KEY POINTS:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness."
Thus rings out the immortal beginning of the US Declaration of Independence, one of the most visionary and powerful manifestos in modern history.
The Declaration created an independent United States of America, and was undeniable proof this new nation had a way with words.
The tradition of American oratory is a fine one, from the first rousing addresses of Thomas Jefferson, to the wisdom of Abraham Lincoln, and the showmanship of Theodore Roosevelt, who used his skill as a wordsmith to put heart into Americans devastated by the Great Depression. And when American presidents address not just their own people but audiences around the world, they give speeches that define the times.
Think of Woodrow Wilson opening the first meeting of the League of Nations, Kennedy's Ich bin ein Berliner, and after him, Reagan at the wall. "Persuasion and political power are inextricably linked," according to a Guardian editorial in praise of American oratory this week.
In this they are right; anyone who has ever addressed a crowd, however big or small, will be aware of the difference between people as individuals and people en masse. A crowd moves to its own rhythm. It may be possible to charm one person at a time, but winning a crowd takes another kind of magic.
I thought of this on Thursday night, watching poor old Winston Peters hectoring the half dozen or so delusional superannuitants who still believe in him. Stridently he urged them to give voice to their support in front of the TV cameras. "Tell them," barked Winnie, "say 'yes' so they can hear it." The half-hearted affirmation that followed wasn't exactly rousing.
Contrast that shabby little gathering then with the glitz and glamour and downright adulation that accompanied Barack Obama as he formally accepted the Democratic nomination at a giant rally of 70,000 people in Denver. Like Winston, Obama has already won himself a reputation as a formidable orator, an inheritor of the mantle of such great American visionaries as Martin Luther King jnr and the man to whom he is most often compared, JFK.
It is no coincidence that Obama's day of destiny comes exactly 45 years after Martin Luther King spoke of his dream of unity on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in one of the greatest and most oft-quoted speeches of modern times.
Obama's reference to that day may not match the magnificent simplicity of King's beautiful address, but it is the most lyrical moment of his speech: "It is that promise that 45 years ago today brought Americans from every corner of this land to stand together on a Mall in Washington, before Lincoln's Memorial, and hear a young preacher from Georgia speak of his dream. The men and women who gathered there could've heard many things. They could've heard words of anger and discord. They could've been told to succumb to the fear and frustration of so many dreams deferred.
But what the people heard instead - people of every creed and colour, from every walk of life - is that in America, our destiny is inextricably linked. That together, our dreams can be one."
A strong message of unity, and a look to the future, Obama's acceptance speech is a good demonstration of why he is an easy fit into the visionary continuum of King and Kennedy.
A few weeks ago I asked a colleague what he stood for and he replied simply, "hope".
It is a rare sort of senator who can have such an effect on a cynical creature like a political journalist, and I'm sure there are millions of people all over the world who share his view. To them, the lanky senator from Illinois represents the same thing: hope for a new America, ready to take its place as the inspiration of the Free World.
Yesterday, however, Obama was not aiming to woo his crowd with high-falutin' phrases. If anything, Team Obama used his acceptance speech to move away from the rarefied sphere of philosophical rhetoric and cement an image of their candidate as a man of action, a man with a purpose and a clear mission for America.
"As commander-in-chief I will never hesitate," he told a rapturous crowd. It's a clear attempt to deal to the image his detractors present of an inexperienced young senator, trying to hide political naivete behind a distracting cloak of flowery words.
What came across most clearly, however, was Obama's conviction that the Republican presidency simply isn't working.
"Eight is enough," he declared, demonstrating both a rousing conviction and a familiarity with lame daytime sitcoms. "America, we are better than these last eight years."
Stirring stuff, but there were also details about tax and eduction spending that were just as important as his call to arms.
If Obama is to succeed in his campaign, it is crucial that he deal with specifics and outline in concrete terms how his presidency will improve the lot of ordinary Americans struggling in the wake of the sub-prime mortgage crisis and dealing with the spiritual and economic cost of an increasingly unpopular foreign policy.
He knew as much before yesterday's speech, telling reporters: "I'm not aiming for a lot of high rhetoric, I am much more concerned with communicating how I intend to help middle-class families live their lives." How well did he do that? Very well, is my conviction.
In his acceptance speech Barack Obama outlined his dream of a unified America, and also gave a clear indication of the means by which he will achieve it. He has successfully yoked himself to the historical continuum of great American visionaries who have the words to shape a new future, and the political and moral convictions to achieve it.
The great genius of "I have a dream" was the way in which Dr King took the universality of the Great American Dream and moulded it to articulate the struggle of the group of Americans he represented. Forty-five years on, Obama has harnessed the spirit of that struggle and given it back its universality so that his dream can apply not just to black Americans, but to all Americans.
And not simply to them either.
In addressing his countrymen yesterday, Obama was addressing millions of us all over the world. The millions of us who were waiting in the wings with him before his speech wondering if it would do the job, if it would take it's place in the great history of American oratory.
Not quite. Obama's nomination acceptance speech, rousing and fluent though it was, does not rank in the top tier. The fact that it was delivered by the first black presidential candidate in the history of the United States gives it an immediate place in history, however.
As for Barack Obama's place in American history, well, that's still to be decided. He may be the man who makes history as the first black American president, who ushers in a new age of peace and prosperity for America and, by extension, for the greater part of our world.
Or, he may become a footnote as the candidate whose youth and inexperience lost the Democrats what should have been the most winnable election in decades. He must wait and see, and we must wait with him.
But the victory of Barack Obama so far is that he has allowed us to wait in hope. To wait in hope for victory, and for a presidential inauguration speech that can and must take its place in the great history of American oratory.