On Rhetoric

In the playgrounds where some swarmed the swings, and others circled trees, I sat stationary on a bench with some friends. I remember often getting lost in thought about how people communicated. A yell here, a whisper there, some giggling across the field, anything that included words seemed to include or induce meaning. Where there was life, there were words — for lack of a better word. Admittedly, this was weird. I knew as much, even then. Whether attributable to my teachers who always encouraged me to question the world around me, or to my father who always reminded me that "God gave you two ears to listen, and one tongue to speak," I was raised to pay intense attention to words. Concurrently, raised in a Muslim household, I was also taught the importance of intentions as I constantly questioned religious mandates or virtues. If I accidentally ate pork or was forced to eat it to prevent death, have I committed sin? The answer, I am taught, is no; in both those circumstances your intention is not to eat specifically pork but to stay alive. Thus in this way, I came to develop a love of words and the intent and meaning they convey or conceal. I eventually came to realize that, in reality, what I have been fascinated with since childhood is rhetoric.

Rhetoric's power is undeniable. Recognizing this power, I sought to hone it. To me, it was no coincidence that every great mind of the past seemed so eloquent and able to express their thoughts so clearly to so many people across centuries. I joined my high school's Model United Nations team in an attempt to find opportunities to practice my rhetoric. The challenge? I pledged to myself that I would never prepare notes, and would always speak as spontaneously as possible. When I spoke, I wanted it to be just me and my mind wrangling for the right words in a chaotic battle masked within my head, yet the audience would be privy to only exactly what I wanted them to hear. In this way, I came to appreciate and understand how rhetoric, forged in the cauldron of one's head, largely goes unnoticed.

Rhetoric, R1, is the principal form of rhetoric. It establishes that rhetoric, at its core, is persuasive communication. As a result, the more one searches, the more examples of rhetoric one finds. A news article is made with a clear purpose and clear intent to persuade its reader of, if not a certain bias, then at least the fact that said news report is important. A painting is made to persuade the observer by conveying artistic expressions intended to have an effect on the viewer. Mere speech and conversations are inherently imbued with rhetoric for how they intend to get across a certain specific message, and thereby persuade one's perspective.

Rhetoric, R2, builds upon R1 such that it considers the aspect of studying R1 in all its forms. Whether to analyse Plato's Republic for his Socratic method of persuasion, or to study a painting for its intended meaning, the study of Rhetoric reveals the often hidden intention, meaning, and value. For this reason, it is imperative to be a critical thinker, and study how one is being influenced by rhetoric, for certainly, one is always being influenced by rhetoric.

Lastly, Rhetoric, R3, concerns itself with the teaching of R1 and R2. As such, a prime example of R3 is a class lesson on rhetoric — or perhaps even this paper. Ultimately, with all these forms coming together, we surmised that rhetoric is like the air we breathe. Indeed, rhetoric surrounds us at all times, and we cannot live without it.

I jotted down in my notes the idea that "rhetoric is the medium of purpose." I do not have the time to defend my claim in full, so instead it serves as a testament to how profoundly I believe rhetoric to be inextricably linked to our very existence.