I’m afraid I wasn’t paying complete attention during the inaugural speech. Too busy scanning the skies waiting for the mothership to descend. But it seemed pretty inclusive. Bush was thanked for “his service to our country.” Lots of mention of “our forebears” and George Washington, to make it very clear that Obama knows what country he is president of and, despite certain unfortunate remarks, fully identifies with it. Yeah, there was some slightly partisan stuff about “We are ready to lead once more” but, look, you can scarcely come in as a new president having campaigned on a slogan of “change” then say, “well on second thoughts, I am now firmly resolved to run things in exactly the same way as the previous administration,” can you?
It was all so nice. (I also liked the bit where there were no explosions.) I’m not sure I didn’t have a sentimental tear in my eye as I wandered out into the kitchen to inaugurate a celebratory packet of digestive biscuits.
So twenty seconds after the man calls it a wrap with “… and God bless the United States of America” down stomps the BBC in size eleven hob-nailed Doc Martins. The first, the very first, thing that comes out of the post-speech commentary just had to be that Obama’s comment blah blah blah was “a missile into the heart of the previous administration.” Something like that anyway, and I think, but only think, it was Huw Edwards doing the idioting. Like I said, by this time my attention had wandered. So after all that I missed the moment when the prophecies were fulfilled: because, surely brothers, the BBC was destined to speak thus.
Obama did no more than indulge in some standard “new dawn” rhetoric. The man may be an economic ignoramus but – and this skill at performance may bring us good or ill – he knows very well indeed how to vary his demeanour to match the mood of the occasion. The BBC doesn’t.