The Dish

A classic from The Atlantic’s now free archives. Felix Frankfurter, a professor at Harvard Law School, was considered the most prominent critic of the trial. His 1927 article about Sacco and Vanzetti sounds faintly familiar of the current administration:

In 1921 the temper of the times made it the special duty of a prosecutor and a court engaged in trying two Italian radicals before a jury of native New Englanders to keep the instruments of justice free from the infection of passion or prejudice. In the case of Sacco and Vanzetti no such restraints were respected. By systematic exploitation of the defendants’ alien blood, their imperfect knowledge of English, their unpopular social views, and their opposition to the war, the District Attorney invoked against them a riot of political passion and patriotic sentiment; and the trial judge connived at—one had almost written, cooperated in—the process.

Illinois lawmakers defend Obama.

Just for Reihan – a ten-minute video history of the British Tory Party. Maybe it helps explain why I still think of myself as a conservative:

Le Rouret, France, 7.10 am.

An examination of why the polls misread yet another primary.

Last night’s Dish coverage of Obama’s resemblance to John F. Kennedy is here; of the margin of Obama’s numbers – greater than McCain and Huckabee’s SC totals combined – here; of his acceptance speech – the best I have ever heard from him – here; and of Bill Clinton’s final, ugly spin here. In case you were having a normal Saturday night.

A reader writes:

In Quote for the Day III you ask, “Does anyone think that Jefferson was too inexperienced when he wrote that phrase?”, referring to that most famous line in American letters: “We hold these truths to be self-evident…”

Well, I don’t know if Jefferson was too inexperienced, but he didn’t write that phrase–at least, not exactly. Franklin did. This quote from Walter Isaacson’s "Benjamin Franklin: An American Life":

“On June 21, after he had finished a draft and incorporated some changes from Adams, Jefferson had a copy delivered to Franklin, with a cover note far more polite than editors generally receive today. "Will Doctor Franklin be so good as to peruse it," he wrote, "and suggest such alterations as his more enlarged view of the subject will dictate?"

Franklin made only a few small changes, but one of them was resounding. Using heavy backslashes, he crossed out the last three words of Jefferson’s phrase, "We hold these truths to be sacred and undeniable" and changed it to read: "We hold these truths to be self-evident."

The concept of "self-evident" truths came less from Jefferson’s favored philosopher, Locke, than from the scientific determinism of Isaac Newton and the analytic empiricism of Franklin’s close friend David Hume. Hume had distinguished between "synthetic" truths that describe matters of fact (such as "London is bigger than Philadelphia" ) and "analytic" truths that are self-evident by virtue of reason and definition. ("The angles of a triangle equal 180 degrees" or "All bachelors are unmarried." ) When he chose the word "sacred," Jefferson had suggested intentionally or unintentionally that the principle in question—the equality of men and their endowment by their creator with inalienable rights—was an assertion of religion. By changing it to "self-evident," Franklin made it an assertion of rationality.”

Maybe it did take someone with Franklin’s years—and scientific interests—and experience–to write that phrase. It was, simply, genius. Jujutsu. With one word—“self-evident”—Franklin forever clarified the divide between received and rational truth, and placed our political system firmly on the foundation of our common rationality rather than on sectarian faith (and all faiths, even the most popular, are by definition sectarian). It’s a phrase–a word–that we might profitably ponder again today. Franklin was not editing the Declaration–he was editing our minds.

"We hold these truths to be self-evident…" Has there ever been anything written more politically empowering than that? Truth is self-evident. Our freedom is founded on that proposition. Our democracy is too. And when truth that is not self-evident is forced on us by one faction or another, we must resist.

Oh yes, Obama. You were defending him against the charge of "inexperienced" in this post, weren’t you? Well, he’s no Franklin–yet. But then, at age 33, neither was Jefferson.

Mickey points out that Jackson got a mere 5 – 10 percent of the white vote in South Carolina to Obama’s 25 percent or so. Richelieu notes that if you’re looking at demographics, Obama isn’t the candidate the Dems should be worried about:

The candidate with the more limited demographic appeal is clearly Hillary Clinton, who so far has proven herself a rock star only to the Virginia Slims-‘n’-menopause set and their sensible-shoe-wearing sisters in the upper middle classes.

Ssssnappp!

A reader writes:

I’ve never voted Democrat. I’ve never supported a liberal. I’ve never thought myself suspect to the romantic idealism any political outsider needs to unseat the establishment. I’ve never thought "change" had any power except to turn Mr. Smiths into Senator Paines. But Obama’s speech tonight taught me a new meaning of "never": to never underestimate the extraordinary thirst for a United States that is, above all, united, where every color bleeds red, white, and blue, where the wisdom of the old meets the passion of the youth and each is bettered because of it.

I’m not a man prone to goosebumps. I’ve been following politics far too long to trust them, and even after Obama’s speech, my cynical side urges me to take a step back and reconsider. But that is the problem. This isn’t about taking a step back, this is about believing we can move forward. That’s a cliche, one everyone aspires to, but one so difficult to realize because actually believing that America is more than the sum of its parts is so difficult, considering our history.

But if our history is full of the foul odor of slavery, segregation, bigotry and discrimination, it is also unique in its defense of liberty, even when erratically applied. Watching Obama tonight reminded me of Reagan at Point du Hoc, it reminded me of the boys raising the flag at Iowa Jima, young men in the prime of life sacrificing that prime for a future yet realized. And I realized: what if you had told the Rangers they could have never ascended that impregnable wall on D-Day, what if you had told Martin Luther King the specter of racism was too powerful, too even American to overcome? No, King saw that if racism was American, something far greater was also American–that this country was founded on the backs of those who believed oppression was perhaps human, but freedom divine.

And if those heroes could believe, so can I. This isn’t over. I still fear the Clintons, and I still fear myself and others like me–those who’ve grown so hardened that the power of a speech must be repeated over and over in our minds until we begin to believe.

But tonight, I tried to tell myself to never say never again. Thank you, Barack. And thank you, South Carolina.

Conservatives recognize what’s in front of them. Here’s Lowry:

That was not only a stirring victory speech by Obama, but a devastating rebuke to the Clintons clothed in inspirational liberal terms.

And Pete Wehner, who has noted Obama’s power before:

Unlike Clinton and especially Edwards, the Obama message is about unity, not divisions; and hopes rather than grievances. If Obama wins the Democratic nomination, Republicans have a great deal to fear. He has tremendous break-out potential.

He nearly had K-Lo. And some liberals also saw new strength. Noam Scheiber agrees with me about the speech. Dickerson has a great line:

Barack Obama beat Hillary Clinton so badly in South Carolina it may spawn some new kind of Southern colloquialism.

And don’t miss Ambers.

(Photo: supporters watch Obama’s acceptance speech in South Carolina tonight. By Emmanuel Dunand/AFP/Getty.)