Last night, in addition to electoral history being made, we witnessed rhetorical history:  two equally literate and gracious speeches from the candidates, Senators McCain and Obama. 

McCain’s concession speech was indeed gracious – more gracious than his supporters, who booed at a couple of embarrassing moments.  His nod to the special historical significance of the night was especially good:

This is an historic election, and I recognize the special significance it has for African-Americans and for the special pride that must be theirs tonight.

I've always believed that America offers opportunities to all who have the industry and will to seize it. Senator Obama believes that, too.

But we both recognize that, though we have come a long way from the old injustices that once stained our nation's reputation and denied some Americans the full blessings of American citizenship, the memory of them still had the power to wound.

A century ago, President Theodore Roosevelt's invitation of Booker T. Washington to dine at the White House was taken as an outrage in many quarters.

America today is a world away from the cruel and frightful bigotry of that time. There is no better evidence of this than the election of an African-American to the presidency of the United States.

Let there be no reason now … Let there be no reason now for any American to fail to cherish their citizenship in this, the greatest nation on Earth.

Senator Obama has achieved a great thing for himself and for his country.

Those words show an awareness of the history in the moment, as well as a generosity of spirit at a tough moment for an individual. 

McCain’s concession speech, like Gore’s, was more appealing than many other speeches he’s given, because he relaxed, and the cranky grandpa persona was gone.  No more endless repetition of the word ‘fight’.  His best speech of the campaign.

Obama’s victory speech was equally sensitive and nuanced.  Like all of his rhetoric to date, the speech overall was cool and measured.  Not for Obama the soaring rhetoric of the pulpit-inspired masters like the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.  Instead, his prose is workmanlike and clean, with a touch of heart: 

But above all, I will never forget who this victory truly belongs to. It belongs to you. It belongs to you.

I was never the likeliest candidate for this office. We didn't start with much money or many endorsements. Our campaign was not hatched in the halls of Washington. It began in the backyards of Des Moines and the living rooms of Concord and the front porches of Charleston. It was built by working men and women who dug into what little savings they had to give $5 and $10 and $20 to the cause.

It grew strength from the young people who rejected the myth of their generation's apathy … who left their homes and their families for jobs that offered little pay and less sleep.

It drew strength from the not-so-young people who braved the bitter cold and scorching heat to knock on doors of perfect strangers, and from the millions of Americans who volunteered and organized and proved that more than two centuries later a government of the people, by the people, and for the people has not perished from the Earth.

This is your victory.

As Obama moves from campaigning to governing, he may wish that he can call up more passion and heart for some of the difficult sacrifices he will inevitably ask the country to make.  We’ll see.  The best thing about Obama’s speeches so far is that they are not about him, but rather about the audience.  That is almost unheard-of for a politician, and rare for any speaker.  Therein lies his oratorical genius.  (McCain’s concession speech, by contrast, as gracious as it was, was about his feelings.)  It has worked well for him so far. 

Obama’s delivery is cool and measured, like his words.  He cranks it up just enough for the big audiences like last night, but we’re still not really seeing his heart.  That’s something that he keeps very carefully hidden away.  That’s going to make it hard for America and the world to learn to trust him. 

It always used to be said that politicians ran on poetry, but had to govern in prose.  Obama ran on prose.  I think he’s going to need a little poetry to govern this unruly, unhappy, frightened nation in this unruly, unhappy, frightened world.