Will­kom­men daheim, Ame­rika. Heute wurde das dunkle 20. Jahr­hun­dert end­gül­tig begra­ben, und wie pas­send, dass es in Washing­ton DC pas­sierte. George Bush ist nicht mehr, zumin­dest poli­tisch, und das ist gut so. Die unglaub­lich gute Rede des jun­gen Prä­si­den­ten Barack Obama machte dann auch sofort klar, wo die Reise hin geht: keine Spur mehr von enemy this, kill that und axis of evil für alle, die schief schauen. Nein. So viel Opti­mis­mus, Patrio­tis­mus und Welt­of­fen­heit hat man aus DC schon sehr lange nicht mehr gehört. Anstatt Feinde zu defi­nie­ren und die sich selbst has­sende Ultra­rechte scharf­zu­ma­chen, lud Obama die Welt ein, die USA wie­der als Freund zu sehen.

Kann er das Ver­spre­chen wahr machen? Man weiß es noch nicht. Ich traue es ihm zu. Und dass diese Rede wohl dem (im Roll­stuhl sit­zen­den) Dick Che­ney und sei­nen zutiefst dis­kre­di­tier­ten neo­kon­ser­va­ti­ven Hyperna­tio­na­lis­ten das Früh­stück wie­der hoch­stei­gen hat las­sen, macht das alles nur so viel süßer.

Hier der Text. Und natür­lich Video.

 

 

My fel­low citizens:

I stand here today hum­bled by the task before us, gra­te­ful for the trust you have bes­towed, mind­ful of the sacri­fices borne by our ance­s­tors. I thank Pre­si­dent Bush for his ser­vice to our nation, as well as the gene­ro­sity and coope­ra­tion he has shown throug­hout this transition.

Forty-four Ame­ri­cans have now taken the pre­si­den­tial oath. The words have been spo­ken during rising tides of pros­pe­rity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often, the oath is taken amidst gathe­ring clouds and raging storms. At these moments, Ame­rica has car­ried on not sim­ply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because We the People have remai­ned faith­ful to the ide­als of our fore­bea­rers, and true to our foun­ding documents.

So it has been. So it must be with this gene­ra­tion of Americans.

That we are in the midst of cri­sis is now well under­s­tood. Our nation is at war, against a far-reaching net­work of vio­lence and hat­red. Our eco­nomy is badly wea­ke­ned, a con­se­quence of greed and irre­sponsi­bi­lity on the part of some, but also our collec­tive failure to make hard choices and pre­pare the nation for a new age. Homes have been lost; jobs shed; busi­nes­ses shut­te­red. Our health care is too costly; our schools fail too many; and each day brings fur­ther evi­dence that the ways we use energy strengt­hen our adversa­ries and threa­ten our planet.

These are the indi­ca­tors of cri­sis, sub­ject to data and sta­tistics. Less mea­sura­ble but no less pro­found is a sap­ping of con­fi­dence across our land — a nag­ging fear that America’s decline is ine­vi­ta­ble, and that the next gene­ra­tion must lower its sights.

 

Today I say to you that the chal­len­ges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, Ame­rica: They will be met.

On this day, we gather because we have cho­sen hope over fear, unity of pur­pose over con­flict and discord.

On this day, we come to pro­claim an end to the petty grie­van­ces and false pro­mi­ses, the recri­mi­na­ti­ons and worn-out dog­mas, that for far too long have stran­g­led our politics.

We remain a young nation, but in the words of Scrip­ture, the time has come to set aside chil­dish things. The time has come to reaf­firm our endu­ring spi­rit; to choose our bet­ter history; to carry for­ward that pre­cious gift, that noble idea, pas­sed on from gene­ra­tion to gene­ra­tion: the God-given pro­mise that all are equal, all are free, and all deserve a chance to pur­sue their full mea­sure of happiness.

In reaf­fir­ming the great­ness of our nation, we under­stand that great­ness is never a given. It must be ear­ned. Our jour­ney has never been one of short­cuts or sett­ling for less. It has not been the path for the fain­the­ar­ted — for those who pre­fer lei­sure over work, or seek only the plea­su­res of riches and fame. Rather, it has been the risk-takers, the doers, the makers of things — some cele­bra­ted, but more often men and women obscure in their labor — who have car­ried us up the long, rug­ged path toward pros­pe­rity and freedom.

For us, they packed up their few worldly pos­ses­si­ons and tra­ve­led across oceans in search of a new life.

For us, they toi­led in sweat­shops and sett­led the West; endu­red the lash of the whip and plo­wed the hard earth.

For us, they fought and died, in pla­ces like Con­cord and Get­tys­burg; Nor­mandy and Khe Sahn.

Time and again, these men and women strugg­led and sacri­ficed and worked till their hands were raw so that we might live a bet­ter life. They saw Ame­rica as big­ger than the sum of our indi­vi­dual ambi­ti­ons; grea­ter than all the dif­fe­ren­ces of birth or wealth or faction.

This is the jour­ney we con­ti­nue today. We remain the most pros­pe­rous, power­ful nation on Earth. Our workers are no less pro­duc­tive than when this cri­sis began. Our minds are no less inven­tive, our goods and ser­vices no less nee­ded than they were last week or last month or last year. Our capa­city remains undi­mi­nis­hed. But our time of stan­ding pat, of pro­tec­ting nar­row inte­rests and put­ting off unplea­sant deci­si­ons — that time has surely pas­sed. Star­ting today, we must pick our­sel­ves up, dust our­sel­ves off, and begin again the work of remaking America.

For ever­y­where we look, there is work to be done. The state of the eco­nomy calls for action, bold and swift, and we will act — not only to create new jobs, but to lay a new foun­da­tion for growth. We will build the roads and bridges, the elec­tric grids and digi­tal lines that feed our com­merce and bind us toge­ther. We will res­tore sci­ence to its right­ful place, and wield technology’s won­ders to raise health care’s qua­lity and lower its cost. We will har­ness the sun and the winds and the soil to fuel our cars and run our fac­to­ries. And we will trans­form our schools and col­le­ges and uni­ver­si­ties to meet the demands of a new age. All this we can do. And all this we will do.

Now, there are some who ques­tion the scale of our ambi­ti­ons — who sug­gest that our sys­tem can­not tole­rate too many big plans. Their memo­ries are short. For they have for­got­ten what this coun­try has alre­ady done; what free men and women can achieve when ima­gi­na­tion is joi­ned to com­mon pur­pose, and neces­sity to courage.

What the cynics fail to under­stand is that the ground has shif­ted bene­ath them — that the stale poli­ti­cal argu­ments that have con­su­med us for so long no lon­ger apply. The ques­tion we ask today is not whe­ther our govern­ment is too big or too small, but whe­ther it works — whe­ther it helps fami­lies find jobs at a decent wage, care they can afford, a reti­re­ment that is digni­fied. Where the ans­wer is yes, we intend to move for­ward. Where the ans­wer is no, pro­grams will end. And those of us who manage the public’s dol­lars will be held to account — to spend wisely, reform bad hab­its, and do our busi­ness in the light of day — because only then can we res­tore the vital trust bet­ween a people and their government.

Nor is the ques­tion before us whe­ther the mar­ket is a force for good or ill. Its power to gene­rate wealth and expand free­dom is unmatched, but this cri­sis has remin­ded us that wit­hout a watch­ful eye, the mar­ket can spin out of con­trol — and that a nation can­not pros­per long when it favors only the pros­pe­rous. The suc­cess of our eco­nomy has always depen­ded not just on the size of our gross domestic pro­duct, but on the reach of our pros­pe­rity; on our abi­lity to extend oppor­tu­nity to every wil­ling heart — not out of cha­rity, but because it is the surest route to our com­mon good.

As for our com­mon defense, we reject as false the choice bet­ween our safety and our ide­als. Our Foun­ding Fathers, faced with perils we can scar­cely ima­gine, draf­ted a char­ter to assure the rule of law and the rights of man, a char­ter expan­ded by the blood of gene­ra­ti­ons. Those ide­als still light the world, and we will not give them up for expedience’s sake. And so to all other peo­p­les and govern­ments who are watching today, from the gran­dest capi­tals to the small vil­lage where my father was born: Know that Ame­rica is a fri­end of each nation and every man, woman and child who seeks a future of peace and dignity, and that we are ready to lead once more.

Recall that ear­lier gene­ra­ti­ons faced down fascism and com­mu­nism not just with mis­si­les and tanks, but with sturdy alli­an­ces and endu­ring con­vic­tions. They under­s­tood that our power alone can­not pro­tect us, nor does it entitle us to do as we please. Instead, they knew that our power grows through its pru­dent use; our secu­rity ema­na­tes from the just­ness of our cause, the force of our example, the tem­pe­ring qua­li­ties of humi­lity and restraint.

We are the kee­pers of this legacy. Gui­ded by these prin­ci­ples once more, we can meet those new thre­ats that demand even grea­ter effort — even grea­ter coope­ra­tion and under­stan­ding bet­ween nati­ons. We will begin to responsi­bly leave Iraq to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in Afgha­nis­tan. With old fri­ends and for­mer foes, we will work tire­lessly to les­sen the nuclear threat, and roll back the spec­ter of a war­ming pla­net. We will not apo­lo­gize for our way of life, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by indu­cing ter­ror and slaugh­te­ring inno­cents, we say to you now that our spi­rit is stron­ger and can­not be bro­ken; you can­not out­last us, and we will defeat you.

For we know that our patch­work heri­tage is a strength, not a weak­ness. We are a nation of Chris­ti­ans and Mus­lims, Jews and Hin­dus — and non­be­lie­vers. We are shaped by every lan­guage and cul­ture, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tas­ted the bit­ter swill of civil war and segre­ga­tion, and emer­ged from that dark chap­ter stron­ger and more united, we can­not help but believe that the old hat­reds shall some­day pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dis­solve; that as the world grows smal­ler, our com­mon huma­nity shall reveal its­elf; and that Ame­rica must play its role in ushe­ring in a new era of peace.

To the Mus­lim world, we seek a new way for­ward, based on mutual inte­rest and mutual respect. To those lea­ders around the globe who seek to sow con­flict, or blame their society’s ills on the West: Know that your people will judge you on what you can build, not what you des­troy. To those who cling to power through cor­rup­tion and deceit and the silen­cing of dis­sent, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are wil­ling to unclench your fist.

To the people of poor nati­ons, we pledge to work alongs­ide you to make your farms flou­rish and let clean waters flow; to nou­rish star­ved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nati­ons like ours that enjoy rela­tive ple­nty, we say we can no lon­ger afford indif­fe­rence to suf­fe­ring outs­ide our bor­ders; nor can we con­sume the world’s resour­ces wit­hout regard to effect. For the world has chan­ged, and we must change with it.

As we con­sider the road that unfolds before us, we remem­ber with hum­ble gra­ti­tude those brave Ame­ri­cans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and dis­tant moun­tains. They have some­thing to tell us today, just as the fal­len heroes who lie in Arling­ton whi­sper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guar­di­ans of our liberty, but because they embody the spi­rit of ser­vice; a wil­ling­ness to find mea­ning in some­thing grea­ter than them­sel­ves. And yet, at this moment — a moment that will define a gene­ra­tion — it is pre­ci­sely this spi­rit that must inha­bit us all.

For as much as govern­ment can do and must do, it is ulti­mately the faith and deter­mi­na­tion of the Ame­ri­can people upon which this nation relies. It is the kind­ness to take in a stran­ger when the levees break, the sel­fless­ness of workers who would rather cut their hours than see a fri­end lose their job which sees us through our dar­kest hours. It is the firefighter’s cou­rage to storm a stair­way fil­led with smoke, but also a parent’s wil­ling­ness to nur­ture a child, that finally deci­des our fate.

Our chal­len­ges may be new. The instru­ments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our suc­cess depends — hard work and honesty, cou­rage and fair play, tolerance and curio­sity, loy­alty and patrio­tism — these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of pro­gress throug­hout our history. What is deman­ded then is a return to these truths. What is requi­red of us now is a new era of responsi­bi­lity — a reco­gni­tion, on the part of every Ame­ri­can, that we have duties to our­sel­ves, our nation and the world; duties that we do not grud­gin­gly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the know­ledge that there is not­hing so satis­fy­ing to the spi­rit, so defi­ning of our cha­rac­ter, than giving our all to a dif­fi­cult task.

This is the price and the pro­mise of citizenship.

This is the source of our con­fi­dence — the know­ledge that God calls on us to shape an uncer­tain destiny.

This is the mea­ning of our liberty and our creed — why men and women and child­ren of every race and every faith can join in cele­bra­tion across this magni­fi­cent Mall, and why a man whose father less than 60 years ago might not have been ser­ved at a local restau­rant can now stand before you to take a most sacred oath.

So let us mark this day with remem­brance, of who we are and how far we have tra­ve­led. In the year of America’s birth, in the col­dest of months, a small band of patri­ots hudd­led by dying camp­fi­res on the shores of an icy river. The capi­tal was aban­do­ned. The enemy was advan­cing. The snow was stai­ned with blood. At a moment when the out­come of our revo­lu­tion was most in doubt, the father of our nation orde­red these words be read to the people:

„Let it be told to the future world … that in the depth of win­ter, when not­hing but hope and vir­tue could sur­vive… that the city and the coun­try, alar­med at one com­mon dan­ger, came forth to meet [it].”

Ame­rica. In the face of our com­mon dan­gers, in this win­ter of our hardship, let us remem­ber these tim­e­l­ess words. With hope and vir­tue, let us brave once more the icy cur­rents, and endure what storms may come. Let it be said by our children’s child­ren that when we were tes­ted, we refu­sed to let this jour­ney end, that we did not turn back, nor did we fal­ter; and with eyes fixed on the hori­zon and God’s grace upon us, we car­ried forth that great gift of free­dom and deli­vered it safely to future generations.