[Salon] The Skill Involved in Zelensky's Congressional Address



The Skill Involved in Zelensky's Congressional Address

The words of the speech were ‘left brain,’ with careful writerly eloquence. The in-person performance was ‘right brain,’ with emotional power beyond the words. The combination was remarkable.

At left, a wartime leader appealing to a joint meeting of Congress for further American support, on the day after Christmas in 1941. At right, another wartime leader making a similar appeal, four days before Christmas in 2022. The two images convey some striking differences between the eras. The speeches themselves had striking similarities. (Getty Images.)

This post starts with some major “staging” choices Volodymyr Zelensky made for his address to Congress this week, including that he would deliver it in English and while dressed in his familiar wartime wear. Then we’ll move to some significant line-by-line aspects of the text itself.

In both parts I’ll be saying that the speech was carefully thought out as a piece of writing, and powerfully presented as a moment in living history. Zelensky could hardly have done more, or done anything more effective, to get his country’s message across.

We often hear about presentations that work on different levels, as appeals to both head and heart. “Tear down this wall,” at the Berlin Wall. “Ask not what your country can do for you,” in bitter January cold from the inaugural stand at the Capitol. “I have a dream,” in August heat from the Lincoln Memorial.

We have no idea of Ukraine’s fate a year or a decade from now, nor of Volodymyr Zelensky’s ultimate place in history’. But I think this week’s speech will stand as another important example of combining moment, message, and messenger to remarkable effect.


The set-up.

Zelensky's speech came 10 months after Russia launched its invasion of Ukraine. It came 81 years after Winston Churchill stood in the same place at the Capitol, with the same Constitutional officers (vice president and speaker of the House) seated behind him, to a similar joint meeting of the Senate and House. There he made a similar appeal for assistance, to a United States that, just after Pearl Harbor, had finally entered the war against Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan.1 The photos of the two presentations, above, suggest how much is traditional and constant in American procedures, and how much has changed.

Zelensky’s speech was also part of series he has made to international audiences since the invasion began. The previous ones had all been virtual, over tele-links from Kyiv and elsewhere in Ukraine, because of Zelensky’s wartime role. In each of them he has argued that Ukraine was the frontline in the battle between dictatorship and democracy, between rule-by-force and rule-of-law.

The official English versions of these speeches, which have all been delivered in Ukrainian, have been notable for their careful craftsmanship. Zelensky and his team knew what allusions to make, what chords to strike, what historical and cultural parallels to draw, when speaking to each of his audiences. I wrote about two of these virtual addresses—to the U.K. Parliament on March 8, and to the U.S. Congress on March 16—soon after they occurred.2

The plain text of this latest speech showed the same deftness and unusual care. Zelensky has someone who is good, and is good in English, working with him. The early speeches had the breathtaking drama of being delivered from cities under attack, much as with Zelensky’s original, history-changing “We are here” short video. This week’s presentation had different drama because of two additional risks he took. Those were:


On language, eloquence, and ‘intelligence.’

Let’s talk for a minute, in English, about this language choice, and the trickiness of trying fully to express yourself in other than your native tongue.

Of course countless billions of people navigate language gulfs every day. The business, political, academic, sporting, and other leaders of many countries have grown up as comfortable in English as in whatever else they spoke at home. In many parts of the world people have always grown up speaking multiple languages. In the past half-century, it has become more and more likely that one of those languages will be English, as it has crowded out French, German, Swahili, etc. as the “second” language people will know. A lingua franca, you might say.

But if you didn’t grow up with ease and command of particular languages, you recognize the difference between doing business in them, and being fluent. To make this personal: I “know” a lot of languages, and have often blundered through my day in them. But I have never once dared express myself in public, in a speech or interview or TV show, except in English, with reliance on interpreters.

Why? Because I know I would come across differently from what I intend. And this is because of the inevitable unspoken equation of command of language—its nuances and patterns, the signals of its subtle word choices—with depth of thought. With intelligence. With range of personality. This is “unfair.” But it is true. (A cruel everyday experience in the United States: meeting someone who had been a professor or surgeon or government official in Afghanistan or El Salvador or Congo, and hearing that person switch between fluid, expert-sounding discourse in a native language, and halting transactional comments in their diminished Anglosphere roles.)

This reality does not matter if the message you’re conveying is purely transactional: “I would like a sandwich.” It matters more, the more complicated and considered your message becomes. It matters tremendously if your message to the most powerful government on Earth is: “My country is deeply grateful for what you have done, but it is appropriate that we ask you to do more.” Or, “We know that we will win, but we need your help to make it so.”

As it happens, these were essentially the messages that both Prime Minister Churchill, in 1941, and President Zelensky, in 2022, were conveying to the U.S. Congress. And in presenting his, Churchill went out of his way to stress the bond of shared (native) language. He began his speech:

“That here I am, an Englishman, welcomed in your midst, makes this experience one of the most moving and thrilling in my life, which is already long and has not been entirely uneventful… [Laughter]

“I may confess, however, that I do not feel quite like a fish out of water in a legislative assembly where English is spoken. I am a child of the House of Commons.” [You can read the speech and listen to some of it here.]

It was natural, it was off-hand, it was from a master of the language addressing others who understood all its cues. (Recall that, bizarrely, Churchill won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1953.)

Time magazine named Winston Churchill its “Man of the Year” for his resolve in leading Britain in 1940. Time recently named Volodymyr Zelensky its Person of this year for his resolve in leading Ukraine. That is a similarity in courage between the two, and in their individual roles in changing history’s path. (Despite the difference in heft of “Person of the Year” recognition between then and now).

But among the obvious differences between Churchill and Zelensky is that Zelensky did not grow up with command of English. He “speaks” the language, which makes an enormous difference in, for example, his ability to chat with Joe Biden when they met at the White House. But he does not swim in it. It is a foreign-enough medium for him that, at numerous important points in this week’s speech, initial news transcripts mis-understood what he said, because of the way he pronounced the words.

[For instance, he meant to say “Standing here today, I recall the words of the president Franklin Delano Roosevelt, which are I think so good for this moment.” But it sounded like “I recall the wars … which I think are so good for this moment”, and that is how the New York Times and C-Span initially rendered his comments. He had a line expressing thanks “from everyone who is awaiting victory” in Ukraine. It sounded like “avoiding victory.” He made several word-plays in English, for instance the connection between “Patriots” (missiles) and “patriots” (defending their country). These were evident in the transcript but less so to listeners. When he meant to say “cherish,” it sounded like “cheers.” And so on.]

Why do I mention this? It is not to nitpick but to notice, and to praise. Zelensky, who has become a history-changing leader but began as a performer, decided to go all-in on the emotional and personal connection he could make with American legislators and the American viewing public. He must have known that he would sound clumsier and worse. (This is not like some Dutch or Swedish leader giving a speech in Oxford- or Stanford-toned colloquial English.) But he must also have reckoned that his message would seem clearer, more earnest, more direct, more urgent if he spoke to his audience in their own language. And he was right. Lumbering this address with the burden of interpretation would have made him more “eloquent” but more distant, and changed all the dynamics in the room. His dress was informal, and so was his language. There’s a war going on.

A moment, a message, and a messenger came together.


Let’s go line by line.

What do I mean by saying that the English-language, “as written” version of the speech was skillfully crafted? Here are a bunch of illustrations, working from text versions that avoid initial transcription errors. In these notes I’ve added emphasis to parts I want to highlight, and inserts comments in brackets [like this].

Zelensky’s appearance ended with the exchange of flags—a signed Ukrainian battle flag, from the front it Bakhmut, and the carefully boxed American flag that had flown over the Capitol that day. Cheers went on for minutes.

Zelensky should have thought that he had expressed his message, through the veil of another language, as powerfully as anyone could have. Because that is what he did. Slava Ukraini.

1

Behind Zelensky are of course Vice President Kamala Harris and Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi. Behind Winston Churchill were Vice President Henry Wallace, with the dark hair on the right, and Speaker Pro Tem William P. Cole, with the white hair on the left.
There are technical differences between a “Joint Session” of Congress, like the ones who listen to presidential addresses at State of the Union or other occasions, and a “Joint Meeting,” which includes members from the House and the Senate. The gatherings that Churchill and Zelensky addressed were “joint meetings.”

2

For reference, the video of Zelensky addressing the European parliament on March 1 is here; the one to the U.K. Parliament is here; the one to the U.S. Congress on March 16 is here; and the one to the UN General Assembly in September is here. Also, the full C-Span video of his address this week is here.



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