides. In a strongly divisive issue even a basic acknowledgment of the possibility of justified reasons by the opponents could bring an element of surprise, a move that might help shift the views within the debate. In the classic case of abortion, this means that the orator will acknowledge the existence of reasons and rational argument on both sides, even if they believe that the opposite side is motivated by rigid adherence to a set of dogmatic ideas. In this case, the orator could explicitly acknowledge the value of individual

50

G. TAHIN

human life, human rights as well as the role of religious convictions, as a common ground which they share with the audience. Often, the arguments in controversial issues are advanced on a narrow theoretical, legal or ethical path. To move between contrarian positions, it is a useful technique to leave in the background theoretical controversies and instead focus on specific cases and persons. With this approach, there is also a danger of moving from one narrow area of a debate to another, so it again requires care to balance the theoretical side of the issue with a specific instance. Controversial issues are also accompanied by strong attachment and emotions, all of which can be sources of a contingent opportunity for the orator. In a case where previous arguments were accompanied by anger, the orator can surprise the audience simply by speaking calmly, without a hint of arrogance or indifference. An honest declaration of the orator’s views combined with the ability to listen to the opposite side in a controversy where positions always appeared irreconcilable could in a particular instant be an effective means of changing the audience’s perception. When the orator attempts to manoeuvre around the views and expectations of the audience, they must develop a judicious sense of reality, the ability to recognise what can and cannot be accomplished in a particular debate and focus their attempts on what is achievable. In seriously divisive issues, it is almost always pointless to attempt to convince the other side. However, there may be many other objectives which are within the reach of the orator. To use a mountaineering example, if someone is not able to climb to the summit of K2 as a result of unfavourable weather or snow conditions, there are still multiple opportunities to approach the mountain and attain success, for example, by trekking to the K2 base and advanced base camps or climbing to Camp1. In the context of resolving a violent conflict, the orator will have to take a strategic view, in which a gradual approach towards the views of the opposite side is the most reasonable. As I have come to an end of discussing contingencies, I summarise some of the insights of the chapter. Overall, the idea of contingency requires the orator to obtain a clear and comprehensive picture of the case, understand the variables and take a dynamic view of how different aspects of the case might develop. The chapter showed that the information the orator collects through the course of preparation and delivery is never fixed. In fact, apart from hard factual evidence, every element of the case is liable to change. Understanding and applying in practice the

2

CONTINGENCY

51

principle of contingency allows to orator to move from a static approach to persuasion (i.e. learning the facts, writing down the speech, then delivering it almost word by word) to developing the skill and confidence to consider alternative strategies, then apply or change them as the case progresses. Lyndon B. Johnson’s address to the American nation on 31 March 1968 demonstrates how the heuristic principle of contingency can be applied to the greatest effect. The speech is a prime example of how a meticulously prepared speech can change at the very last moment during delivery, and the change creates a significant moment in history. Originally, the president was delivering a speech about US policy in the Vietnam War. The speech was prepared by a number of White House aides who were not aware that the president wanted to make any significant change to the text. When he was already halfway through the speech, Johnson decided to include a peroration which he prepared privately. His statement about not seeking a nomination to the presidency shocked everyone, including those who drafted the text.

CHAPTER 3

Probability

The second main principle of heuristic rhetoric is probability. Probability has different meanings and interpretations in mathematics, philosophy, rhetoric and argumentation theory. Complex interpretations of probability are not central to the book’s central theme. This chapter focusses on how probability is understood within the heuristic approach and how the concept helps construct a persuasive argument. First, I should note that the notion of probability in heuristic rhetoric is not derived from or directly related to its mathematical counterpart, which is an objective measure and quantifies the likelihood of whether an event will occur. The rhetorical use of probability is less exact and more flexible. The basic idea of probability in rhetoric is relatively simple and pragmatic. The orator’s argument must appear as likely or plausible as possible (or at least to a greater degree than those presented by the opponent) to win the audience’s approval. Rhetorical probability is important as the standard by which every element of persuasion is measured. A meticulously prepared, perfectly balanced and elaborately delivered speech might easily prove to be a failure for the audience if it does not appear probable and plausible. Those who lament or attack (with or without justification) the success of politicians, they regard as demagogues often fail to understand the force of rhetorical probability. Classical and modern theories acknowledge

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_3

53

54

G. TAHIN

that probability is essential for persuasion, but there is no general agreement about its interpretation and its exact function in practical reasoning. Heuristic rhetoric assigns a central role to the idea of likelihood because it is the most effective and encompassing criteria to guide the composition and arrangement of the argument and the delivery of the speech. The concept of probability in heuristic rhetoric is different from other approaches in a semantic and functional sense. Semantically, the notion of probability is broader than standard interpretations in that it unifies different senses of the term applied to three areas of persuasion, the argument, the speech as a whole and the orator. Functionally, probability is a standard of measurement applicable to every aspect of persuasion, which the orator should use as a test at every step of preparation and delivery. The novelty of the heuristic approach comes from the semantic and functional extension of probability. It is elevated to the level of an overarching rhetorical principle, governing individual parts of the speech, the language and style of the speech as a whole entity and the credibility of the orator as perceived by the audience. I will first offer a survey of probability in classical rhetoric, then expand the concept to cover every significant aspect of the persuasive process. The first part of the chapter will be heavily dominated by classical terminology. The critical reader might object here that a standard account of probability relies too heavily on classical models which makes the heuristic approach just a slightly modernised and revamped version of the idea we find in Greek and Roman authors. The answer to this, as often, is that the objection is justified in a restricted sense, but not universally. Classical rhetoric and oratory developed fine distinctions of probability, applicable to various aspects of the speech, which modern rhetoricians have by and large adopted. However, there has never been an attempt to see these distinct interpretations as related, all serving the same purpose. Heuristic rhetoric is an attempt, as it were, to ‘connect the dots’ and treat probability in all its varieties as a unified concept. A novel approach in rhetoric does not necessarily mean the introduction of an entirely new nomenclature. The heuristic approach incorporates certain classical interpretations of probability, because they are illuminating and, with adaption, still highly useable today.

3

1

PROBABILITY

55

The Probability of Argument, Narrative and Evidence

The concept of probability was already known in classical rhetoric as eikos , pithanon, veri simile and probabile, each representing a different aspect of the idea. Eikos as an adjective is normally translated as ‘like the truth’, ‘likely’, ‘probable’ or ‘reasonable’. The word pithanon is derived from the verb peitho, ‘I persuade’, and it means ‘having the power of persuasion’, ‘persuasive’ or ‘plausible’. The Latin terms mirror the sense of the Greek words, especially veri simile, which means ‘like the truth’. The meaning of probabile is the most extended. It is variously translated as ‘that which may be believed or proved’, ‘likely’, ‘credible’, ‘probable’, but also ‘worthy of approval’, ‘pleasing’, ‘agreeable’ or ‘acceptable’.1 The purpose of this brief linguistic excursus is to show that in classical rhetoric, the concept of probability is not necessarily restricted to a narrow sense of the likelihood of the available evidence. Orators used the term as a measure of truth, reasonableness, persuasiveness and credibility applied to evidence, argument, language and persons. I will be using the terms probability, plausibility and credibility as almost interchangeable, while aware that the three notions are interpreted differently in specific contexts, especially in scientific terminology. The main reason for conflating the meaning of these terms as similar is to indicate that from a heuristic point of view, every aspect of reasoning, while variable, is ultimately directed at persuading the audience. When the orator prepares a speech, they will not generally be working with abstract notions of truth and view their argument in terms of the degree to which it achieved the closest approximation to ‘the things as they are’. Instead, they will ask how evidence, argument, speech and rhetorical persona stack up against the opponent’s case and most likely persuade the audience. To use a crude example, when the orator faces the task of, let us say, convincing parties in an armed conflict to accept the terms of an immediate ceasefire, academic distinctions between plausibility and probability will matter less than the success of negotiations and persuasion. A unified notion of probability is essential for another reason, too. All the aspects of probability I

1 For an extended discussion of the meaning of eikos and its varieties, see J. Glucker, ‘Probabile, Veri Simile and Related Terms’, in J. G. F. Powell (ed.), Cicero the Philosopher (Oxford, 1995) 115–143. Hoffman, D. C., ‘Concerning Eikos: Social Expectation and Verisimilitude in Early Attic Rhetoric’ Rhetorica 26 (2008) 1–27.

56

G. TAHIN

mentioned earlier are subject to change and, therefore, contingent. The ability to dynamically see and control all variable elements of likelihood and plausibility in a rhetorical situation is a fundamental skill of advanced persuasion. I will now offer some classical and modern examples of the concept of probability applied to individual aspects of the speech, paying particular attention to the variability of arguments from probability in practice. In early Greek rhetoric, one may find highly elaborate eikos-type arguments in cases where inconclusive factual evidence offers room for strategic moves of argumentation. One of the earliest known examples of arguments from probability is the Homeric Hymn to Hermes. The text highlights some of the functions probability might have within an argument.2 The hymn tells how the god Hermes stole Apollo’s cattle on the first day of his birth and then defended his innocence against Apollo’s accusations in front of Zeus. Apollo spoke first and explained what happened with his cows, bringing a witness to prove his version. Hermes denied the charge. The young god defended himself on the ground that he was born on the same day, and so being a baby as he was physically not capable of stealing cattle. Omniscient Zeus, of course, knew it was all a lie and, after a good laugh, ordered Hermes to return the animals to their owner. The argument is notable even in its flaws. Hermes appeals to common-sense views that one can only do what is in their power. Newborn babies are neither physically nor morally capable of carrying out criminal acts. The absurdity (and humour) of the argument derives from deliberately ignoring the apparent fact that Hermes is a god with divine abilities, as his actions on the first day, such as the creation of a lyre, prove. While straightforward, the argument shows basic features of probability. An essential element of the idea is that likelihood is always relational; it cannot function independently. An argument from probability rests on other facts (contradictory or affirmative) or probabilities. In its most basic form, rhetorical probability works on the basis of common sense and opinion about how things are in general. The baby Hermes appealed to his tender age precisely because of the general opinion about the 2 Two excellent editions are The Homeric Hymns: A Translation, with Introduction and Notes by Rayor, Diane (Berkeley: California University Press, 2004); The Homeric Hymns, translated by Apostolos N. Athanassakis (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2020).

3

PROBABILITY

57

newborn. His ‘mistake’ was to ignore the fact that he was also a god to whom human categories do not apply. There is a more subtle error in Hermes’s argument. The fact that he could argue his case based on probabilities using standard courtroom formulas, such as an oath to the gods, suggests that he possessed a high degree of intelligence, broad knowledge and a cunning mind. A similar but slightly more realistic example of arguments from probability is found both in Plato (Phaedrus 273 b–c) and in Aristotle (Rhet. 2.24, 1402 a 17–20). In that case, a large, strong, but cowardly man accuses a weak but brave one of assaulting him. In his defence, the small man appeals to the standard view that a person’s physical strength is decisive in a factual dispute over whether someone assaults a person. Plato adds an interesting, though somewhat tendentious, remark to the example. In this case, both parties are likely to use deceit. To weaken the force of the defendant’s argument, the prosecutor has to claim that he was assaulted by a group of people, perhaps incited by the weak but brave man. The case cannot be decided on the basis of these two arguments and both parties have to present further evidence and argument to win their case. The example is hypothetical, and it was probably devised by Corax, the legendary founder of rhetoric in Greece, as a school exercise. Although it would in its present form be rejected as simplistic in a real case, it shows well the strength and the limitation of arguments from probability in cases where neither side can rely on hard facts to win the jury’s favour. The two previous arguments provide a good starting point for demonstrating the concept of probability. More elaborate examples of arguments from probability are found in the model speeches of Antiphon, for example, in his First Tetralogy. These model speeches represent an imaginary case of a man accused of murdering his enemy late at night in the street.3 I will consider only the first two speeches of the Tetralogy, the initial exchange between the accuser and the defendant. The prosecutor begins with a general statement, which will serve as a framework for all his subsequent arguments. He says that intelligent and experienced criminals take great precautions before committing a crime. Therefore, it is difficult to prove their crime purely on the basis of facts.

3 Antiphon and Andocides, translated by Michael Gagarin and Douglas M. MacDowell, The Oratory of Classical Greece, Volume 1 (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1998).

58

G. TAHIN

He then lists several negative probabilities about why only the defendant could have been the murderer. In this way, robbery, drunken brawl or accidental murder are all eliminated as possible causes. The argument then turns to probabilities which prove why the defendant is likely to have committed the crime. As a reason, he cites longstanding animosity and a recent trial for stealing sacred property. To maximise the argument’s impact, he strategically leaves the crucial piece of evidence until the end of the speech. According to the prosecutor, the attendant of the murdered man survived the attack long enough to identify the accused man. The defendant turns the prosecution’s initial statement back on itself in reply. He argues that an intelligent person, aware that suspicion would fall on him if he had committed the murder, would have made every possible effort to stop others intending to kill his enemy, let alone commit it himself. He then moves on to refute the probabilistic arguments of the prosecutors. His method is interesting in that he does not go through all the possible scenarios of the murder, which the prosecutor considered unlikely. Instead, he focuses only on violent robbery, arguing why it was a genuine possibility. Notably, he ignores the likelihood of a drunken brawl or accidental murder. He counters the witness testimony by saying that the prosecutors could have made a mistake or otherwise coerced him. Since the attendant was a slave, the defendant also appealed to the fact that in classical Athens, slave testimony was regarded as unreliable unless under torture. Finally, he turns to arguments based on the fact that the murdered man accused him of stealing sacred property, which would have incurred a considerable fine and the possibility of losing all his property. His defence, in this case, is weighing up the two punishments and concluding that the less severe consequences of condemnation in the case of the original trial for theft would have never made him contemplate a murder. The modern reader would probably regard the argument as vacuous. There are nevertheless important points for learning in the two short speeches. The opponents on both sides demonstrate strategic thinking in their arguments. The prosecutor is likely to rely on probabilities because he has no conclusive evidence to prove the defendant’s guilt, as the slave’s testimony is inadmissible in court. His strategy is rather conservative and gives an impression of a careful and objective investigator. He starts with a general probabilistic argument to discredit the defendant’s claims in advance on account of his apparent intelligence and deviousness. He then considers and eliminates the probable causes of the murder one by one in

3

PROBABILITY

59

anticipation of the accused man’s defence. Once he eliminates all possible scenarios, he focuses on specific reasons why the defendant must have committed the murder. In the final part of the speech, he subtly avoids referring to probabilities and presents his argument as if it were based on facts, while in reality, they cannot be treated as such. The defendant’s argumentative strategy is more creative than that of the prosecutor. While he does not have sufficient factual evidence to prove his innocence, he is aware that the burden of proof falls on the prosecutor. It is thus enough for him to identify the weak points in his opponent’s probabilistic argument and counter these with equally plausible explanations. He does not produce any new and relevant factual information, probably to avoid giving an unnecessary angle of attack for the prosecution. First, he neutralises the prosecution’s general probabilistic claim at the beginning of their speech, assuming that he was a clever and devious criminal knowing how to avoid detection. He points out that if the general claim were true, the accusation would be inconsistent. It is impossible for an intelligent criminal to attempt the murder of his enemy and risk detection when he knows very well that suspicion would fall on him first. With this argument, he did not just neutralise the prosecutor’s initial statement but established the general proposition that the prosecutor’s whole probabilistic argument rests on inconsistencies. In the remaining part of the speech, he selectively refutes the prosecution’s arguments, focusing on the possibility of robbery. Despite being selective, this counter-attack strategy still gives the impression of a comprehensive rebuttal of the charges. At the end of the speech, the defendant rounds up the argument with a well-crafted comparison of probable outcomes of the murdered man’s trial against him and the present trial. He effectively returns to the points he made at the beginning of his speech and reiterates the claim that he had no reason to murder his enemy. Since the prosecutor did not have conclusive evidence to prove the defendant’s guilt, the defendant’s strategy of contrasting the prosecutor’s probabilistic arguments with similar propositions could use up the time available for the trial and exhausts the case of the opponent. In the case of Hermes’ theft and defence, we learnt that probabilities that appeal to general opinion and common sense can be used effectively for arguing. However, it is also clear that individual arguments from probability are never in themselves strong enough to be conclusive proof. In Antiphon’s First Tetralogy, we can see that the orator presents a series of mutually supportive arguments based on probability to supply factual

60

G. TAHIN

proof. This technique is called cumulative probability. It is an effective tool for argumentation, especially if factual evidence is incomplete or doubtful. Antiphon’s First Tetralogy also shows that accumulating probabilistic arguments must be done with care. The probabilities have to be relevant and connected to the factual evidence. It improves the effectiveness of the arguments if they are arranged strategically to address the weaknesses of inconclusive or circumstantial evidence. The arrangement can be selective and still create an impression of solid proof. At the same time, it has become clear that probabilistic arguments have a significant weakness. Any probabilistic claim that appeals to common opinion or experience can be countered with similar probabilities and may lose its persuasive strength. Early Greek orators were fond of probabilistic argument schemes. Later rhetorical handbooks also discussed them in insightful ways, suggesting that argument patterns should possess a degree of elasticity to adapt to changes in the rhetorical situation. One of the earliest technical discussions of arguments based on eikos, probability, is found in the anonymous Rhetorica ad Alexandrum. The writer claims that eikosarguments are supported by examples in the audience’s mind, warning that the orator should be aware of the general views of his audience and choose his arguments carefully to match these. While the advice may appear vague and, to a degree, simplistic, it points to an essential feature of rhetorical probability. An orator succeeds if he imitates the audience’s thinking as closely as possible. The ability to relate individual propositions of the argument and the audience’s views is also the most effective way to establish trust for the orator. As the previous examples prove, the ideas of probability, plausibility and persuasiveness are central to classical rhetoric. Aristotle uses the term pithanon, ‘persuasive’ or ‘plausible’ when he defines rhetoric (Rhet. 1.2, 1355b) as the ability to consider the possible means of persuasion in each matter. In his translation of Aristotle’s Rhetoric, Kennedy adds some useful remarks about the definition, which highlights not just the purpose of rhetoric in general but also the central role of persuasiveness. The words ‘about each matter’ or ‘in each case’ underlines a crucial fact. Rhetoric always looks at a specific issue in all its complex settings. There is always a tension between the rules of rhetoric and their application in an individual case. The tension highlights that the knowledge of rhetoric is always conditional on persuasiveness.

3

PROBABILITY

61

According to Aristotle, the object of inquiry in each case is to endekhomenon pithanon, sometimes translated as ‘the available means of persuasion’. The adjective endekhomenon makes the phrase particularly interesting for heuristic thinking. Endekhomenon can also be translated as ‘potential’, ‘possible’ or ‘inherent’. To say that rhetoric (or, more precisely, the orator) is looking for what is possibly or potentially persuasive indicates that persuasiveness is not simply ‘there’ in the case. It depends on the skills, experience or judgement of the orator to decide what he uses as material for persuasion. Factual evidence, circumstantial evidence, the character of the people on all sides of the case, or the audience’s views can all be made persuasive in reasoning. The task of heuristic rhetoric, similarly to any other approach, is to develop the thinking and skills to find what can be made persuasive within an argument as comprehensively as possible. Identifying rhetoric as a dynamis is also crucial from the viewpoint of heuristic rhetoric. The basic meaning of the Greek word is ‘power’, but it can also be translated as ‘ability’, ‘faculty’, ‘craft’ or ‘art’. The word dynamis again underlines the practical nature and purpose of rhetorical learning. The ‘power’ or ‘ability’ to argue persuasively does not just ‘happen’, for example, as a result of taking a course or reading a book devoted to the subject (although these readings are also essential). Rhetoric, in that sense, is an experimental ‘art’ and ‘craft’ which develops abilities and skills to persuade others with what is plausible and persuasive in a practical issue. As a ‘craft’, rhetoric should be able to perform in any situation, wherever that may be, the UN General Assembly or on the streets of Kabul. There is one element of Aristotle’s definition with which I would like to take issue. The philosopher uses the word ‘theoresai’, ‘to observe’ or ‘consider’ what is persuasive, to describe the task of the orator. His definition is incomplete because the student of rhetoric cannot simply stop at ‘observation’ in practical matters. The orator fulfils their task not just if they can find what is persuasive in a case. They must also be able to present the case to the audience. The argument only becomes persuasive if it convinces the audience. The discussion of Aristotle’s definition of rhetoric showed key elements of rhetorical art and training. Later Roman writers of rhetoric, such as Cicero, the author of the anonymous Rhetorica ad Herennium and Quintilian, devised neat categories of arguments from probability. These reflect a practical approach different from Aristotle and consider the student’s

62

G. TAHIN

needs in a school of rhetoric. While categories are an effective tool for teaching, they often present the danger of constraining the student’s ability to find persuasive material from the widest possible sources. Classical systems discussed two main types of argument from probability as part of factual proofs: probabile e causa and probabile e vita. Both were part of the so-called loci, the places, or general forms, of argument in their most developed forms. The first type, ‘argument from cause’, is based on natural or psychological causes explaining why something happened the way it did or why someone carried out an act. Natural causes of action would be used mainly in cases where it was more beneficial to shift responsibility for an action onto a vis maior event, such as a natural catastrophe, outside of human control. These would be acceptable in modern arguments, for example, in cases of injury as a result of slipping in rain. The rhetorical appeal to natural causes in arguments from probability can be problematic. In most cases where a natural cause contributed to an event, the question remains to what extent a person could be aware of the natural event and whether any preventative measures were in place to avoid it. Psychological motive as a probable cause is accepted today in many forms of reasoning, especially in criminal courts. The anonymous writer of the Rhetorica ad Alexandrum identifies the main psychological motive for human actions as profit. Other handbooks that are less restrictive (or, perhaps, less cynical) suggest other feelings or dispositions, such as hope, anger, desire, audacity or fear. While human motivation is present in most forms of action, it should be used with great caution. One particular action might be attributed to several motives, whether stated or not. In such a case, it is not easy to judge the degree or proportion of a single motive by which it contributed to the final action. From the audience’s point of view, likely motives, however, misjudged, are appealing as they simplify understanding a ‘messy’ situation. (While this claim might sound crass, the student of oratory should remind themelf that the point of an argument is not to give an existential analysis of someone’s character to explain why a person acted in a way they did). The other type of probability, called e vita, is drawn from a person’s life or past actions. It was notoriously popular in classical oratory, where it was frequently used as a means of defamation in lurid tabloid style. In modern oratory, a general appeal to someone’s life is not widely accepted. However, there are examples of its justified use and misuse, for example, in appeals to mercy based on personal circumstances. A form of probable

3

PROBABILITY

63

reasoning based on human personality was, and still is, used as material for arguments from probability and character evidence. Circumstantial information of this kind had many forms, particularly how someone’s character became apparent in action or what reputation someone developed over time. While arguments from probability based on the character can be challenged on many grounds, they are still popular today. One reason for this popularity is the general assumption that people possess a stable disposition and character, which indicates whether someone could act in a certain way. These two types of argument from probability were not the only ones in practice, but they remain the most popular. In terms of logic and forensic analysis, they can be hopelessly unreliable as they are based on general opinion, prejudice or limited experience, which does not readily admit exceptions. Their appeal lies, among other things, in their simplicity and shared knowledge between people. In some cases, even if hard evidence is sufficient to prove a conclusion, there could be an expectation that probability and personal information be part of the argument to give an all-around assessment of the case. It might be obvious but it still needs to be said that arguments from probability need to be used with extreme caution. Misjudgement, caused by prejudice or misconception, can lead to deeply tragic consequences, as the notorious case of Carl Beech, a British fraudster, demonstrates. The former paediatric nurse falsely accused high-profile British public figures, politicians and military personnel of running a secretive paedophile ring and sexually abusing and murdering children. Following a costly police investigation, Carl Beech himself proved to be a paedophile in possession of indecent images of children. He was convicted on numerous counts, such as fraud and perverting the cause of justice. Beech was a master of storytelling. In his fantasy accounts of abuse, he mixed factual elements of names and places with graphic descriptions. His statements found credibility with the police initially, probably as the allegations emerged in the shadow of one of the most serious child abuse scandals of modern British history, the case of Jimmy Savile. In the lengthy police investigation, several public figures, such as a former British prime minister and a retired head of the British Army, underwent considerable mental suffering, some of the accused dying before their names were cleared. The infamous case provides valuable examples of the force of likelihood attributed to factual statements, especially when they are embedded in a narrative. The case was also notable, as

64

G. TAHIN

it contained a unique example of what we may call ‘cross-contamination of probabilities’. These arise when parallel circumstances (in this case the Jimmy Savile scandal) which are not directly related to the case lend it credibility due to temporal coincidence. I have discussed various types of probability in classical and modern rhetoric, which are derived from facts or a person’s life and character. Ancient rhetoricians discussed further types of probability attributed to the narrative of events. One purpose of a good narrative in any type of speech is to give a credible account of facts that the audience is likely to listen to with interest and belief. The criminal case of Carl Beech demonstrates that a talented but devious narrator can create an interesting and believable account of events out of an entirely fictitious set of details. A narrative, however, is not independent of other parts of the speech, and its likelihood is always relative to the likelihood of other parts of the speech. A credible retelling of events also prepares the audience for subsequent arguments. The orator must also be an excellent storyteller whose story does not simply give a complete and credible account of the facts but entertains, too. In classical rhetoric, the narrative would generally follow the introduction and precedes the argument proper. The downside of keeping the standard order of the narrative and the argument is that the facts and their assessment become predictable and consequently less interesting for the audience. Greek and Roman orators did not always keep to the traditional order of the speech. They often freely varied the narrative’s position, structure and content to make it appear more probable. A particularly persuasive technique was to blur the line between the narrative and the argument so that the main parts of the narrative are broken up by short arguments, each concluding a section. Another technique, used mainly by Cicero, was the ‘economical’ presentation of facts. He would often leave out crucial details from a section of the narrative. Towards the end of the speech, he presented these details as a ‘revelation’ within the argument, where it had the greatest impact on the audience’s mind. The reverse technique also existed. The narrative may leave out relevant or even significant details of the case to give a more favourable presentation of the facts. Of course, this may lead to the distortion of the truth, but we should remember that rhetoric is not forensic science. A complete and truthful account of events may appear unlikely, and in this case, the orator must provide an account that preserves the truth, even if specific details are left out. Watching the same story on different news channels is an excellent

3

PROBABILITY

65

way to learn about creating and judging the likelihood of a narrative. A good rule of thumb for the orator and the audience is to ask what could have been left out from the story, which was necessary to believe or judge it. The credibility of the narrative is always relative to, or contingent upon, other factors, most importantly, the details of the case. The orator often does not have the leisure to give a complete picture of what happened, as they are constrained by time. The criteria for a plausible argument, such as brevity or clarity, always depend on the available time. The narrative by the opposite side of the case provides a further, major constraint. Facts and their presentation never stand in isolation. In a debate, the orator’s choice of details is also guided by what the opposite side said, say or could have said, but did not. Therefore, the likelihood of someone’s narrative depends on the likelihood of other narratives in the case, especially by the opposite side. However, it is not enough to present a narrative, which is likelier than other possible or existing ones. The audience makes the final judgement on the likelihood of the narrative. Therefore, the facts, the argument, the credibility and skill of the orator, the available time, the opposite side and the audience all determine the outcome. The facts never speak for themselves. The orator must speak on their behalf. The Greek orator Lysias excelled in creating narratives. One of his most notable speeches is Against Eratosthenes , a defence of a man called Euphiletus. He was accused of homicide for killing Eratosthenes, who had an adulterous affair with Euphiletus’ wife and was caught in flagranti in the defendant’s house. The crux of the issue is whether the killing should be classified as justified by being the case of punishing the adulterer or treated as premeditated murder. The defendant’s problem appears to be that Erastothenes escaped Euphiletus’ marital bed, where he could be lawfully killed, to the house sanctuary to seek protection from the gods. The prosecution claimed that Euphiletus deliberately lured Eratosthenes into his house so that he could be killed. The speech is highly interesting and instructive, as it consists almost entirely of a narrative. The story is full of minor, almost forensic, details about the house of Euphiletus, his wife and their life. The narrative is written in plain language, without too many complex sentences and unusual words. The narrative style reflects the honest character of an Athenian man who works on his farm and lives a simple life. The lack of argument is probably due to the fact that extended and elaborate reasoning would have appeared inconsistent with the character of the defendant, making him and his story lose credibility.

66

G. TAHIN

The student can take away at least two important points from the examples in this section. First, probability is a complex phenomenon, attached to separate parts and elements of the speech in different ways and to various degrees. These elements may be separable, but they could also be fused. A typical example is a narrative and evidence. Evidence may be presented at different parts of the speech in multiple ways, often as part of the narrative. The strength of individual pieces of evidence might be gained from the compounding effect of a storyline and logical connection between events and facts. During preparation, the orator should see all parts and the evidence laid out in front of them as if on a map. They should then arrange these strategically to maximise the overall force of probability, always keeping in mind the audience’s point of view.

2

The Plausibility of the Speech

However vague the terms might seem, probability and plausibility are fundamental qualities of a persuasive speech. The previous section described how parts of the speech could appear probable. I will now discuss how the whole speech may reflect the quality of plausibility and probability. A basic assumption is that the speech is probable if it persuades the audience. This advice, of course, seems far too vague to have any practical value, as it does not say in what ways the orator could make the speech persuasive. Yet, for all its vagueness, the assumption points to a fundamental feature of whole-speech probability: it can only be judged vis-à-vis the audience. Rhetorical handbooks give directions about parts of the speech, forms of argument, style and delivery. The question, however, always remains whether following a rhetorical handbook as a guide will guarantee that the audience will find a speech persuasive. The answer is most likely to be ‘no’. A handbook, by nature, offers a system for teaching theoretical knowledge about a speech and its delivery. A carefully designed speech has a very different appeal in front of audiences in different situations. The audience most likely did not read rhetorical handbooks or elaborate examples of oratory to judge what makes a textbook case of an ideal speech. On the other hand, even a poorly written and ineffective speech can be seen as persuasive if conditions favour the orator. I suggest four technical principles that apply to the speech’s overall plausibility. The four principles are language, length, balance and rhythm. These principles highlight aspects of the speech that help the orator create

3

PROBABILITY

67

an overall favourable impression of the argument before the audience and make them better disposed to see the conclusion as (more) plausible. There are ultimately no strict external criteria in a rhetorical situation by which the audience might judge the orator’s arguments. People may pass a judgement on the speech based on, in varying degrees, its evidential material, language, structure, time of delivery, pace and presentation of the speech. A judgement influenced by these factors may not be entirely conscious, rational or justified, but aspects of language and presentation do contribute to the meaning of the argument and affect the audience’s decision. The orator must consider the overall plausibility of the speech dynamically in relation to what the audience would most likely believe. The views of the audience may change, and at times turn out to be highly unpredictable. A notable example of a surprise reaction to a speech’s overall plausibility and delivery is the former American president, G. W. Bush’s passing remark on Donald Trump’s inaugural speech on 20 January 2017. The former Republican president described the new president’s words, which painted a bleak picture of contemporary America, as ‘some weird sh.t’. In this context, G. W. Bush’s opinion was an unusual and powerful expression of disapproval of what is otherwise considered a celebratory event for American democracy. It subsequently attracted much attention in the media. The comment’s effect was compounded by the fact that Bush was from the same party as the incumbent president, and he himself was not considered the most gifted orator of his time. Bush’s view does not so much signal personal disapproval (although the two politicians had conflicts prior to the event) but rather bafflement. Trump’s inaugural speech clearly did not meet the expectations about what an inaugural speech should contain and how it should sound. Inaugural speeches are expected to sound optimistic and reconciliatory to overcome disagreement and division during the election campaign. Donald Trump’s speech hardly fitted into these two categories. Bush’s comment suggests that the new president took on a considerable risk by deviating from the norms of American presidential inaugurations. Not only did it not gain universal approval, but it even managed to outrage a prominent representative of the audience, who by tradition and party affiliation would have been obliged to approve of the incumbent president’s words. The example above shows that the speech’s language themes affect the plausibility of the arguments directly. Traditionally, aspects of language

68

G. TAHIN

belonged to an independent branch of rhetoric, called style, or elocutio in Latin. In later tradition, style became the dominant part of the rhetorical syllabus, with a detailed account of the figures of speech and figures of thought. In heuristic rhetoric, language and style remain fundamentally important as a means to convey the plausibility of the argument. The orator’s style and expression are vital not from an artistic point of view but as a strategic tool to persuade. It is generally assumed that traditional oratory preferred elaborate ‘rhetorical’ style as superior to ordinary language. This is, however, a misconception. Rhetoric does not prescribe one type of style over another. The orator’s language and style is always functional. In a rhetorical situation, language ‘carries and colours’ the argument for the audience to accept it. The audience decides which style is the most effective, elaborate, simple, or a mixture of the two. Recent political history provides several examples of less-gifted and linguistically unsophisticated speakers who gave a more plausible impression than their more experienced and ‘polished’ opponents. For example, Donald Trump’s style of speaking and writing is generally regarded (and criticised) as unusually simplistic, unstructured, brutish and incorrect. His English nevertheless appeals to many of his supporters. They consider him a direct and honest speaker who will not hide behind refined diplomatic language. The former president’s style of English reinforces the plausibility of his political personality and message. As a former businessman and television host, he projects the image of a man who ‘knows what he is talking about and does what he says’. In that sense, his way of creating plausibility is highly successful. As I said earlier, language and style should be understood as a tool to strengthen the plausibility of the argument and the credibility of the orator. An experienced orator is able to mix elements of different (in our example, formal-objective and plain everyday) styles as the disposition of the audience requires. Members of the audience will believe the orator if their words possess a greater degree of authenticity and truthfulness than the opponents’ arguments. Authenticity and truthfulness are not abstract terms. A complex issue, for example, in a debate at a high-level international forum on how to mitigate the effects of climate change, cannot be expressed in plain, everyday language. In this case, a factual and unemotional style with a highly controlled emotional pitch will generally come closest to reflecting the authenticity and truthfulness of the proposed solutions to the problems. On the other hand, the same arguments in an entirely different scenario, for example, in a popular television show or

3

PROBABILITY

69

gathering of disruptive climate protesters, will achieve greater authenticity in a more emotional language and everyday style. Style is never uniformly given. Every orator acquires their personal style, which can be developed further with conscious effort. However, individuality does not mean that the orator’s language and style are permanently unchanging. A key task of any rhetorical instruction is to help the orator discover their authentic form of language unique to them. The effectiveness of the orator depends on the extent to which their choice of words and sentences is flexible enough to adapt to the way the audience perceives the issue under debate. Flexibility of style is possible only if the orator possesses a knowledge of different linguistic registers and has the experience of how these might be used. In today’s global and international scene, there is not one distinguished style in a single language which might be accepted as the standard for rhetorical arguments in any part of the world. For this reason, orators who operate across national boundaries face considerable difficulties in acquiring personal, yet universally appealing schemes of style. National institutions have particular expectations about what they consider an appropriate style of expression. An orator in front of a foreign audience has to overcome linguistic and cognitive barriers to convince their listeners. While this may sound obvious, it is one of the hardest tasks confronting the speaker. As a general rule of thumb, if the orator is thrown into a situation alien to their normal area of operation, they should simplify their style as much as possible and add a small, barely noticeable amount of personal element to appear authentic. A UN envoy who argues in peace negotiations in an Afghan loya jirga, a legal assembly of tribal leaders, will use a markedly different style to present similar arguments, let us say, in the Israeli Knesset. In both cases, the choice of appropriate style depends on external factors. Peace envoys are almost always outsiders in negotiations and likely face great mistrust. One of the most significant problems they face is how to adapt their language and arguments to the way of thinking and style of political discussions with which members of the audience are familiar. Linguistic, cultural and cognitive barriers will hinder the peace envoys. Therefore, the question is what rhetorical style should they adopt to overcome these challenges. In Afghanistan, envoys must be highly aware of the impacts of colonial history, foreign invasion, civil war and distrust towards foreigners from countries that could potentially be considered hostile. Therefore,

70

G. TAHIN

the adopted style of speaking should earn the attention and trust of the listeners. If that is not possible, it should at least mitigate their distrust. The envoys need to be aware that the audience may well perceive them as alien to their thinking and culture. The best option in this scenario is to use a clear, honest and straightforward style conveying deep respect, interest and a degree of humility towards the audience. Brevity is also crucial to gaining and maintaining attention. The envoys must also avoid elaborate diplomatic language with complex sentence structure, rhetorical figures and abstract vocabulary derived from Western political thought, which the Pashto native speakers will distrust. It is probably sensible that the envoys ‘acclimatise’ to local culture and consult people who are experienced in the history, thinking and language of Afghan political negotiations. Peace negotiators in Israel will face markedly different challenges. The audience will be familiar with the mindset of Western political thought and international diplomacy and most of them speak and understand English well. Their cultural and historical experience will, on the other hand, make them a formidable group of listeners to convince. An envoy, who wants to have at least a fighting chance of achieving even a small progress in peace negotiations, must be very well-informed about ancient and modern Jewish history, politics and culture. They should also have a nuanced and, what is nigh impossible, balanced view of the IsraeliPalestinian conflict. Acquaintance with the style of Israeli political thought and language is also essential. Accordingly, the rhetorical style could be a mixture of unadorned direct talk and elaborate language with complex figures, historical references and abstract political ideas. Depending on the composition of the audience, judicious use of religious references may also add useful stylistic variation and evidence of familiarity with the audience’s culture. Speaking in front of audiences in Afghanistan and Israel requires different styles. However, in both cases, the orator must be aware of the challenge inherent in the language used to describe past conflicts in the two countries. The issue may seem philosophical, but it cuts to the heart of the problem the orator faces. Almost any issue, event, problem or conflict can be described in diametrically opposing terms. The Israeli-Palestinian conflict is a classic example of how two sides develop a mutually incompatible language to describe events, argue and propose settlements, depending on their historical experience and political or religious values. Atrocities and crimes committed by both sides can be

3

PROBABILITY

71

justified in this way, making any reconciliation and meaningful discussion impossible. The complexity of the rhetorical situation increases if there are multiple parties in the conflict, each with a distinct language and style to describe events. In the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, foreign countries (such as the United States, Turkey and Iran), international organisations (such as the European Union and the United Nations) and media channels develop their own style of describing events which solidifies over time and prevents a nuanced view of the situation. The orator’s challenge is to find a rhetorical style which avoids discriminatory, worn-out and meaningless language and provides a honest and genuine alternative in a debate which lost direction in violent struggles. There are several issues with choosing a style that strengthens the argument’s plausibility. The choice of style depends as much on experience in speaking as on understanding crowd behaviour and strategic judgement. The orator must be clear about the objective of the speech and decide which style fits best for that purpose. Just as we do not carry ropes, helmets, ice axes and crampons for a summer walk in the local woods, we cannot use certain styles for purposes or environments where they do not fit. It is also crucial to understand which style reflects the orator’s character in a way which also appeals to the audience’s values and ways of thinking. The orator’s style genuinely reflects their attitude towards the audience and the issue under debate. The attitude reflected in their style can be unconscious, and the audience may also react to it in ways that the orator did not foresee and cannot necessarily control. What does the orator have to do to be proficient in their choice and application of styles that contribute to the argument’s plausibility? To write and deliver speeches in a variety of styles while remaining true to one’s own way of speaking, the orator must have extensive knowledge and experience in rhetorical composition. For centuries, learning a sophisticated and highly elaborate rhetorical style which imitated classical writers was a primary aim of school education. One of the assumptions behind this kind of education was that the intricate choice of words, phrases and complex syntactical structures would express clearly the complexity of abstract thought. Such language creates a rhetorical image of an orator who controls the relevant issues and pays close attention to the audience. The way to achieve this aim was to learn the principles of rhetoric, practice composition in writing and imitate classical writers. Today, this assumption commands little authority, yet fundamental principles of style,

72

G. TAHIN

such as clarity, conciseness and grammatical correctness, remain valid, if somewhat neglected. It sounds paradoxical, but the orator’s style is never entirely their own to a full extent. Some of it they inherited from their family, school and social environment. Other elements of rhetorical style come from reading and listening to speechmakers of the past or present. That is not a problem, but there is a risk that the orator may follow other people’s styles slavishly. Once they realise and acknowledge what is not their own, the orator will have the freedom to combine and adapt any element of style, words, phrases, figures, schemes and sentences according to their taste and needs. As a general rule, it is useful for the orator to expose themself to the greatest possible variety of written and spoken language. These may include rhetorical texts, literary prose, verse and drama, philosophy, technical and scientific prose, folklore and diverse forms of spoken language. Reading texts written hundreds or thousands of years ago gives any orator a depth of linguistic and historical insight that would be nigh impossible to acquire elsewhere. While not a necessity, it helps the orator considerably if they can speak and read in other languages, modern and ancient. One of the best examples from which to study a variety of rhetorical styles is Homer’s Iliad, Book 9.4 In 713 lines, Homer presents speeches from the leading men of the Greek army, Diomedes, Agamemnon, Nestor, Odysseus, Achilles and Phoenix. The text is enjoyable in any translation, but it shows its power most in the original. The student will learn how a careful choice of language and arguments leads to the Greek army’s most critical point in the Trojan War. A brief summary of the speeches will give an insight into the stylistic variety adopted by the characters, leading to other features of the speech that add to the argument’s plausibility. The plot of Book 9 is centred on the military crisis in which Achilles, the greatest Greek warrior, has withdrawn himself from the battle after he was insulted by the commander-in-chief of the Greek army, Agamemnon. The book opens with a highly expressive description of the battle scene after a day of fighting. The Trojans have surrounded the Greek camp and those within the camp have been gripped by fear. In this situation, Agamemnon speaks first, briefly. His speech reflects his cowardness as 4 An excellent edition of the text is Wilson, Christopher H., Homer, Iliad Books VIII and IX (Warminster: Aris and Phillips, 1996).

3

PROBABILITY

73

he blames Zeus for deluding him into believing that he would lead the Greek forces to victory, then abruptly encouraging the Greek commanders to flee. Next, Diomedes, one of the mightiest Greek warriors after Achilles, attacks Agamemnon straight on. His language is direct and full of youthful emotion. He insults (‘but he [i.e. Zeus] has not granted you courage…’) the commander-in-chief, dismisses Agamemnon and insists that he will stay with others. Nestor, the oldest and wisest of the Greek leaders, carefully chooses his words, respecting Agamemnon as he acknowledges him as the leader of the Greek forces. Then, unobtrusively Nestor suggests to him that the conflict can be resolved by compensating Achilles. Nestor’s careful approach and balanced style successfully persuade Agamemnon, who can retreat and follow Nestor’s advice without humiliation. The second group of speeches, often considered the best in ‘prerhetoric’ oratory, is delivered in Achilles’ tent. Odysseus opens the series with an urgent appeal to Achilles. Odysseus’ style is concise, reasoned and calculated, reflecting his epithet ‘cunning’. He avoids any reference to the personal conflict between Agamemnon and the Greek hero. Instead, he focuses on a shared sense of concern for the fate of the Trojan expedition and Achilles’ pride. Odysseus’ language is direct and imaginative, moving effortlessly between different themes, such as the elaborate description of war, a parent’s emotional advice and urgent appeals for help. He first paints a dark picture of impending doom to emotionally engage Achilles in the plight of the Greek army and identify him as the solution. He then attempts to cleverly manipulate Achilles’ emotions through a fictional reconstruction of the farewell words of Achilles’ father. Finally, he gives a detailed description of the items Agamemnon promised Achilles in compensation if he returns to the fight. The structure and language of the speech are designed to convey an overwhelming force of persuasion, yet it fails to achieve its purpose. A possible reason for its lack of success might precisely be the impression of cold calculation without much display of empathy or feeling. The conflict between Agamemnon and Achilles was based on honour, yet Odysseus disregards this fact. The lesson from his speech seems to be that intricate style without the genuine engagement of the issues will not produce persuasion. Achilles’ reply is a stylistic masterpiece of rage and insult. As the hero explains it, his words are ‘forthright’, sometimes even insulting (e.g. at the beginning, he describes the ambassadors’ attempt to persuade him as ‘murmuring’, ‘muttering’ or ‘croaking away’). In the situation,

74

G. TAHIN

‘forthrightness’ means that the hero does not follow any rhetorical convention and does not adhere to the rules of rational debates. Achilles effectively neutralises Odysseus’ carefully designed series of arguments with that single word. His direct, personal, and emotional style does not become vulgar. In fact, despite his deep sense of anger and forceful character, Achilles uses vocabulary and figures of speech in some places, which give his words a poetic elegance. He spends much of the speech attacking Agamemnon. If there is an argument at all, it is very crude. Achilles wants to prove that the Greek leader is a selfish coward whose primary objective is self-enrichment, while he avoids fighting. Compared with Odysseus’ carefully structured reasoning with frequent appeals to emotions, Achilles is more free-flowing and discursive, using elaborate descriptions and narratives. While the hero’s words reflect his emotional state of mind, his style indicates conscious choice, a familiarity with rhetorical figures and strategic thinking. His initial attack on Agamemnon’s hypocrisy hits back at the weak point of Odysseus’ argument, the lack of reflection on the original cause of his anger. In the second half of the speech, Achilles gives a full description of the wealth and good life which awaits him if he returns home. This rich imagery should not be read as a rambling diatribe of a raging warrior. Achilles’ point is clear. The commander of the Greek army dishonoured him, but the compensation did not come from genuine remorse. The commander-in-chief was compelled by the fear of destruction to call back the greatest warrior of the army. The exaggerated and intricate descriptions of wealth and future happiness are designed to make Agamemnon’s offer appear inadequate in comparison to Achilles’ sense of dishonour. In response, the final speech of Iliad Book 9 is delivered by Phoenix, Achilles’ former tutor. The old man’s words contrast starkly with both Odysseus’ calculated argument and Achilles’ torrent of rage. Phoenix adopts a leisurely, digressive style, which fits his character as an aged and wise warrior. Most importantly, although his rich storytelling may come across as annoyingly irrelevant and rambling, it fulfils the strategic purpose of reducing tensions and moving the focus of the debate from the issue of honour, which is insoluble. Phoenix understands that a logical style of reasoning cannot persuade Achilles, but his passionate speech indicates that he could be approached by arguments appealing to emotions. As a result, he adopts the persona of a wise old friend and counsellor. The largest part of his speech is taken up by three lengthy stories. One of them is from his own life as a young man, the other an allegory of the

3

PROBABILITY

75

divine Apologies and Ruin, and, finally, the mythical story of Meleagros, who listened to his wife’s pleas in a similar situation and defended the Aetolian people. Each story ends with strong encouragement to Achilles to change his mind and return to the rest of the army. The power of Phoenix’s speech lies in his authentic style of storytelling. His lengthy digressions and exquisite visual details are absorbing. They are narrated in a slow, meandering fashion and have a calming, almost soporific effect on the listener’s mind. Usually, such a style would be regarded as dull and ineffective, but in that highly tense situation, it works well to shift the focus of the argument. The fact that Phoenix’s speech appears rambling and anecdotal should not mislead anyone. The narrative style is adapted to reflect the character of Achilles’ old friend. Odysseus failed to understand what lies at the heart of Achilles’ refusal, while Phoenix knows that the hero’s injured honour will never be put right by reasons and compensation. Phoenix realises what Odysseus failed to see. He does not, in a sense, present any argument for Achilles to change his mind. Instead, he weaves together a series of didactic mythical stories and personal pleas and puts his own character forward as the guarantor of their authenticity. Although Phoenix was unsuccessful, his intercession avoided a sharp and final break-off in the relationship between the Greeks and Achilles, ultimately making Achilles’ return at least conceivable. Phoenix’s speech also allows Ajax to speak briefly and bluntly, reminding Achilles of the need to respect the bonds of friendship among the Greek warriors. The speeches in Iliad Book 9 all stand out in representing the character of the speakers authentically. It may sound like a cliché, but the orator’s credibility is partly established by how genuinely his style reflects their personality. Language, style and arguments contribute to achieving this effect, but these are not necessarily the only elements. Unusual though it may seem the length of the speech can also be regarded as a source of probability, as the speeches of Iliad 9 demonstrate. The difference in the length of the speeches is most obvious among those which were delivered in Achilles’ hut. Odysseus, who starts first, speaks at a moderate length. A well-composed and technically elaborate speech loses its effect if it extends too much, and the first speaker keeps his points concise. Odysseus’ logical style of reasoning is also better reflected by a speech where the listener has a clear expectation that he will finish promptly. In complete contrast, Homer represents Achilles’ emotional character and rage credibly through a seemingly endless flood of anger.

76

G. TAHIN

The length of Achilles’ speech reflects his loss of control over his emotions and the depth of his bitterness as he outlines the benefits of returning home and settling down. In a way, the striking feature of his speech is the extent of his rage. The listeners would expect him to reply briefly. An outburst of anger is usually short, especially if it is intense. The formal setting of the embassy and Odysseus’ rational language are further reasons why the listeners could hope that the warrior would control his anger. The sustained flow of Achilles’ hateful language is thus overwhelming. His speech shocks the envoys into a long period of silence, which marks the lowest point in the embassy, the threat of an immediate end to the negotiations. Phoenix’s speech is striking for its apparent evasiveness and its length, which seems out of proportion from a rational point of view. As I said earlier, it would be a mistake to dismiss the old man’s words as prattling. To understand the force of the argument correctly, we need to consider the role of length. Allowing himself to talk for longer than anyone else, the old king asserts his authority as a wise man and conciliator for the common good of the Greek army. He acts as a crisis manager, and his lengthy anecdotes work exactly as he intended. They calm the emotions, bring back the voice of reason and avoid a complete rupture between Achilles and the ambassadors, which was the most they could achieve. The length of the speech alone is not sufficient to achieve a degree of probability. (Length is also a dangerous weapon that can easily hurt the orator and cost the audience’s support.) A speech is not just a stream of words and sentences (normally, there are exceptions). Every speech is made up of parts that appear in a certain order. The exact order of parts is, in a sense, irrelevant. What matters for the probability of the argument is the balance of the sections, their rhythm and ‘flow’. What are balance, rhythm and flow? On first reading, these words mean nothing more than a smooth progression of the speech from the beginning to the end, without any apparent incongruencies, pauses or stops. Classical rhetoric recommended a particular order for the parts of speech on the grounds of common sense. In theory, keeping a recommended order and choosing the appropriate length for each part ensures that the orator preserves the natural flow and rhythm of the argument. Traditionally, the speech begins with the introduction (exordium), followed by the narratio (an account of events), partitio (a division of argument), argumentatio (argument, proof and refutation) and finished with the peroratio (conclusion). The length of the speech would be

3

PROBABILITY

77

decided by how much time and weight is given to individual sections. The reality of speech-making is, as always, more complicated than simply knowing the parts of the speech, their order and their so-called ‘virtutes et vitia’, ‘virtues and faults’. The practice of oratory shows that no hard rules exist about whether these sections should all appear separately or whether one or more of them can be left out. In fact, there are no rules, certainly not in modern times, which would prescribe that any of the traditional parts of speech must be present in an argument. The principle seems to be here, as elsewhere, ‘quid prodest ’, ‘what is useful’ from the point of view of persuading the audience in the specific case. The traditional view helps, up to a point. To maintain a relative balance between the main parts, the orator could make the beginning and the end shorter (together with the so-called partitio, the division of the argument). The narrative is longer than the previous three divisions but still concise. The argument is assumed to take up most of the space within the speech, with a larger proportion of the time devoted to proving the case than to the refutation of the opponent. This general pattern is useful as a guideline. However, it is better to regard it as a template that can, if necessary, almost always be adapted to whatever the existing circumstances are. For example, the Attic orator, Lysias, might devote much speech to the narrative and less to a separate argument. He relies on his talent as an entertaining storyteller. His narratives are fast-paced and thrilling, and some of them can be read as stand-alone crime stories. His arguments are invisibly embedded in the narrative. As a result, it can be difficult to spot the weaknesses in his proof. Other classical orators establish rhythm and balance differently. Cicero’s speeches have excellent narratives, but they rarely dominate the whole of the speech. Sometimes he maintains the rhythm of his speeches by breaking up the narrative and delaying key elements to add variety and maintain interest. Are there any general suggestions about pace, balance and rhythm? In general, one should keep each part of the speech concise and varied in terms of style and thoughts and carefully mark the logical transition between sections. To extend a speech further than what the audience can follow with attention and patience is hazardous and should only be done if the orator is fully confident about controlling every aspect of the rhetorical situation. To bring together the strands of the discussion about probability and plausibility, I quote below the beginning of a speech by a native American,

78

G. TAHIN

the Seneca Red Jacket, Sagoyewatha, on loyalty to the native Indian religion. The speech is remarkable for numerous reasons, but at this point, I will only indicate some of its features related to the idea of probability and plausibility, again used in the widest sense. The speech is very concise; it fills barely more than two pages. The brevity of Red Jacket’s argument nevertheless belies complex reasoning, where most aspects of probability, argument, narrative, length and rhythm play a significant role. The speaker adopts a simple, almost Spartan, style and a form of language (e.g. the persistent anaphora of ‘Brother’) which make the audience feel welcomed and respected in a rhetorical environment and system of beliefs very different from that of the listener(s). The narrative and the ‘theological’ arguments are presented with succinctness and power. One of the most notable features of the speech is the restraint of its language and arguments. The historical situation in which Red Jacket spoke was disastrous for native Americans, including acts against Indian tribes, which today could be classed as genocide. From this point of view, the speaker’s respectfulness, generous spirit and moderation could be enough to grant a strong degree of probability to the argument. ‘Friend and brother; it was the will of the Great Spirit that we should meet together this day. He orders all things, and he has given us a fine day for our council. He has taken his garment from before the sun, and caused it to shine with brightness upon us; our eyes are opened, that we see clearly; our ears are unstopped, that we have been able to hear distinctly the words that you have spoken; for all these favours we thank the Great Spirit, and him only. Brother, this council fire was kindled by you; it was at your request that we came together at this time; we have listened with attention to what you have said. You requested us to speak our minds freely; this gives us great joy, for we now consider that we stand upright before you, and can speak what we think; all have heard your voice, and all speak to you as one man; our minds are agreed. Brother, you say you want an answer to your talk before you leave this place. It is right you should have one, as you are a great distance from home, and we do not wish to detain you; but we will first look back a little, and tell you what our fathers have told us, and what we have heard from the white people. Brother, listen to what we say. There was a time when our forefathers owned this great island. Their seats extended from the rising to the setting sun. The Great Spirit had made it for the use of Indians. He had created

3

PROBABILITY

79

the buffalo, the deer, and other animals for food. He made the bear and the beaver, and their skins served us for clothing. He had scattered them over the country, and taught us how to take them. He had caused the earth to produce corn for bread. All this he had done for his red children because he loved them. If we had any disputes about hunting grounds, they were generally settled without the shedding of much blood. But an evil day came upon us; your forefathers crossed the great waters, and landed on this island. Their numbers were small; they found friends, and not enemies; they told us they had fled from their own country for fear of wicked men, and come here to enjoy their religion. They asked for a small seat; we took pity on them, granted their request, and they sat down amongst us; we gave them corn and meat; they gave us poison in return. The white people had now found our country; tidings were carried back, and more came amongst us; yet we did not fear them, we took them to be friends; they called us brothers; we believed them, and gave them a larger seat. At length, their numbers had greatly increased; they wanted more land; they wanted our country. Our eyes were opened, and our minds became uneasy. Wars took place; Indians were hired to fight against Indians, and many of our people were destroyed. They also brought strong liquor among us; it was strong and powerful, and has slain thousands…’.

3

The Credibility of the Orator

The credibility of the speaker has often been acknowledged as one of the single most important elements of persuasion. A credible personality may be a weak public speaker. However, the force of his or her persona could carry more weight in a case than a highly persuasive and well-designed argument by an experienced orator. A credible personality has, so to say, built up over time ‘reserves’ of persuasiveness, which would otherwise have to be established during the speech. As such, credibility saves the orator words, time and energy. Since credibility contributes directly to the overall persuasiveness of the orator’s argument in a specific case, it is best be discussed as part of probability. The question that most readers would wish to be answered directly at this point is what makes the speaker’s personality powerful. Aristotle is a good starting point. The Greek philosopher suggests that the three features which make up a credible rhetorical persona are excellence or moral virtue (aret¯e), practical wisdom or prudence in government and

80

G. TAHIN

public affairs (phron¯esis ) and goodwill towards the audience or people in general (eunoia). Some rhetoricians would argue that these qualities are too abstract for rhetorical instruction. However, they can be interpreted as a waypoint, knowing that credibility in a particular case is a much more complex phenomenon. There is a further point to be drawn from Aristotle’s account of ¯ethos and rhetorical credibility in general. However many elements of credibility there are, any aspect of personal character results from long development. At the same time, it is generally agreed that it takes much time to build up genuine and stable rhetorical credibility. The orator’s ethical and reputational ‘capital’ is fragile and easy to damage, potentially irreparably. Within the framework of heuristic rhetoric, credibility is one of the most complex features of the whole rhetorical situation. It depends on audience perception and is immune to argumentation; it is very difficult to change by immediate strategic considerations. There is another way to look at the credibility of the orator in a case, in terms of sources. Rhetorical credibility can be derived from the orator’s way of life, actions, expressed views, values and association with others. The orator can also prove his trustworthiness by what they say and the language they use to present his argument. The third source of credibility, which may be termed ‘collateral’, is the least controllable by the orator. Collateral credibility is a degree of trustworthiness conferred on the speaker through an association with a particular group, faith, nation or institution. A concrete example of collateral credibility is Pope Francis speaking in front of victims of clerical child abuse, expressing his deep shame and apologising for horrendous acts of crime perpetrated by clerical abusers. The pope, as an individual, commands considerable respect, which makes the audience receptive. However, as head of an institution that had a history and extensive record of child abuse and cover-up, he would struggle to persuade the audience about his determination to confront all the abuse-related issues. Similarly to other faith communities, an institution, such as the Catholic Church, has reserves of public positive (and negative) credibility accrued over centuries, which may mitigate the reputational damage caused by the child abuse scandals over the world. Collateral credibility is not negative. In most cases, people use (and sometimes abuse) its positive effects. An elected politician, a head of state, a leader or member of a prestigious academic or international organisation, or a director of a company, all rely on the ‘capital’ of trustworthiness that an institution

3

PROBABILITY

81

or organisation accumulates over time. Even the fact that someone is given the opportunity to speak in front of a crowd of people, especially in an environment purpose-built to deliver speeches, endows the orator with considerable authority and a degree of credibility, be it positive or negative. An important aspect of credibility and trustworthiness the orator needs to be aware of is its dynamic nature. When the speech begins, the orator has a certain view of the credibility he accumulated over time, and the audience has a perception of how much they trust the speaker. In terms of persuasion, the interaction between the orator’s character and the audience’s perception matters the most, and the interaction constantly evolves as the speech progresses (and even after it ends). A heuristic understanding of persuasion considers the dynamic nature of credibility and makes it part of his rhetorical strategy, especially if the audience’s perception is less than favourable. The key point about credibility is that it should be a significant consideration in planning the rhetorical strategy of a case. A speaker with credibility issues has to think carefully about their language and organisation of argument, to avoid discussing any delicate issues which might further alienate members of the audience. The best advice, in this case, would be a milder tone, careful, non-confrontative language and a gradual introduction of complicated issues. In the opposite case, the speaker with reserves of trustworthiness will naturally have an advantage, but that does not mean that the audience will accept any argument, especially one which reflects a lack of care and preparation. There is also a danger that a strong reputation and high levels of credibility make the orator sound over-confident and arrogant, which in some instances can be disastrous. But not necessarily. The former American president Donald Trump gives a paradoxical counterexample to the assumption that the foundation of genuine credibility is truthfulness. (Although his credibility is a more complex rhetorical and social phenomenon than many of his critics would be willing to accept.)

CHAPTER 4

Temporality

The previous chapter discussed how personal credibility is built up over a length of time. It is never complete but always evolves and changes during the orator’s life and when a speech progresses during delivery. Aside from the problem of what makes the orator trustworthy, the notso-obvious point was that the complex phenomenon of credibility could best be viewed within a dynamic temporal framework and not as a static feature. The idea of developing a temporal view of many aspects of a complex rhetorical situation leads us directly to the third ‘pillar’ of heuristic rhetoric, which revolves around time. I should clarify right at the beginning that the questions about the role of time in rhetoric are not the same as in philosophy or physics. However, a certain level of abstraction is necessary to highlight the important role time plays in rhetorical argumentation. The concept of temporality is singularly important for the heuristic understanding of persuasion. Temporal considerations govern how the speech reflects on events outside it and how it marks temporal duration within itself. Time plays a role in many aspects of preparation and delivery, most of which are highly contingent and contribute significantly to the probability of the argument. Therefore, the orator should be aware of any external and internal elements of persuasion associated with time and devise an argumentative strategy to reflect these features. © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_4

83

84

G. TAHIN

Time as an independent concept has never been a central element of rhetorical theories. The traditional place for considerations about time in rhetoric has generally been the notion of kairos , a Classical Greek concept, meaning due measure, proportion, fitness, the right point of time, the proper time of action and the critical time. The notion of kairos has been studied intensely in recent decades, and as such, it features prominently in modern rhetorical studies. Kairos can be understood in many ways, and as a result, it is difficult to give simple rules about its practical use. A lesser-known Greek orator, Alcidamas, was particularly interested in the opportunities which kairos provided. In a speech called On the Sophists or On Those who Write Speeches, he extols the advantages of speakers who do not commit their speeches to writing, thus allowing themselves greater flexibility when an opportunity or unexpected event (kairos ) arises.1 ‘[22] I believe, too, that extemporaneous speakers exercise a greater sway over their hearers than those who deliver set speeches; for the latter, who have laboriously composed their discourses long before the occasion, often miss their opportunity. It happens that they either weary their listeners by speaking at too great length, or stop speaking while their audience is fain to hear more. [23] Indeed, it is difficult, if not impossible, for human foresight accurately to estimate the disposition of an audience as to the length of a speech. But the extemporaneous speaker has the advantage of being able to adapt his discourse to his audience; he can abbreviate or extend at will’. (translated by LaRue Van Hook) The difficulty with the practical application of kairos is not very dissimilar (except for the theological message) to the case in the Gospel of Luke, where Jesus says, ‘When you see a cloud looming up in the west you say at once that rain is coming, and so it does. And when the wind is from the south you say it will be hot, and it is. Hypocrites! You know how to interpret the face of the earth and the sky. How is it you do not know how to interpret these times?’ In its most basic form, the idea of kairos helps to identify elements within the speech and its delivery, where timing plays a crucial role. I suggest here two possible ways to understand the concept of good timing. One form of kairos can be perceived in relation to the audience and the other in connection with the parts of speech. In both cases, the choice of appropriate timing involves strategic decisions about

1 A recent edition of the text with a helpful commentary is Alcidamas , The Works & Fragments, edited by Muir, John V. (London: Bloomsbury, 2001).

4

TEMPORALITY

85

several aspects of the speech, such as the arrangement of the arguments, and the choice affects all elements of the rhetorical situation. When applied to the audience, the skill of choosing the right moment for persuasion involves watching, interpreting correctly and acting on the ‘signals’, such as attention, mood, expression, gestures and feelings, communicated by the audience. If the ‘signals’ indicate that the audience is receptive to what the orator wants to say, then the time has come to push through with the key message. This brief description is necessarily an oversimplification of a complex situation, but at least it provides a starting point. One thing is clear. The skills involved in making decisions about the most opportune time for persuasion require a high degree of understanding of human behaviour and social psychology. The second type of kairos is related to the first yet distinct in that finding the appropriate time involves a decision about when certain parts of the speech, for example, direct evidence in the form of witness testimony or the revelation of an important piece of information, should be introduced. In some cases, for example, where the audience shows hostility towards the orator, it is wiser to delay key parts of the argument until the listeners develop some trust towards the speaker. Again, the right timing of a part of the speech does not happen in isolation. Any decision about where and when something could be said involves the overall plan of the speech. Understanding appropriate timing in a rhetorical situation is a critical skill for the orator, and it has an almost unlimited number of applications. However, it is not the only place where temporality plays a role in persuasion. From a strategic point of view, a very crude, and in some ways misleading, way to distinguish aspects of temporality is deciding which feature is external or internal to the speech. External aspects include the sequence of events relevant to the speech before the delivery. It also involves aspects of timing the delivery in relation to the audience. The most obvious internal form of temporality is the sequence of events or facts constructed within the narrative (or any story related to the speech), but it also involves the timing of individual parts of speech in relation to each other. A good example of timing, when the orator uses a seemingly innocuous opportunity to ‘set off a bomb’ with major and long-lasting political effects, is Nikita Khruschev’s speech as the First Secretary of the Communist Party of the USSR at the 20th Party Congress in Moscow on 25 February 1956. In the speech, contrary to expectations, he denounced the excesses of Stalin’s rule and thus heralded a new era of Soviet history

86

G. TAHIN

and politics. In the next two sections, I will provide some examples of these aspects of temporality and how they inform overall strategic decisions.

1

External Aspects of Temporality

What does the principle of temporality add to preparing a persuasive speech? In the previous section, I described external aspects of temporality as individual events or a series of events which are on a timescale outside the speech’s framework but directly influence the narrative and argument. External aspects of temporality are entities which happen independently of the rhetorical situation and the speech but are relevant to the case. These temporal factors are possibly unexpected and barely detectable but affect every aspect of the case and the persuasive process. Therefore, the orator must consider every event or temporal frame related to the case in the broadest possible sense during the preparation of the speech. The essence of rhetorical temporality is developing the ability to view events as part of an interconnected network surrounding the rhetorical situation, to understand the logical, causal or other types of relationships between them and use this understanding to increase the perspicuity and persuasiveness of the speech. A spatial analogy will help to understand how the historical perspective plays a role in a speech. Let us imagine a military outpost in a remote mountainous region. The outpost has several purposes. It provides defence and accommodation for the soldiers, serves as a base for operations, and acts as a centre from where soldiers can go on patrol, interact with the local population or attack the enemy. The commander of the outpost must be able to develop an intricate picture of the entire area, with all its elements interrelated near and far, and understand how each element of the terrain affects the military unit’s mission. A paper and digital map can support this mental picture. However, it ultimately depends on the commander’s knowledge, ability and state of mind at a particular moment to use the abstract image for a specific purpose. Similarly, the idea of temporality requires the orator to develop a mental picture of interconnected events and use the image to best support the purpose of the speech. A key element of temporality for the orator is what we may call the historical perspective(s) of the case. ‘Historical perspective’ is a term I use for an extended period that precedes or follows the rhetorical situation.

4

TEMPORALITY

87

The length of time for a historical perspective is never set but determined entirely by the orator’s skill and knowledge, the details of the case and the need to persuade the audience. I will give three examples as an illustration of how historical perspectives can be construed. A lawyer who defends a petty thief in a lower court will concentrate on the acts of the crime itself, and the edge of the temporal horizon will most likely not extend beyond the defendant’s childhood. Perhaps in an appeal for clemency, the lawyer may recount the adverse experiences of the defendant. The judge, in this case, will not be amused (unless exceedingly bored) if the lawyer enters a discussion about the origins of sin beginning from Adam and Eve and the course of biblical salvation history. However, the defence of a British army soldier accused of the alleged killings of innocent civilians during the Troubles-era in Northern Ireland will inevitably adopt a historical perspective extending to the 1970s. In this case, the speaker may decide to use the historical perspective as evidence to argue that the trial should not go ahead. (Families of victims, on the other hand, would argue that the lapse of time does not affect the soldier’s culpability). The third example shows a speech whose temporal horizon extends to thousands of years, yet the events referred to still appear relevant at the time of speaking. In this example, the orator adopts a historical perspective that goes back to when democracy flourished in Classical Athens in the 5th-4th centuries BC. President Obama’s remarks at the Stavros Niarchos Foundation Cultural Center in Athens, Greece, on 16 November 2016 appeal directly to the heyday of Athenian democracy as a cultural and political heritage shared by countries around the world which (ideally) inspired Obama during his presidency.2 In all these three instances, the temporal perspective adopted by the speaker has been determined by the case at hand and the rhetorical situation. However, the speaker’s knowledge, experience and judgement were necessary to adapt the perspective effectively. The three examples above suggest that ‘historical perspective’ does not necessarily mean a period of several centuries. ‘Historical’ should be understood as any length of time which surrounds and supports the argument and contributes to its persuasiveness. Adopting a certain perspective may even simply involve showing off the orator’s knowledge, reinforcing 2 The full text of the speech can be accessed at https://obamawhitehouse.archives. gov/the-press-office/2016/11/16/remarks-president-obama-stavros-niarchos-founda tion-cultural-center.

88

G. TAHIN

their credibility or entertaining (and possibly distracting) the audience with stories or facts from a period which is not directly relevant to the case. The choice of a historical perspective is often arbitrary. The arbitrariness of the chosen length of time in the speech could lead to a heavy manipulation of the sequence of events and the significance attributed to specific historical claims. An example might be the appeal to ancient historical (e.g. biblical) events or times to justify the occupation of a territory in another nation’s possession. The question arises of how the orator acquires the skill to construct a historical perspective to their advantage. Clearly, a historical perspective useful for the orator cannot simply be derived from reading a library of books titled ‘The History of …’, although such books should be a necessary, if not sufficient, condition for that kind of knowledge. How someone develops a historical consciousness is a complex process and a subject of interdisciplinary study involving several areas of scholarship, for example, developmental psychology, history and various branches of philosophy, which is not the subject of this book. However, I will suggest some basic and practical ways that may be helpful for that purpose. Naïve though it may seem, a constant programme of reading books on various historical periods and themes is a necessary element of developing for rhetorical purposes a nuanced view of historical timescales and how events in them interrelate. Another source of knowledge about temporal perspective is the study of speeches (political, legal etc.) from different ages and cultural backgrounds. The study should focus on what timescale and perspective the orator adopts and how the evidence and the argument make use of it (e.g. a constant appeal to a nation’s ‘glorious past’ masks its present failures). The choice of timescale in a speech should best be approached with caution. As a practical measure, a less experienced orator would choose a shorter perspective, closer to the present time, which makes the handling of events, evidence and argument more manageable. Different types of speeches will also require different perspectives. For example, a speech at a national memorial event would most likely adopt a perspective directed towards the past. A political speech discussing a proposal about introducing a controversial new technology (e.g. the widespread use of facial recognition cameras in public spaces or the introduction of driverless cars), on the other hand, will adopt a temporal perspective looking towards the future. It is important to remember that temporal perspectives are highly adaptable and the ultimate measure of their adoption is their effectiveness.

4

TEMPORALITY

89

When choosing a historical perspective, the orator should also consider events immediately before and during the delivery as these exert a direct pull on the outcome. One might call them close external factors, and the period of time in which the presentation of the speech is embedded might be called its micro-environment. I used the word ‘immediate’ to describe the temporal limit of these factors, while no precise account can be given of what belongs to the micro-environment of the delivery. When judging which events are present or recent for the purpose of delivery, the historical scale of the case gives a good point of comparison. Any event that directly impacts delivery, for example, forcing the orator (perhaps against their will) to make unexpected or unplanned changes to the argument, can be classified as close enough to require attention. To illustrate how we can do this, I will use the three examples of historical perspectives I gave at the beginning of this chapter. In the first case, at the trial of the petty thief, the immediate external factors of the delivery will most likely extend no further than the day of the trial or one or two days earlier at most. The micro-environment of the trial on historical crimes committed during the Troubles in Northern Ireland could include events in the previous weeks or months. For example, the death of a key witness or one of the defendants may still be classified as ‘immediate’, as they directly impact what and how the speaker might say at the trial. The final example, Barack Obama’s speech in Athens, is difficult. The historical perspective, in this case, stretches over two millennia, which is an inconceivably long period of time to identify what should count as directly relevant for the time of delivery. However, the introductory sections of the speech give some clues as to which event may immediately relate to the speech’s delivery. I will underline the phrases which serve as anchors to determine what counts as temporally close or immediate in this case. ‘As many of you know, this is my final trip overseas as President of the United States, and I was determined, on my last trip, to come to Greece—partly because I’ve heard about the legendary hospitality of the Greek people—your philoxenia. Partly because I had to see the Acropolis and the Parthenon. But also because I came here with gratitude for all that Greece—“this small, great world”—has given to humanity through the ages’. The phrases underlined suggest that the temporal micro-environment of the speech extends to the years of Obama’s presidency. The general reference to his gratitude most likely indicates his personal encounters with Greek culture, which evolved in his adult life, as he explains in later parts of the speech.

90

G. TAHIN

The last two types of external temporal factors that an orator should consider during preparations are the temporal elements of the delivery itself and future events or timescales. I will begin by discussing temporal features which might arise during the delivery. The most obvious temporal feature of the speech is its length. While it may appear simple, managing the time available for a speech is one of the most difficult tasks the orator needs to encounter. The allocated time for the speech may be fixed or without specific limits. Neither case is straightforward. Keeping to a time limit seems an easier option in terms of preparation, but even in this case, restricting a speech to a precise length is not without difficulty, as temporal constraints can override considerations about constructing a persuasive argument. If the orator is not restricted in terms of time, it does not, of course, mean that they have an unlimited amount of time available to talk. The difficulty comes from judging what the audience and the rhetorical situation demand and expect from the orator. Two extreme examples will be sufficient here to indicate the challenges an orator might face when considering the length of the speech. Acceptance speeches at the annual Academy Awards are strictly restricted to 45 seconds. Such a short period of time (combined with other circumstances of the ceremony, such as the element of surprise for those awarded) creates unique challenges in terms of what can be said to achieve a memorable effect. On the other end of the scale, Fidel Castro was notable for speaking to audiences in Cuba for hours on end. In his case, it is clear that only basic human needs would limit how long he could, and it is debatable what rhetorical or political ends he wanted to achieve by testing his audience’s physical and cognitive abilities to their limits. Lengthy speeches are mostly frowned upon nowadays and viewed suspiciously as evidence for the speaker’s lack of substance and self-control. Therefore, the general advice is to keep speeches short within reason, with the proviso that it is ultimately the rhetorical situation and the audience’s reaction that decide what must be said and for how long. Another point to observe here is that even with the most minute preparation, it is never possible to judge the length of the speech in advance. Observing and managing the audience’s reactions carefully and judging correctly what all temporal factors of the case demand the orator is an advanced skill that develops with conscious learning through experience. The best orators create a self-contained temporal framework for the delivery, which seems independent of any constraint imposed by external circumstances.

4

TEMPORALITY

91

The final element of external temporal is events and timescales in the aftermath of delivery. It is common sense to believe that the task of the orator ended when they finished delivering the speech. It may seem that the orator has no more control over what happens in the future with the delivery complete. In some sense, this is true, but the orator should still be aware of and learn to anticipate events that could happen after delivery. There are obviously severe limits as to what an orator may be able to affect in the future, yet it is clear that certain things may or will happen as a result of the speech. Most of what comes after the speech is not in the speaker’s control, yet a persuasive orator learns to have a greater degree of influence over future events. Anticipating future temporal factors is not just a question of management and control but even more so of moral responsibility. I have already talked about the moral dimension of the orator’s work at the end of Chapter 1. Here I only want to point out that one of the most significant, practical consequences of the orator’s moral choices is what the audience might believe, think and do after the speech. The moral imperative of rhetoric dictates that the orator say nothing which will mislead the audience, urge the listeners to commit any form of violence and, as a result, cause significant harm. After such sombre words of caution, I will now discuss some common forms of temporal factors the orator can learn to incorporate into planning the speech. The easiest way to consider what may happen after delivery is to apply the same close- and long-range perspective as we did for past events and timescales. Let us start with events near the time of delivery. The most obvious point to consider during planning is the audience’s immediate reaction. The reaction might come in the form of a decision (such as a parliamentary vote or a judgement on criminal responsibility), a specific change in attitude (e.g. an acknowledgment that some did something wrong and show contrition) or an action. I will give a slightly absurd example to highlight how one may prepare for the immediate outcome of the speech. If someone prepares to give a speech which deliberately mocks and provokes the crowd, they should expect to be attacked at any time during delivery, so it is better to plan some escape routes. The previous example may look fanciful, but there has been an infamous recent case, where the relationship between a speech and its immediate effects played a decisive role. On 6 January 2021, Donald Trump, the former U.S. president gave a speech to his supporters on the Ellipse in Washington, D.C., at the same time as the vice-president, Mike

92

G. TAHIN

Pence, and the Congress was certifying the results of the November 2020 U.S. presidential elections. The speech was long and rambling, repeated favourite topics of the president, including tirades against mainstream media outlets and social media platforms, the timidity of members of the Republican Party to defend him and, most importantly, the allegation that he won the election. One of his most memorable lines was ‘We fight like hell. And if you don’t fight like hell, you’re not going to have a country anymore’. Following his speech, the crowd marched to Capitol Hill, attacked, ransacked and temporarily occupied the U.S. Congress. In this case, the speech has become a central piece of evidence in Donald Trump’s second impeachment trial. The defence argued that the president did not incite the crowd to attack the Capitol despite his fiery language. Whether or not Donald Trump planned to have the crowds move against the Capitol, the speech is an excellent example of what may be the intended or unintended immediate consequence of the orator’s words, which he or she cannot in good conscience ignore. Once the orator considers the possible (and likely) immediate effects of the speech, the next step is to think about the intermediate temporal horizon of the speech. What could be the medium-term consequences of a speech? I suggest two examples of what an orator may need to consider during preparation. The first example builds on a previous case I mentioned, Donald Trump’s speech to his supporters on 6 January 2021. In an ideal case (which it clearly was not), the president, his advisors or his speechwriters would have anticipated that giving a rousing speech to a crowd with a large number of radical supporters who had earlier shown readiness to take violent action might later lead to criminal proceedings, in which case the speech, the broader circumstances of its delivery and the actions which followed would all be scrutinised and used as evidence. Another less extreme example of medium-term events for consideration is what may be called a catena, or chain, of speeches. This term means that in certain scenarios, for example, in political or social campaigns, an orator must deliver a series of speeches in a relatively short period of a few weeks or months, all with a similar structure and content. One way to address this task is to have a basic model speech in which the core elements (‘its message’) remain intact, while the orator constantly alters its text, argument and means of delivery to adapt to changing audiences and circumstances. One such example is the U.S. presidential campaign, where a candidate delivers a series of speeches with the same or very similar content for several months. The changes depend partly

4

TEMPORALITY

93

on the ingenuity, talent and energy of the orator. They are dictated by the composition of every new audience, the place and time of delivery and the constantly accumulating series of events (e.g. the actions of rival candidates). In a punishing campaign schedule, nobody can constantly prepare and deliver entirely new speeches. Repetition is inevitable, and it can be done by adding variations to earlier speeches of the candidate. Series of speeches delivered during a campaign have another aspect to observe. Each campaign has a dynamic, with the momentum building up to a final voting date. Therefore, the candidate and his campaign team do not simply focus on the single speech about to be delivered next but also on how the themes and pitch of speeches in the near future maintain and increase the momentum of the whole campaign. Few orators and politicians possess the energy and foresight to coordinate all the future temporal and other variables of when delivering a series of speeches in quick succession, under intense pressure and scrutiny. One way to counter this problem is to acquire a team of strategists and speechwriters who, ideally, assist in the strategic planning and day-to-day preparation of speeches for the candidate. The final element of the future temporal horizon for the orator to consider is events which may happen in the long-term perspective in the aftermath of the speech’s delivery. Like a long-term weather forecast, any event or timescale in this area is highly uncertain and unpredictable, so prediction and planning require caution and judicious scepticism. One question that naturally arises about the long-term horizon of the speech is why the orator should worry about events that he or she will unlikely have any control over in the distant future. Due to the level of uncertainty, such considerations do not need to have a great influence on the argument of the speech. Two reasons suggest that speeches do sometimes have longterm consequences. One is related to the person of the orator and the influence of the speech on social or political issues that develop over a more extended period of time. In the first case, where the possible long-term effects of the speech are relevant to the person of the orator, we might call it an accumulation of credibility. Let us take the imaginary case of an orator, an aspiring politician with a great talent for speaking. This fictional orator makes a speech at a venue to an audience. The events become highly controversial and deeply damaging for the orator’s political career. People never forget or forgive our orator’s attendance at the event, so he never reaches the prominence he would have, had he avoided the debacle. In this fictional

94

G. TAHIN

case, a single speech affects the orator’s credibility and career for the rest of his life. The example highlights what I call the accumulation of personal credibility. Every speech the orator delivers, together with their general conduct in life, contributes to a ‘credibility capital’ accrued during their career. While a single speech may seem insignificant compared with the orator’s overall career, it carries weight and can make or break someone’s prospects, as seen in this fictional example. Therefore, the orator must carefully consider the possible long-term effects of every word they utter in front of the audience. The second scenario, where the orator would consider the long-term prospects of a speech, is at historically significant moments. The phrase ‘historical moment’ is often overused to the point of incomprehensibility. Nevertheless, it is still the case that at certain times, an orator reacts to a constellation of circumstances which in themselves have significant longterm effects. It may also be the case that instead of circumstances bringing it about, the orator may deliver a speech that proves to be a moment of historical proportion, even though they are unaware of the speech’s implications in the distant future. An example of the former, where the orator reflects on what turned out to be historically remarkable events, could be Martin Luther’s speech during the rally ‘March for Freedom and Jobs’ in Washington, D.C., on 28 August 1963, ‘I have a dream’, which marked the pinnacle of the American civil rights movement between 1954 and 1968. I have now discussed several temporal factors external to a speech. Understanding these factors enables the orator to manage the temporal framework of the speech in a way that helps persuade the audience. I would only like to add two notes to the end of this section. The survey concentrated on individual factors which may directly impact the language and argument of the speech. Nevertheless, the matrix of past, present and future events and timescales relevant to the speech should always be treated as an interconnected network and not as a set of individual, isolated factors. Past and present events may be directly or indirectly related to what happens after the delivery. Recognising which events are relevant and what connections may exist between them is always contingent on how well the orator understands the dynamically changing rhetorical situation. It requires continued assessment of what happened, is happening and will happen in what timescale and it cannot be done by a pre-prepared template or algorithm. It is for this reason that temporality is a fundamental heuristic principle.

4

2

TEMPORALITY

95

Internal Aspects of Temporality

A speech represents actual events relevant to the case and the rhetorical situation. The orator selects (or leaves out) and describes events in the order they consider the most advantageous for persuading the audience. However, the speech does not simply represent external events. It is also an event extended in time with its internal temporal framework, which is connected to but ultimately independent of the sequence of external events and temporal frameworks the orator considers relevant and persuasive in preparation for delivery. Elements of this framework include the narrative, events described outside the narrative and the temporal relationship between parts of the speech. This brief introduction may sound overly abstract, but constructing the internal temporal framework of the speech does not need to be complicated in practice. An example will help understand what is meant by it. Let us take an imaginary defence case in which someone is accused of the attempted murder of their neighbour following a lengthy dispute about property borders. The defence counsel will discuss details of the property dispute, the history of the relationship between the two neighbours and the attempted murder. The speech will include a narrative and an argument interspersed with individual events. The internal timeframe is made up of the narrative of these events. The temporal relationship between events is linear in its simplest and most common form, just like a traditional story or film structure. The orator begins with how the conflict started, tells how things deteriorated and ends with the climax, the attempted murder. In many cases, this might indeed be the most rhetorically effective approach. Let us change the story slightly and assume that the case involved a celebrity and the story was widely publicised in the papers. The audience, the judge or the jury already knows most of the details. The orator, therefore, might conclude that the standard, linear narrative is not just unnecessary but also counterproductive. What are the options? To avoid information overload and fatigue, or as a result of time pressure, they could treat events selectively. Following a summary of the main developments, they choose events which best give evidential support to the conclusion that the defendant did not intend or attempt to murder the injured party. In this case, the orator’s skill lies in the ability to select events and details economically for the greatest persuasive effect and

96

G. TAHIN

remain truthful to the facts, preserving the structural integrity of the original narrative. Another possibility, especially if the case has a complex history that requires extended treatment, is to alternate elements of storytelling and argument while maintaining a linear development of events. As a highly unusual and risky choice, they can turn the chronology of events around, going backwards from the most recent to the earlier events. This strategy goes against common expectations. It can nevertheless be helpful if the standard linear chronology presented by the opposite party appears to imply a conclusion damaging to the defendant. The example above showed that the internal timeframe of the whole speech is not determined in advance, and it requires a form of conscious heuristic thinking when selecting facts and constructing a clear temporal pattern. In the following, I will concentrate on two aspects of the internal temporal framework: the narrative itself and the temporal structure of the whole speech. Traditional rhetoric (e.g. Quint. Inst. Or. 4.2) places the narrative at the beginning of the speech after the introduction. Its function is to give as succinctly as possible an account of events in a truthful, plausible and persuasive way and prepare the audience to understand the argument. Classical rhetorical handbooks advise that the narrative be as brief as possible, although it can be supplemented by digressions, which provide additional, relevant information to the case or entertain the audience. Though emphasising brevity as a virtue, the classical account of the narrative does not specify the temporal structure of events. It works well in a rhetorical case whose procedural boundaries and evidence base are clear (e.g. in a court case, where events are mostly agreed on). However, in complex or constantly evolving rhetorical scenarios (e.g. in a political campaign), the classical doctrine can be supplemented by applying the heuristic notion of temporality in the strategic construction of the narrative sequence. A good narrative not only informs but also entertains the audience and strengthens the orator’s credibility. As suggested in the example of the celebrity and the attempted murder, the narrative can be constructed according to different temporal patterns. The orator Lysias, for example, excelled in constructing thrilling stories with a tight, linear timeframe and fast pace, which could dominate the speech and take over the role of the argumentation. Therefore, learning to create an interesting and persuasive temporal structure for the narrative is essential (though not by itself sufficient) when developing storytelling skills.

4

TEMPORALITY

97

The temporal structure of the narrative is entirely flexible, and it will be determined by the details of the case, the available time for delivery, and, most importantly, the composition, knowledge, state of mind and expectations of the audience. The narrative structure will often be linear, and under time pressure, the story should also be shortened without compromising the logical development of the events. If the story is well-known, the orator might also give a skeletal and favourable summary of what happened, then elaborate on individual details later during the argument. Another possible narrative strategy is to recount events in their entirety, leaving out a decisive detail and delaying its revelation until the end of the speech, where it has the greatest impact. The choice about the narrative’s temporal structure may remain open even up to the time of delivery as the elements of the rhetorical situation require constant changes in circumstances the orator could not foresee. As an illustration of how the temporal construction of the narrative can be determined by special circumstances, let us take as a fictional example a US governor, who travels around his or her state to try to persuade people in small-scale local meetings. The majority of listeners distrust the US federal government and the Covid-19 vaccination programme to receive a jab. A narrative of how the pandemic is evolving, supported by rational arguments about the need to trust official scientific advice and would most likely not work for people whose minds are already dominated by conspiracy narratives gathered from the internet and social media. In such a scenario, in the highly localised rhetorical scene of a townhouse meeting, constructing an entertaining narrative that bypasses the listeners’ suspicion could be one, and perhaps the only, way to overcome the force of the arguments and stories already in the audience’s mind. What would be the kind of story which works here? Considering that the audience already distrusts the orator as a figure of state authority, a factual story with direct connection to the coronavirus pandemic will most likely be seen and rejected by the listeners as a direct attempt to persuade. One possible way to counter the problem is to devise a story that is neither real nor directly connected with vaccination. For example, a parable with fictional characters, a modern version of stories we find in religious or ancient didactic literature, adapted to the beliefs and life situation of the audience, could surprise and sway the listeners to accept public health advice. The temporal structure of such a story should be uncluttered and linear, gradually developing to reach a common sense, uncontroversial conclusion advocating trust in reliable authority. The

98

G. TAHIN

fact that the story happens in a fictional time would be advantageous as it allows the listeners to consider pragmatic reasons for accepting expert opinion without comparing and contrasting these reasons with the temporally localised ‘arguments’ and stories of conspiracy theorists at present. I have previously used the classical Greek orator Lysias as an example of practical narrative construction and mentioned that storytelling often dominated his speeches (e.g. 12 Against Eratosthenes , 13 Against Agoratus ), in a sense taking over the role of the argument. Taking Lysias’ narrative technique as a point of reference, I will now consider the second main element of a speech’s internal temporal factors, the complete temporal structure of the speech. After a brief terminological explanation, I will use Lysias’ speech Against Agoratus to show what is meant by the idea. In simple terms, when the orator constructs the temporal structure of the speech, they consider first the relationship between the events discussed in every section of the speech and then arrange events in an order that is favourable to the case. A speech will appear persuasive if there is a clear temporal and logical connection between the events that make up the factual base of the case, and the temporal facts central to the argument are arranged to receive the greatest emphasis. Let us take a simple example, a case whose success depends on how effectively the orator presents an alibi for the defendant. The question for the orator is where to place a crucial piece of evidence to make it plausible and persuasive for the audience. One option is to state the alibi at several points throughout the speech, both separate from and embedded in the narrative. This strategy creates a structure in which all evidence appears to converge on a single temporal point, reinforcing its plausibility. Another possible option is to delay the introduction of the event until the end of the speech, where the argument, narrative and evidence presented beforehand lead to the conclusion with total logical momentum. The essence of the overall temporal construction is to create a clear framework for all relevant events, which appears most plausible to the audience from the point of view of common temporal thinking (e.g. causes precede effects, or an escalation of events lead naturally to a climax). In the following, I briefly describe the temporal structure of Lysias’ speech Against Agoratus and show how an arrangement of facts and

4

TEMPORALITY

99

events across the speech support the evidence of guilt.3 Lysias wrote the speech for an unnamed man prosecuting Agoratus for killing his cousin and brother-in-law Dionysodorus, an Athenian democratic leader, during the oligarchic rule of the Thirty, following Athens’s defeat by Sparta at the end of the Peloponnesian war in 405 BC. Lysias begins the speech with a broad historical panorama in the aftermath of the disastrous end of the Peloponnesian war and the beginning of the rule of the Thirty, led by Theramenes. Agoratus was an insignificant political actor. He was recruited as an informer to the Thirty, who were responsible for the death of many Athenian generals and patriotic citizens. He was prosecuted several years after the rule of the Thirty ended, and life in Athens returned to relative normality and peace. The broad temporal framework continuously narrows down to focus on Agoratus’ recruitment and activity as an informer, leading to the death of Dionysodorus, the dramatic climax. At this point, Lysias compares Agoratus’ actions with two other informers’ activities to show him up as the worst among the agents of the Thirty. A brief account of Agoratus’ victims is followed by a tabloid style description of Agoratus’s life before 405 BC, extended by the defamatory characterisation of his father and brothers. Lysias then finishes the speech with a brief account of how Agoratus tried to evade responsibility by switching sides just before the fall of the Thirty. The end of the argument deals with some legal technicalities of Agoratus’ arrest. It hammers home the idea that the time that elapsed since the alleged crimes does not weaken the obligation to prosecute the defendant. The final appeal to the religious duty of avenging the victims also has a powerful temporal implication. Lysias argues here that the passage of time does not weaken the defendant’s culpability and the audience’s moral responsibility to punish an informant who sent innocent citizens to death while serving an anti-democratic government. This brief account of Lysias’s speech provides insights into how to effectively construct the overall temporal framework of a speech with an extended range of events. The most obvious point is that events in and outside the speech’s narrative must stand in clear logical and temporal relationships, even if they do not form a progressive, linear order. Lysias, for example, placed the events of Agoratus’ and his relatives’ early life after the account of his actions as an informant. Nevertheless, this reversal 3 Todd, S. C., A Commentary on Lysias, Speeches 12–16 (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2020).

100

G. TAHIN

makes sense as the events in the section about Agoratus’ proof of a character were not temporally restricted to the murder case. It is also necessary to observe what could be called the economy of the temporal framework. However complicated the facts of the case are, the orator must be able to decide which events are essential to prove the conclusion and which can be left out without damaging the argument. Finally, it is helpful to think about the internal temporal elements of the case as part of an architectural design. At its best, the speech’s temporal structure presents a balanced and well-coordinated pattern of events to support its core proposition. At the same time, it gives a transparent and relevant account of everything that happened, is happening and will happen in the rhetorical situation.

CHAPTER 5

Strategic Construction

In previous sections, I repeatedly made the point that a fundamental feature of the heuristic approach is to view the preparation and delivery of the argument as a dynamic, open and not easily predictable procedure. The orator should develop an in-depth understanding of how the whole rhetorical process is being affected by contingent factors, whether external or internal to the argument. The overall strategy of the speech is successful if it controls the contingencies as they arise. Strategic considerations cover almost every aspect of speechmaking. Therefore the orator cannot escape constant choices about strategy. In the following section, I will focus primarily on strategic considerations about the structure of arguments. However, the student must not forget that strategic decisions also involve the delivery’s physical environment, the audience’s composition, the analysis of the case, the selection and arrangement of arguments and the choice of appropriate words, tone of voice and gestures. The following example will explain how strategy plays an essential but not necessarily prominent role. The occasion was a debate at Oxford University about the role of religion in public life. The event was hosted by an organisation that promotes discussions about the Christian faith’s role in modern societies and academic institutions. The two speakers were Christopher Hitchens, the well-known atheist and anti-theist thinker, writer and broadcaster, and John Haldane, Scottish philosopher, broadcaster and notable Catholic. The two speakers were each allocated a brief © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_5

101

102

G. TAHIN

time to give a speech about the theme of the event, then asked questions of each other and responded to questions from the audience. The speakers had powerful and idiosyncratic personal styles (Hitchens a ‘bruiser’ while Haldane a calm and measured intellect) and well-developed arguments to support their respective positions. The audience was highly educated and intellectual. The general atmosphere seemed to favour Hitchens, who had a direct and engaging style, armed with caustic wit and unshakeable belief in the superiority of science over religious beliefs. The question for any orator in this situation is how best they can counter such formidable opponents and convince the majority of the audience about their views. There are two relatively straightforward ways the orator may approach the rhetorical situation in this case, and the two sides in the debate represented these options relatively well. Hitchens’s strategy was simple and powerful. He spoke in everyday language, avoiding abstract and philosophical terms and arguments. He frequently appealed to the sciences for supporting evidence and brought up historical examples, which gave him much credibility and advantage in front of an academic audience with a heavily rational worldview. He made frontal attacks on religions and their supposed contributions to public life in much of his talk. He tried to show the uselessness of religious communities in public life by ridiculing their beliefs and showing them up as absurd in the light of reason. Although some of his attacks were, in technical terms, a variety of irrelevant and ad hominem arguments (and, for many in the audience, insulting), they showed him up as intellectually brave and credible. His opponent, John Haldane, used an entirely different approach. Restrained and reasonable, he realised that he would have an initial disadvantage in an academic environment because he was arguing in favour of religious faith and its value in public life in front of an audience where many are sceptical or hostile to religious ideas. His calm manners had a strategic value in counterbalancing his opponent’s more direct and down-to-earth language. He carefully avoided a direct response to his opponent’s attacks and ridicules. His language was precise and philosophical, the exact opposite of Hitchens’s, without an air of superiority or arrogance, which showed him, paradoxically, as the more reasonable of the two speakers. Another element of his strategy was seeking common ground instead of entering into a ‘wrestling competition’, which he knew he would have lost. Overall, both strategies had their respective strengths, and the audience would have probably been split over the outcome.

5

STRATEGIC CONSTRUCTION

103

Hitchens prevailed in terms of popular appeal, while in terms of the relevance and depth of argument, Haldane would have got the upper hand. The previous example demonstrated well that a speech is never delivered in a sterile environment with strictly objective standards of judgement. As a result, the orator is forced to adapt his argument to a number of factors in a deliberate way. The plan is not a final blueprint before the construction of the speech. It is a dynamic scheme where decisions must constantly be made to control many variables within the rhetorical situation. The strategy is never good or bad in an absolute sense. The speech has the objective of persuasion. If the strategy contributes to this objective, it is successful; otherwise, it fails. In heuristic rhetoric, strategic construction is the ‘control room’ principle of speechmaking. Here every aspect of the speech, from planning to delivery, converges. The word ‘strategy’ originally comes from Classical Greek and is derived from military language. A strat¯egos is a general, and strat¯egia is the office, command or plan of the general. The idea behind the word is relatively simple. Any element of an operation, whether military or rhetorical, should be coordinated in one place by one person. Their task is to obtain as much information as possible about the field of operation, possess the knowledge necessary to synthesise the operational information and arrange elements of the operation to achieve an objective, in our case, persuading the audience. To teach students develop a strategic view of the whole rhetorical situation is the principal purpose of heuristic rhetoric. Strategic construction manages the information provided by a comprehensive knowledge of the contingencies, aspects of probability, argument and temporality. The argument does not simply cover the logical structure of the speech, but all its parts, for example, the introduction and any narrative section. The phrase ‘strategic construction’ might seem superfluous in contrast with the single term ‘strategy’. There is nevertheless a strong reason behind the choice of the former term. Adding ‘construction’ to strategy emphasises that strategy is never simply a theoretical plan that the orator creates as a broad template in the speech. A strategy becomes meaningful only in constructing the whole speech and its execution during delivery. The word ‘strategy’ was not used in classical rhetoric as a technical term. Nevertheless, there were several forms of argument in the classical systems that could be classified as strategic. These forms or patterns of reasoning are widely used and, therefore, require serious consideration,

104

G. TAHIN

albeit with a proviso. In heuristic rhetoric, strategy is used differently, more comprehensively than in classical times. Areas of classical rhetoric commonly understood as strategic remain important, but they form only a part of what I call strategic construction in this book.

1

Strategic Constructions in Classical and Modern Rhetoric and Oratory

Classical rhetoric developed an elaborate classification for what types of arguments were available for the orator and how to arrange them. This system is thorough and helpful for learning basic and more complex forms of rhetorical arguments. However, the system lacks a strategic framework that shows how the orator can arrange individual types of arguments into an overall scheme. The fourth heuristic principle thus aims to make explicit the strategic perspective within the whole process of rhetorical performance. I will first outline the difference between traditional and strategic arrangements and then give examples of how the principle may be implemented. In classical Roman rhetoric, dispositio or the arrangement of material, takes place after the orator has obtained the facts of the case, identified the issue then established the arguments. The traditional order of the speech begins with the exordium (introduction), followed by the propositio (statement of the principal theme or case of law), the narratio (narrative) and then argumentatio (usually divided up as the confirmatio, proof of the case, and refutatio), finally the peroratio (the finishing part of the speech). This order was considered a ‘natural’ or ‘common-sense’ form of reasoning people usually adopt in everyday life. The ‘natural’ sequence might differ depending on whether it follows a chronological order of events or an order of arguments advancing from the weaker to the stronger. The more or less strict adherence to the ‘natural order’ of the speech in classical rhetoric suggests that the idea of the standard model agrees best with the general training and common-sense expectations of the audience. According to this assumption, the order of argument in life is such that people attempt to capture the listener’s mind first, then explain the facts, argue their side of the case and finally close the argument. Presumably, following this pattern guarantees that the orator’s reasoning will be familiar to the audience. Of course, the question is to what extent we may be certain that the standard ‘common-sense’ pattern, while certainly

5

STRATEGIC CONSTRUCTION

105

logical, will also lead to persuasion. To decide this question, it is worth looking at the practice, i.e. oratory. For example, the Roman orator, M. Tullius Cicero, has often been thought to have written speeches based on the standard order, but the neat arrangement of the parts of the speech was more the exception than the rule. He changed parts of the speech freely and flexibly. Sometimes he left out the narrative. One of the few speeches which display an almost perfect model of standard arrangement is his defence of T. Annius Milo against the charge of murdering his enemy, P. Clodius (which was not the version actually delivered), although this ‘perfect order’ is most likely to be deceptive.1 In this case, the seemingly strict adherence to the rules could mislead the audience into believing that the issue before the court is uncomplicated, demonstrated by how the arguments fit into the standard model of reasoning.2 The ‘natural’ order of speeches in classical rhetoric is normally contrasted with the ‘artificial’ order. ‘Natural’ in this case means that the orator changes the ‘textbook’ sequence due to the circumstances or to have a greater advantage. In reality, almost no classical or modern speeches give a textbook example of ‘natural’ arrangement. If orators had always been expected to keep the standard order of the speech, the arguments could have easily become predictable with the danger of the audience losing interest. Strategically, it is better to avoid an order of the speech which is less easily predictable for the audience and the opponents. An orator might want to surprise the audience or the opposite side with a revelation or a novel argument when no one sees it coming. Such an unexpected move can capture the audience’s attention and confuse the opposite side. Cicero, in the Second Book of his De Oratore, a dialogue on rhetorical theory and practice, reinforces the view that the ‘artificial order’ is more suited to the actual practice of oratory. 2.80–83 ‘Now I’m not saying that I disapprove of these rules, but I do say that they are obvious, exactly like

1 Wisse, J., ‘The Riddle of the Pro Milone: The Rhetoric of Rational Argument’, in J. G. F. Powell (ed.), Logos: Rational Argument in Classical Rhetoric (London, 2007) 35–68. 2 Two excellent studies (applicable to modern practice) on how Cicero manipulates parts of the speech are Classen, C. J., ‘Ciceros Kunst der Überredung’, in B. Grange and O. Reverdin (eds.), Éloquence et rhétorique chez Cicéron, Entretiens sur l’antiquité classique, Bd. 28 (Vandoeuvres-Genève, 1982) 149–192; Stroh, W., Taxis und Taktik: Die advokatische dispositionskunst in Ciceros Gerichtsreden (Stuttgart, 1975).

106

G. TAHIN

those four, five, or six parts, or even seven (since different people offer different schemes) into which they divide every speech. They tell us to use an introduction that will make our hearers well-disposed to us, receptive, and attentive; next, to set out the matter at hand in a narration, and to do so in such a way that this narration is plausible, clear, and brief; after this, to divide our case into parts, or at least to formulate our proposition; to prove our statements with arguments and justifications, and then to refute those of our opponents; at this point, some place the conclusion of the speech, its ending so to speak, while others tell us that before bringing our speech to an end, we should digress in order to impart distinction to our case or to amplify it, and then conclude and bring the speech to its end. I do not disapprove of even these rules; this is quite a neat classification. Yet, as was only to be expected with people who are out of touch with practical reality, it does show a lack of experience. After all, the rules they have chosen to assign to prologues and narrations are principles that ought to be observed throughout a speech. Personally, for example, I can make a juror well-disposed to me more easily when I am in the course of my speech than when all of it is still to come; I can make him receptive, not when I promise that I am going to provide proofs, but when I am actually giving my arguments and explanations; and surely we can secure the jurors’ attention by frequently arousing their interest throughout our entire presentation, not by an announcement at the beginning. And again, when they tell us that the narration should be plausible, clear, and brief, this is good advice; but their notion that these qualities are more appropriate to the narration than to the whole of the speech is, I think, an enormous mistake.….’.3 Interestingly, classical handbooks do not provide much information about the circumstances in which it might be advisable to change the natural order or how to change it. The main reasons why the orator would want to change, for example, the order of the narrative and the argumentation, is usefulness and advantage. A common example of such an artificial order is the so-called ordo Homericus (Homeric order). In this case, a weak argument is sandwiched between two stronger ones, or weak arguments are embedded in a narrative that gives a more favourable image

3 Cicero, On the Ideal Orator, translated by James M. May and J. Wisse (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001).

5

STRATEGIC CONSTRUCTION

107

of events, for example, in Demosthenes’ On the Crown.4 Although not explicitly mentioned in classical handbooks, an ‘artificial’ order of events may be created by leaving out or transposing important facts, as well as speeding up or slowing down the narrative speed of events. Another example of ignoring the traditional boundaries of arrangement is mentioned in the quote from Cicero’s De Oratore. It might be the case that the opponent distorts the facts to such an extent that there is a danger that the real issue for the orator might be side-lined. In this instance, the relevant proposition must be argued and revisited several times during the speech to bring it back into the consciousness of the judge or the audience. A further interesting example of the ‘artifical’ arrangement is the so-called ‘ring composition’, mastered by Dinarchus, one of the lesserknown of the canonical Attic orators. In this arrangement, the orator establishes a primary level of argument, which occurs in every part of the speech.5 Each of these primary-level sections is then further subdivided to form a secondary level, with the result that each self-contained primary-level section forms a ring composition. The characteristic element of such a ring composition is a story embedded within the primary-level narrative (although this theory is not universally accepted). However, the fact that the orator can apply an ‘artificial’ order suggests that audience expectations about how a speech should look are not rigid, and they can be moulded carefully. A good example of the ‘artificial order’ is provided by another of Cicero’s most notable speeches, the Pro Cluentio. In the speech, Cicero is defending a man called Aulus Cluentius Habitus Minor, from the Italian town of Larinum, against the charge of attempting to poison his stepfather, Statius Abbius Oppianicus. The speech is remarkable in that it barely argues about the accusation properly. Only a few sections at the end deal with the charges of poisoning, which is an insignificant amount in comparison with the rest of the speech. The longest part of the speech is a narrative of events, used as evidence in an earlier case, where the defendant secured (most likely through bribery) the conviction of his stepfather for an alleged attempt to poison him. The narrative deals with a bewildering series of purported crimes committed by Oppianicus. These past events add nothing of substance to

4 Usher, S., Greek Oratory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). 5 Worthington, I., C. Cooper, and E. M. Harris, Dinarchus , Hyperides and Lycurgus

(Austin: University of Texas Press, 2001).

108

G. TAHIN

the present case, yet they are very entertaining. The narrative distracts the audience’s attention from the present case, and depicts a set of depraved characters (e.g. the defendant’s mother Sassia), who are unreliable and guilty of the crimes they are accusing the defendant with. The confusing arrangement is understandable from a strategic viewpoint, and it was most likely deliberate. Towards the end of the speech, the listener or reader would hardly remember individual stories or arguments. However, they would most likely come away with a highly negative impression of the accuser and his family. The topoi/loci or ‘the seats of argument’ are also essential strategic elements in classical rhetoric. The common topics of arguments developed into a highly elaborate and detailed system of arguments in classical rhetoric and they continue to play a significant role in rhetorical education, including heuristic reasoning. The common topics are best understood as outlines or patterns of arguments, which can be ‘filled’ with specific details and deployed in a speech as necessary. While each topic has a specific form, they do not describe the precise structure of how a specific argument will look in all its details. It is the job of the orator to ‘fill in’ and devise the argument with the help of a chosen topic. Therefore, the orator must have a detailed knowledge of the topics to decide if a particular one is suitable for the argument and how best to flesh it out. The topics make up a significant part of the argumentatio, but they may be used in every part of the speech. There are different ways to categorise the topics and what to identify as a topic. I will give only a very brief and arbitrary overview. It is crucial to note that the knowledge of topics in themselves will not provide the strategy of the speech. They are best understood as basic building blocks available for any type of strategic plan the orator adopts for his argument. We find one of the most elaborate accounts of the topics in Quintilian’s Institutio Oratoria Book Five, where he distinguishes ten main categories of topics, which cover every possible angle of the case. Topics can be related to a person (mostly elements of biography, such as ancestry, age, education, actions), the matter (res ) at hand (abstract categories, such as whole/part, what kind, name, definition, origin, degree of completeness—to what extent the issue evolved or developed, similarity, etc.). They include physical and psychological causes and effects, the place and the time of events or actions, the mode or manner of the action, the ability to carry out an action, comparison, similarity to other events or things, the explanation of the issue, fictitious case relevant to the original and, finally, circumstances.

5

STRATEGIC CONSTRUCTION

109

Quintilian’s list is exhausting to read and remember (especially, if one adds the subheadings), but it does give potentially the most comprehensive account of what types of arguments work in practical reasoning. In modern rhetoric, most of these topics appear within a concise, simplified system, with a notable addition. P. J. Corbett’s Classical Rhetoric for the Modern Student regards types of testimony as a separate group of topics which derive their material from external sources. Topics within this group include statements from a person of authority or scientific facts, testimonial (opinion of well-known or powerful figures, customer ratings, opinion polls, etc.), statistics, legal documents, precedents or examples and proverbial wisdom. Most of these topics of authority appeared in classical rhetoric, but they were treated as proof in support of the case, rather than possible forms of argument. Whichever way one may classify them, types of testimony play a dominant, sometimes exclusive, role in much of modern rhetoric. It is not hard to find speeches where the overall strategy relies almost exclusively on an appeal to facts, scientific data or sources of law. Often, the problem in these cases is the assumption that the audience regards the same forms of testimony as authoritative as the orator. As a rule, almost any type of testimony can be disputed (whether it is rational to do so or not is irrelevant in this instance) and people do disagree on basic facts. Therefore, although over-reliance on facts, evidence, data and law is understandable and justified in many cases, the orator should study the rhetorical situation carefully and judge whether facts would do the work of persuasion. Even the most rational or educated communities are affected by emotions, pressures and other external influences and a highly skilled orator must adjust their strategies accordingly. Some rhetorical writers add a category called special topics to the general patterns of argument. In the strict sense, these are not outlines of argument, but they offer a powerful set of themes and values as the basis of an argumentative strategy. Within the special topics, we find the concept of the good, the evil, the unworthy, advantage and its opposite, justice and injustice, virtue and vice. Some orators argue that their propositions are good or advantageous for the country or its citizens. In a paradoxical way, a common line of argument appeals to the necessity to make ‘tough decisions’ in a crisis, where the reasoning covertly relies on the virtues of prudence, bravery and sacrifice. Three short speeches about the climate change crisis will be good examples to demonstrate how topics, especially the testimony of the

110

G. TAHIN

sciences, help drive the strategy of the argument. In all three cases, the topic was the climate change crisis, the objective a call for urgent action and the basic topics (or proof of the argument) testimony of scientific facts and the values of common good, evil and hope. It is particularly interesting to see how each speaker handles the difficult persuasive task of keeping a delicate balance between describing the destruction of nature, while remaining positive and urging the case for united action. The first speech was delivered by Antonio Guterres, the UN Secretary General, at the 2019 Climate Action Summit. It is safe to say that the speech was the most rhetorically complex of the three. In the first part, it sets out the facts about the crisis, painting an apocalyptic vision of the destruction caused by natural disasters in recent times. Underlying this section is a personification of nature in response to the evil of climate change. In the second, longer part, the Secretary General used what might be considered as a topic of contraries, setting hope against despair. The second part relies heavily on the testimony of scientific facts and, at the same time, pushes into the foreground the topics of bravery in the face of difficult decisions. The language of Guterres’s speech is beguilingly simple, but its complex structure supports effectively the strategy that balances carefully between hope and despair, urgency and delay of action. The author of the speech should take credit for the excellent work. The next speech is delivered by the American actor and ocean activist Jason Momoa at a UN meeting for island nations. The whole speech is concise and its strategy simple, depicting an apocalyptic image of destruction and appealing to common topics such as the suffering of the innocent as a result of irresponsible profit-making by corporations and unity. Momoa does not explicitly appeal to the testimony of science, although his examples of destruction clearly rely on scientific data. The speaker wants to make a strong impact but suffers from an over-reliance on his celebrity status and a kind of schizophrenia in terms of his intended audience. While he speaks to a relatively small audience in agreement with him, he addresses countries and corporations which will most likely not be swayed by his celebrity status. The third example of a climate change speech is the least rhetorically structured but probably the most effective and controversial. Greta Thunberg delivered her short speech at the UN’s climate action summit. She had a unique position as a young student, after attracting worldwide interest during a solitary climate strike in her native Sweden. The speech’s strength comes from the speaker’s authority as a representative of a young

5

STRATEGIC CONSTRUCTION

111

generation and the direct emotional language that reflected the anger of people watching helplessly the climate crisis. Thunberg appeals very forcefully to the testimony and authority of science to reveal the destruction by climate change and provide the means to reverse to reduce CO2 emissions. Her speech is a strange combination of emotionally aggressive rhetoric and strong faith in the persuasive authority of scientific data. She made a strong impact; however, threatening world leaders into action is a high-risk strategy. Her speech could easily be interpreted as an arrogant outburst of a young person, failing to push for the political unity needed for effective action. The discussion of the rhetorical topics leads to the last strategical feature of classical rhetoric, the teaching of issues or staseis . In the most elementary sense, the stasis helps formulate the speech’s strategy by defining exactly the nature of the case. It was devised originally for judicial cases, and its use has been extended beyond forensic oratory, for example, into the political and celebratory oratory, academic writing or investigative journalism. The basic system contains four issues, each with a set of questions to aid the orator in examining the case. The first stasis defines the case as one depending on a question of fact (‘Did he do it?’). Within this issue the orator examines external facts and a person’s character to prove whether the act was, in fact, done as it was alleged. The three available lines of inquiry in a conjectural issue of fact are the will (‘Did he want/had reason to do it?’), ability and possibility (‘Was he able to do it?’) and the fact (‘Did he actually do it?’—any signs, circumstances or clues which prove the fact). The second issue relates to the question of defining the case, that is, finding an appropriate term, category or classification. Labelling a particular issue may not seem a difficult task, but it requires a sharp insight and considerable skill to choose a designation which correctly grasps the essence of the issue at hand and provides a solid foundation for any argumentative strategy. A well-known dilemma is designating a specific act of killing as terrorism, resistance fight or insurrection. The speech requires different and contradictory strategies of argument based on the orator’s description of the case. The third issue concerns the type, quality or nature of the case the orator is discussing. Assuming the orator found the right label to describe the case, the next step is to make a truthful and rhetorically effective description of the issue. Within this issue, the orator must consider whether an act was good, right, responsible, just, legal or the opposite,

112

G. TAHIN

how severe the case and how it may fit into a broad framework of morality, legality and social norm. The definition and description of the case go hand in hand, and the same strategic considerations apply to both. In the previous case of killing, someone might take the line of argument of conceding the designation of the act as terrorism from a legal point of view but would consider it right within the context of armed resistance against occupation or moral duty in a fight for religious freedom. The fourth and final issue relates to whether the present legal or political context or situation is the right one to discuss or decide the case. Many cases of child sexual abuse within the Catholic Church are relevant examples of this issue. Church authorities were responsible for handling cases of abuse within the framework of ecclesiastical law and institutions to preserve the reputation of the Church when the nature and severity of the crimes demanded that the perpetrators be handed over to secular authorities. The issue of ‘transferring’ does not simply deal with the appropriate place or context. It also considers whether the case is judged by the right person, before the right audience or at the right time.

2

Strategic Construction in Heuristic Rhetoric

In the previous section, I provided a brief survey of those elements of classical rhetoric which have a strategic function. The sceptical reader might object here that the principle of heuristic construction does not seem to offer any new insight beyond recycling the classical tools of generating arguments from schemes such as the staseis, the loci and model rhetorical exercises, such as the progymnasmata. Therefore, the question is whether classical (and modern) rhetoric provides a complete set of tools to produce arguments or whether something is missing that heuristic rhetoric could add. A comparison of the theory and practice of rhetoric suggests something was missing from the curriculum, or perhaps bettery, was left for the student to discover unaided. The missing element is the method to develop a strategic mindset and make the most appropriate choices of argument, language and delivery choices in the widest variety of complex judicial or political scenarios. So how did the student reach an advanced level of oratory, where they not simply applied rules mechanically but were able to master every detail of the case itself and the surrounding rhetorical scenario and creatively apply sophisticated patterns of argument to win?

5

STRATEGIC CONSTRUCTION

113

A possible answer was to study actual speeches from canonical Greek and Roman orators and ‘imitate’ their style and reasoning in their own practice. The study of other subjects, philosophy, for example, was also viewed as beneficial to developing skills of argument. At the end of the training, in theory, the classical orator was ready to apply all his relevant knowledge about argument types and parts of speech to his cases. However, this ideal outcome was far from certain, as the general system of rhetoric taught at schools was designed from the viewpoint of teachability and not practical, strategic consideration. Classical rhetoric works well in more predictable circumstances, such as a law court setting or oratory in political assemblies (although in both these cases there was still an element of unpredictability). As a result, it will work less effectively in contemporary scenarios with a higher degree of unpredictability, time pressure and complexity. The lack of explicit and coordinated focus on strategic planning in classical and modern approaches, combined with insufficient awareness of features such as contingency, therefore, gave rise to the concept of strategic construction. In heuristic rhetoric, a strategic view is a framework which correlates every element of the rhetorical environment and the speech to secure the assent of the audience. The basic template of a rhetorical strategy includes all contingent factors (e.g. the composition and views of the audience, the physical environment, potential uncertainties during delivery), the (un)available evidence and the scheme of arguments suitable for the specific case, linguistic considerations and the objective(s) of the speech. The synopsis of all the factors in the rhetorical situation gives a useful visual and mental picture of the task facing the orator. The success of the strategy depends on several factors: how comprehensively the orator grasped the details of the case, what logical and thematic connections they can establish between the rhetorical situation, evidence and the patterns of argument, and whether they could synchronise all internal and external temporal sequences, how flexible the plan remains and whether the objectives have been drawn up clearly and realistically. Ultimately, the objectives drive the construction of the strategy, but it may not necessarily be clear at all times what the best objectives of persuasion are. In many cases, the orator has to persuade or dissuade an audience about a proposition. Sometimes, however, such as in a political rally, the orator speaks to an audience that essentially agrees with them so that the objective might be different. In such cases, instead of classic

114

G. TAHIN

persuasion, the audience needs encouragement or enthusing, a laugh, an alleviation of fears, or simply entertainment. In some instances, when immediate persuasion is impossible or unnecessary, the orator could just as well be filling up time or creating doubt and confusion in preparation for a more distant opportunity. When the orator carefully considers all the elements of the rhetorical situation and the case at hand, the right strategy suggests itself almost naturally. A brief example will highlight some key elements of the strategic construction I have just explained. Julius Caesar, the Roman commander, delivered a speech before the battle of Pharsalus in 48 B.C., fought between his army and the troops of Cn. Pompey, the Roman general and statesman, and his arch-rival. A version of the speech was preserved in Caesar’s historical writing about the Roman civil war, De Bello Civili. Prior to the battle, Caesar and his army were constantly moving to lure Pompey and his troops, who were superior in number, had better provisions and were in a more advantageous position, into battle. Caesar’s speech was short. ‘We must put off the march for a moment and think about battle, as we have always demanded. We are prepared to fight. Not easily shall we get the chance again. After the speech, he led his troops at once into battle and defeated his opponent’. The strategy of the short speech is remarkable once we understand the context. Caesar’s army was physically exhausted and emotionally demoralised from constant manoeuvring against a stronger army. In these circumstances, once an unexpected opportunity arose, the army commander had to give a rousing speech on the spot without any preparation. The speech could not be long; it must have captured the soldiers’ mood perfectly and had to be able to motivate them to fight. The conditions were pressing, so Caesar used one of the best strategic devices to change the soldiers’ mood: humour. He made fun of their terrible circumstances and showed a quick way out of it. The deadpan humour of the speech becomes obvious in Nordling’s adaptation: ‘I regret to inform you, boys, that today’s inspiring series of marches shall have to be cancelled in favor of a battle I see brewing that Pompey wants to fight with us!’.6 The striking effect of Caesar’s speech becomes even more apparent when we compare it with the lengthier, pompous pre-battle speech of 6 Nordling, John G., ‘Caesar’s Pre-Battle Speech at Pharsalus (B.C. 3.85.4): Ridiculum Acri Fortius … Secat Res’, The Classical Journal Vol. 101, No. 2 (Dec.–Jan., 2005/2006), 183–189.

5

STRATEGIC CONSTRUCTION

115

Pompey. The speech embodies most characteristics of heuristic rhetoric well in a nutshell, especially the idea of adapting the argument to contingent circumstances. One of Caesar’s chief leadership skills was to spot weaknesses in his opponent’s position. In this case, the enemy advanced further from their fortified position and turned this into an opportunity for attack. The speech is a direct and immediate response to the unexpected strategic opportunity. It is also a textbook example of making a strategy out of a humorous contrast between two temporal frameworks, the long and dreary military march and a sudden chance for attack. The brevity of the speech is notable, especially if we compare it to Pompey’s arrogant speech. Caesar’s words are like a shot of adrenalin into the veins of the tired soldiers. They clearly worked. The central feature of any strategic construction is manipulation. Since the word has acquired a highly negative sense in contemporary media, I should clarify what I mean by ‘manipulate’. In the context of heuristic rhetoric, ‘manipulation’ is not a negative or amoral term (as the original meaning, ‘skilful handling of objects’, suggests). When the orator manipulates the speech, it is not to exert indirect influence, deception, or devious control. The orator can be deceptive, devious and controlling, but such behaviour results from consciously breaking ethical and social norms (above all, adherence to the truth) and is not the product of rhetorical training. Manipulation in heuristic rhetoric is a strategic device. It involves uncovering the complexity of the rhetorical situation within the matrix of contingency, probability and temporality and then forming an adequate response to the challenges facing it. Manipulating every aspect of the speech requires developing several skills: learning to handle all relevant information related to the case, finding the correct language for presentation, creating a powerful set of arguments which addresses all relevant issues of the case and then arranging these effectively for a forceful delivery to achieve the persuasive objective of the speech. At the same time, manipulating the elements and circumstances of the rhetorical situation should happen in an effortlessly natural manner, which does not exclude the possible scenario of, for example, admitting that the orator is nervous or has fear and doubts. One way to understand the skill of manipulation is the example of the Hungarian magician and actor, Rodolfo, who used to announce to his audience before every trick, ‘Watch my hands because I am cheating!’.

116

G. TAHIN

Manipulation in the neutral sense I outlined develops the strategic construction of the speech at multiple levels, which the orator must learn to control, all at the same time. The orator fashions creatively whatever happens between the beginning and the end of the speech within the constraints of the rhetorical situation. They could change the length of the whole speech or eliminate any of its parts according to what they want to emphasise, for example, storytelling, the argument drawn from the evidence or entertaining anecdotes. In the modern world, there is always pressure to deliver short speeches with a quick message enriched with humour or some outrageous statement. In a complex situation, the pressure of delivering a message within a short timeframe requires a degree of manipulation in even the simplest forms of oratory. Extending the length of the speech beyond what is considered normal requires much confidence and authority and involves considerable manipulation of the argument or the evidential material. Although it is a risky move, the orator may go against the expectations about how long the speech should last. An interesting recent example of such a move is the Chinese president’s speech, which he delivered during the 19th National Congress of the Chinese Communist Party on the 18th of October 2017.7 The address lasted 203 minutes, much longer than the audience most likely anticipated it. A speech of such length tests the attention and physical needs of the audience heavily, especially as the listeners are obliged to appear to listen intently. The force of extending the speech can be even better understood from the speaker’s point of view. While the audience had to make mental and physical effort to listen, the speaker could impress his superiority over the audience by delivering a speech calmly and effortlessly without giving away any hints as to when it might end, with no regard for the immediate (and pressing) needs of the audience. Why did the president decide to speak for so long? A close look at the setting, the themes and the speech’s ideas will likely suggest an answer. The Chinese president spoke at the most significant political event in China. He knew that his words were carefully followed by millions in the country and abroad searching for clues about any new policy or political move. The event’s importance was enhanced by several other factors, specifically the general political environment and the president’s attempt 7 http://www.xinhuanet.com/english/download/Xi_Jinping’s_report_at_19th_CPC_ National_Congress.pdf.

5

STRATEGIC CONSTRUCTION

117

to bring about fundamental and tightly controlled changes in domestic matters and expand the country’s influence on the international stage. China is a socially, economically and ethnically highly diverse country, which at the same time prizes stability, authority and traditional values for social cohesion. The country is held under tight control by a oneparty rule within the ideological framework of ‘Socialism with Chinese characteristic’. The practical application of the political framework is not cast in stone, and the president, especially an activist such as Xi, can shape government action considerably. In this case, his speech was the tool to signal the president’s intention to maintain effective control. The comprehensive and authoritative vision of the country’s future outlined in extraordinary length was designed to reinforce the leader’s political power and nous to drive through changes. In Xi’s case, the problem for the speechwriters was what material they should use to fill the speech and create a unity out of a melange of facts and ideas. The answer is far from obvious. Speeches at a communist party conference are usually staid and constrained, with little room for individual expression or creative ideas. The orators should uphold the values of a communist society and system of government in the interest of stability and continuity. The Chinese president’s objective was to demonstrate his power and ability to control a vast society, manage a complex series of events and solve a complex set of problems without any sense of radical change. The encyclopaedic array of themes fulfils this objective. He spoke about Marxism, housing, independence in Hong Kong, soil erosion, issues in the South China Sea, rural poverty, the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation, cyber-security, corruption, military modernisation, global governance and global warming. Besides addressing critical issues, Xi went beyond the usual thematic framework, reflecting on moral values, party loyalty and the need to protect the environment. The overall impression Xi gave of himself was not so much that of a party leader, but more of a wise teacher and strong governor of his people. Xi’s speech also exemplifies other strategic aspects of the rhetorical situation that the orator must learn to manipulate. These include, for example, the immediate physical circumstances of the delivery and the audience’s disposition. A speech is not just words written on paper. The orator appears in a physical space, which they manipulate with their body, face, gestures, movement and voice. The physical space is often given.

118

G. TAHIN

The orator cannot alter it, but there is always a means to create a persona and an atmosphere within that space. In Xi’s case, the place of delivery was a large hall; he could control the decoration, the spatial arrangement of seating and the speaker’s position. Radical proposals can sound less controversial in a space that looks familiar or aesthetically appealing. The speaker’s style is also decisive in moulding the audience’s disposition. Returning to the case I have just discussed, it is worth comparing the rhetorical style of the current Chinese and former US presidents, Xi Jinping and Donald Trump. The style of the former president is simple, direct and formal, studiously avoiding any excessive form of rhetoric. The US president cultivates the persona of an entertainment media actor who aims to dominate the rhetorical space with his brash language and style. However, the comparison is meaningless since both developed the public persona that attracts the most approval in their home culture. Naturally, the question is how the orator adapts to a rhetorical environment outside their familiar space, where different forms of thinking and cultural norms prevail. The most effective form of control over the audience is the ability to maintain the listeners’ interest. This skill is particularly significant in complex cases where there is a high risk of losing the audience’s attention. There are many techniques to help avoid loss of attention, but these need to be used carefully. Common techniques include: announcing a clear and concise plan of the speech, frequently marking each section to keep an impression of progress, breaking up more extended arguments with anecdotes and shorter stories, simplifying issues and language as much as that is possible, maintaining rhythm through a variety of themes and topics and keeping (or at least giving the impression of keeping) the speech short. Whichever technique the orator uses, it must appear genuine and free-flowing without giving any impression of affectation. It is also important to remember that capturing the attention and maintaining the audience’s interest is not in itself a strategy, an end in itself. It is a tool to support whichever argumentative strategy the orator chooses. Any strategic move which goes against what the audience might expect can have a powerful impact on the audience’s attention and belief system (as I have already discussed this question earlier in Chapter 2, Sect. 4). Strategically and otherwise, saying or doing anything against what the audience expects is a risky move, and the orator must be confident that they can ‘pull it off’. In almost any form of public speaking, let us say, at conferences and school or political assemblies, the listeners will have

5

STRATEGIC CONSTRUCTION

119

strong views about what they expect, and they want every speaker to conform to these expectations. An orator could decide to challenge expectations to create puzzlement, gain attention and create an opportunity for persuasion, which did not exist previously. Two areas of life where challenging expectations could be (and are) used most commonly are business presentations and didactic messages. However, even in these areas, this tool should not be overused. Permanent revolution and challenges could cause apathy. So far, I have mentioned forms of manipulating external factors of the rhetorical situation, such as overall timing, rhetorical space and audience’s attention. Equally and possibly more important are the strategic considerations about the speech itself. Strategic manipulation may involve the overall temporal framework of the speech, the sequence of events in the narrative, the evidential basis and the order and pattern of the arguments. Every element of the speech can be moved, left out, shortened or extended if the overall objective requires it. The difference between an average untrained public speaker and an orator with advanced rhetorical skills is the ability to manipulate any internal and external feature of rhetorical argument consciously, in line with a strategic scheme. Developing strategic thinking in rhetoric requires at least two skills: (a) mastering a complex set of information related to the case at a level where anything can be moved about or changed with ease (b) the ability to prepare, deliver, constantly assess and make alterations to the speech, its structure, argument, language and delivery. The question is, how the orator reaches such a level. Strategies and argument patterns appear too vague concepts to be helpful in practice. I will give a fictitious example of how strategic construction could be understood in practice. Imagine a country that organises a trade conference to convince its trade partners about the benefits of sizeable military trade deals or infrastructure investments. At the conference, one of the representatives delivers the closing speech to make a final appeal. The objective, in this case, is clear, persuade the partners to agree on a trade deal. The question is what kind of rhetorical strategy would be most effective. The most straightforward approach is to summarise all benefits hoping that the audience will be convinced that it is in their best interest to accept the business offer. While straightforward, this strategy may be too broad to appeal directly to individual trade partners, and it may even be rejected as hard-selling.

120

G. TAHIN

A more effective strategy would use an indirect, circumstantial form of reasoning. Instead of arguing how much the trade partner(s) would benefit from the trade deal, it would look into the circumstances of individual countries or groups of nations with similar characteristics. Then they present a seemingly plausible future scenario with an increasing number of threats and uncertainties where the only reasonable form of achieving security would be to accept the trade deal. The crux of this strategy is to make it individually plausible for audience members and then exclude any solutions other than the one favourable for the speaker. A possible way to bridge this crux is to create a free-flowing narrative interspersed with arguments and data, easy to follow but too complex to argue against it. Heuristic rhetoric provides argument models to develop the skills for the strategic construction of arguments. These models, called heuremes, will be outlined in the next chapter.

CHAPTER 6

‘Heuremes’—Patterns of Persuasive Argument

Previous chapters discussed the theoretical concepts underpinning heuristic rhetoric. Understanding these abstract notions helps the orator develop a detailed insight into all the aspects of the case, the rhetorical situation and the speech. The better the orator understands the complexity of the task, the speech and the audience’s mind, the more chance he will have to win his case. An example from earlier sections might be instructive. A professional mountain leader or guide must be proficient in interpreting the smallest contour detail of a map, applying it to the ground and moving or climbing safely in hazardous terrain. They need to have a solid knowledge of many aspects of the natural environment, including geology, weather, flora and fauna, acquire leadership skills and values and have substantial medical knowledge relevant to remote outdoor adventures. The more in-depth their ‘theoretical’ knowledge is, the better they will be able to help others enjoy beautiful but potentially dangerous places. Once the orator has acquired the necessary body of theoretical knowledge to master a variety of situations, they will focus on specific schemes of argument which help them devise a strategic plan and persuade people. In this chapter, I will introduce six models of heuristic arguments, which help understand the strategic construction of complex arguments, called ‘heuremes’. These arguments show how an experienced orator may design

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_6

121

122

G. TAHIN

an argumentative strategy in highly intricate rhetorical scenarios. The purpose of these ‘heuremes’ is to develop advanced skills of rhetorical reasoning. They show patterns of argument that could have been used successfully in an actual case. They are not ‘bulletproof’ and do not provide magic answers to how one can win a case or persuade an audience. If anything, they should be understood as an aid to developing a critical and sophisticated sense of reasoning. The idea of heuristic strategies came originally from decision-making theory. D. Kahneman and A. Tversky identified several mental shortcuts people use to arrive at a decision.1 These shortcuts often violate the rules of logic or probability theory; nevertheless, they are used in everyday situations when someone must make an instant decision quickly or based on insufficient information. Cognitive heuristics often work, but they also fail. Heuristic strategies are different from ‘fast and frugal’ heuristics in that they usually involve extensive and complex arguments. The emphasis is not so much on decision-making but on persuading the audience. What is essential in the rhetorical strategies is creating an argument that the audience recognises and accepts as similar to their own ways of thinking. To be able to imitate and influence the thinking of the audience, the orator should understand a wide range of factors which shape the mind of the audience, for example, cultural, religious or political values and historical experience. If the members of the audience do not share the same language, especially in international negotiations, this situation presents a further difficulty that the orator must consider. It may sound paradoxical, but in themselves, ‘heuremes’ do not work; they are meaningless. It is best to understand them as if they were rough outlines of a building. The outline of arguments needs specific details to be added to make it meaningful. Each of the six groups of heuremes has a principle characteristic, which appears in different varieties. The student must first understand the main characteristic of each group together with its varieties, study examples and finally, attempt to construct an argument with their help. Right from the beginning, it is essential to remember that heuremes are structurally flexible. In practice, ‘flexibility’ means that one ‘heureme’ can cover the whole strategy of the speech, but two or 1 Kahneman, D., and Tversky, A., ‘Judgment Under Uncertainty: Heuristics and Biases’, Science 185 (1974) 1124–1131; Kahneman, D., Slovic, P., and Tversky, A., Judgement Under Uncertainty: Heuristics and Biases (Cambridge, 1982); Kahneman, D., Thinking, Fast and Slow (London: Allen Lane, 2011).

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

123

three heuremes could also be combined for the same purpose. Heuremes also evolve through practice, and new types could be devised or identified. The following list of heuremes should not be regarded as closed, only as an overview of how patterns of persuasive arguments work. Similarly to classical oratory, where the best speakers used argumentative devices from rhetorical theory without any constraint, so too in the case of heuremes. The relationship between classical and heuristic approaches becomes most obvious if the student realises that argument patterns such as the topoi/loci/places or arguments directed at someone’s character or life can be combined with heuremes. In the following, I will explain each heureme in detail.

1

‘Initial Adjustment’

The first major group of heuremes is based on the concept of ‘initial adjustment’. In each case, the strategy is centred an initial proposition, which may or may not be relevant for the main issue under discussion. There is some connection between the initial proposition and the main issue. However, from a strict argumentative point of view, that proposition is not directly relevant to the case’s outcome, and it may be confused with the real issue. There is an obvious similarity between the ‘initial adjustment’ strategy and the ‘red herring’ logical fallacy, but the two are not the same and should not be confused. ‘Red herring’ is an invalid argument from a logical point of view, whether used intentionally or unintentionally. The fallacy distracts from the central question by introducing an irrelevant point into the argument. The ‘initial adjustment’ heureme is different. It is an extended rhetorical strategy that may have legitimate or illegitimate uses, depending on the relationship between the initial proposition and the case and whether the orator intentionally uses the strategy to mislead the audience. The key feature of the strategy is the initial proposition, which dominates the rest of the argument. An example from classical rhetoric demonstrates a legitimate use of this heureme. In one of his earliest speeches, the orator Cicero defended a young man from the town of Ameria in Italia, Sex. Roscius Amerinus, against the charges of murdering his father, a wealthy landowner.2

2 Cicero, Defence Speeches, translated by D. H. Berry, Oxford World Classics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008).

124

G. TAHIN

The audience’s expectation was most likely to hear a defence speech focused on the accused person’s innocence. Instead, Cicero opened his speech with a direct attack on a powerful freedman of the then ruling dictator of Rome, Cornelius Sulla, called L. Cornelius Chrysogonus. Cicero claimed boldly at the beginning of the speech that Chrysogonus bought the estates of the elder Roscius worth 6 million sesterces for two thousand sesterces. The statement is rather vague in itself, but it immediately changes the context of the argument by suggesting that the murder was connected to a powerful figure of Sulla’s regime, who would benefit from a guilty sentence. The case is a show trial to legitimise the illegal purchase of the property. In the rest of the speech, Cicero devotes considerable time to uncovering the murky details of the elder Roscius’ murder, implicating the accusers. The actual proof of the defendant’s innocence mainly consists of painting an idealised character of a simple but virtuous country gentleman, who by nature could not have committed such an awful crime. It is impossible to know the truth about how the elder Roscius was killed. Cicero could have been right or not. Whatever the truth is, his strategy of turning the defence into an attack with his ‘initial revelation’ was a daring move which even risked his personal safety. The ‘initial adjustment’ strategy has different varieties. One type, just described, operates on the basis of what we might call a ‘revelation’. The orator realises that the case is problematic either because a key piece of evidence is missing, which would completely change the framework of the case, or because the case is discussed in a way which distorts the real issues. As an example, let us imagine a series of international negotiations about a complex humanitarian crisis, such as the Syrian refugee situation in 2018–2020. The speaker’s task is to persuade the parties in the conflict to restart negotiations. Earlier attempts failed. Following the ‘initial adjustment’ strategy the speaker could introduce previously unknown or not widely known pieces of evidence about the impact of fighting or the possibility of further escalation. They might also attempt a risky strategy of arguing not directly for a ceasefire but a related set of issues. For example, the orator could argue in support of ensuring the safety of the civilian population or the preservation of industrial objects, cultural treasures, or agricultural land, all of which tacitly assume or eventually lead to a ceasefire. The key issue in every variety of the strategy is to find a strong enough initial proposition to grip the attention of the audience and plausible enough to affect the framework of the debate, ultimately leading to the relevant and justified conclusion.

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

2

125

‘Representativeness’

The second group of heuristic strategies is called ‘representativeness’. In simple terms, the strategy of representativeness works on the basis of an actual or perceived relationship between an individual and a group. The assumption behind representativeness is that identifying someone as a member of a group is supposed to reveal important characteristics about the individual, which would have remained hidden if the relationship had not been identified. The representativeness heureme aims to prove (or make plausible) a proposition on the basis that an individual shares the characteristics of a particular set of people. For example, someone may argue that an investment manager is likely to have been involved in corrupt financial practices because that individual displays the characteristics of the imaginary group of ‘corrupt bankers’. In a positive sense, a lawyer can argue in defence of someone who leads a political, religious or charitable organisation that they could not have committed a particular act because only people of the highest integrity fulfil such roles. The description of the heuristic device I have just given is very schematic, and it is prone to fallacy. There are many examples of incorruptible bankers and individuals who committed crimes while carrying out high office in a political, religious or charitable organisation. ‘Representativeness’ is thus often identified as a form of primitive simplification or method for creating stereotypes to be used in personal, ad hominem attacks. The heureme indeed appears as such in most instances. However, the fact that ‘representativeness’ is frequently used fallaciously in attacking (or defending) someone does not mean that it cannot have legitimate application. Someone’s membership of a group could reveal or highlight information relevant for the argument, for example, by suggesting a motive. In terms of popularity, ‘representativeness’ is probably one of the most recognisable forms of rhetorical strategy. Other argumentative strategies often have complex, less obvious structures, but ‘representativeness’ is familiar to many people. Such familiarity could be the result of the contemporary ‘cult of the personality’, or (in a less derogatory phrase), the general interest in well-known individuals in different types of media. While basic forms of the ‘representativeness heureme’ may appear simple, they can still display an intricate structure. The strategy builds on fundamental human instincts: admiration for notable people (‘the technology CEO’), fear of those who do not conform to specific cultural or political

126

G. TAHIN

norms (‘the liberals’, ‘the religious fundamentalists’) or the need to create ideal figures out of real-life characters (‘Mother Theresas’). The heureme also relies heavily on beliefs about common human ‘characteristics’, discounting the possibility that a personality can display incongruous, inconsistent and contradictory character traits. Recognising representativeness heuristics can be difficult in cases where the speaker does not explicitly say, only alludes to which group of people an individual represents. The allusion might be made by stating the individual’s profession, social status, ethnic origin or religious affiliations without drawing attention to the fact that such detail might raise prejudice. The more such allusions are hidden in the argument, the more sophisticated the representativeness strategy becomes. In extreme forms, ‘representativeness’ can dominate the argument of the whole speech or arguments repeated over the period, for example in political campaigns. Political arguments that appeal to anti-establishment sentiments represent such extended use of the ‘representativeness’ strategy, both in attacking opponents and promoting a candidate. Explaining someone’s motives or actions by a supposed membership of a group is rhetorically effective because it appeals to thinking strategies which guide everyday judgements about common human characteristics when time or ability for sophisticated analysis is missing. Withholding judgement about another person is not a usual or easy practice. The success of the ‘representativeness’ strategy depends on how credibly the orator draws up the comparison between the individual and the group. An effective and legitimate form of the strategy must be built on genuine and relatively well-known characteristics of the individual, which he or she exhibited over a long period of time. The group of which the individual is supposed to be a member must also be well-defined and realistic, recognisable by the audience. For instance, a campaigner wants to accuse a wealthy entrepreneur of contributing to the destruction of the natural environment through economic investment. Suppose the strategy is based on identifying the individual as a member of a group of businessmen solely motivated by profit. In that case, they must have strong evidence based on factual data about investments and other supportive information to prove that such a relationship between the group and the individual holds. In an ideal scenario, representativeness reveals important information about someone’s personality, which is relevant to the argument and contributes in a meaningful way to persuading the audience. Let us take a

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

127

case in which a lawyer is trying to defend someone who works in management in government administration against the charge of corruption. The main purpose of the defence counsel is to show that the client’s character in the past had not shown any signs of corruptibility. As proof, the defence presents not simply the defendant’s past actions to prove his credibility and integrity but also depicts him as an example of honest and scrupulously law-abiding civil servants who unselfishly serve the common good. The opponents could treat the defence as naive and idealistic, expressing deep scepticism. However, they cannot deny that there are several examples of incorruptible civil servants, and it is justified to treat them as a group who share a set of moral virtues and work for the common good. The argumentative task involves showing that the client’s actions and motivation make him a good candidate for the group’s membership. If successful, the argument will not simply show that the defendant is not corrupt but that his actions form a coherent set in which actions are motivated by moral principles. However, it must be said that even if the argument succeeds, it should not be treated as conclusive proof but as an auxiliary argument that helps the audience better understand the defendant and judge the likelihood of them committing a crime. The ‘representativeness’ heureme can be very effective if used within reason, especially in attacking one’s opponents. The strategy relies inevitably on discussing someone’s personality, and as such, it is very easy to turn the argument into an unwarranted, underhand ad hominem attack with destructive consequences. As in other types of arguments, it is paramount that the orator maintains a high standard of decency and basic respect for others, even if they condemn someone’s actions. There are plenty of examples of wrongful and excessive uses of ‘representativeness’ in invectives. One sophisticated example of such use is the Hungarian government’s repeated attacks on the Hungarian-born American financier, George Soros in 2018–2020. The Hungarian government, led by Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, repeatedly accused the financier of urging the European Union publicly and in secret high-level talks to change its immigration policy. Another accusation claimed that Soros wanted the EU to allow the settlement of a million migrants each year and give them thousands of euros in support. The allegations were patently false and rebutted by both Soros and the EU on several occasions. Nevertheless, the Hungarian government continued with its campaign against the banker. The accusations

128

G. TAHIN

themselves and the campaign built around the character of Soros were vicious and masterful at the same time. It created an easily recognisable enemy figure, a member of an invisible international liberal elite with the supposedly immense financial power to achieve political objectives. They allegedly intended to weaken nation states through immigration and spreading pernicious ideas which were directly antithetical to the views of the Hungarian people. The most serious aspect of the campaign was its underlying appeal to anti-Semitism and conspiracy theories, both verbally and visually, which the Hungarian government denied vigorously and cunningly, yet left unchanged. The so-called Soros campaign illustrates another problematic aspect of ‘representativeness’. How is it possible to counter a sophisticated form of ‘representativeness heureme’, such as the image of George Soros in the Hungarian government’s campaign, if used to attack someone directly? A common reaction to personal attacks of such kind is striking back swiftly. However, a better, strategic response would be to consider if it is necessary to make a response at all. In the case I just mentioned, the Hungarian government planned its campaign against Soros as a propaganda instrument for its own political base within the country, so it had a limited sphere of influence and even more limited opportunity to respond with a reasoned argument before an independent audience. The campaign did not directly affect George Soros’ interests, so it was prudent not to become too embroiled in an elaborate defence against the accusations. Most independent international institutions, such as the European Union, were well aware of the campaign’s purpose and limited domestic relevance and did not need to worry about its broader consequences. There are several possible ways to respond directly to instances of the ‘representativeness’ heureme. As I explained in the previous paragraph, whichever approach we take, the first consideration should always be strategic, taking into account all heuristic elements of the case, especially contingencies and the strength of the opponent’s arguments. Ultimately, no direct response guarantees success, even if it is carefully planned and presented. One possible counter-strategy is stressing the absurdity of the argument, which does not merit a substantial rebuttal, only a sarcastic response. However, a sarcastic, humorous reply should be used with great care, as the opponents or the audience may easily misunderstand or misinterpret it as an expression of contempt, in which case, sarcasm would cause more harm than good. This strategy may be more successful with

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

129

an educated audience who understands the campaign’s background and motives. A modified version of the previous approach hypothetically accepts the premises and the conclusions of the opponent’s argument, turning it around and bringing the argument to an absurd conclusion. George Soros could have brought out the argument’s absurd conclusions. If he had the power to influence the decisions of the European Union, by the same token, he also had the power to influence the American president, the Congress, the Senate, international financial institutions, the United Nations, and just about any other country. As a result, he must have been the most powerful person on the planet with the power to control the affairs of the Hungarian state. The final, most reasoned, measured and diplomatic approach would be to go through the accusations individually and refute them with facts. While this approach is the most open and honest way of responding to an attack against one’s person, it is almost certainly the most ineffective. Again, the question is what exactly the orator wants to achieve and in what ways. If they primarily want to project a credible persona, while the success of his argument is of secondary importance, then considerations of objectivity should prevail. This emphasis on credibility is undoubtedly preferable in a case where it is clear that the orator has no real chance of success in a conflict against the opponent. Long-term considerations may also recommend that it is better to lose one argument (or arguments over a certain period of time), but not become entangled in an argument where the strategy is unfairly based on someone’s character.

3

‘Thematic Replacement’

We have now arrived at the third group of heuremes, called ‘thematic replacement’. This strategy is similar to the strategies based on initial adjustment as it is based on a relationship between the main argument and an auxiliary argument. In the case of ‘thematic replacement’ an auxiliary argument takes over the role of the principal argument of the speech, which either completely disappears or its position is reduced in the order of importance. The argument that replaces the main one might be introduced at the beginning of the speech or may appear later. Introducing the auxiliary argument later makes it appear an integral part of the original argument, so its purposes become disguised. The ‘thematic replacement’ heureme appears fallacious when described in this way. To use a picture

130

G. TAHIN

from the natural world, the secondary argument behaves like the chicks of the Common European Cuckoo, which push out either the eggs or the young of the host bird. In classical oratory, ‘thematic replacement’ was used occasionally with full force, and there are several entertaining and sophisticated examples, such as Cicero’s speech in defence of Marcus C. Rufus.3 The speech is the last in a series where three prosecution and three defence speeches were delivered. The background case was a highly complex one. The prosecution charged the defendant Caelius with multiple counts of violence and being an accomplice in the murder of the ambassador Dio from the Egyptian city of Alexandria. The prosecution speeches not only dealt with the charges but also attacked the young Caelius’ character, behaviour and immorality. Cicero, fully confident in the defence’s success, delivered a witty, light-hearted speech, a large section of which focused on Caelius’ former lover, Clodia, and her brother Clodius, one of the instigators behind the case who was also involved in two of the charges. Cicero’s strategy was largely built on the claim that the trial is an act of revenge against the young and successful politician based on trumped-up charges. In paragraph 31, after dismissing the rest of the charges, Cicero moves on to the two charges related to Clodia. Caelius allegedly attempted to steal gold from his former lover and murder her with poison. Cicero first exclaims with fake indignation (referring to Clodia and Caelius’ former relationship): ‘Here I detect a bitter hatred, following upon a cruel rupture’. He then immediately adds in a serious tone: ‘In this trial, members of the jury, everything has to do with Clodia, a woman who is not only of noble birth, but also notorious’. These claims introduce the lengthy digression on Caelius’s private life and Cicero’s elaborate attack on Clodia, labelling her ‘not simply a prostitute, but a lewd and lascivious prostitute’. Cicero is clear why he needs to replace the discussion of charges based on objective evidence with apparently irrelevant tabloid style material on two people’s private lives and morals. As he put it, ‘… if this woman is eliminated from the case, the prosecution are left with neither charges nor resources with which to attack Marcus Caelius’. The orator’s confidence in almost entirely replacing the core defence argument with a light, entertaining narrative 3 Cicero, Defence Speeches, translated by D. H. Berry, Oxford World Classics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008) 122–161.

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

131

on young people’s personal lives instils almost unconsciously the idea into the audience that the case does not merit more than superficial consideration. While the strategy of ‘thematic replacement’, like any other, may be used deceptively, its use is justified in cases where there is a danger that the argument does not deal with the real issues. Let us take an imaginary case, in which an orator has to argue about a political issue, for example introducing measures to mitigate carbon emissions. The orator believes that the political issue does not represent the underlying problems, which are predominantly social. Given the rhetorical situation, however, she has no choice but to focus on the political brief she was given. However, she believes that leaving out the underlying problems will misrepresent her case and compromise her chances of winning the argument. As a result, she introduces halfway through the speech an auxiliary argument, which deals with poverty. In the end, the theme of poverty becomes the sole issue she discusses. In response to her speech, critics accuse her of sidelining the real issue, but her speech wins overall approval, especially with the audience outside the immediate rhetorical situation. There are several questions about the orator’s strategy in this case, which will help clarify the use of the ‘thematic replacement’ heureme. The main question about thematic replacement is which argument we want to replace with which one. As I pointed out, the replacement can be entirely justified if the orator believes that the original argument is misleading, irrelevant or does not fully represent the case. It is also possible to imagine a scenario in which the opposite side deliberately distorted the original case, so the ‘replacement’ strategy consists of returning to the real issue. As in the cases of Cicero and the imaginary orator, introducing any form of replacement requires courage and confidence, not simply to justify the move but also to judge how the audience would respond to hearing something different from what they expected. Another relevant and related question about applying the strategy is timing. In both cases I mentioned, the orators introduced the new theme later in the speech once they had presented their primary argument. In this way, they ensured that the transition from the original theme to the new one appeared natural and the justification clear. The third consideration about the strategy concerns the question how the relationship between the original and replacement argument develops in the speech. The strategy of replacement does not have to dominate a speech permanently. In the imaginary case, the orator could have made a

132

G. TAHIN

better case if she had rounded off the speech about climate change mitigation with a conclusion taking into account the issue of poverty and how improving the lives of destitute people is essential in the fight against climate change. Overall, the strategy’s success, in this case, depends on whether the audience accepts that replacing the original argument on climate change with a new one is justified. The orator must also persuade the listeners that there is a logical link between the two arguments, and the second gives a better account of what the case is genuinely about.

4

‘Contrastive Probabilities’

The next group of argumentative strategies is called ‘constrastive probabilities’. The name of the strategy refers to arguments which are ‘probable’. The reader might remember that the word ‘probability’ was used earlier in its original, rather loose sense as an argument which is likely, reasonable, credible, plausible and acceptable. The basic outline of the strategy is straightforward, and the simple form can then be varied in several ways. Essentially, the strategy is based on the idea that, in some instances, advancing a single line of argument does not carry much weight. To make a case more persuasive, the orator could involve actual or possible counterarguments set side by side with the original so that the argument favoured by the orator appears the stronger one. The strategy is particularly effective in cases where there is a conflict between clearly definable positions (or the orator can devise good counterarguments). In deceptive applications of the strategy, the orator could deliberately create two opposing arguments, neither of which represents the case genuinely; instead, the false alternatives distort the number of available options. This argument has a complex structure, so it is only recommended if the orator is confident that they can use the contrastive structure effectively and carry it through the whole speech. One of the earliest examples of this strategy comes from early Greek oratory. The Tetralogies of Antiphon are a collection of model speeches in imaginary cases, with two speeches from the prosecution and two from the defendant. In the first Tetralogy, the defendant is accused of murdering his enemy and his slave at night on the street, with no witnesses present. The slave died later than his master. Before he died, he identified the defendant as the murderer. In the first speech, the prosecution relied on arguments based on probabilities, as well as on the testimony of the slave. The prosecutor presents four possible

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

133

explanations for who could have carried out the murders. Alternative possibilities include a common criminal committing a robbery, a drunken man, someone who started a quarrel with the murdered man, or accidental killing. The prosecutor dismisses all these possibilities and suggests that the most likely perpetrator was the defendant. In fact, the slave’s testimony (which under Greek law, was only admissible under torture) corroborated the prosecution’s claim. The defendant responds with a similar argument, a simplified version of the contrastive probabilities. He provides alternative explanations for some of the probabilities the prosecution rejected in the previous speech. The defendant claims, for example, that robbery was still a possibility, even if the murdered man had all the valuables with him. Perhaps the robber ran away for fear of being discovered by passers-by. The murdered man could also have been killed for witnessing a crime. The slave’s testimony can also be challenged on several grounds. It could, for example, be doubted that his state of mind was calm enough to produce reliable testimony, or the relatives of the murdered man might have compelled him to incriminate the defendant. This short analysis of the first two speeches of Antiphon’s First Tetralogy shows that both the prosecutor and the defendant used the same contrastive strategy in their proof. The prosecutor tried to eliminate all possible and likely counterarguments by the defence to create the sense that only the defendant could have killed the murdered man and his slave. The defendant’s strategy aimed to show that he could counter each of the prosecution’s arguments based on probability with equally alternative solid explanations. His purpose in his first defence speech seems to have been to create confusion and raise doubts about the strength of the prosecution’s argument. In the absence of other evidence, the defendant had a further advantage which he used masterfully. Towards the end of his second defence speech, he revealed that he was at home during the murder and his evidence can be attested by his slaves. Since the prosecution had no further opportunity to speak, it is safe to say that the defence strategy built on the ‘contrastive probabilities’ heureme, used in conjunction with the delayed revelation of the direct evidence could most likely have resulted in the defendant’s acquittal. Antiphon’s Tetralogy provided an uncomplicated model of the strategy. I will now suggest a modern example to illustrate the versatility and potential effectiveness of the argument pattern. Let us assume that the orator is given the task of delivering a speech to a mixed audience of

134

G. TAHIN

decision-makers and ordinary people in a very tense situation during the 2020 Covid-19 virus pandemic. He argues that strict measures, such as complete lockdown, should continue in order to avoid a second wave of infections despite the slowly improving situation. The atmosphere is strained. On one side, there is the danger that the infection rate will increase again if the restrictions are lifted too early. On the other side is the urgent demand to reopen the economy and allow unemployed people to restart work. To add more complications, some people in the audience are sceptical about the dangers the virus is posing, encouraged by politicians who urge the public to defy the lockdown. In such an emotional situation, with the audience strongly divided, some vocally call for an immediate end to the lockdown, while others want more evidence that the infections are decreasing permanently. In this complex rhetorical situation, the chances of persuading hostile members of the audience that the lockdown should continue are infinitesimally low. What can the orator do? One possible route is to attempt to persuade the listeners with facts and reasoned argument, put in stark contrast with the demand of those who want to reopen the economy as early as possible. The dangers of this route are clear. Part of the audience is sceptical about any persuasive attempt which is based on facts, and they would resent an orator who does not show an appreciation of their position. They may not fully understand the scientific principles behind the facts and possibly believe that the facts are manipulated or distorted by a political ideology they reject. Even worse, they could feel patronised by an orator who appeals to scientific facts and principles in their argument. For these reasons, an attempt to persuade as large a part of the audience as possible with an argument based predominantly on scientific data would probably not be highly effective. This statement, of course, does not imply that the orator should give up on arguing based on scientific facts in cases like this. Objectiveness is fundamental for being truthful and earning the trust of the audience. I want, however, to point out that in hostile situations such as the one described above, it is more advantageous for the orator to arrange (in this case, it is better to say, disperse) scientific facts in between other, non-factual, arguments unobtrusively. One way to achieve this is using the contrastive probabilities strategy. Let us assume that an argument based solely on compelling scientific evidence, which advises extending the lockdown, fails to convince a large part of the audience. What can be done? The debate is framed

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

135

in a way that there are two diametrically opposed positions. One argument suggests that the lockdown should continue; otherwise, the health emergency will worsen. The other says that the lockdown should be lifted because the situation keeps improving, and the economic consequences will deteriorate by the day. The difficulty in both cases is future uncertainty. What is certain is the health and economic crisis at the present. Therefore, the orator should, in the first place, focus on a description of the present situation in a way which acknowledges the real economic and financial damage to individual people and the health crisis. This line of argument will help ease tensions and create an atmosphere in which a large part of the audience does not reject the arguments outright. The next step, the crux of the strategy, is bringing the two arguments closer together and arriving at a conclusion acceptable to a majority of the audience. To reach this aim, the orator needs to draw up two lines of argument which appear contrasting, but not so much that they look irreconcilable. He should also appear to provide further space to the argument against their views, as it emphasises the need to end the lockdown early. This move seems counter-intuitive and paradoxical, but it has a reason. If done carefully, the orator will show empathy and understanding, overcome the instinctive rejection of hostile members of the audience and project himself as a non-partisan speaker, who is worthy of trust. Keeping this strategy in mind, the orator should start with the argument representing the opposite side’s views. The orator could stress the true extent of the economic damage and the financial hardship caused by the lockdown and the reasonable expectations to restart manufacturing and business operations. Taking a longer view of how events might unfold (without making explicit appeals to epidemiological models), the orator should then outline the possible dangers of reopening the economy too quickly. They should emphasise the medical (which hostile members of the audience would most likely not care much about) and the economic damages associated with a second major outbreak. The presentation of the opposite argument from a sympathetic angle should then be followed up by the other argument, one to which the orator is sympathetic. Drawing up this argument requires particular care to avoid the impression of bias in the eyes of the audience. In particular, the orator should be mindful of how he uses data from the medical sciences, bearing in mind that some audience members will be deliberately sceptical of hard facts. The orator could perhaps describe the grave situation in a way which does not only emphasise the likely health risks of the

136

G. TAHIN

pandemic in the event of a premature decision to open the economy. At the same time, they should give equal, or perhaps even more, weight to the disastrous economic consequences of a second outbreak, supported by several well-placed and sufficiently vivid examples. The point of the whole strategy is to present two seemingly contrastive alternatives in a way which gradually erodes the differences between the two. A conclusion could emerge naturally from the two opposing arguments, which offers itself as a reasonable compromise.

5

‘Parallel Probabilities’

I will now move on to the next heuristic strategy, a relative of the previous one. This new strategy is called the ‘parallel probabilities’ heureme. As the name suggests, this scheme is made up of two or more lines of argument, which all support the likelihood or plausibility of the conclusion. While ‘contrasting probabilities’ worked on the basic assumption that the direct conflict of two arguments demonstrates the strength of one or the other (or leads to a compromise), the ‘parallel probabilities’ strategy rests on the combined strength of parallel lines of argument. The strategy itself has two structural varieties. In one case, the arguments appear to be unrelated, and their relationship and composite strength become clear only as they converge into the conclusion. The second type is more straightforward. In this case, we take a single argument and break it into distinct but related lines, which gradually develop into a conclusion. This brief explanation appears rather vague, and it also gives a bland impression of the strategy. I will provide three examples to show that, in practice, the strategy is easily applicable in a variety of contexts. Its clear structure also works effectively in persuasion. The first example demonstrates the type of ‘parallel probabilities’, in which two seemingly distinct arguments are combined at the end of the speech to increase the likelihood of the conclusion. The argument concerns a group of fishermen charged with smuggling drugs by boat (the story I use here follows to a large extent the actual story of the ‘Freshwater Five’, but my argument is fictional). When police seized the boat, no drugs were found on it, but the police linked (one could argue, somewhat tenuously) the boat and its crew to the coincidental discovery of a large drugs haul at about the same time, not far from the harbour where the boat was moored. In the absence of ‘hard’ evidence to prove that the boat was transporting the drugs, the prosecutor could devise

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

137

two lines of argument. She could discuss the lives of each crew member to find personal details (e.g. possible existential pressures due to financial difficulty, drinking, gambling, etc.). Individual circumstances may be very different but make it likely that the crew embarked on criminal activities. She could then develop a separate line of argument which deals with details of the police raid and subsequent discovery to implicate the fishermen. Finally, she would need to establish a connection between the two arguments to reach the conclusion that the fishermen were guilty of the crime of drug smuggling. It is worth noticing that the proof of guilt is largely circumstantial in the absence of conclusive evidence. In such an inconclusive case, the ‘parallel probabilities’ strategy provides a framework to weave together distinct individual lines of argument. Let us now imagine as our second example a rather complicated criminal case between large companies, which goes back several years and involves multiple interweaving relationships between individuals and business entities. Explaining the case in full detail is, in itself, a long and laborious task. The orator could easily alienate a less than a fully committed and interested audience, even before he reaches the stage where he can present the argument. In such cases, the orator will find the ‘parallel probabilities’ heureme a useful tool to manage the argument. The strategy allows him to break up a complex case into manageable parts and deal with issues thematically as a group instead of becoming entangled (and, potentially, lost) in addressing each point individually. Another excellent example of how ‘parallel probabilities’ can be applied in defending someone can be found in classical oratory. M. Tullius Cicero’s speech in defence of L. Valerius Flaccus is, in many senses, a typical Roman court speech in a case that many people today may find familiar. As the former governor of the province of Asia, Flaccus was accused of maladministration, a charge which covered extortion and corruption. The defendant faced a dire situation. Criminal evidence from a large number of witnesses against him was overwhelming. These included testimonies from delegations sent by four cities across the province, Jews and individual Roman citizens from the same province. Cicero’s task was daunting. The combined strength of direct evidence from witnesses made Flaccus’ guilt highly likely and almost inevitable. The sheer amount of damning evidence made it physically impossible to respond to each accusation in detail. Therefore, Cicero had to find a strategy that allowed him to discredit the witnesses as a group and find a means to present Flaccus as an individual worthy of acquittal.

138

G. TAHIN

Cicero’s strategy is simple. He creates three lines of argument, each devised to reduce the likelihood of groups of arguments by the prosecutor. The first is best called preparatory, as it does not directly deal with the refutation of the charges. Cicero decides instead to follow a traditional line of reasoning, which deals with Flaccus’ early military and political career, especially his tenure as a praetor in Rome, when he assisted Cicero in suppressing the Catilinarian conspiracy. While this information is clearly irrelevant from a modern legal and argumentative point of view, it was a conventional element in classical oratory and acceptable for the audience. The main function of this line of argument was to present the defendant’s personality as a loyal and dependable citizen of the Roman state and then use this proposition as positive evidence for the improbability of the charges. The conventional summary of Flaccus’ career contains the assumption that the defendant’s achievements during his early career resulted from his talents, moral character, and loyalty to the state, which makes the present charges seem absurd. The preparatory argument is followed up by a wholesale attack on the witnesses from various cities in the province of Asia. The purpose of this section was to prepare a common ground from which to attack the substantial charges against Flaccus. The attack was based on the idea that barbarians (i.e. non-Italian inhabitants of the Roman republic) do not uphold the same standards of truthfulness in a Roman court as native citizens. Cicero also relies on national stereotypes (however repugnant the argument might be judged today) aimed at undermining the reliability of the witnesses as a group. The final argument follows a neat linear pattern, beginning with the most serious charge, the embezzlement of funds intended for equipping a fleet against pirates operating around the province’s coast. Cicero deals with this charge very extensively. He argues at considerable length for the necessity of equipping the fleet while devoting very little space to the question why the governor could not give a factual account of how the money ordered to be paid by the cities was spent. The final part of the speech is dedicated to refuting the charges brought by individual cities. The function of Cicero’s first and second main arguments becomes obvious here. Instead of a detailed, evidence-based refutation, Cicero attacks the representatives of individual cities in the city and Jews from the province of Palestine as liars, who banded together to bring down an honest Roman citizen and threaten the stability of the state. While Cicero’s arguments involve language and techniques which are

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

139

unacceptable by modern standards, his method of constructing multiple lines of defence derived from the idea of unreliable provincial witnesses demonstrates the utility of the ‘parallel probabilities’ heureme.

6

‘Simplification’

I have now arrived at the final major group of heuremes, called ‘simplification’. The name again sounds bland and uninformative, but the apparent vagueness should not mislead anyone. The strategy of simplification is probably the most frequently used and powerful of the strategies I have mentioned so far. What does ‘simplification’ mean in a rhetorical scenario? When an orator argues a case, they inevitably select details and arguments that give the best chance to persuade the audience. In this sense, every orator simplifies. Reducing the length and complexity of the argument is also necessary when a rhetorical case is made up of too many details. ‘Simplification’ might also be needed when the delivery of the speech would push physical limits, such as time and the audience’s attention (the speech of the Chinese president I discussed earlier is an exception, for reasons I explained above). The concept of ‘simplification’ as a heuristic scheme is different from the cases I have just described. As a strategy, ‘simplification’ is a method applied to the arrangement of the whole argument, to the choice of facts, the selection of evidence, the narrative and the representation of the case. The strategy determines the shape and every detail of the case, not just individual sections. In this instance, the persuasive force of the speech is derived not only from the strength of the individual arguments or pieces of evidence but also from offering a simplified narrative of an intricate series of events or an explanation of complex details. Someone could argue at this point that the description of ‘simplification’ makes it similar to techniques of ‘framing’ in modern rhetorical and communication theory. In a sense, this is true. ‘Frames’ in persuasive reasoning refer to a presentation or description of a case which suggests that facts should be interpreted in one particular way. Techniques of framing could achieve this in multiple ways, such as selecting particular details while ignoring others, laying emphasis on a certain aspect of the case or ignoring details that do not support one’s version. The strategy of ‘simplification’ does the same in many respects, but there is a major difference.

140

G. TAHIN

‘Framing’ is a process whose purpose is to ‘package’ the content of the speech in line with an overall interpretative framework. For example, a series of street demonstrations following the murder of an innocent black person can be ‘framed’ as a violent and chaotic protest movement by extremists who reject the rule of law and public order. Alternatively, it may be explained as human rights activism against racism and in support of upholding the principle of equality before the law. The direct purpose of ‘simplification’ is not to provide a broad theoretical or political framework in which facts and events can be interpreted in a particular way. However, it may be used as a tool for building a frame. ‘Simplification’ is, therefore, neutral in terms of framing. The point of the strategy is to create patterns of reasoning where a simplified arrangement of the facts and arguments helps the audience to understand a complex case as much as possible and accept the conclusion drawn by the orator. A critic could potentially argue that the strategy encourages the orator to rely on half-truths and manipulation while trivialising or oversimplifying issues which are inherently complex. This criticism can be justified. Nevertheless, if an argument suffers from the distortion of truth and oversimplification, then the fault lies with the orator and not the strategy. In the following, I will offer two examples of the heureme. The first example will describe a case where ‘simplification’ distorts the facts to support a fallacious conclusion. In contrast, the second example demonstrates how the heuristic technique could be used as part of valid reasoning. Arguments that rely on simplification based on an ‘economical’ explanation can often be found in conspiracy theories. A most recent example is the theory of ‘the stolen election’, referring to the outcome of the 2020 US Presidential Elections. Donald Trump, the former US president, and his supporters claim that the election was fraudulently won by Joe Biden, despite all the evidence and formal inquiries pointing out the falsity of the theory. Another commonly proliferated theory relates to the origins and alleged purpose of the SARS-CoV-2. These suggest that the virus was ‘engineered’ as a ‘bioweapon’ or to achieve ‘population control’ by various groups or organisations. Conspiracy theories appear in various disguises in speeches and propagandistic writings. Their rhetorical popularity is partly due to the fact that they are uncomplicated and easy to believe. At the same time, it is not easy to counter the theories in a practical and meaningful way in a rhetorical setting. They also provide material in arguments that would never become persuasive due to the complexity or lack of conclusive evidence.

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

141

‘Simplification’ has powerful valid applications, too, as the following example will demonstrate. The short speech, ‘Address at the Woman’s Rights Convention in Akron, Ohio’, was delivered ex tempore on 29 May 1851 by the former slave, anti-slavery and women’s rights campaigner Sojourner Truth.4 The most authentic version of the speech was preserved by Marcus Robinson, who attended the convention, transcribed the speech and published it in the abolitionist newspaper Anti-Slavery Bugle. A quote from the first part of the speech offers a good example of how ‘simplification’ might work. ‘I want to say a few words about this matter. I am a woman’s rights. I have as much muscle as any man, and can do as much work as any man. I have plowed and reaped and husked and chopped and mowed, and can any man do more than that? I have heard much about the sexes being equal. I can carry as much as any man, and can eat as much too, if I can get it. I am as strong as any man that is now. As for intellect, all I can say is, if a woman have a pint, and a man a quart—why can’t she have her little pint full? You need not be afraid to give us our rights for fear we will take too much,—for we can’t take more than our pint’ll hold’. In this case, ‘simplification’ works at several levels, language, argument and delivery. In order to understand the persuasive force of the speech, it is important to note two things about the circumstances of delivery. Firstly, it was a political event supporting women’s rights in Akron, Ohio, led by the reformer, anti-slavery and universal suffrage campaigner, Frances Dana Barker Gage. Speakers at the event would most likely have been white people with some formal education, an understanding of the language and concept of human rights and the ability to speak in front of a large crowd. Sojourner Truth did not belong to this category, and some reports suggest that her address was not universally welcomed. Secondly, the speech was delivered without any preparation, requiring much courage and strong skills of ex tempore delivery, which all but the most experienced orators would not have had. The language of the speech bears the hallmarks of the spoken word. The construction of the sentences is uncomplicated, and there are no elaborate forms of syntax, such as multiple subordination. The effect of this linguistic simplicity is the projection of powerful authenticity and truth, which a highly educated orator may have never been able to 4 Sojourner Truth, Ain’t I A Woman? Penguin Great Ideas (London: Penguin, 2020) 1–5.

142

G. TAHIN

achieve. The plain language also effectively supports biblical imagery and arguments for equal rights. The speech is devoid of any complex or elaborate legal reasoning. It builds on two main reasons for women’s rights, the equal ability of the two sexes and the significant role women played in the life of Jesus. Neither of these reasons, in themselves, would legally be sufficient to support the demand for equal rights, but political, religious and common-sense arguments might provide the foundations on which legal arguments could be based, which is the principal function of ‘simplification’ in this case. Finally, the delivery circumstances also show the signs of ‘simplification’. According to Marcus Robinson, who recorded the event ‘she came forward to the platform and addressing the President said with great simplicity: “May I say a few words?”’. With its sincerity and pathos, this moment, coupled with the fact that it happened without any previous planning, outdoors in front of a church, must have surprised the audience and gripped everyone’s attention.

7

Summary of ‘Heuremes’

The table summarises the key features of the heuristic strategies. It is intended as a synopsis to help students see the relationship between the different groups of strategies. Groups of Heuremes

Definition

Initial adjustment

Most or all of the argument is adjusted to an initial probable assumption, which may result in a biased and distorted proof A marginal probable proposition is arbitrarily introduced at the beginning as the key issue, and it later determines the whole argument A probable proposition is introduced as the starting point of an argument, the probability of which neither depends on, nor influences the probability of the principal argument, but may take its place, if the latter fails The probability of a proposition about a person is argued on the basis that the person is in some way representative of group B The argument on the major probable proposition of the case gives way to a seemingly relevant, but actually misleading auxiliary probability The major probable proposition is deliberately changed to an irrelevant one at the very beginning of the speech, usually without giving any notice

Representativeness

Thematic replacement

(continued)

6

‘HEUREMES’—PATTERNS OF PERSUASIVE ARGUMENT

143

(continued) Groups of Heuremes

Definition

Contrastive probabilities

Matching each opposing probable argument with one another, equally plausible one to arrive at the opposite conclusion Matching up and weighing arguments based on probability against each other, ones which are drawn from inadmissible or false evidence A deliberately distorted presentation of possible probabilities in order to judge the case by only two opposing alternatives Parallel arguments made up of several correlating, but not necessarily relevant probable propositions that together lead to the final conclusion Breaking up a unified probable argument of the opposing side into separate sub-arguments, which arrangement greatly decreases the probability of the overall conclusion The probability of the conclusion depends not on the inductive force of the evidence and the arguments based on it, but on the consistency and plausibility of the narrative of the evidence presented An argument based on probability that seems persuasive not because of its inductive strength, but because it offers a simple explanation of a number of other probable propositions

Parallel probabilities

Simplification

PART II

Practice

CHAPTER 7

Classical Oratory

In the first part of the book, I outlined the principles that make up the conceptual framework of heuristic rhetoric. I will now move on to the second part of the book, the analysis of examples from ancient and modern oratory. The purpose of the analyses is to show how heuristic principles help explain argumentative strategies in selected speeches and how the principles and rhetorical strategies together can guide the orator to produce persuasive rhetoric. The case studies in Chapters 7 and 8 demonstrate the elements of heuristic rhetoric in real-life oratory. They may also serve as templates for those who write speeches in high-profile cases at an advanced level, for example, in international business or diplomacy. In the first chapter, I will discuss two outstanding pieces from classical oratory, Antiphon’s speech ‘On the murder of Herodes’ and M. Tullius Cicero’s ‘In Defence of T. Annius Milo’ against the charge of murdering his enemy, P. Clodius Pulcher. The choice of these two speeches may seem almost entirely arbitrary considering the number and quality of works that survived; however, both offer unique learning opportunities about successful persuasion. The two speeches I will discuss have been heavily studied and commented on in previous decades, and, to the extent that this is possible, scholars have developed a standard interpretation for both. The analysis will consider the scholarly literature, but it will, in certain

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_7

147

148

G. TAHIN

places, diverge from it. I will avoid disputes and assume that argumentative strategies may be interpreted differently as long as one stays close to the orator’s words. The analysis of Antiphon’s work is based on an unpublished article and that of Cicero in Chapter 9 of my book Heuristic Strategies in the Speeches of Cicero.

1

Antiphon: ‘On the Murder of Herodes’

Antiphon wrote the defence speech for a well-to-do young man from the Greek town of Mytilene on the island of Lesbos in the north Aegean Sea.1 He stood trial in Athens for murdering a man (probably a citizen) in around 417 BC. The trial occurred during a period of relative peace in the Peloponnesian War between Athens and Sparta. Later in the speech, the defendant reveals a piece of significant historical information relevant to the rhetorical situation. The defendant’s father, a wealthy citizen of Mytilene, was said to have been involved in Mytilene’s revolt against Athenian rule during the Peloponnesian war in 428 BC. Although the speaker emphasises towards the end of the speech (76) that the father was unwilling to join the revolt, the fact that he did take part could have significantly raised the suspicion and prejudice among members of the audience. The circumstances of the murder made it difficult for the prosecution and the defence to prove their case conclusively. The accused Mytilenean was charged with killing Herodes, an Athenian citizen, during a sea journey to the town of Aeneus in Thrace. The defendant and the murdered man travelled on the same undecked boat. A storm forced the boat’s crew and the passengers to interrupt their voyage and put in somewhere in the territory of Methymna, a small town on the coast of the island of Lesbos. The travellers spent the night drinking after they transferred to a nearby ship. Herodes disappeared during this time, and his body was never found, despite intensive search efforts the next day. The defendant claimed he never left the boat and repeated his alibi several

1 The most important works on Antiphon and his speeches are Gagarin, M. 1994.

Probability and Persuasion; Plato and Early Greek Rhetoric in Persuasion: Greek Rhetoric in Action, ed. Ian Worthington, London, 26–45. ibid. 1996.; ibid. 1997. Antiphon: The Speeches. Cambridge; Gagarin, M. and MacDowell, M. (eds.), 1998. Antiphon and Andocides. Austin; Greek Orators I: Antiphon, Lysias by M. J. Edwards and S. Usher, Aris & Phillips Classical Texts (Warminster: Aris & Phillips, 1985).

7

CLASSICAL ORATORY

149

times during the speech. The available details of the alleged murder provided Antiphon with some useful points to hold on to in his defence. The body was never found, the exact manner of Herodes’ death was not known, and others could have been responsible (or perhaps nobody if the death was accidental). What strategy did Antiphon devise to counter the challenges of a prejudiced audience, lack of conclusive evidence and murder charge? Some rhetorical accounts suggest that Antiphon generally followed the arrangement of narrative, proof and argument. Accordingly, the speech can be divided into an introduction in which the defendant enumerates the difficulties he faces in proving his innocence (e.g. inexperience). The so-called preliminary argument with the objection to the allegedly wrong legal procedure (i.e. being tried by the wrong court) is then followed by a brief narrative of events, a lengthy discussion of proofs and arguments for and against the allegations and, finally, the closing argument. An issue with this division is that it overlooks the complexity of Antiphon’s extended argument, which contains several overlapping and related thematic sections and multiple levels of proof drawn from (the lack of) physical and written evidence, witness testimony and logical inference. A strategic reading of the speech does not reject the traditional division, but it considers additional factors contributing to the argument’s effectiveness. As we apply heuristic principles, we assess the relative importance and arrangement of Antiphon’s arguments, their substance and their connection. Antiphon’s greatest challenge was undermining the prosecution’s preparation for the case. He, therefore, made one of the (if not the) central pillars of the defence argument the objections against the alleged irregularity in the choice of the legal procedure and the ways of obtaining the evidence. In the defence argument, Euxitheus protests that he was unjustly arrested, the wrong procedure was used against him, and he cannot legally be tried as a kakourgos, a common criminal. The key point of Antiphon’s objections is that the defendant expected to be tried in a homicide case (dik¯e phonou) before the Areopagus. In contrast, he stood trial in a special procedure as a common criminal in a popular court, the Heliaea. Whether rightful or not, the defendant’s pre-trial treatment appears to have surprised Euxitheus, posing a significant challenge for the defence. Antiphon addresses the legal challenge head-on and assigns it a crucial initial position as the basis of his argumentative strategy.

150

G. TAHIN

The prosecution’s case rested on two crucial, yet not unassailable, pieces of evidence. The first is the testimony of a slave who travelled on the same boat as the defendant and the murdered man, whom the prosecutors later purchased. The slave was tortured after Herodes’ disappearance and confessed to the murder. However, when Herodes’ relatives decided to put him to death, the slave recanted his earlier admission and declared the defendant innocent. The second piece of evidence consisted of a note allegedly found on the decked boat, where the victim and the defendant spent the night. In that letter, the defendant informed a certain Lycinus of the murder. In the prosecution’s version of the events, Herodes, Euxitheus and the slave left the boat on the fatal night, went to the shore where the two men killed the victim and dumped the corpse in the sea. The defence strategy’s purpose was not to prove Euxitheus’ innocence but to discredit the prosecution’s version of the events. Antiphon uses a number of interrelated techniques to achieve his aim. First, he sets out to prove that the events which the prosecution described as showing a pattern of deliberate planning by the defendant (e.g. transferring from one ship to the other at night), happened merely by chance. Next, he presents a series of witness testimonies (the content of which did not survive) to challenge the prosecution’s version of events; for example, he did not leave the boat during the night when Herodes was murdered. In the speech, the defendant also attacks the prosecution for not providing a sufficient motive for the crime. However, Antiphon derives the strongest proof for the defendant’s innocence from the circumstantial evidence that he was tried under the wrong procedure. The techniques I outlined above combine to form a complex strategy similar to the ‘replacement’ and ‘changing the issue’ heuristics found elsewhere in forensic arguments, such as in Lysias 16, M. Tullius Cicero’s Pro Sulla, Pro Sexto Roscio Amerino and Pro Cluentio. Antiphon used his strategy to diminish the relevance of the primary legal question before the Athenian court (does the available evidence prove that Euxitheus killed Herodes?). The strategy involved the construction of a secondary line of argument based on a charge of alleged misconduct on the part of the prosecution and the falsification of evidence (should the prosecution’s mishandling of the procedure and the criminal evidence make an acquittal necessary?). This argument is presented throughout as the most fundamental proof of the defendant’s innocence. Antiphon treats

7

CLASSICAL ORATORY

151

the prosecution’s direct evidence about the alleged murder as proof of his claim that the trial was staged and thus lacks any degree of credibility. I will now briefly summarise the major elements of Antiphon’s persuasive strategy. Throughout the speech, the orator relies heavily on probabilistic reasoning and not just in places where he refers explicitly to the idea of eikos, likelihood. Repeated direct references and allusions to the prosecution’s misconduct and the falsification of evidence (especially within the so-called prokataskeue, preliminary argument in 8–19 and the epilogue in 85–96, the account of the unlawful torture and killing of the slave in 31–41, the supposed discovery of Lycinus’ letter on the boat in 53–56, the appeal to previous trials in 67–73 and the defence of his father from historic allegations in 74–79) prove that Antiphon consistently applied a strategy which could be regarded as an instance of the ‘replacement’ heuristic. In this, he (a) made the legalistic attack on the prosecution’s conduct and credibility the major proof of his client’s innocence and (b) based the refutation of the incriminating evidence on the implausibility of the accusers’ claims. Two reasons can be suggested for such two-tier reasoning. First, similar to the prosecution, Antiphon had a steep hill to climb to prove his client’s innocence with apparently little, not very detailed and potentially inconclusive evidence. Second, even the favourable evidence and probabilistic reasoning was most likely not enough to dispel the jury’s suspicion exacerbated by nationalistic, anti-Mytilenean, prejudice against a citizen from a former political ally. He needed, therefore, a general framework for his reasoning that would unite and magnify the relative probability of his proofs. The charge of using illegal means to secure a conviction was vague enough not to require a complete reliance on direct argument but was credible enough to give a seemingly general and conclusive explanation of the weaknesses of the prosecution’s argument.

2

Cicero: ‘In Defence of Milo’

The second speech I have chosen from antiquity as a model of heuristic reasoning is M. Tullius Cicero’s defence of T. Annius Milo.2 The speech 2 The analysis of the speech is based on Tahin, G., Heuristic Strategies in the Speeches of Cicero (Cham, Heidelberg, New York, Dordrecht, London: Springer, 2014) 127–143. On Cicero’s Pro Milone, see Wisse, J., The Riddle of the Pro Milone: The Rhetoric of Rational Argument, in J. Powell (ed.), Logos. Rational Argument in Classical Rhetoric.

152

G. TAHIN

is a model of a textbook-perfect rhetorical arrangement, and its argumentative plan is a good example of combining patterns of heuristic reasoning to respond to significant challenges in the human environment of the trial and the complexity of the legal case. The defendant T. Annius Milo was a Roman politician and agitator, who supported the optimates, a conservative political faction in the first century BC. He was a friend of Cicero and bitter political enemy of Julius Caesar and Publius Clodius Pulcher, a populist Roman politician and agitator. In the trial, Milo was accused of murdering Clodius in a violent brawl on the Via Appia near Bovillae, approximately 18 km from Rome on 18 January, 52 BC. Evidence and public sentiment were largely against Milo, and there was a significant risk of political gang violence returning to the streets of Rome. In such a politically tense atmosphere, Cicero undertook the task of defence. In the immediate aftermath of Clodius’s death, political riots by his supporters broke out, so the trial was held under tight security measures. The court was surrounded by the soldiers of the Roman general and consul Pompey to allow the trial to take place despite attempts to intimidate the defence. Asconius, the late Roman commentator of the speech, suggests that Pompey’s presence at the trial signified his intent that Milo had to be condemned. Cicero presented his speech on the last day of the proceedings after a host of damning witness testimonies against Milo. The orator was almost paralysed by the tense situation and was unable to finish delivering his speech. At the end of the trial, Milo was convicted and sent into exile. The speech we read today is not the original one but a rewritten version based on the original. It is an ideal version of what could have been said on the day to achieve Milo’s acquittal. The details of the case were complicated and posed multiple challenges to the defence. The prosecution and the defence presented competing accounts of what happened on the Via Appia on 18 January 52 BC, with plenty of witnesses available on both sides. The sequence of events was therefore broadly agreed on. We are also lucky enough to have the reconstruction of the late scholar and disinterested commentator, Asconius, who could read the prosecution and the defence speeches, had copies of

(BICS Supplement 96), London: Institute of Classical Studies, School of Advanced Study, University of London (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007) 35–68; Fotheringham, Lynn S., Persuasive Language in Cicero’s ‘Pro Milone’: A Close Reading and Commentary. BICS Supplement 121 (London: Institute for Classical Studies, School of Advanced Study, University of London, 2013).

7

CLASSICAL ORATORY

153

the testimonies and consulted external historical sources. Asconius’ most crucial assumption was that on the day of the murder, none of the enemies expected to see each other outside Rome. Clodius’ and Milo’s entourages met accidentally on the Via Appia. The two enemies passed each other without incident and restrained themselves from insulting each other. The fatal attack was provoked by Milo’s slaves, Eudamus and Birria, who lagged behind the main group. In the ensuing brawl, both parties claimed that they acted in self-defence. These opposing claims do not contradict the fact that neither Clodius nor Milo was personally responsible for the outbreak of the dispute. Asconius states that after putting Clodius’ escort to flight, Milo ordered his slaves to drive out the wounded Clodius from the roadside inn and kill him. Both the prosecution and the defence alleged that the other party had deliberately set up a trap. None of them argued for the actual sequence of events that the roadside quarrel broke out incidentally, and it developed into a bloody fight only after one of the slaves wounded Clodius on his shoulder. Cicero based his defence on the point that Clodius planned a trap to murder his enemy. He prepared several lines of defence arguments. He suggested that it was not Milo who wanted to kill Clodius, and even if he did murder him, it had been in self-defence. The prosecution, however, could draw support testimonies which described the outcome of the fight in horrific detail, the cruelty of which suggested an intentional act of murder. The greatest problem for the defence was offering a good reason why Milo needed to kill the wounded Clodius. The event around the roadside inn suggests that at some point, Milo gave an explicit command to kill the helpless Clodius and therefore bore direct responsibility for killing his enemy. The prosecution did not need to prove that Clodius was trapped. It was enough for them to show that Clodius was not directly responsible for the outbreak of the fight, and Milo pursued and ordered his wounded victim to be murdered. The evidence and the probabilities weighed heavier against the defendant. Cicero took the risk of defending his client against the charge of intentional killing and, by turning the probabilities the other way round, making Clodius the victim of his own plot. Three sections make up the core of Cicero’s strategy in the speech. The first section is found in 7–23 and is usually labelled as an answer to the praeiudicia. This section did not focus on the actual issue at hand but on the views and opinions of the jury at the trial (which was partly

154

G. TAHIN

the result of intense agitation), which could disadvantage Milo. In the second section in 24–29, Cicero tries to reconstruct the clash as he thinks it happened and establish the likelihood that Milo was not responsible for killing his enemy when Clodius ambushed him. The third section in 32–56 deals with comparative probabilistic arguments drawn from the life and actions of Milo and Clodius, which support the conclusion reached in the narratio that since Clodius was responsible for the attack, Milo had done nothing wrong in killing him in self-defence. Two elements of the defence strategy are central from the viewpoint of heuristic reasoning. In the so-called praeiudicia in 7–23, Cicero uses a variant of the ‘initial adjustment’ heureme. The reasoning in this section argues for a general legal framework based on the principle that one is legally allowed to kill someone who sets up an ambush to attack and kill them. The idea of ‘adjustment’ works in a way that, even if Milo shared some responsibility for his opponent’s death, the jury could still feel justified in judging Clodius’ death as self-defence. Cicero’s arguments in the praeiudicia focused on allegedly wrongful claims spread by the accusers in public meetings prior to the trial. For example, the prosecutors maintained that Milo’s admission of killing Clodius must automatically bring punishment or that the consul Pompey’s decision to hold an inquiry suggests that he expected a guilty sentence. Cicero judged these claims to be detrimental to the outcome of the trial and wanted to tackle them head-on. He did so by labelling these common opinions as ‘errores ’, mistakes, misconceptions or prejudices, thereby discounting their value for legal deliberation. The modern reader would judge this section as an erroneous and irrelevant jumble of ramblings on political and legal topics, but this view would misunderstand Cicero’s purpose. A direct assault on the prosecution’s version of facts would have most likely been ineffective in the face of overwhelming evidence against Milo. Cicero, therefore, chose to address the common views of the audience about the case forged by recent events. The technique of ‘rectifying’ the alleged mistakes in the common opinion gives the impression of ‘clearing the table’, thereby allowing a completely fresh, unbiased reappraisal of the events. The second element of Cicero’s heuristic strategy can be classified as a form of the ‘contrastive probabilities’ strategy. It is based on a detailed yet heavily biased and one-sided examination of the fatal event using as evidence alleged facts and probabilities drawn from the actions of the two men before their final hostile encounter. The heureme aims to streamline

7

CLASSICAL ORATORY

155

the argument about Milo’s innocence, narrow it down to the question of which party ambushed the other and turn the audience’s attention away from considering other probable scenarios (e.g. what actually happened) which could be damaging for Milo. The sharp focus on two diametrically opposite options meant that the possibility that the parties met accidentally on 18 January was excluded from the argument. The reason for this technique is obvious. Cicero knew that his defence against the charge of murder stood on weak grounds, as the witnesses to the event could testify that neither of the parties planned the fight in advance. A scrutiny of the details of the confrontation would have made obvious that Milo was the aggressor. The best Cicero could do in this case was to consider only those two possibilities which allowed a distorted analysis of the ambush, with the conclusion that Milo was innocent. In Milo’s murder trial, the defence’s success depended on creating a coherent and plausible argument that supplied enough probable proof of the defendant’s innocence. It must have been clear to Cicero that it was nigh on impossible to reach an acquittal by an objective assessment of what happened on 18 January. The only way the jury could be persuaded of Milo’s ‘innocence’ was if Cicero could demonstrate that despite the public opinion about Milo’s guilt, he was the victim of aggression by Clodius. Cicero’s strategy mirrored the prosecution’s line of argument and argued that 1. the public’s views about the trial and the defendant were incorrect, 2. Clodius ambushed Milo and 3. it was right for Milo to kill his enemy in self-defence. In an intricate arrangement of first the ‘initial adjustment’ and then the ‘contrastive probabilities’ heuremes, Cicero proved that legal self-defence is a natural right, especially if it involves an enemy of the state, in which case it is also a service to the people. The argument on the legality of the killing already presupposed that Milo was ambushed. In subsequent parts of the speech, Cicero argued, based on a simplified and manipulative reconstruction and comparison of events, that, in all likelihood, Milo acted as he did to defend himself in the face of direct aggression. The argument restricted to only two possible versions of events helped Cicero to ignore any damaging piece of evidence presented by the prosecution and known to the public. It remains a question whether Cicero’s strategy

156

G. TAHIN

would have been successful, had he delivered the speech as we have it today. Given the political turmoil surrounding the case, the answer would probably be no. Milo was subsequently found guilty and went into exile to Massilia (Marseille, France). He later joked that he would not have been able to enjoy the fine red mullets in Massilia, had Cicero delivered his defence at the trial.

CHAPTER 8

Modern Oratory

The purpose of the final chapter is to demonstrate how heuristic principles help us better understand the rhetorical effectiveness of speeches delivered in modern times. In the following, I will briefly discuss seven speeches representing modern oratory in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. The speeches cover a range of historical periods, geographical areas and social-cultural-political themes. The selection is by nature arbitrary and, although the examples reflect a certain bias towards political themes and figures, they aim to offer a wide variety of perspectives. Above all, I chose the speeches on the basis of the strategic and rhetorical features they exhibit and the general interest they may command. I will begin with a comparative account of Barack Obama’s ‘Speech at Election Night in 2008’ and D. Trump’s speech at the 2017 US Presidential Inauguration ceremony.

© The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_8

157

158

G. TAHIN

1 Barack Obama: ‘Speech at Election Night in 2008’, and Donald Trump: ‘Inauguration Speech’ The first speech was delivered on the day when Barack Obama won the 2008 presidential election. Donald Trump delivered his speech at the presidential inauguration following his election victory in 2016.1 The rhetorical situation was also similar in that both candidates’ victory over more established candidates with greater chances of winning, John McCain and Hillary Rodham Clinton, was largely against the odds. The winning candidates, whom many voters perceived as outsiders in the Washington political establishment, expressed the hope of the electorate that they would deliver significant political, social and economic changes. A major difference between the two was, apart from their diametrically opposite political creed, their intellectual-professional background and style. Barack Obama, a lawyer and academic, appeared as a highly educated and sophisticated, if slightly aloof, intellect with a charismatic power of speech, while Donald Trump put on the persona of a brash showman, a loud demagogue with a hyperbolic, random, simplistic and direct style of speaking. The question I will consider about the two speeches is how heuristic principles could help explain the speakers’ strategies to create a celebratory, unifying and reconciliatory piece of rhetoric. I will first give a brief summary of Barack Obama’s victory speech. The president-elect begins with a variation on the idea of the ‘American Dream’, reinforcing it with the notion of inclusivity. After thanking his opponent, his family, the vice-president-elect and all volunteers who helped his campaign, he chooses themes about looking forward to the future. Maintaining an optimistic tone, Obama reminds his audience of the extensive challenges everyone together will have to face. The account of difficulties then leads onto the field of values which Obama believes are necessary to face the future. He summons the ideals of patriotism, service, responsibility and humility while decrying the evils of partisanship, pettiness and immaturity, which entrench party division and halt progress. The speech at this point broadens to a call on the world’s nations, restating the

1 The speeches can be accessed at many places. https://www.nytimes.com/2012/ 11/07/us/politics/transcript-of-president-obamas-election-night-speech.html; https:// www.politico.com/story/2017/01/full-text-donald-trump-inauguration-speech-transc ript-233907.

8

MODERN ORATORY

159

president-elect’s commitment to ‘American leadership’ and the concept of a rules-based international partnership based on the ideals of ‘democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope’. At this point, the speech’s thematic focus changes dramatically as Obama ostensibly recounts the life story of one of his voters, the 106year-old Ann Nixon Cooper. This section of the speech, purportedly a summary of an elderly lady’s life experience, is more a panorama of events focalised by one person’s view of significant turning points in the twentieth century. Just before the end of the speech, Obama turns to a hypothetical future point from which her daughters might look backwards in time, asking what change and progress they might see. The final lines return to the present moment as the right time (‘kairos ’) to act as ‘This is our moment. This is our time — to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth that out of many, we are one’. This account of the speech, and the quote, suggest that Obama’s speech combines standard rhetorical elements of political-celebratory speeches (for example, giving thanks to various parties) with creative use of the temporal perspective to underline the unique nature of the present moment. Donald Trump’s Inaugural Speech is unique in that it eschews some of the thematic conventions and unwritten rules of rhetoric for inauguration speeches, for example, a call for unity and reconciliation and the requirement to draw up a universally positive vision for the country. Donald Trump’s speech is heavily built on antithesis. It paints an image of a divided society in the United States. On the opposite poles of this image are the ‘forgotten and suppressed people’ and the self-serving, exploitative ‘Washington establishment’. The central thread of the speech is the idea that Donald Trump’s presidency will serve the people of the United States and not the political establishment. The speaker begins with a paradoxical idea that at the present inauguration, power is passed on not from one administration to the other but from the ‘Establishment in Washington’ to the American people, previously deprived of political agency. The paradox rests on the (unstated) premise that under previous administrations, the US government, supported by a ruling and presumably oppressive establishment, failed to represent the will of the American

160

G. TAHIN

people. However, in the coming presidency, the American people, represented by Donald Trump, will have direct control over the government’s decision-making. The notion of giving back power to the people becomes meaningful against the background of a dystopian image of the country’s present state. The infamous call, ‘This American carnage stops right here and stops right now’, is expanded at length through a description which gives the impression that the country was destroyed and looted by hostile forces, both internal and external. The call for unity is to be understood within the context of rebuilding the country which has been ravaged and depleted in previous years. The hallmark of Donald Trump’s idea of unity is not a set of values and ideals as in Barack Obama’s victory speech, but an idiosyncratic concept of ‘America’ which acquires its greatness by serving its own interests, ‘America First’. In Donald Trump’s vision, the country’s oppressed people will regain their former glory by acting explicitly selfishly. In what follows, the orator announces his political agenda guided by the principle of what is best for the American people. Action is promised in areas claimed to have been failed by previous governments: above all, protecting the American economy from foreign beneficiaries, rebuilding the country, stopping illegal immigration and eradicating Islamist terror organisations. Unity is ensured by allegiance and loyalty to the country and other citizens and protection by its military and God. In the final sections, the speech conjures up a vision of a future where the action takes the place of empty politics, underlined by the temporal declaration, ‘Now arrives the hour of action’. The sense of unity which emerges from the speech is not so much based on shared values but patriotism defined by geographical unity, symbolic and legal unity (citizenship, respect for the American flag) and the ideal unity represented by the US army. The climax of the speech, with its dramatic anaphora, reiterates Donald Trump’s promise to the people: ‘Together, we will make America strong again. We will make America wealthy again. We will make America proud again We will make America safe again, And yes, together, we will make we will make America great again’. The two speeches appear markedly different if we compare them based on their political ideology and vision. However, a brief heuristic analysis taking into account the speakers’ credibility, the speeches’ themes and the circumstances of delivery show broadly similar strategic considerations best understood in terms of temporality. Obama and Trump

8

MODERN ORATORY

161

both capitalised on the fact that they were ‘new faces’ in politics who came to herald a radical change in government action. Both speakers heavily use the key contingent element of their rhetorical situation, the unlikely nature of their victory and the high expectation of them. Obama embeds his victory in the context of the American Dream, which allowed him to become the first black president of the United States. He shares his unique position with the country’s entire population to argue that real change is possible. Donald Trump also turned a contingent element of the rhetorical situation at the inauguration, his unexpected win over Hillary Clinton, into one of the central theses of his political narrative. His words suggest that the present moment was evidence that the American people’s revolt against the political establishment in Washington was successful. While both presidents-elect utilised their ‘situational momentum’ to represent themselves as new forces of change, there is a major difference between the intended audience of the orators. Obama makes a clear attempt from the beginning to reach out to everyone in society, regardless of their differences. Trump appears to address all citizens, but how he describes the audience makes it clear that he only speaks to a restricted section of society, those who identify themselves as victims of the ‘American carnage’. As examples of demonstrative, celebratory oratory at historical turning points, both speeches show deep conviction and carry their message with plausibility. The orators speak from a position of strength, and the speeches are heavily dependent on the speakers’ credibility rather than effective reasoning. Obama projects himself as a respectful, generous, grateful and humble winner who is realistic about the difficulties he faces. Throughout his speech, he frequently mentions individuals by name, such as John McCain, his opponent, his wife and children and Ann Nixon Cooper, and addresses groups of people, either praising the efforts of his own supporters, or recalling the values which ideally characterise the Republican Party. The considerate and inclusive appeal to his supporters and opponents creates an image of a person who aims to embody American values and universal human virtues at the same time. Donald Trump projects an entirely different but equally powerful persona. He shows himself as a man of action, a timely saviour from the callous political and economic elite, whose selfishness and greed caused suffering to millions of ordinary Americans. Unlike Obama, Donald Trump does not explicitly appeal to values and virtues. Instead, his trademark direct and abrasive language and the dark vision of the speech

162

G. TAHIN

convey his character as a person who is not afraid of telling the truth and taking a stand against power to protect those who suffer from deprivation. The apocalyptic image of a desolate country echoes the visions of Old Testament prophets. It lends Trump’s persona a certain religious charisma, which may, to his followers, engender trust in his words. The temporal framework of the two speeches shows some similarities, but there are also notable differences in how the two orators manipulate the structure of events connected with the time of speaking. As expected, both Trump and Obama stress the significance of the present moment, but the way they interpret its force and embed it in their argument is entirely different. Obama focuses on the connection between the past and the present. He looks at the ‘now’ as a culmination of a historic struggle, a moment for a pause to strengthen hope in the future. He treats the past as a repository of hard-earned experience to justify the audience’s sense of jubilation. In the monumental historic panorama described through the life of Ann Nixon, Obama treats the past as a force which unifies a divided society and enables the American nation to reconnect with its core values and rebuild itself after the financial crisis in 2008. Recognising past struggles conveys wisdom, self-belief and strength to face the political and social challenges ahead. This technique becomes especially dominant at the end of the speech. Donald Trump has a strikingly dualistic image of time. He describes the present as a watershed moment dividing a dark and difficult past and a future characterised by hope and action. As he says, ‘But that is the past, and now we are looking only to the future’. The present is treated transitorily, as a moment to claim that ‘power is transferred to the people’. The relationship between the past and the future is entirely antithetical; in Trump’s view, the past has no connection with the future. The future for the orator draws its sense and weight from the fact that it will be entirely different from the past. As I noted earlier, this dualistic image is profoundly prophetic, creating a messianic image of Trump, which works well with his claim that he is an outsider in politics. Trump’s use of the sharply divided temporal structure is also notable in that it avoids specific references to historical events. This highly simplified view of history reinforces Trump’s prophetic vision and broadens its appeal for members of the audience who lack a nuanced view of American (and world) history. It may be easy to dismiss the speech’s temporal structure as superficial and distorting reality, but that would miss some key insights. Trump’s speech works with powerful imagery. The argument is direct and the temporal

8

MODERN ORATORY

163

structure highly compact, aligning tightly with the projected character of the speaker as a man of action and direct voice of truth.

2

Angela Merkel: ‘An address to the nation’

The speeches of two former American presidents will be followed by a cluster of three addresses, which came about under very different circumstances, yet show a common element in that each was written in response to a critical point in their national history. The first one was delivered at the height of the 2020–2021 coronavirus pandemic. The German Chancellor, Angela Merkel, who is not otherwise considered a natural orator, delivered a speech on television to the German nation on 18 March, 2020, at the height of the coronavirus pandemic.2 The speech won universal acclaim in Germany and abroad for its reasoned, objective and science-based arguments and impassioned appeal to national solidarity during a critical health, social and economic crisis. Angela Merkel’s address was well well received in Germany. Her language was markedly different from speeches made by other heads of state, such as Emmanuel Macron, Boris Johnson and Donald Trump. Addresses by those three politicians did not appear to show sufficient empathy for the suffering of others, as they (at least initially) downplayed the severity of the pandemic or used an overtly authoritative and belligerent tone. The main feature of the German Chancellor’s persuasive strategy was not emphasising her position of authority right from the beginning. She speaks in a dignified and respectful manner as prima inter pares, first in the community of citizens. She explicitly refers to the principle of open democracy, where political leaders are duty-bound to speak the truth to citizens. She immediately presses the gravity of the situation without being alarmist or painting a bleak picture of the country’s state. Merkel’s language is measured, obligingly polite, yet sharp and direct. The sentences ‘Allow me therefore to say that this is serious. Please also take this seriously!’ are a perfect example of her plain and forceful style, reflecting the principle of openness she advocated from the beginning. From the start, another anchor point of her argument is the appeal to scientific research as a guide for government decisions.

2 https://www.bundesregierung.de/breg-de/themen/coronavirus/statement-chance llor-1732296.

164

G. TAHIN

The speech is particularly effective in staying focused on explaining why what is happening is necessary. The Chancellor clearly and concisely addresses a series of topics relevant to the public, varying factual and personal tones. She discusses the ongoing efforts to find a vaccine, the reasons for a lockdown, the state of the healthcare system, gratitude to medical staff and essential services. She spends considerable time acknowledging the extraordinary nature of the restrictions on public life and explaining their necessity. This section is especially significant due to potential constitutional, political and social issues which arose from measures to restrict freedom of movement and travel, considering, in part, Germany’s historical experience in the twentieth century. Reassurances about economic support are followed by guarantees about continued food supplies and a sincere expression of thanks to staff working in shops. In the final sections of the speech, Merkel recaps and expands the key messages of the speech, namely, everyone must make an effort to follow the guidelines in the interest of the national community. To balance the harshness of the measures, she expands the speech into the sphere of personal values, affection and friendship. At the end of the speech, Merkel avoids any dramatic climax. She reminds the audience of the uncertainty of the situation and encourages citizens to show perseverance, calm, rational thinking and charity towards others. The speech may appear rather unremarkable at first, presenting standard topics that governments around the world reiterated to their citizens countless times during the pandemic. What makes the Chancellor’s speech nevertheless an outstanding example of stately oratory? One answer lies in its highly effective choice of restrained rhetorical style, tone and themes in response to a critical situation, back up by her popularity and her image as a compassionate and trustworthy stateswoman. Merkel understood the nature of the crisis brought about by the pandemic. Several contingent elements of the rhetorical situation required careful handling. At the time of delivery, the COVID-19 pandemic, due to the high mortality numbers and the lack of available vaccines, created a strong sense of fear about the state of society, economy and government, uncertainty and helplessness in the people, exacerbated by the unprecedented and draconian lockdown measures. For a Chancellor who did not frequently give televised addresses, speaking to a whole nation at that moment required carefully balancing multiple contingencies. Merkel had to project a sense of calm and reasonableness without appearing over-confident or alarmist. She also had to convey the idea that people should think of themselves as part of

8

MODERN ORATORY

165

a community and be able to help the situation despite the apparent hopelessness created by the pandemic. Finally, it was necessary to show that the German government was in control of the crisis while fully mindful of the people’s physical, emotional and mental needs. The apparent simplicity of the speech belies a complex and effective argumentative strategy. One element of this strategy is a carefully structured, comprehensive and comprehensible survey of all aspects of the crisis in a way that responds directly and honestly to citizens’ concerns. In this case, the structure and comprehensiveness of the speech become one of the primary sources of persuasion. How can structure, an abstract and inconspicuous aspect of a speech, have a persuasive effect? The answer, in this case, lies in the rhetorical situation. The Chancellor speaks in the middle of the pandemic, which threatens the life and livelihoods of millions of people. The health crisis created deep uncertainties, for example, about the spread of the virus, the production of vaccines, the state of the economy and the government’s ability to cope with the situation. The structure of the speech and its comprehensive coverage of issues, in this case, communicates order, control and the government’s ability to act on the condition that the community of citizens supports it. The structural order of the speech is reinforced by the constant variation of topics presented in short segments and explained through different perspectives, such as scientific, governmental and personal views. The beginning of the speech exemplifies this variation effectively. Merkel first explains the scientific rationale for the restrictions (‘then only one thing matters, namely that we slow the spread of the virus, flatten the curve over the course of several months and buy time. Time in which the research community can develop a medicine and vaccine’). She then speaks about managing the state of the healthcare system from the government’s point of view: ‘Germany has an excellent healthcare system, perhaps one of the best in the world. … But our hospitals would also be completely overwhelmed’. Next, she moves on to how individuals may experience the crisis: ‘These are not just abstract numbers in statistics, but this is about a father or grandfather, a mother or grandmother, a partner – this is about people. And we are a community in which each life and each person counts’. This effective variation of viewpoints within the speech, combined with its clear structural organisation and the repetition of key messages (‘Allow me therefore to say that this is serious’. and ‘The situation is serious’), makes for highly effective persuasion.

166

G. TAHIN

Another powerful technique is what may be called ‘extended character persuasion’. This mode of rhetoric attempts to convince through an explicit appeal to reasonableness, personal credibility, empathy and openness as a mark of every citizen in an idealised image of a democratic society, concealing as much as possible the speaker’s political status and the inevitably authoritative and rhetorical nature of the address. In classical rhetoric, indirect persuasion would be identified as one of the Aristotelian means of persuasion, ¯ethos. However, this case suggests a more developed form than the original concept of artistic proof, based on phron¯esis (practical wisdom), aret¯e (moral excellence) and eunoia (goodwill). The technique is called extended character persuasion because it argues (implicitly and explicitly) that the example of the speaker and the government they represent is the ideal model of thought, feeling and action, which is to be shared among all the citizens within the nation as a community. The strength of this argument does not merely depend on the speaker’s ¯ethos, but on how well the speaker can communicate with the audience the fact that they all share the values and needs, so their actions in a crisis such as the present one should also conform to a norm. One of the initial sections of the speech is an excellent example of this method: ‘I’m addressing you in this unconventional way today because I want to tell you what guides me as Federal Chancellor and all my colleagues in the Federal Government in this situation. This is part of what open democracy is about: that we make political decisions transparent and explain them. That we justify and communicate our actions as best we can, so that people are able to understand them. I firmly believe that we will pass this test if all citizens genuinely see this as THEIR task’. Merkel’s claim here is not simply about stating the political principle which guides her action. She is introducing the basis of the argument that the Chancellor and the government can only function if the citizens acknowledge and become motivated by the same values and principles which guide the decisions of the country’s leadership. Naturally, this argument depends very heavily on the type and self-image of the community, and in a divided community or society, local or national, it would not work. The next speech exemplifies a case very different from the present one. The leader of an authoritarian system of government argues for a position generally considered to be a violation of international law through an appeal to principles which its actions do not embody and to a national community purportedly connected by its historical heritage.

8

3

MODERN ORATORY

167

Vladimir Putin: ‘Crimean speech’

The ‘Crimean speech’ was delivered by the Russian president, Vladimir Putin, on 18 March, 2014, in the Moscow Kremlin to the lower and the upper houses of the Federal Assembly of Russia.3 The address follows a series of turbulent events between 20 February and 26 March 2014, commonly described as the ‘Annexation of Crimea’ by the Russian Federation. The purpose of the speech was to formally announce the beginning of the process of Crimea’s succession to the Russian Federation following a referendum in Crimea on 16 March and argue for its legitimacy. The speech elicited a sharp reaction from across the world. In Russia, it was publicly hailed as an affirmation of Russia’s sovereignty and the country’s right to take back a territory she had always considered her own. The speech was widely criticised in the United States and Western Europe for distorting facts and arguing on highly tenuous grounds for the legality of Russia’s military aggression against Ukraine. I will first summarise the main argument of the speech and then suggest a way to describe its strategy. The analysis will concentrate on the rhetorical aspects of the speech. However, readers will no doubt be mindful that many claims made by the Russian president are highly contestable or outright untrue. Putin begins by stating the result of the referendum and that Crimea would now be part of the Russian Federation. The president then embarks on a brief historical excursus to explain how ‘Everything in Crimea speaks of our shared history and pride’. He presents historical-narrative evidence to support this statement, starting from the baptism in 988 of Prince Vladimir, the founder of the mediaeval Kievan Rus, right up to the twentieth century. He devotes time to stress that ‘Crimea is a unique blend of different peoples’ cultures and traditions’, elaborating in detail on the fate of the Crimean Tatars, most of whom boycotted the referendum during the soviet and post-soviet times and reassuring all ethnic minorities of Russia’s peaceful intentions. After the historical excursus, the president soon arrives at the central proposition of the speech. ‘In people’s hearts and minds, Crimea has always been an inseparable part of Russia. This firm conviction is based on truth and justice and was passed from generation to generation, over time,

3 The official version of the speech in English translation can be accessed at http:// en.kremlin.ru/events/president/news/20603. A useful online commentary to the speech can be found at https://crimea.dekoder.org/speech.

168

G. TAHIN

under any circumstances …’. This claim then leads on to the detailed story of the ‘outrageous historical injustice’, Crimea’s transfer from the Russian to the Ukrainian Soviet Republic in 1954 and the subsequent collapse of the Soviet Union, which made the separation seemingly final. A lament of the endless political crises, poverty and corruption in Ukraine leads to the 2014 (Euro)Maidan protests and the removal of the Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovich. At this point, Putin describes the 2014 protests in apocalyptic terms, suggesting that Russian minorities were in danger of repression. ‘They resorted to terror, murder and riots. Nationalists, neo-Nazis, Russophobes and anti-Semites executed this coup. They continue to set the tone in Ukraine to this day’. The narrative of recent events justifies why Russia had to intervene in Crimea and ‘help create conditions so that the residents of Crimea for the first time in history were able to peacefully express their free will regarding their own future’. This sentence then marks the transition to the second part of the speech, which addresses the international community and is intended to rebuff the criticism by Western countries. The second half of President Putin’s address uses a two-pronged argument to defend Crimea’s annexation. He responds to specific legal points raised by the international community about the legality of Russia’s action. These include arguments that Russia did not use her armed forces to intervene in Ukraine, as her soldiers were present by an international agreement with Ukraine. He also cites The Charter of the United Nations, in Article 1(2), to suggest that Crimeans appealed to peoples’ right to self-determination when they called the referendum. He then goes into an offensive against the international critics citing the Kosovo precedent, when mostly Western states recognised Kosovo’s independence in 2008, in apparent contravention to international law, and accusing Western nations of hypocrisy and double standards in their attack against Russia. In the final part of the speech, Putin widens the speech’s focus, keeping up his adversarial position towards his critics. He no longer speaks about the legality of Crimea’s annexation but the grievances Russia suffered over the decades after the break-up of the Soviet Union. The prime target of this attack is the United States and Western countries, which Putin claims to have been engaging in a ‘policy of containment’ against Russia since the eighteenth century. ‘Like a mirror, the situation in Ukraine reflects what is going on and what has been happening in the world over the past

8

MODERN ORATORY

169

several decades. After the dissolution of bipolarity on the planet, we no longer have stability. … Our western partners, led by the United States of America, prefer not to be guided by international law in their practical policies, but by the rule of the gun’. Towards the end of the speech, the president again changes the tone of the speech and speaks in a more conciliatory tone. He addresses members of the international community who accepted Russia’s actions, the people of Ukraine, Russia and Crimea, who supported the ‘reunification’. This short summary of the speech suggests an intricate structure. The president addresses multiple audiences, domestic and international, and deals with a bewildering array of topics, many of which seem incidental or irrelevant as to whether the ‘reunification’ of Russia and Crimea was legal. The chief questions confronting the reader (listener) are (a) what the Russian president tries to argue about and (b) what strategy he uses to deliver his argument. The answer to neither of these questions is easy. Putin seems to deliberately adopt strategic ambiguity about the exact point of his argument. He argues for several points, such as the historical unity of Russia and Crimea, which are closely or loosely associated with the annexation of Crimea. The main argument to emerge from this melee seems to be that ‘the unification’ of Russia and Crimea was a historical necessity and came about as the result of a process that meets the standards of international law. The reason for the strategic ambiguity can be inferred from the rhetorical situation. The referendum and the annexation of Crimea violated numerous international treaties of which Russia was a signatory, was condemned by the United Nations General Assembly and is widely regarded as incompatible with international law.4 The president faced the challenge of giving a rationale for an event widely seen as military aggression against another country and responding to objections. Nevertheless, the rhetorical situation had a unique characteristic that can easily be overlooked, although it is singularly important to understand the strategy of the speech. At the time of delivery, Russia had already de facto held Crimea, and it was not directly threatened by military intervention; therefore, it did not in the strict sense require a genuine rebuttal of legal arguments against the annexation. It must have been clear to the Russian president that even if he did attempt to present a cogent argument for the legality of 4 A summary of the legal issues can be found in https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ann exation_of_Crimea_by_the_Russian_Federation#Legal_issues.

170

G. TAHIN

the annexation, it would not be accepted by the majority of the international community. It was also clear that no country would forcefully challenge Russia’s actions. Therefore, in the political and military situation at the time, Putin knew he could set a low bar for himself to demonstrate publicly that Russia’s actions were not an open, direct, military aggression against another country. All he had to do was give a semblance of a justified response to satisfy his domestic and international audiences. He did this by showing that it was at least possible to frame the annexation in terms of international legal and democratic norms, no matter how loosely and tenuously. The question of what strategy Putin applied in his speech should be judged in light of the president’s objectives which I outlined above. Most critics of the speech condemn it on the basis of its dubious political, legal and historical arguments. That is because the speech does give the impression that it wants to make a legal case. However, as I explained, Vladimir Putin’s main objective was to present a plausible justification for the country’s actions. The president achieved this aim through what could be described as the ‘parallel worlds reasoning’. The essence of the strategy is to provide in an indefensible case an argument that mirrors and mimics an opposing argument which is most likely to be judged right by independent standards. The ‘parallel worlds’ argument challenges the basic assumptions of what the majority of the intended audience would regard as an appropriate description of reality, physical and human. The orator can do so from a position of power in which there is a necessity to present a seemingly convincing case. However, there is no direct threat that the argument would be challenged or dismissed with severe consequences. As the name of the strategy suggests, the speaker anticipates the opposing argument (and most likely recognises its validity). He then counters the objections by assimilating its assumptions—in the present case, the requirement for legal and democratic norms—and by mimicking them to achieve the degree of plausibility required by the case. The Russian president’s strategy may seem unique, but the argumentative principle of mirroring legitimate arguments and creating a false but plausible alternative to discredit the legitimate version is relatively widespread, and not just in international politics. It is a standard tool for those who argue in favour of conspiracy and pseudo-scientific theories.

8

MODERN ORATORY

171

4 Mao Zedong: ‘Speech at the Lushan Conference’ The next speech represents a unique example of Chinese political oratory that played a significant role in China’s twentieth-century history. Mao Zedong’s speech at the Lushan Conference of the Chinese Communist Party on 23 July, 1959 marked a turning point in his leadership.5 The background to the speech is the Great Leap Forward, a programme of the Chinese Communist Party initiated in 1958 to support the agricultural and economic development of the country through a series of policies and projects. The national development programme involved the organisation of rural ‘people’s communes’, with tens of thousands of local farmers forced into large production units. Despite some of its successes, the programme led to disastrous consequences. The most tragic outcome was the death of tens of millions of Chinese due to starvation. The scale and cost of the disaster were initially hidden from the party leadership as a result of false reporting by local politicians who feared that they would be labelled as ‘Rightists’ and purged by the party. The Party leadership met at a resort on Mount Lu to discuss problems with the Great Leap. Mao, by that time, had already been aware of the issues with the programme and advocated changes, which regional leaders of the Communist Party resisted. At the conference, Peng Dehuai, the Defence Minister, sent a letter to Mao in which he carefully voiced criticism of some aspects of the programme, especially the practice of reporting inflated numbers about the grain harvests. Mao responded to Peng’s letter with a speech in which he aggressively attacked those who criticised him. The outcome of the speech was devastating. Peng was purged from the party and arrested, along with several high-ranking officials, such as Li Riu, Mao’s personal secretary, who agreed with Peng and advocated moderation. The speech also ushered in Mao’s increasingly authoritarian leadership approach, which in a few years led to the Cultural Revolution. The tone of the speech is crude and belligerent right from the beginning. Mao attacks some of his comrades as having ‘the tendency to be

5 On the Lushan Conference, see https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/ acref/9780190622671.001.0001/acref-9780190622671-e-400?rskey=ghAO9v&result=1, the text of the speech in English translation is accessible at https://www.marxists.org/ reference/archive/mao/selected-works/volume-8/mswv8_34.htm.

172

G. TAHIN

touchy’ and unwilling to listen to ‘bad words’. He soon conjures up the image of the party under siege by its enemies, which immediately sets the scene as a conflict situation rather than a reasoned discussion motivated by the common interest for the benefit of the Chinese people. ‘We are under combined attack from within and outside the Party’. Once the image of a fight is set, Mao begins careful manoeuvring between fiercely attacking his opponents, acknowledging some of their criticisms and defending his position. His language is direct and visually forceful throughout, especially during attacks. A good example of Mao’s aggressive rhetorical style is the following brief extract: ‘Why should we let the others talk? The reason is that China will not sink down, the sky will not fall. We have done some good things and our backbones are strong. The majority of comrades need to strengthen their backbones. Why are they not all strong? Just because for a time there were too few vegetables, too few hair-grips, no soap, a lack of balance in the economy and tension in the market, everyone became tense’. In broad outline, Mao’s argument appears relatively straightforward. The chairman acknowledges mistakes and slow progress within the party, but constantly pushes back against criticism. The pattern of accepting criticism and rejecting it gives a balanced rhythm to the speech. It also creates an image of a leader who is in complete control of the events and who faces challenges but does not allow any doubt to creep into the audience’s minds. As Mao says, ‘Now I have learnt to listen, to toughen my scalp and listen for one or two weeks and then counter-attack. I would advise comrades to listen. Whether you agree or not is your business. If you don’t agree and if I am wrong, then I will make a self-criticism’. The first main area of discussion is the criticism that the party leadership ‘have become isolated from the masses’ and allowed lower level cadres to extort produce from local brigades and communities. He puts the blame squarely on regional and local leaders who unlawfully appropriated produce and property out of ideological enthusiasm without understanding ‘the principles of political economy’. According to Mao, the solution is the wide-scale education of people, which would end wrongful acquisitions and introduce more realistic targets within the planned economy. The second main part of the speech addresses Mao’s critics, as he labels them ‘those who waver’. ‘Some people will waver in times of crisis and show a lack of resolution in the great storms of history. … this is the wavering of the bourgeoisie, or to fall one step lower, the wavering of the petite bourgeoisie. For the nature of rightists is to be

8

MODERN ORATORY

173

constantly influenced by the bourgeoisie’. Mao deflects and neutralises the accusations further by rebranding critics as waverers and ‘rightists’ in the middle of the speech. Although the chairman attacks his critics directly, it would be a mistake to see the speech as an act of political aggression. Mao does not merely disparage those who express disagreement with him. Instead, he advances an argument to reinterpret the set of problems discussed in the conference not from a detached and pragmatic but from an ideological perspective. Mao applies the ideology of a communist revolutionary movement as a bond which connects the main parts of the speech and underwrites the logic of his argument. This lengthy section is rounded up with a call to unity as the ideological means to reconcile apparent animosity between Mao and his critics (‘Raise the banner of unity, unity of the people, the nation and the Party’). In the later parts of the speech, Mao discusses individual social and economic problems, including the viability of worker’s communes, the problem of workers’ canteens and, finally, the issues with industrial planning, especially in relation to the disastrous policy of mass steel smelting, which he personally initiated. The final part of the speech is particularly dramatic with some pieces of especially graphic language, following the earlier pattern of taking responsibility and fighting back, blaming others and drawing parallel with respectable historical figures who he claimed to have also made mistakes. The argument in these sections is not always easy to follow as it is frequently interspersed with historical examples and anecdotes. However, the force of Mao’s revolutionary conviction binds together disparate lines of thought. The following extract, with the crude but memorable end of the speech, highlights Mao’s commanding style and antithetical reasoning pattern. Who was responsible for the idea of the mass smelting of steel? K’o Ch’ingshih or me? I say it was me. … I have committed two crimes, one of which is calling for 10,700,000 tons of steel and the mass smelting of steel. If you agreed with this, you should share some of the blame. But since I was the inventor of burial puppets, I cannot pass on the blame: the main responsibility is mine. … There is also the General Line. Whether it has any substance or not, you can share some of the responsibility for this… . If you want to talk about haste, Marx also made many mistakes. … Yours is a question of ideology, mine of 10,700,000 tons and ninety million

174

G. TAHIN

people going into battle. The chaos caused was on a grand scale and I take responsibility. Comrades, you must all analyse your own responsibility. If you have to shit, shit! If you have to fart, fart! You will feel much better for it.

The primary question from a rhetorical point of view is what strategy, if any, Mao follows in his speech. In order to answer this question, it is necessary to find out what situation he was responding to and the objective he had in mind before delivery. The Lushan Conference, where Mao spoke, was convened in a national crisis, threatening the existence of the Chinese Communist Party and the People’s Republic of China. Mao knew that millions died of starvation as a result of the party’s campaign, the ‘Great Leap Forward’, and the economy was in tatters. He himself faced criticism, which he took as a personal attack designed to undermine his leadership. Therefore, the speech’s purpose was not simply to respond to the attacks but also to reassert his authority and show that the crisis was manageable with reasonable solutions, a self-critical attitude and ‘revolutionary thinking’. To achieve these aims, Mao had to take a balanced approach between appearing authoritarian yet mindful of the social and economic disasters for which he was largely responsible. The chairman sustained a near-constant attack on party members and policies, but he did so in a controlled manner. His language and themes sound didactic, giving an image of a harsh but selfless schoolmaster who speaks only in his audience’s interest. Even in its crudest and most hostile form, the argument remains focused on what needs to be done to make the ‘Great Leap Forward’ programme work for the people, despite the project’s failings. The context and logic of argument are rooted firmly in the communist revolutionary mindset, which grounds the rhetorical situation and allows Mao to maintain the level of verbal and political aggression in a way which would otherwise be very difficult, if the speaker considered the awful reality of millions starving. Mao’s strategy mixes attack (in dominant position), self-criticism and revolutionary propaganda in a controlled and effective form, which could perhaps be described as a ‘balanced, multi-directional offensive’. The strategy acquires considerable force, in that the series of attacks are justified by the revolutionary ideology and moderated by self-critical sections. Interestingly, elements of this strategy occurred at times in Donald Trump’s speeches, in which his bitter attacks

8

MODERN ORATORY

175

on his opponents would be balanced by (and mostly insincere) attempts to feign admitting mistakes, while embedding his arguments in a populist ‘Trumpist’ ideological stance.

5 Aung San Suu Kyi: ‘Speech at the International Court of Justice’ The following speech chosen for analysis shows similarity to the previous one in that it was written in defence of a catastrophic event in which many innocent civilians died and tens of thousands were forced to flee their homes. The speech is remarkable in many ways, particularly in the perceived contradiction between the speaker and the topic under discussion. It was delivered on 11 December, 2019 by Aung San Suu Kyi, the former Nobel Laureate and State Counsellor of Myanmar, at the International Court of Justice. The speaker’s task was to defend Myanmar and its military regime against charges of genocide committed against the mainly Muslim Rohingya minority.6 The charges were brought by The Gambia on behalf of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation. The case related to accusations of rape, mass killings and the expulsion of the Rohingya by the Myanmar military forces. The accusers claimed that Myanmar’s army violated the 1948 Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide. Aung San Suu Kyi, who was the de facto leader of Myanmar at the time (but was not on trial herself) defended the country’s military against the accusations at The Hague. In the aftermath, she drew widespread international criticism for not focusing on the atrocities the Rohingya suffered and thus contradicted the principles she represented in her earlier political career as a campaigner for political and human rights. The case against Myanmar’s military was supported by the UN Independent International Fact-Finding Mission’s report on Myanmar, published on 16 September, 2019. The investigators gave a detailed and severely damning account of the army’s actions against the Rohingya in

6 The transcript of the speech can be found at https://www.aljazeera.com/news/ 2019/12/12/transcript-aung-san-suu-kyis-speech-at-the-icj-in-full. For summary, analysis and reactions, see https://news.un.org/en/story/2019/12/1053221, and https://www. theguardian.com/world/2019/dec/11/aung-san-suu-kyi-tells-icj-myanmar-genocide-cla ims-factually-misleading. For a detailed background of the conflict, see Ibrahim, Azeem, The Rohingyas: Inside Myanmar’s Hidden Genocide (London: C. Hurst & Co. Publishers Ltd., 2018).

176

G. TAHIN

Rakhine province in the north of Myanmar.7 The report argued that ‘the evidence … infers genocidal intent on the part of the State’ from the army’s ‘widespread and systematic killing of women and girls, the systematic selection of women and girls of reproductive age for rape, attacks on pregnant women and on babies, the mutilation and other injures to their reproductive organs’. The fact-finding mission also found that the soldiers from Myanmar physically injured and left ‘branded’ some of its female victims ‘by bite marks on their cheeks, neck, breast and thigh’. The UN claimed that the ‘majority of the sexual violence reported in Rakhine, Kachin and Shan was directed at women and girls who were beaten, burned with cigarettes, slashed with knives, gang raped, raped and held as sexual slaves on military bases’. The fact sheet compiled by the fact-finding mission, entitled ‘Sexual Violence as a Tactic of War’ explains that the ‘report also documents cases of rape, forced nudity and the sexual torture of men and boys’. When the report was published, the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights said that the evidence contained in the report amounts to a ‘textbook example of ethnic cleansing ’. Suu Kyi delivered her speech within this political and legal context. She argued that the army’s actions could be attributed to reasons other than the deliberate and planned destruction of the Rohingya minority, saying that ‘surely, under the circumstances, genocidal intent cannot be the only hypothesis ’. I will first provide a summary of the speech and then show the kind of strategy the speaker adopts to ‘defend the undefendable’, as some of her critics claim. At the beginning of the speech, Suu Kyi immediately focuses her argument on why ‘invoking the 1948 Genocide Convention is a matter of utmost gravity’. She underlines the significance of the accusations by citing similar cases from previous decades, such as the 1994 Rwandan genocide or the displacement of ethnic Kosovar Albanians in the 1998– 1999 Kosovo war. She implies that the evidence in the present case does not meet the high threshold required to fulfil the criteria of genocide. Right from the start, Suu Kyi seeks to establish the character of a careful and objective examiner of facts, whose sole purpose is to find the truth sine ira et studio, without anger and subjectivity. Adopting an almost didactic style of a university lecturer, she presents a detailed historical 7 The report and its summary can be accessed at https://www.ohchr.org/en/ hrbodies/hrc/myanmarffm/pages/index.aspx; and https://www.ohchr.org/EN/NewsEv ents/Pages/DisplayNews.aspx?NewsID=24868&LangID=E.

8

MODERN ORATORY

177

account of events. She points out that ‘the troubles of Rakhine State and its population, whatever their background, go back into past centuries and have been particularly severe over the last few years’. This claim is fundamental because it broadens the factual context of the argument to a scale which is almost impossible to argue against meaningfully. The speaker achieves two aims by expanding the context of the case. First, she can implicitly argue that the opposition (and the UN fact-finding mission) left out important details when presenting their case, thereby appearing untrustworthy. Second, by adopting a seemingly more measured and comprehensive viewpoint required by the intricate conflict, she can ‘dilute the pool’ of available information, thereby reducing the significance and severity of the allegations. Suu Kyi then explains that decades of conflicts between the Arakan Army, an organised Buddhist armed group, Myanmar Defence Services and the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army (ARSA) escalated on 25 August, 2017. On that day, the country’s military, in response to allegedly coordinated attacks by ARSA fighters on more than 30 police posts and villages, carried out concerted and wide-ranging attacks on Rohingya communities. As a result of these attacks, 700,000 ethnic Rohingya fled over the border to neighbouring Bangladesh, reporting deliberate and brutal violence against the population. In the course of her argument, Suu Kyi makes painstaking efforts to appear an objective expositor of facts she believes were withheld or distorted by the opposing side. At one point, she embarks on a linguistic exegesis of a key term used by the military, ‘clearance operation’—‘nae myay shin lin yeh’ in Myanmar language—, the meaning of which she claims to have been misrepresented to apply to acts of ethnic cleansing and genocide. She also takes great pains to emphasise the efforts of the military to avoid ‘the use of air power in military operations … as far as possible to minimise the risk of collateral damage’. At this point, Suu Kyi states what can be regarded as one of the central theses of her argument. So far, she has put forward a positive case for the military’s action and did not concede that any accusations might be true. To avoid the charge of completely ignoring the evidence contained in the UN report and thus risking her perceived credibility, she states ‘it cannot be ruled out that disproportionate force was used by members of the Defence Services in some cases in disregard of international humanitarian law, or that they did not distinguish clearly enough between ARSA fighters and civilians’.

178

G. TAHIN

The concession that members of the military could have acted unlawfully is carefully phrased to avoid the impression that it may amount to an admission of guilt. Suu Kyi insists that the military justice system in the country functions well and any member of the armed forces who committed human rights violations ‘will be prosecuted through our military justice system, in accordance with Myanmar’s constitution’. The speaker clearly anticipates potential doubts among audience members about the rule of law and the accountability and effectiveness of the legal procedures against soldiers and counters it effectively with an argument that has anti-colonialist overtones. She says that ‘it would not be helpful for the international legal order if the impression takes hold that only resource-rich countries can conduct adequate domestic investigations and prosecutions, and that the domestic justice of countries still striving to cope with the burden of unhappy legacies and present challenges is not good enough.’ The above warning about the need for external parties to accept domestic accountability marks the transition towards the closing remarks of the speech, where the speaker refers to her initial technique of expanding the context of reference for the accusation of genocide in an attempt to ‘dilute’ the set of facts required to assess the charge of genocide. In the final sections of the speech, Suu Kyi embarks on a passionate plea for her country. She appeals to the idea of ‘planetary citizenship’ as a notion ‘of fundamental importance for peaceful relations between nations as well as ethnic and religious groups’. This short section might appear oddly irrelevant to the case at hand, but it is firmly part of Suu Kyi’s overall strategy in the speech. The speech closes with strongly apologetic claims about efforts to improve the lives of minorities in Myanmar, and the Rohingya in particular, with a sincere vow: ‘We shall adhere steadfastly to our commitment to non-violence, human rights, national reconciliation and rule of law, as we go forward to build the Democratic Federal Union to which our people have aspired for generations past.’ The speech, overall, displays a sophisticated strategy, which builds heavily on the speaker’s reputation as a former champion of political and human rights. It involves elements of ‘the thematic replacement’ heureme in relation to what should be the matter of consideration for the International Court of Justice, the ‘representativeness’ heureme in an attempt to identify the respective parties in the conflict in a way that is favourable to the speaker’s case and ‘contrastive probabilities’ to characterise the actions of the army and its opponents from a perspective which evenly apportions

8

MODERN ORATORY

179

blame between the opposite parties. The main feature of the strategy, as explained earlier, is expanding in the name of objectivity the pool of evidence and arguments (for example, about the question of genocidal intent) for the jury to consider, which could potentially reduce the significance of the Myanmarese army’s actions or alter their legal interpretation. The expansion takes place temporally (going back to the British Colonial rule in Burma), geographically (‘There were armed incidents in more than 60 locations’), in terms of the parties in the conflict (the Arakan Army, the Myanmar Defence Services and the Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army) and legally (an armed conflict which threatens Myanmar’s territorial integrity). The overall effect of the argument is, in contrast to what critics claim as denying serious ethnic violence, the impression that the opposition takes events and facts in isolation and without critical considerations, thereby distorting the interpretation of the evidence. On the other hand, the defence presents their case with utmost precision and the required legal standard, taking into account the widest range of evidence necessary to reach a well-informed and fair judgement.

6

Pope Francis: ‘Address to the United Nations General Assembly’

The penultimate speech in the selection may seem oddly different from the previous ones. It was delivered by a religious figure, Pope Francis, in front of an audience of heads of states and governments in the United Nations General Assembly, where the Vatican has an observer status instead of full membership. The speech was presented at the United Nations Headquarters, New York, on Friday 25 September, 2015.8 Its central theme was to promote environmental justice over a ‘boundless thirst for power and material prosperity’. Pope Francis, who demonstrated on many occasions his concern for the natural environment, was invited to speak at the UN Sustainable Development Summit, at which the member states adopted seventeen Sustainable Development Goals. The goals ‘provide a shared blueprint for peace and prosperity for people and the planet’, and the speech reflects on the challenges world leaders face to achieve these goals and how to overcome them.

8 The text of the speech can be accessed at https://www.vatican.va/content/francesco/ en/speeches/2015/september/documents/papa-francesco_20150925_onu-visita.html.

180

G. TAHIN

Pope Francis’ UN address has many standard features of ‘stately’, demonstrative oratory. However, viewing it as a respectful but vacuous piece of rhetoric merely conforming to formal expectations without ‘having a real bite’ would be a mistake. The speech’s strategy and message are far from conventional. After a short summary of the key themes, I will concentrate on the argumentative strategy, aware that the ideas and the reasoning in which they are embedded cannot easily be separated. The central premise of the speech looks relatively straightforward. The pope argues that only united and bold action, supported by a comprehensive understanding of the world’s problems and a firm commitment to human rights, ethical principles and spiritual needs, can meet the environmental, social and economic crisis the world faces in the twenty-first century. The main challenge for any ecclesiastical person speaking at such a global event is to avoid being viewed as a benign but ultimately ineffective political actor, ‘a voice of one crying out in the desert’. Like any representative of a large institution, the pope faced significant constraints on what he could say and how. He was expected to speak for the fundamental religious and social teachings of the Catholic Church, towards which many from the audience must have shown polite scepticism or hostility. At the same time, he wanted to fulfil the main objective of his speech, giving moral and spiritual support for world leaders to take radical action in the current environment and social crisis. The head of the Catholic Church begins with the obligatory round of complements to the Secretary General and those present at the General Assembly, after which he moves on to praise the achievements of the UN and its agencies. The customary pleasantries gradually and almost imperceptibly (marked by the clause ‘reform and adaptation to the times is always necessary’) give way to the bulk argument proper. The pope sets out the principles he believes are required to address the crisis the General Assembly intended to tackle. The principles the pope was advocating were not new. The theological framework creates a unified and interrelated view of these religious-moral principles, making them look different in the UN assembly. It is the coherent fusion of ethical values and principles with social and environmental concerns which gives the argument its force. The success of Pope Francis’s strategy rests on his ability to draw up a systematic, consistent, broadly appealing, yet radical vision of ethical thought and action in response to worldwide environmental and social challenges.

8

MODERN ORATORY

181

The central strand of Pope Francis’ argument rests on the notion of ‘the rule of law, based on the realisation that justice is an essential condition for achieving the ideal of universal fraternity’. Social justice requires the ‘effective distribution of power’, which also demands that ‘rights … be forcefully affirmed’. The attentive listener at this point might notice with some bafflement that Pope Francis focuses on society and ethical principles and apparently ignores the problem of environmental destruction. The answer to this conundrum is the argument which takes humans and the environment in unity. As he argues, ‘we human beings are part of the environment. We live in communion with it, since the environment itself entails ethical limits which human activity must acknowledge and respect. … Any harm done to the environment, therefore, is harm done to humanity. … every creature, particularly a living creature, has an intrinsic value, in its existence, its life, its beauty and its interdependence with other creatures’. The idea that human society and the natural world are one, while theological in its origin, gives the argument a unique angle to discuss the root causes of environmental problems. The arc of the argument stretches across crucial themes related to social development and environmental protection, and every theme can be traced back to this single idea. The next step in the argument is to connect environmental destruction with social and economic exclusion and inequality. ‘Destruction of the environment is also accompanied by a relentless process of exclusion - a selfish and boundless thirst for power and material prosperity leads both to the misuse of available natural resources and to the exclusion of the weak and disadvantaged…’. The speech so far remains at a largely theoretical and critical level. The speaker, most likely aware that the moralising tone and theme could quickly lose him the audience, applies another strategic technique for the speech. In order to avoid fatiguing the listeners’ fatigue, he alternates pragmatic advice for government leaders on various issues relevant to the UN Developmental Goals with ethical, social and theological instruction which grounds the advice. Alternating practical and abstract themes, the pope expands the topics of his address as he moves from social issues affecting individuals to environmental problems and global challenges, such as nuclear weapons, narcotics and the arms trade, human trafficking and corruption. A few short extracts from the speech demonstrate how the alternating pattern of argument adds thematic and stylistic variation to the

182

G. TAHIN

theoretical-moral depth, thereby creating a middle way between religious sanctimony and technocratic pragmatism. ‘Our world demands of all government leaders a will which is effective, practical and constant, concrete steps and immediate measures to preserve the natural environment and thus putting an end to social and economic exclusion’—‘leaders must do everything possible to ensure that all can have the minimum spiritual and material means needed to live in dignity and to create and support a family’—‘fight against exclusion demand that we recognise a moral law written into human nature itself’—‘here is a need to ensure the uncontested rule of law and tireless recourse to negotiation, mediation and arbitration’—‘There is urgent need to work for a world free of nuclear weapons, in full application of the non-proliferation Treaty, in letter and spirit, with the goal of a complete prohibition of these weapons’.—‘The common home of all men and women must continue to rise on the foundations of a right understanding of universal fraternity and respect for the sacredness of every human life’—‘The future demands of us critical and global decisions in the face of worldwide conflicts’. The purpose of the speech, in the pope’s words, was to argue for the need ‘to give priority to actions which generate new processes in society’, because ‘the future demands of us critical and global decisions in the face of worldwide conflicts’. A good way to understand the speaker’s strategy is to appreciate first the rhetorical situation and his position. The speaker, whom the UN Secretary General invited, commanded a great deal of moral and religious authority, yet he was without ‘worldly’ power. Some of the audience might have even been hostile to the pope for representing a religious faith and organisation, which they probably saw as disagreeable or downright harmful. Therefore, Pope Francis’ challenge was to translate his spiritual and moral capital, presented in fairly abstract theological language, into an argument strong enough to effect concrete and urgent action. The overall strategy of the speech may not seem very clear at first hearing or reading, but it can be reconstructed in broad outlines. The pope sets out the moral-theoretical framework at the beginning of the speech, combined with a historical overview of the UN’s seventy years of history. This framework gives a solid logical grounding for the argument from a philosophical viewpoint, which may be minimally acceptable by the majority of the audience. The framework is not presented in isolation, but as complementary to the principles of the UN Charter. As a result of this

8

MODERN ORATORY

183

initial move, the pope can avoid the charge of partisanship and project a measured treatment of his subject. Another essential element of Pope Francis’ strategy is creating an apparent paradox at the start by rejecting the notion of ‘right of the environment’. The paradox generates a momentary surprise and perplexity at a crucial point in the speech. It draws the audience’s attention to the core idea of the argument, the inseparable bond between humanity and the environment, without appearing to be overly philosophical and academic. In the argument proper, the pope stays tightly focused on his objective of urging world leaders to take action against social ills and environmental destruction. The argument balances carefully between the political, social, ethical and legal framework underwritten by the UN Charter, and church documents and a comprehensive account of global crises and challenges that the pope believes must be addressed to prevent social and environmental catastrophe. There is always a certain ‘danger’ that the pope lapses into theological-theoretical lecturing. However, he always returns to his call for action (‘The present time invites us to give priority to actions’). He preserves the relevance of his argument by painstakingly naming and listing problems (e.g. ‘Drug trafficking is by its very nature accompanied by trafficking in persons, money laundering, the arms trade, child exploitation and other forms of corruption…’). The pope’s argumentative strategy creates an elaborate theoretical framework to advocate action. To balance the abstractness of Catholic theological reasoning, he draws up a comprehensive account of problems and challenges, the solution of which assumes the acceptance of the principles laid down earlier. The repeated direct appeals to action create a great sense of urgency and instil hope that solutions to the crises are possible.

7 Ursula Burns: ‘Speech for the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s 145th Commencement’ The final speech in the selection comes from a speaker who defied expectations about her race, status, ability and achievement. She is often hailed as a pioneer among female businesswomen at the helm of a global company. Ursula M. Burns, former chairman and chief executive officer of the Xerox Corporation, delivered her speech for the Massachusetts

184

G. TAHIN

Institute of Technology’s 145th Commencement on 3 June, 2011.9 The speaker was invited as a parent to one of the graduates and a leading American businesswoman. Burns served as CEO and chairwoman of Xerox, a global document management and business services company.10 She was the first African American woman to be CEO of a Fortune 500 company. Burns’ career is also notable in that US President Barack Obama appointed her to lead Change the Equation, a CEO-led non-profit programme to improve the provision and quality of science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM) in the US’ education system. Burns’ commencement speech is a classic example of a celebratoryepideictic address, in this case, a public address on graduation day. On the surface, it does not particularly stand out as a ground-breaking and inventive piece of oratory. The question in this brief analysis is whether Burns, while preserving the standard formula required by the genre and the occasion, applies any strategic or other heuristic tools to elevate her address to the level of unique and creative rhetoric. It is clear after a first reading that the speech contains many conventional elements of ceremonial oratory, which satisfy the standard criteria about what is expected on such an occasion. The general tone of the speech is optimistic, festive and congratulatory. Burns makes reference to her personal involvement in the event as a mother, advising students about the challenge they will face in their future careers and ways to overcome them. The speech is reasonably short, and its structure is transparent. After the usual compliments, Burns begins with a highly personal remark about the event’s significance for her and her family. ‘This is a very special day for our family. Our son Malcolm is among the undergraduates ….’. Having thanked the university’s president, faculty and staff, she moves on to giving advice to students, the context of which is that ‘We live in a world of both sobering challenges and awesome opportunities’. She lists as challenges the parallel wars in Iraq, Afghanistan and Syria, the state of the economy slowly recovering from the 2008 recession, the quality of the political culture in the US and the inadequacy of the education system in living up to the demands of the twenty-first-century economy. To balance out the challenges, Burns names three positive

9 https://news.mit.edu/2011/ursula-m-burnss-commencement-address. 10 https://www.britannica.com/biography/Ursula-Burns.

8

MODERN ORATORY

185

aspects of the present scenario, which she believes graduates should appreciate in considering the future. She highlights the US democratic system of government as the envy of the world, outstanding university education and, finally, the ability to innovate as the main reason young people should stay optimistic, despite the obvious challenges they face. The main body of the speech revolves around a series of pieces of advice to help guide graduates in their future careers. Individual recommendations are commonplace pieces of wisdom. They take up themes such as courage to face challenges, discovering opportunities, embracing change, preserving one’s integrity by adhering to a set of moral values, leaving the world a better place and pride in one’s achievements. A series of short quotes will demonstrate these themes and the general thrust of the argument. ‘So my first piece of advice to you is to not be discouraged…. we also have great opportunities. Despite the tremendous challenges you face, I implore you to embrace them. The truth is the world needs you as perhaps never before. We need your passion, creativity and drive’. ‘... embrace change and learning willingly and with a sense of excitement and wonder. … Learn to love it. Make it your ally’. ‘You should also have fun. Enjoy life. Choose a career that gives you pleasure and fulfillment’. ‘Your family … MIT … your church or synagogue or mosque or mountaintop … have given you a set of core values — a moral compass. Hang on to it’. ‘Set your sights on changing the world — in leaving this planet a little better than you found it. … Believe in something larger than yourself. Make a difference’. ‘All of you should feel very, very proud’. The quotes above might give the impression that the speech is merely a standard, middle-of-the-road valediction delivered more to enliven the celebratory atmosphere than to leave a lasting impression on the listeners and readers. While there is truth in the assumption that the speech conforms to traditional themes and conventions, it arranges these standard elements into a strategic pattern, thereby endowing the speaker and the listeners with a unique, rhetorical identity. The essence of Burns’ strategy is using in part her personal ‘capital’ as a successful black businesswoman and engineer in a heavily understated manner, i.e. without making explicit reference to it. With this ‘reputational capital’, she establishes a direct, instant and close connection between herself and the audience, communicating her advice in a rich, multi-layered sense. Let me spell out the outlines of Burns’ strategy.

186

G. TAHIN

In the beginning, the businesswoman appears to follow all the conventions of a festive commencement speech without making any reference to her status. The first time she refers to herself is not within the context of her position as a chairwoman of a global company but as a mother. Mentioning her son, sitting in the audience, comes an almost random, off-hand point. It also appears surprising and incongruent with the expectations of the audience, who would most likely have seen Burns as a CEO and chairwoman of the Xerox company, not as a mother. The apparent puzzlement that Burns’ reference to her involvement in the event arises from the fact that being a mother of a graduate does not usually justify someone to be the main guest speaker of any academic institution, let alone the MIT. The placement of this claim is, however, entirely deliberate. The move immediately eliminates the gap which separates the potential difference in status and reputation between the speaker and the rest of the audience, students and others present. Claiming her position as a proud mother of a graduate in the audience establishes a close link of familiarity, trust and closeness, which her perceived status would not have achieved. From this point onwards, Burns assumes multiple personas while preserving her voice as a mother advising the graduates as her own children. The persuasiveness of the advice section is derived from the initial personal note, and it grounds the force of the instructions she is giving. Burns appears as a mother, a successful businesswoman, a government advisor on STEM education and a powerful speaker. She does not explicitly refer to herself as a businesswoman, advisor to the US president or a professional speaker, only as a mother. She takes up the mother’s persona right from the beginning and reinforces it afterwards (‘I have a great sign that hangs on the wall of my office: “Don’t do anything that wouldn’t make your Mom proud!”’). This way of addressing the graduates suggests that the parental voice underwrites the argument. The mother’s persona dominates and supports the other ones, which gain their persuasiveness only on the basis of the motherly (justified, but not necessarily effective) argumentum ex auctoritate. Why was the focalisation of the speaker’s image as a mother essential? Burns’ advice to the graduates is thematically diverse but also generic. Slogans such as embracing ‘challenges’, ‘opportunities’ and ‘change’, choosing ‘a career for pleasure and fulfilment’, having a ‘moral compass’, and ‘fun’ and ‘making a difference’ come across as platitudes potentially alienating a highly educated and intelligent audience, regardless of the

8

MODERN ORATORY

187

speaker’s authority. Relying on her multiple personas as a businesswoman and government advisor with significant and genuine experience in the matters she addresses, the speaker can vouch for the advice’s effectiveness and fill the commonplaces with content. At the same time, the mother’s persona ensures that Burns’ argument directly addresses the audience in a way that is not overbearing. The strategy (and the effectiveness of the advice) rests on the interaction of the speaker’s different (partly stated, partly unstated) personas. It can be regarded as a version of the parallel probabilities heureme, which, as it happens in this case, relies on the plausibility of parallel personas (primarily that of a mother and CEO), which back up the individual piece of advice. A truly remarkable feature of Burns’ speech, despite the sophisticated strategy, is that its structure and style remain clear and straightforward, unburdened by the formalities which often accompany language on such celebratory occasions. In this case, as elsewhere, clarity and simplicity, as well as the ability to easily control multiple personalities, are the marks of a great orator.

CHAPTER 9

Heuristic Rhetoric in Modern Education and Society

In the book’s penultimate chapter, I will bring together some key ideas from heuristic rhetoric, with further suggestions about the practical use of the concepts. I will then broaden the discussion and add some notes on where rhetoric and oratory are situated today in education and public life, their role and whether they can acquire their appropriate status as an academic and practical discipline. The points raised here are neither new nor scholarly in the strict sense. The aim is to draw up an image of rhetoric from a viewpoint devoid of prejudice and hyperbole that academics and the ‘layperson’ can share equally, and to outline what rhetoric can and cannot achieve in education and society. The driving force behind this book is the idea that rhetoric, the skilled and persuasive use of language and argument, has a far more pervasive presence in modern society than is publicly acknowledged and accepted. Its power may be used productively to benefit people and society but also to justify or directly cause cataclysmic damage and destruction. The theoretical and practical sections of the book drew up a certain kind of system and method of rhetoric to support students in their endeavour to practise rhetoric at an advanced level. Heuristic rhetoric is not the only possible way to learn and do rhetoric, and for some, it may not seem the right approach. In order to dispel a misconception, it is necessary to stress again that heuristic rhetoric builds on the set of practical tools offered by classical rhetoric and its various modern © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_9

189

190

G. TAHIN

versions. The new approach expands the application of rhetoric through a conceptual framework which emphasises constant adaptation to the contingent elements of the rhetorical situation, strategic planning and the use of various patterns of reasoning. The new framework was developed to give central place to the ideas of contingency, strategic arrangement and temporality, which are present in classical and modern systems but do not receive the required attention in proportion to their importance in practical applications. The book’s central thesis is that rhetoric, ancient and modern, works most effectively if the orator can recognise down to the finest details the complexity, contingency and variability of the situation in which they deliver the argument(s). The orator’s training must also prepare them to acquire, creatively develop and adjust a range of rhetorical tools and strategic patterns of argument. They learn to constantly adapt the reasoning and style of the speech to changing, unpredictable and unexpected elements within the rhetorical situation, a process that can best be described by the term ‘heuristic’. This word carries the idea of finding, inventing and discovering by conscious effort and learning. The heuristic approach is a collection of different forms of thinking—critical, analytic, creative and productive—aided by mental models whose common focus is persuasion. Heuristic rhetoric provides a set of tools to respond to the demands of the rhetorical situation, understood as a matrix of facts, events, data and information relevant to the case at the centre of a dispute. The four principles of contingency, probability, temporality and strategic construction provide a framework for analysing the whole rhetorical situation and devising an appropriate argument. A clear understanding of the complexities affecting the case allows the orator to control the situation and deliver an argument that persuades most of the audience. Once the orator has mastery over the elements of the case, various patterns of reasoning, such as those exemplified by the six sets of heuremes (but not restricted to them), offer a framework to present a persuasive argument. A fundamental task of the orator is to view and analyse the case and the rhetorical situation in its complexity and dynamic. The mastery of these details gives the orator the confidence to argue their case in front of an audience. Whether simple or complex, the set of facts relevant to the situation is never permanent. Information becomes obsolete, and new information emerges. Heuristic thinking requires the ability to see the case, the argument and the speech constantly evolving before, during

9

HEURISTIC RHETORIC IN MODERN EDUCATION AND SOCIETY

191

and even after delivery. The successful orator will be able to manage the process of the speech’s evolution by anticipation and adaptation, supported by the use of flexible patterns of reasoning. Various features play a role in controlling the facts and the rhetorical environment. Each case has a factual base, and the orator should make constant judgements as to what information is relevant or when and where the information should be placed in the argument to have the strongest persuasive effect. The conscious, strategic selection, inclusion and placement of relevant information heavily determine the argument’s probability, which can be further reinforced by verbal and non-verbal clues signalling the plausibility of the orator’s delivery and their trustworthiness. The information base of the speech is not simply made up of the facts of the case in a narrow sense. When constructing the case, the orator considers the actual or potential arguments advanced by the opponent(s), the composition, views and prejudices of the audience, the dynamics of the case over a period of time, especially contingencies external and internal to the speech (which may appear unexpectedly and alter the course of the argument) and, last but not least, the temporal context and variables of the case. The orator uses facts, arguments, emotions, the perceived image of the orator and the rhetorical environment to persuade the audience. These factors are coordinated by a strategic plan which should be built to counter any potential eventuality effectively. Heuristic rhetoric views complexity not simply in terms of the set of facts connected with a single speech but as a matrix of speeches and arguments related to the case and therefore affecting the outcome. These speeches and arguments do not have to be close in time and space to the original one, but recognising their logical or thematic connections will help the orator master the facts of the case. I mentioned earlier that speeches delivered by candidates of different parties in an election campaign could be viewed as an example of such a matrix. The virtual reality of newspapers, radio, television, video streaming and social media platforms expands the potential rhetorical environment of a speech almost ad infinitum. The orator requires an acute sense of judgement to decide which elements of the information matrix are relevant, necessary or beneficial to persuade the audience. In critical cases, coordination within a team of professional speechwriters or between members of a team associated with the same case is necessary to manage the mass of information that might affect the case’s outcome.

192

G. TAHIN

Once the student has acquired an understanding of heuristic principles and patterns of reasoning, then they will continue to develop the skills necessary for practical applications. In the first instance, these skills come from the study of speeches from diverse cultural, geographical, political and historical backgrounds, speechmaking under controlled (i.e. classroom) conditions and finally, in real-life scenarios. Similar to other areas of learning and professional activity, acquiring and developing skills requires considerable time. Considering the comprehensive knowledge base of rhetoric in a broad sense and for specialised areas, such as law, business or corporate communications, it would take approximately five to ten years to reach an advanced level of practice. The concept of heuristic thinking and arguing assumes that advanced rhetorical skills do not simply involve the mechanical retrieval of knowledge but a creative adaptation and discovery of persuasive tools required by even the most volatile and unpredictable situations. At the highest level, experienced orators, in their area of operation, have a solid grounding in rhetorical theory, classical and modern. They can deploy the widest variety of rhetorical and argumentative strategies with flair and at the level of ‘unconscious competence’ to win a particular case. Orators at the pinnacle of their ability will have also developed their rhetorical personas and ‘trust capital’ to the degree that they exert significant persuasive force even before uttering a single word. In the modern world, rhetorical personas are built from a mixture of the orator’s reallife appearance and impressions, and their digital image composed of online presence and interactions on the internet, specifically on social media platforms. However obvious it may sound, developing a rhetorical persona involves years of concentrated study and careful, reflective practice, devoting particular attention to earning trust and a reputation for honesty, loyalty, empathy and integrity. At an advanced level of practice, for example, in international politics, even the slightest error, misstep or careless online post could destroy the orator’s reputation and career. A fundamental question for any rhetoric-related study is where and how the student can use the knowledge and skills learnt during the course. Before answering those questions, I need to say a few words about how the study of rhetoric might fit into the broader academic curriculum. Currently, rhetoric is not widely offered as a stand-alone

9

HEURISTIC RHETORIC IN MODERN EDUCATION AND SOCIETY

193

academic subject in secondary and higher education worldwide.1 Rhetorical studies are mostly regarded as an adjunct to English, communication or business studies, argumentation theory or Classics. For financial and logistical reasons, this situation is understandable. However, considering the immense body of research on the subject and its fundamental importance for modern society, a much stronger case can be made for rhetoric as an independent field of academic study from undergraduate to Ph.D. level at universities and in secondary education. An argument in favour of rhetoric as an independent subject could be advanced along two lines. First, it should be pointed out that as a subject, rhetoric provides an excellent combination of practical skills and theoretical knowledge with a solid foundation for the arts, humanities and specific areas of applied science. Its flexible curriculum can be easily adjusted to any academic institution’s teaching and research profile, the demands and expectations of students and the requirements of local, national and international labour markets. One of the strongest arguments for the study of rhetoric as an independent, stand-alone subject is its extensive scale of applicability and (if used responsibly) its benefits to society. I will list just a few areas where rhetorical knowledge and skills have direct and practical applications: the practice of politics (public appearances, campaigns and parliamentary work), diplomacy, mediation and conflict resolution, international organisations, public relations, media and communication, marketing, business management and leadership, intelligence services, legal practice, education, the public communication of science, religious ministry and health care. The extent of areas where advanced rhetorical and argumentative skills are in demand is vast, especially considering the amplifying effect of social media, television, radio, the press and visual marketing. For some, the apparently infinite size of applications proves that rhetoric lacks substance. One way to counter this argument is to show that there is a core knowledge in rhetoric centred on creating and delivering verbal, textual and visual pieces of persuasion, which requires a self-standing curriculum. At the same time, due to its rich network of connections with other areas of knowledge, rhetoric works well in tandem with numerous academic

1 There are a number of exceptions. For graduate programmes in rhetoric in Europe and the United States, see https://rhetoricsocietyeurope.eu/rhetoric-programs-in-europe/ and https://www.rhetoricsociety.org/aws/RSA/pt/sp/graduate_programs.

194

G. TAHIN

subjects in a multi-disciplinary environment and supports practical applications. However, due to the general nature of the rhetorical curriculum, it should be complemented by the relevant specialist training in several areas, for example, business, law and religious ministry. The power (and danger) of possessing advanced rhetorical skills comes not simply from knowing how to construct a persuasive speech for delivery. One of the fundamental aspects of rhetorical ability is the deliberate and highly conscious use of language. Like creative writing, this ability can be taught to an extent. However, true excellence develops with years of immersion in and conscious study of a wide variety of high-quality examples, from oratory through lyric poetry and political texts to popular science writing. Another essential but often overlooked quality necessary for powerful rhetoric is the ability to speak with total conviction about one’s chosen topic. This ability cannot simply be learnt through rhetorical education but precedes it. The orator’s conviction becomes effective only if it is well-founded and genuine, and does not get contaminated by fanaticism or hypocrisy. Therefore, the orator must carefully consider what commission they take on to avoid severe damage to their reputation and credibility. Finally, a few words about the position and role of rhetoric in modern society. As I explained in the introduction, rhetoric is in a strangely paradoxical position today, in which it is widely acknowledged that persuasion affects every possible aspect of modern life in a multitude of ways (both in real-life interaction and even more so in the virtual world), yet the word and the concept of rhetoric still count as taboo in public discourse. The reasons for this paradoxical state do not matter because rhetoric will always take a central role in society. However, much can be done to further a public rehabilitation of the subject. A sound, broadly accepted (but not uniform or ideological) rhetorical curriculum would be a positive development. Another significant improvement would be the emergence of a number of educated and trained public figures who use rhetoric as an art with a strong sense of responsibility and moral courage in the service of persuasion, mediation and reconciliation for the public good. Although these objectives may appear as long-term ideals, they are necessary to gain the recognition which rhetoric deserves. To close this chapter, I would like to quote a short section from Gorgias’ speech, The Encomium of Helen, which gives a succinct and powerful summary of some of the main thoughts I hoped to put forward

9

HEURISTIC RHETORIC IN MODERN EDUCATION AND SOCIETY

195

in this book.2 ‘(8) And if logos persuaded and deceived her soul, it is not on that account difficult to defend her and absolve her of responsibility, thus: logos is a great potentate, which by the smallest and most secret body accomplishes the most divine works; for it can stop fear and assuage pain and produce joy and make mercy abound. … (13) Persuasion belonging to logos shapes the soul at will: first the discourses of the astronomers, who by setting aside one opinion and building up another in its stead make incredible and obscure things apparent to the eyes of opinion; second, the necessary logoi in which one logos, written with techn¯e but not truthfully meant, delights and persuades a numerous crowd; and third, the competing logoi of the philosophers, in which speed of thought is shown off, as it renders changeable the credibility of an opinion. (14) The power of logos stands in the same relation (logos ) to the soul’s organisation as the pharmacopoeia does to the physiology of bodies. For just as different drugs draw off different humours from the body, and some put an end to disease and others to life, so too of logoi: some give pain, others delight, others terrify, others rouse the hearers to courage, and yet others by a certain vile persuasion drug and trick the soul’.

2 https://faculty.bemidjistate.edu/bdonovan/helen.html.

CHAPTER 10

Training for Heuristic Rhetoric

This chapter outlines a model skills-oriented academic curriculum for heuristic rhetoric. A complete curriculum has three levels in order of progression: theoretical, analytical and practical. The Theoretical Phase focuses on elements of classical rhetoric relevant to modern rhetorical reasoning. It also involves the demonstration of the principles of heuristic rhetorical reasoning, with an emphasis on adaptability to situational variables. The Analytical Phase demonstrates the application of heuristic principles in examples of real-life oratory. Applying principles to the analysis of actual examples of persuasion reinforces core skills of creating effective speeches. It also prepares the ground for heuristic reasoning in real life. The Practical Phase of the curriculum is dedicated entirely to practising the skills for preparing and effectively delivering speeches grounded in heuristic principles. The programme has one key element missing. The practice of oratory requires a real-life setting, a classroom, courtroom, stage, assembly or a meeting. The academic curriculum must be able to provide such an opportunity to complete the training. In the beginning, I explained that rhetoric is a vast field, and no one can master all its parts. The best the student can hope is to learn the elements that guarantee they will succeed in real persuasive situations. I will recommend a selection of subjects that provide a useful foundation. Nevertheless, the decision about elements of a specific academic © The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3_10

197

198

G. TAHIN

curriculum will always belong to the teacher and the student. No two teachers of rhetoric will agree on what subjects a curriculum should include, and they do not need to do so. There are always certain areas of learning that the majority of teachers will likely believe to be useful to know, but nothing has a sacred status. The choice (with the responsibility) belongs to the teacher and the student. Now let us start with the foundations of the training programme. Rhetoric is a practical subject. It is heavily interconnected with other areas of learning. In an ideal case, rhetorical studies should be built on a broad foundation of sciences, humanities and the social sciences. In Book XII of his Institutio Oratoria, Quintilian recommends the study of philosophy, law and history as essential for an orator. His choice today would be considered instructive but insufficient for the requirements of the modern age. A good orator in our time would be expected to have built his knowledge and skills on a broader foundation of areas connected with rhetoric. The areas closest to the subject matter of rhetoric are: philosophy (especially logic, metaphysics, epistemology, philosophy of language, philosophy of mind, ethics), cognitive and social psychology, argumentation theory, classics, history, law, politics and economics. To these, one may add other areas that an orator would need in specific roles, such as business, finance, sciences, engineering and the arts. In the real world, it is impossible to expect a university faculty or department to offer or a student to master even just some of these subjects in any meaningful depth. While there are serious limitations of time, resources and capacity, it is a genuine expectation that students want and will expand their knowledge throughout their studies and careers. The purpose of the foundational course is twofold. It aims to develop skills of abstract thinking and reasoning required to grasp complex political, legal and social issues and their causes, which a would-be orator would encounter in his or her work. It also gives the necessary vocabulary, mental models and tools to understand how people as individuals, as groups and as a society think and act in areas where rhetoric operates at an advanced level (that is, not simply as a wedding speechmaker). None of these subject areas are necessary in absolute terms, and it is likely that, in reality, few of them will be taught within one rhetorical programme. Nevertheless, aspiring orators, who are searching for a rounded education, would continuously seek to expand their cognitive skills and the foundational subjects allow them to do so.

10

TRAINING FOR HEURISTIC RHETORIC

199

Once (or while) the general foundations of rhetorical training are laid, the Theoretical Phase begins to cover the necessary theoretical knowledge for constructing arguments and speeches. Here teachers of rhetoric are likely to begin with an elementary overview of classical rhetoric, perhaps using as a template the Rhetorica ad Herennium or Aristotle’s Rhetoric. The main objective of this phase is to give a simple structural model of arguments, speeches and the rhetorical process. The principles to guide teachers and students should be practicality and functionality. Classical rhetoric is a vast field. Much material (such as the bewildering variety of stylistic figures) will not be directly relevant to the student. A general description of the classical branches of oratory (judiciary, deliberative/political and epideictic) could be useful areas to be covered in this section. The five standard elements of the rhetorical process invention, arrangement, style, memory and delivery must be covered here, too. A solid grounding in the five (six) main parts of the speech is strongly recommended as a next step. The students should receive a detailed explanation of the types of proofs for judicial, political and epideictic oratory. They will also benefit from a thorough introduction to rhetorical and logical arguments (induction, deduction, enthymemes, example and analogy). Other areas of classical rhetoric that may be especially useful for the modern student are the Aristotelian division of persuasive appeals (ethos, pathos and logos), a simplified introduction to stasis theory and the common topics. To demonstrate these topics, Aphthonius’ and Libanius’ Progymnasmata (and perhaps some of the declamations of the Elder Seneca) could be judiciously selected by the teachers. A final word of caution about teaching (and learning) Graeco-Roman rhetoric should be added. The classical system is remarkably clear and well-structured, making it an ideal entry point for rhetorical studies. Clarity and simplicity, however, have a potential downside. A perspicuous technical system may suggest to the student that mastering the details in an orderly fashion is not just a necessary but also a sufficient condition for effective rhetorical reasoning. This is obviously not the case. The classical system provides a superb description of an ideal rhetorical situation, centred on the parts of speech and the orator. The picture it imparts, however, is idealistic and static. It does not show how rhetoric works in action. The subsequent stages of the rhetorical curriculum expose the student to the often unregulated, uncertain and unstructured reality of actual argumentation. Therefore, the advice for the student is to ‘bracket’ the knowledge acquired so far and accept it only with the proviso that it

200

G. TAHIN

may apply to certain scenarios. However, equally, in some cases, it could be a hindrance. At this point, the student should have obtained a firm and broad grounding in rhetorical reasoning and built the conceptual framework necessary to add a range of issues related to public life and in particular areas of human activity. The next step is to introduce the principles of heuristic rhetoric. As a reminder, the key principles of heuristic rhetoric include contingency, probability, temporality and strategic construction. Apart from the four principles, heuristic rhetoric also presents six major types of heuristic strategy, which can be adapted to various argumentative situations. The main question is how to teach (and learn to use) the elements of heuristic rhetoric. To begin with, the student needs to confront at least two potential challenges. One is grasping the abstract and fluid nature of the heuristic principles and strategies, and learning to apply them in practice. The other is the seeming incompatibility of the classical and heuristic systems. Fortunately, both challenges can be met. In the first instance, the solution is embedded in part in the preparatory phase of the curriculum. One purpose of the foundation stage is to develop in the students the ability to work with abstract concepts (e.g. validity, fallacy, meaning, knowledge or moral virtue) and arguments through the study of a broad range of subjects in the humanities and social sciences (and ideally the natural sciences). Understanding these concepts and the arguments prepares the students for the higher-order thinking skills necessary to understand and apply the heuristic principles and strategies. Naturally, the foundation course will not solve every problem of understanding and application. Here, the teacher’s role becomes essential to explain and demonstrate the principles with practical examples. The second question is the relationship between classical and heuristic rhetoric. Classical rhetoric can be misconstrued as clear, systematic and practical in contrast with heuristic rhetoric, which may be regarded as abstract and a systematic. The contrast between the two systems is, to a great extent, simplified and artificial. An analogy will hopefully help. Let us imagine a school, primary or secondary. This school strives to educate its pupils to the best contemporary international academic standards in a modern learning environment while it adheres to certain traditional forms of schooling. Class teachers and pupils widely make use of computers, smart boards, information technology, artificial intelligence

10

TRAINING FOR HEURISTIC RHETORIC

201

and most recently, virtual worlds. At the same time, the school encourages children to develop neat handwriting, good mental arithmetic and basic skills in the arts, crafts and technology. In this case, traditional and modern systems of education work parallel, complementing each other. Similarly, we could imagine the two systems of rhetoric existing on a continuum. Heuristic rhetoric evolves out of the advanced practice of classical rhetoric (complemented by other, modern rhetorical approaches), which provides devices for strategic patterns of argumentation. Let us now return to the question of teaching heuristic rhetoric. When teaching the new theory, it is essential to consider its elements connected within a system. Every aspect of that system should be centred on the rhetorical situation, which is built on a case driven by a problem that requires persuasive reasoning to solve it. Once we learn to identify the rhetorical situation, the case and the objective of the rhetorical situation, we may begin the process of creating and delivering an argument. In this process, the principles of heuristic rhetoric, contingency, probability, temporality and strategic construction come into play to control elements of the rhetorical situation. In the beginning, the key skill to teach (and learn) is to identify as many details and aspects of the rhetorical situation as possible. The process may be made ‘mechanic’ to an extent (who? what? where? when? why? in what circumstances?), but personal experience, insight and attention to unusual details and angles of reasoning cannot be translated into a convenient formula. For example, in arguing a dispute between two nations, or two parties within a large conflict, the orator with a better grasp of the history, hidden causes and personal aspects of the case will have a greater advantage in finding a persuasive argument than the opposition. The curriculum then moves through the four principles, contingency, probability, temporality and strategic construction. Teaching these concepts poses an obvious challenge due to their abstract nature, especially in the case of contingency and temporality. One way to tackle the challenge is to introduce a basic common-sense idea of both, then gradually introduce a more complex application of both concepts. In the case of contingency, for example, we may start with a general definition, e.g. ‘an event or circumstance which might happen but cannot be foretold with certainty’. We then need to bring examples of specific contingencies in planning and delivering an argument. If some students may find the idea of contingency too abstract to work with, it may help to use the terms uncertainty or circumstances not in our control. If we use a specific

202

G. TAHIN

legal or political case, it is probably easy to find a number of factors and circumstances which are unknowable, unpredictable or uncontrollable by the orator. These may include how many details can be known with absolute certainty, what the opponents might argue or whether the orator will show his or her best form during delivery. The same method may be applied in the case of the idea of temporality. The concept can be demonstrated at a basic level by drawing up different (more or less overlapping parallel) timelines of events which are relevant to the case, together with the timeline of the argument in which earlier events are represented. The main point is to show that actual events have a specific temporal structure. These events can be projected in multiple ways onto the temporal structure of the argument, which acquires its own temporal form (length) in delivery. Heuristic principles may appear abstract and complicated at first sight, but graduated demonstration with clear, judiciously selected examples makes them perspicuous and practicable. Once the theoretical elements of the rhetorical system are mastered, we reach the second, Analytical Phase of the curriculum. This phase aims to demonstrate how the elements of rhetoric and the heuristic principles are applied to analyse complete examples of oratory in preparation for real-life persuasion. This phase helps bridge the gap between the theoretical and practical stages of learning. An analogy might be taken from medicine. In their first year, most medical students study anatomy. At the same time (or after passing the examination), students move on to take part in anatomy demonstrations performed on actual bodies, where they learn to identify specific organs. Once they qualify, trainee doctors will use their theoretical and ‘analytical’ knowledge of anatomy to identify and locate specific diseases. Similarly, in heuristic analysis, students will learn to identify patterns of reasons in real-life oratory and build core skills of drafting persuasive arguments before they have the training and experience for actual practice. In the Analytical Phase the students focus on understanding what makes a particular speech persuasive. Answering this question requires analysis of the rhetorical situation out of which the speech emerged. It is also necessary to uncover patterns of argument and explain how these patterns may or may not provide a good response to the challenges raised by the rhetorical situation. Finally, a thorough understanding of other, non-argument-based methods (for example, elements of style, ethos or

10

TRAINING FOR HEURISTIC RHETORIC

203

presentation) contributes to the speech’s persuasive effect. The objective is to develop a nuanced perception of crucial factors in the rhetorical situation and the complex argumentative patterns, style and delivery. In the Analytical Phase, students should read and analyse a considerable body of speeches, preferably in collaboration with their peers and teachers. The learning process fulfils two main objectives: acquiring advanced methods of analysis (structural, argumentative and stylistic) and learning sophisticated models of persuasive argument. The first reinforces and enhances the learning acquired in the Theoretical Phase and develops the critical acumen necessary to counter arguments from the opposition parties. The second objective grounds the ability to produce speeches by providing examples of patterns of arguments adaptable to multiple scenarios. A key question for teaching the Analytical Phase is the choice of speeches. The teacher must make the decision to select the type and quantity of speeches for study. Freedom of choice means that the teacher can adapt to the nature of the course, but careful judgement is necessary. I suggest a few points for consideration. The speeches should provide variety to cover as many possible rhetorical scenarios and challenges as possible. Variety is to be considered in historical and thematic terms. In a course with a general curriculum, speeches should represent the most outstanding examples of rhetorical reasoning from the history of philosophy, from ancient to modern times. Thematically, a teacher may consider as varied a selection as possible from politics, law, military, social issues, business and types of representative oratory (e.g. funeral orations). Genuine variety demands broad representation regarding geography, ethnicity, gender, worldview and religious affiliation. Students must realise the ubiquitous nature of rhetoric and the myriad forms it can take in life or various types of media. The speeches selected for analysis should never be seen as fully representative of the variety I have just described but as a starting point for the teacher or students. Whatever the choice, the basis of selection should be genuine variety and quality. Finally, adopting a—for want of a better term—‘contrarian’ approach is also useful. A teacher or student typically has a certain ideological, religious, social or political outlook. Adopting a contrarian approach means that the orator actively seeks out speeches which go against or contradict their outlook. For example, someone with a liberal outlook would naturally favour speeches from the champions of US Democratic politics, such as Robert F. Kennedy, Bill Clinton and Barack

204

G. TAHIN

Obama. A selection narrowly focusing on these orators gives excellent models of public oratory. However, it will also embed a certain type of political bias (not necessarily in the negative sense), which may not be capable of effectively handling rhetorical challenges (other than in a strongly adversarial manner). Therefore, such a selection is strongly recommended to include the oratorical output of other speakers from opposite political spectra, such as Ronald Reagan and Donald Trump. This approach originates from the classical practice of in utramque partem disputare, ‘arguing a case from opposite side’, and the practice of suasoriae, which taught how to argue opposite views. However, rather than looking at just the two opposite sides of the same issue, it teaches students to think about how arguments may be advanced in multiple, not necessarily two-sided, political, social or ethical contexts. The Theoretical and Analytical Phases lead to the final stage of the heuristic curriculum. The Practical Phase prepares the student for constructing and delivering speeches in real-life scenarios. A strong objection might be raised here. Debating societies in prestigious schools and universities has long proven to be the best form of preparation for rhetorical practice. Why is there any need for a new form of rhetorical instruction? The scepticism underpinning the objection is justified, but hopefully, it can be mitigated. The practice of formal debating and heuristic rhetoric should be seen as complementary. Debating uses and relies on rhetorical techniques and arguments. It does not offer a systematic rhetorical education. In practice, debating has a highly formal structure with rules and set scenarios, its themes focusing heavily on social, political, economic and ethical issues. Heuristic rhetoric does not assume that arguments are always delivered in such formal environments with established rules and cooperating participants. It works on the basis that rhetorical scenarios may be unpredictable not preparable, and rules may not be upheld. What happens in the Practical Phase? In simple terms, students compose and deliver speeches on set topics in pre-defined scenarios, using the theory, skills and models they acquired in the first two phases. Ideally, students will have the opportunity to complete several assignments of composition and delivery on a varied set of topics. A student may be required to work on cases which encompass legal, political, social, environmental, business or celebratory matters. Naturally, the cases cannot be overly technical, as students might lack the necessary depth of knowledge. Nevertheless, students are expected to develop a case as closely as possible

10

TRAINING FOR HEURISTIC RHETORIC

205

to a real-life scenario. Composition and delivery should not happen in a vacuum. A case should be developed in a scenario with a realistic form of opposition. Scenarios and cases can have such a degree of complexity that teams of students would be required to handle them. Classical rhetoricians may note here that the Practical Phase described above show considerable similarities to the declamatory exercises in Greek and Roman rhetorical schools. To an extent, the observation is correct, but there is a difference, which becomes apparent once I briefly explain the types of declamations. Declamations were an essential practical element of training would-be orators in the art of reasoning before they embarked on a career in law, politics or public administration. There were two types of exercises, controversia and suasoria. Controversia (‘disputes’, ‘debates’) involved an imaginary law, an intricate legal situation and a speech (or opposing speeches) with a fully developed argument to resolve the fictitious issue. Suasoria (‘persuasive or advisory speeches’) involved imaginary scenes where a mythical hero or historical figure debates with himself whether to take a course of action (e.g. the 300 Spartan soldiers at Thermopylae debate whether to retreat or take a stand against Xerxes’ Persian army.) Speeches composed during training in the Practical Phase are similar to classical declamations in that they involve a specific issue in a rhetorical situation and the delivery of an argument in response to the issue. The difference, which is not a difference in quality and can be explained to an extent by the distance in time, between the classical and the heuristic methods is scope, method and principles. Heuristic rhetoric represents a greater diversity of rhetorical theory and practice, and uses more extended skills and strategies, including elements of classical rhetoric. The main question for the Practical Phase is the choice of themes and the method of work for the students. As in the Analytical Phase, the teacher has considerable freedom in adapting topics and scenes to the nature of the course and the student’s requirements. For example, the rhetorical topics would be drawn from corporate and commercial scenarios in a course focused on business managers, leaders and directors. Practitioners and students of law, politicians, diplomats, civil servants and activists again require subject-specific topics. Training courses with a general focus may select a wider range of topics which do not require specialist knowledge. Topics should be engaging, challenging and gradually increasing in difficulty. The tasks should require students to apply all

206

G. TAHIN

the skills and models of argumentation they learnt in previous stages of the course. In order to help bridge the second and the third phases, it could be useful to use the speeches and their rhetorical context from the Analytical Phase and adapt them as topics which students need to address. It also helps to use an actual scenario, for example, speeches in a diplomatic negotiation or an actual trial, and ask students to compose speeches as if they were present. Three examples, each representing a separate field (international politics, law, business negotiations with political dimension), from most recent events may serve as an illustration of the type of topics which can be assigned. Students could, for example, study the recording of the opening speeches at the US–China negotiations in Anchorage, Alaska, and they compose responses to speeches by both the Chinese and American negotiators, taking up in turn the role of the opposite side. The second task requires that students study key elements of the case in the trial over the death of George Floyd and compose speeches for both the prosecution and defence. The last case would require students to study details of the problems with the Oxford-AstraZeneca vaccine supply to the European Union and make a representation for each party involved to resolve issues. The three examples I have just outlined are suggestive of the type of tasks students may be asked to complete for their practical training. The number of assignments depends again on the teacher’s judgement of the student’s time and ability. However, three to five pieces of fully prepared and delivered work would be a good general guide, which could then be adapted to the needs, abilities and skills of the students.

Bibliography and Recommended Readings

A Companion to Greek Rhetoric, ed. by Ian Worthington (Oxford: WileyBlackwell, 2010). A Companion to Roman Rhetoric, ed. by William Dominic and Jon Hall (Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2006). Alcidamas, The Works & Fragments, ed. by John V. Muir (London: Bloomsbury, 2001). Antiphon and Andocides, translated by Michael Gagarin and Douglas M. MacDowell, The Oratory of Classical Greece, Volume 1 (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1998). Aristotle, On Rhetoric: A Theory of Civic Discourse, translated by, with introduction, notes and appendixes, George A. Kennedy (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991). Azeem, Ibrahim, The Rohingyas: Inside Myanmar’s Hidden Genocide (London: C Hurst & Co Publishers Ltd, 2018). Bonner, S. F., Roman Declamation in the Late Republic and Early Empire (Liverpool: The University Press, 1949). Bostock, David, Plato’s Phaedo (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1986). Burke, K., A Rhetoric of Motives (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: University of California Press, 1969). Carey, C., Lysias: Selected Speeches (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989). ———, ‘Rhetorical Means of Persuasion’, in I. Worthington (ed.), Persuasion: Greek Rhetoric in Action (London and New York, 1994) 26–45. [Cicero], Rhetorica ad Herennium, translated by H. Caplan, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1989). © The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3

207

208

BIBLIOGRAPHY AND RECOMMENDED READINGS

Cicero, On the Ideal Orator, translated by James M. May and J. Wisse (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001). ———, Defence Speeches, translated by D. H. Berry, Oxford World Classics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008). Clark, D. L., Rhetoric in Greco-Roman Education (New York: University of Columbia Press, 1957). Clarke, M. L., Rhetoric at Rome, A Historical Survey (London: Cohen & West, 1953). Classen, C. J., ‘Ciceros Kunst der Überredung’, in B. Grange and O. Reverdin (eds.), Éloquence et rhétorique chez Cicéron, Entretiens sur l’antiquité classique, Bd. 28 (Vandoeuvres-Genève, 1982) 149–192. ———, Recht-Rhetorik-Politik, Untersuchungen zu Ciceros rhetorischer Strategie (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1985). Cockcroft, Robert, and Susan M. Cockcroft with Craig Hamilton and Laura Hidalgo Browning, Persuading People: An Introduction to Rhetoric 3rd ed. (Basingstoke and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014). Cope, E. M., The Rhetoric of Aristotle with a Commentary I (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1877). Corbett, Edward P. J., and Robert J. Connors, Classical Rhetoric for the Modern Student (Oxford: University Press USA, 1998). Craig, C. P., The Role of Rational Argumentation in Selected Judicial Speeches of Cicero, PhD Diss. (Chapel Hill, 1979). Dominik, William J. (ed.), Roman Eloquence: Rhetoric in Society and Literature (London and New York: Routledge, 1997). Dominik, William J., and J. Hall (eds.), A Companion to Roman Rhetoric (Malden, Oxford and Chichester: Wiley-Blackwell, 2006). Eemeren, F. H. van, and R. Grootendorst, Argumentation, Communication, and Fallacies: A Pragma-Dialectical Perspective (Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1992). Eemeren, F. H. van, and P. Houtlosser, ‘Strategic Maneuvering: Maintaining a Delicate Balance’, in F. H. van Eemeren and P. Houtlosser (eds.), Dialectic and Rhetoric: The Warp and Woof of Argumentation Analysis (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 2002). ———, ‘Strategic Maneuvering: A Synthetic Recapitulation’, Argumentation (2006) 20:381–392. Eemeren, F. H. van, R. Grootendorst, and S. Snoeck Henkemans (eds.), Argumentation, Analysis, Evaluation, Presentation (Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 2002). Edwards, M., and S. Usher, Greek Orators. Vol. 1. Antiphon and Lysias (Warminster and Chicago: Aris and Phillips, 1985). Gagarin, M. (ed.), Antiphon: The Speeches (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997).

BIBLIOGRAPHY AND RECOMMENDED READINGS

209

———, ‘Probability and Persuasion’, in I. Worthington (ed.), Persuasion: Greek Rhetoric in Action (London: Taylor and Francis, 2002) 49–57. Gaonkar, D. P., ‘Introduction: Contingency and Probability’, in W. Jost and W. Olmsted (eds.), A Companion to Rhetoric and Rhetorical Criticism (Malden, MA: Blackwell Publishing, 2006) 5–21. ———, ‘Contingency and Probability’, in Thomas O. Sloane (ed.), Encyclopedia of Rhetoric (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006). Gigerenzer, G., P. M. Todd, and the ABC Research Group, Simple Heuristics That Make Us Smart (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999). Gigerenzer, G., and C. Engel, Heuristics and the Law (Cambridge, London: MIT Press, in cooperation with Dahlem University Press, 2006). Glucker, J., ‘Probabile, Veri Simile and Related Terms’, in J. G. F. Powell (ed.), Cicero the Philosopher (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995) 115–143. Grimaldi, W. M. A., ‘A Note on the Pisteis in Aristotle’s Rhetoric 1354-1356’, American Journal of Philology 78 (1957) 188–192. ———, Aristotle’s Rhetoric, A Commentary I (New York, NY: Fordham University Press, 1988) 64–65. Hamblin, Ch. L., Fallacies (Newport News, VA: Vale Press, 2004). Heath, M. F., Hermogenes On Issues: Strategies of Argument in Later Greek Rhetoric (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1995). Heinrichs, Jay, Thank You for Arguing 4th ed. (New York: Crown Publishing Group, 2020). Hoffman, D. C., ‘Concerning Eikos: Social Expectation and Verisimilitude in Early Attic Rhetoric’, Rhetorica 26 (2008) 1–27. Jäger, W., Paideia: die Formung des griechischen Menschen (Berlin: W. de Gruyter, 1934). Kahneman, D., Thinking, Fast and Slow (London: Allen Lane, 2011). Kahneman, D., and A. Tversky, ‘Judgment Under Uncertainty: Heuristics and Biases’, Science 185 (1974) 1124–1131. Kahneman, D., P. Slovic, and A. Tversky, Judgement Under Uncertainty: Heuristics and Biases (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1982). Keith, William M., and Christian O. Lundberg, The Essential Guide to Rhetoric (Boston, New York, Bedford: St. Martin’s, 2008). Kennedy, G., The Art of Persuasion in Greece (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1963). ———, A New History of Classical Rhetoric (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1994). ———, Comparative Rhetoric: An Historical and Cross-Cultural Introduction (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997). Kirby, J. T., The Rhetoric of Cicero’s Pro Cluentio (Amsterdam: J. C. Gieben, 1990).

210

BIBLIOGRAPHY AND RECOMMENDED READINGS

Kuypers, Jim A., Bush’s War: Media Bias and Justifications for War in a Terrorist Age (Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2009). ———, ‘Framing Analysis from a Rhetorical Perspective,’ in P. D’Angelo and Jim A. Kuypers, (eds.), Doing News Framing Analysis (New York: Routledge, 2010), 286–311. Lausberg, H., Handbuch der Literarischen Rhetorik: Eine Grundlegung Der Literaturwissenschaft (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1990). Lynn, Steven, Rhetoric and Composition: An Introduction (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010). MacDowell, D. M., The Law in Classical Athens (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1995). ———, Demosthenes: On the False Embassy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). Maidment, K. J., Minor Attic Orators: In Two Volumes. 1, Antiphon, Andocides (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London: W. Heinemann, 1982). May, J. M. (ed.), Brill’s Companion to Cicero: Oratory and Rhetoric (Leiden, Boston: Brill, 2002). Michalewicz, Z., and D. B. Fogel, How To Solve It: Modern Heuristics (Berlin and Heidelberg: Springer, 2000). Most, G. W., ‘The Uses of Endoxa’, in D. J. Furley and A. Nehamas (eds.), Aristotle’s Rhetoric: Philosophical Essays (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1994) 172–173. Neumeister, Chr., Grundsätze der forensischen Rhetorik, gezeigt an Gerichtsreden Ciceros (München: Max Hueber, 1964). Nordling, John G., ‘Caesar’s Pre-Battle Speech at Pharsalus (B.C. 3.85.4): Ridiculum Acri Fortius ... Secat Res’, The Classical Journal Vol. 101, No. 2 (Dec.–Jan., 2005/2006) 183–189. Perelman, C., and L. Olbrechts-Tyteca (tr. by Wilkinson, J., & Weaver, P.), The New Rhetoric: A Treatise on Argumentation (Chicago: University of Chicago Press: 1969). Pólya, G., How to Solve It? (Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin, 1990). Porter, Stanley E. (ed.), Handbook of Classical Rhetoric in the Hellenistic Period (Leiden: Brill, 1997). Powell, J. G. F., and J. Paterson (eds.), Cicero the Advocate (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004). Quintilian, The Orator’s Education, Books 1–12, edited and translated by Donald A. Russell, Loeb Classical Library (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press: 2001). Reinhardt, T., Cicero’s Topica (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003). Seech, Z., Logic in Everyday Life: Practical Reasoning Skills (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth Pub. Co., 1988).

BIBLIOGRAPHY AND RECOMMENDED READINGS

211

Smith, E. R., and D. M. Mackie, The Handbook of Social Psychology (New York: Worth Publishers, 1995). Stroh, W., Taxis und Taktik: Die advokatische dispositionskunst in Ciceros Gerichtsreden (Stuttgart: Teubner Verlag, 1975). ———, ‘Worauf beruht die Wirkung ciceronisher Reden’, in J. Leonhardt and G. Ott (eds.), Wilfried Stroh: Apocrypha. Entlegene Schriften (Stuttgart: Steiner, 2000) 43–63. Tahin, G., Heuristic Strategies in the Speeches of Cicero, Springer Argumentation Library (Cham/Heidelberg/New York/Dordrecht/London: Springer, 2013). The Homeric Hymns: A Translation, with Introduction and Notes by Diane Rayor (Berkeley: California University Press, 2004). The Homeric Hymns, translated by Apostolos N. Athanassakis (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2020). The Oxford Handbook of Rhetorical Studies (Oxford Handbooks), ed. by Michael J. MacDonald (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017). Todd, S. C., A Commentary on Lysias, Speeches 12-16 (Oxford, New York: Oxford University Press, 2020). Truth, Sojourner, Ain’t I A Woman? Penguin Great Ideas (London: Penguin, 2020). Usher, S., Greek Oratory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000). Walton, D. N., Informal Logic (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989). ———, Fundamentals of Critical Argumentation (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006). Wilson, Christopher H., Homer, Iliad Books VIII and IX (Warminster: Aris and Phillips, 1996). Wisse, J., Ethos and Pathos from Aristotle to Cicero (Amsterdam: Hakkert, 1989). ———, ‘The Riddle of the Pro Milone: The Rhetoric of Rational Argument’, in J. G. F. Powell (ed.), Logos: Rational Argument in Classical Rhetoric (London: University of London, Institute of Classical Studies, 2007) 35–68. Worthington, I., C. Cooper, and E. M. Harris, Dinarchus, Hyperides and Lycurgus (Austin: University of Texas Press, 2001).

Index

A Alcidamas, 84 On those who write written speeches or On the Sophists , 29 ancient Greek and Roman oratory, 147 Antiphon, 57, 59, 132, 133, 147, 148 First Tetralogy, 57, 59, 60, 132, 133 On the murder of Herodes, 148–151 Aphthonius, 199 Aristotle, xiv, xvi, 3, 4, 6, 12, 13, 21, 22, 26, 57 aret¯e, 166 eunoia, 166 phron¯esis , 166 Rhetoric, xiv, 21, 26 the three modes of persuasion, 27 three major factors for the orator’s consideration of emotions, 6 Attic Orators, 4 Aung San Suu Kyi

2019 Defence of Myanmar and its military, 175–179 strategy, 176, 178

B Beech, Carl, 63, 64 Bostock, David, 10 Philosophical Commetary on Plato’s Phaedo, 10 Bush, George H.W. 1989 Speech in Hungary, 34 Bush, G.W., 67

C Caesar, Julius, 114, 152 Character and Moral Responsibility of the Orator, 26 Cicero, xvi, 3–5, 22, 37, 61, 64, 77, 105, 107, 123, 124, 130, 137, 138, 148, 152–155 Defence of T. Annius Milo, 37 classical rhetoric, 3 argumentatio, 104

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive license to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2022 G. Tahin, Heuristic Rhetoric, Rhetoric, Politics and Society, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-98482-3

213

214

INDEX

arrangement of materials, 6 delivery of the speech, 6 dispositio, 104 preparation of the speech, 6 progymnasmata, 8 proofs, 7 artificial and non artififcial proof, 7 relationship between Classical and Heuristic Rhetoric, 4 staseis , 111 style, 6 the standard theory of issues conjecture, 7 definition, 7 quality, 7 transferring, 7 topoi, 108 Clinton, Bill, 203 contingency, 45, 50 created by the orator, 45 of delivery, 50, 51 Corbett, Edward P.J., 109 credibility of the orator, 79 criticism of rhetoric, 45 D dynamis , 61 E eikos , 55 Elder Seneca, 199 ¯ethos , 80 events and timescale after the speech’s delivery, 91 immediate reaction of audience after the speech’s delivery, 91 long-term perspective after the speech’s delivery, 93 medium-term consequences of the speech’s delivery, 92

F four technical principles for the overall structure of a speech, 66 balance, 66 language, 66 length, 66 framing, 13 G Guterres, Antonio, 110 H Haldane, John, 101–103 Hermogenes, 3 Heuremes, 121–123, 142, 143 contrastive probabilities, 143, 155 contrastive probabilities strategy, 134 flexibility, 122 initial adjustment, 123, 124 parallel probabilities, 136 representativeness, 125 simplification, 139 thematic replacement, 129 Heuristic Rhetoric, 19 aim, 19 background, 11 heuristic process, 25 heuristic thinking, 23, 24 principles contingency, 22, 29 contingency, delivery, 30, 36 contingency, language and argument, 30, 34 contingency, preliminary, 30, 31 contingency, related to ‘people’, 32 contingency, uncertainty, 29 probability, 22 temporality, 22

INDEX

strategic Arrangement, 22 training program, 197 analytical phase, 197, 202–206 contrarian approach, 203 practical phase, 197, 204 practical phase, controversiae and suasoriae, 205 theoretical phase, 197 variety, 203 heuristic rhetoric expectations to the orator’s performance, 48 historical perspective, 86 Hitchens, Christopher, 101–103 Homer, 72, 75

J Johnson, Boris, 163

K Kahneman, Daniel, 122 kairos , 84 Kennedy, Robert F., 203

L Libanius, 199 loci, 8, 62 Lysias, 65, 77, 96, 98, 99, 150 Against Agoratus, 98 Against Eratosthenes, 65, 98

M Macron, Emmanuel, 40, 42, 163 2017 Speech on Pnyx Hill in Athens, 40 Mao, Zedong, 171–175 1959 Speech at the Lushan Conference of the Chinese Communist Party, 171

215

argument, 172, 174 language and themes, 173 purpose, 174 strategy, 174 May, Theresa, 36, 37 2017 Address to the Conservative Party’s Conference, 36 Merkel, Angela, 163 2020 television speech at the height of the Coronavirus pandemic, 163 modern oratory, 157 Momoa, Jason, 110

N narrative, 95 in classical rhetoric, 96 temporal structure of, 96

O Obama, Barack, 87, 89, 157–159, 161, 162, 184, 204 Speech at Election Night, 2008, 157, 158 oratory, ix, xii, 46 Orbán, Viktor, 127 ordo Homericus , 106

P paradox or paraprosdokian, 45, 46 pithanon, 55, 60 endekhomenon pithanon, 61 Plato, 10, 57 Pope Francis, 80, 179 2015 speech on Environmental Justice at the United Nations General Assembly, 169 probabile, 55 probabile e causa, 62 probabile e vita, 62

216

INDEX

probabilistic arguments, 25, 26, 58–60 probability, 53 plausability of the speech, 66 probability of argument, 55 public speechmaking, 39 declamations, 8 Putin, Vladimir Crimean Speech, 167 critics of the speech, 170 main Argument, 167 parallel worlds reasoning, 170 strategic ambiguity, 169 Q Quintilian, xvi, 3, 4, 8, 22, 27, 36, 61 Institutio Oratoria, 27, 34, 108, 198 orator bonus , 27 R rationality, 13 Reagan, Ronald, 204 Rhetoric, 46 Rhetorica ad Alexandrum, 60, 62 Rhetorica ad Herennium, 21, 61, 199 rhetorical training, 199 rhetoric in the modern world, 9, 11 modern theories of argumentation, 18 real Life Rhetoric, 18 rhetoric as an academic subject and art, 10 three meanings of rhetoric, 4 Rodolfo, 115 S Sagoyewatha, 78 Savile, Jimmy, 63, 64

Soros, George, 127–129 strategic construction, 96, 101 in Classical Rhetoric and Oratory, 104 manipulation, 115 surprise as rhetorical device, 45, 46

T temporal elements of delivery, 90 temporality, 83 external aspects, 86 internal aspects, 95 temporal structure of a speech, 98 clear framework, 98 logical and temporal order of narrative, 99 theoresai, 61 Thunberg, Greta, 110 timing, 40, 42 Trump, Donald, 46, 67, 68, 81, 91, 92, 118, 140, 157–162, 174, 204 2017 US Presidential Inauguration ceremony speech, 157 speech at Rally in Greenville, North Carolina, 39 Tversky, Amos, 122

V van Eemeren, Frans H. Strategic Manoeuvring difference to Classical Rhetoric, 13 three dimensions within rhetorical arguments, 13 veri simile, 55

X Xi, Jinping, 118