The Power of Words and Duty to Country

Richard Goodwin (left), Jack Valenti, and President Johnson
January 12, 1966 (The White House/AP Photo)

Richard Goodwin, who was among the most talented and prolific speechwriters in American history, dedicated his life from 1960 to 1965 to two American presidents—John F. Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson. He understood the power of words to move a nation and, more importantly when it came to legislation, move Congress. Goodwin was a “Kennedy man” with a Harvard pedigree, but following Kennedy’s assassination in November 1963, Johnson persuaded Goodwin to remain on the White House staff. For the next two years, Goodwin crafted the words behind Johnson’s most impactful speeches on civil rights, voting rights, and the Great Society, giving voice to the president’s determination to raise America to unreached heights of equality and fairness.

“I speak tonight for the dignity of man and the destiny of democracy. Our mission is at once the oldest and the most basic of this country. To right wrong, to do justice, to serve man.” Starting with these simple and powerful words, spoken eight days after “Bloody Sunday,” when state troopers violently attacked a group of peaceful marchers on the Edmund Pettis Bridge in Selma, Alabama, Johnson spoke before a Joint Session of Congress to urge passage of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. The nation had before endured “moments of great crises,” Johnson declared, “[b]ut rarely in any time does an issue lay bare the secret heart of America itself.” Johnson’s words were direct, morally compelling, and set forth what was at stake – “the values and the purposes and the meaning of our beloved nation.”

The issue, of course, was the imperative of equal rights in the nation’s electoral process, and the need for Black Americans to “secure for themselves the full blessings of American life.” If America and the Congress were not up to the task, “we will have failed as a people and as a nation.” The cause of Black equality, Johnson insisted, was a cause all Americans should embrace. “Because … it’s all of us who must overcome the crippling legacy of bigotry and injustice. And we shall overcome.”

Johnson’s speech was powerful and impactful. His words spoke to the moral conscience of the entire country. They persuaded a bipartisan Congress to push America closer to the ideals of liberty, justice, and equality on which the nation was founded.

I have been reflecting lately on the power of words to inspire Americans to reach for its better angels, to more closely become the idealized vision of democracy to which we aspire. This is what leadership is supposed to be about. LBJ spoke with a Texas drawl and lacked the refinement of JFK. But he was an intelligent and deeply informed politician, and he knew that as the leader of a great nation, his public statements, speeches, and pronouncements required thoughtful deliberation, and sometimes poetry. This is where a talented speechwriter like Goodwin could be of service, to put into words why the country needed civil rights, voting rights, aid to education, protection of the environment, and medical care for the poor and the aged, not merely to improve the lives of some, but to allow all of America to reach its full potential.

The importance of dignified public leadership, and of words spoken with dignity by a nation’s political leaders, were driven home during my recent trip to the United Kingdom. While watching the local British newscasts, two things became apparent. First, the level of public discourse in Britain far surpasses what you see and hear every day in the United States. Political debates and competition are as ruthless in the UK as anywhere, but there are few if any gratuitous insults thrown about, no accusations of treason and sedition hurled at the opposition or the press for disagreeing with the prime minister. 

Second, when British journalists question public officials, they expect direct answers. Prescribed talking points result only in sharp follow-up questions until an answer to the original question surfaces. Talking over someone rarely occurs. Even when an unadmiring reporter asks tough questions, in Britain and most of Europe it is rare for anyone to shout at or insult the questioner. The British have a long tradition of high-level, high pressure, public debating. But as competitive and hard-nosed as political life can be in the UK, there remains an underlying sense of duty and dignity in its public discourse.

President Trump frequently boasts that he has restored respect for America around the world. But if my observations over eleven days in the UK have any bearing, nothing could be further from the truth. People outside the United States do not admire Trump’s undignified approach to leadership. Indeed, to the extent they even pay attention to him, the British public and press dismiss Trump’s daily social media posts and asinine comments as the undiplomatic rantings of an unstable man unfit for the office he holds. When he recently accused one of the world’s most respected national security correspondents, David Sanger of The New York Times, of treason and sedition—for reporting well-sourced U.S. intelligence assessments that sharply negated Trump’s assertions that the U.S. had achieved “total victory” in the war with Iran and questioned the extent of the damage caused Iranian missile capacity—the UK public recognized Trump’s insults for what they are: a desperate president’s attempts to suppress the truth, impose his will on inconvenient facts, and attack the messenger. These traits are not respected, anywhere. Anyone in the current administration who fails to see this is blind to reality.

When a nation’s leaders speak thoughtfully, when their words are principled and spoken in good faith, and when they convey a genuine concern for the nation and all its citizens, only then do people listen and engage in reflective consideration. Only when our leaders appeal to shared values over self-interest and base instinct can their words transform division into unity, elevate our moral imagination, and inspire us to reach for the stars.

As an American traveling overseas, it was embarrassing to contrast the comparative levels of discourse between the Trump White House with the statements of presidents, prime ministers, and members of parliament of most European countries. It is crude vs. dignified, uninformed vs. intelligent, crass vs. sophisticated. Maybe the American electorate wanted it this way when they voted for Trump in 2024; after all, Trump has always been transparent that he cares only about ego gratification, power, and economic self-interest.

But it should not be this way. We have lost our sense of purpose and the values to which President Johnson spoke in 1965, a moral clarity that all Americans knew, deep in their hearts, was right. A sense of right and wrong, an ethical concern for the public interest over private self-interest, and the knowledge that America can always do better and be better. Perhaps our appointed public officials have forgotten for whom they work and where their loyalties lie.

As recounted in An Unfinished Love Story: A Personal History of the 1960s by historian Doris Kearns Goodwin, who was married to Richard Goodwin for 42 years before he died in 2018, all the good Johnson accomplished during his first two years began to unravel as he escalated American involvement in the Vietnam War. Goodwin became increasingly dismayed by Johnson’s war policies and resigned in September 1965 (briefly returning only to assist with Johnson’s State of the Union speech in January). Johnson and other members of the administration never forgave Goodwin for what they perceived as an act of disloyalty, especially when Goodwin came out publicly against the war. As Doris Kearns Goodwin recalled, “[w]ords such as ‘traitor,’ ‘unpatriotic,’ and ‘disloyal’ were bandied about.” But Goodwin was right about the war, and despite his past partnership with Johnson, his duty was to his country, not his president.

This experience prompted Goodwin to write an essay on the loyalty of dissent, the words of which are well worth studying today. Goodwin wrote in part:

The government of the United States is not a private club or college fraternity. Its policies are not private oaths or company secrets. Presumably a man enters public life to serve the nation. The oath taken by every high officer of the nation, elected or appointed, is to support and defend the Constitution of the United States, not an Administration, a political party, or a man.

Dissenters are sometimes accused of demeaning the presidency. That office should demand respect. Its dignity, however, flows not from private right or title or the man who occupies it, but solely from the fact that its occupant is chosen by the people of the United States. It is their office, and if they, or any among them, feel that it is wrongly used, then it is their obligation to speak.

It should be apparent to everyone that these words possess exceptional resonance today. Each day’s news brings stories of corruption and conflicts of interest at the highest levels of government, and an utter disregard for ethics, law, and morality that is rampant throughout this administration. But I hope the tide is turning. Now more than ever it is time for responsible members of the Trump administration, the Republican Party, and those employed by the federal government, to heed the call and insist on decency and honesty in all public affairs. The American citizens deserve as much, and the rest of the world will respect us for it.