Here's the text of President Barack Obama's farewell address Tuesday at McCormick Place in Chicago:
It’s
good to be home. My fellow Americans, Michelle and I have been so
touched by all the well-wishes we’ve received over the past few weeks.
But tonight it’s my turn to say thanks. Whether we’ve seen eye-to-eye
or rarely agreed at all, my conversations with you, the American people –
in living rooms and schools; at farms and on factory floors; at diners
and on distant outposts – are what have kept me honest, kept me
inspired, and kept me going. Every day, I learned from you. You made
me a better president, and you made me a better man.
I first
came to Chicago when I was in my early twenties, and was still trying to
figure out who I was; still searching for a purpose to my life. It was
in neighborhoods not far from here where I began working with church
groups in the shadows of closed steel mills. It was on these streets
where I witnessed the power of faith, and the quiet dignity of working
people in the face of struggle and loss. This is where I learned that
change only happens when ordinary people get involved, and they get
engaged, and come together to demand it.
After eight years as
your President, I still believe that. And it’s not just my belief.
It’s the beating heart of our American idea – our bold experiment in
self-government.
It’s the conviction that we are all created
equal, endowed by our Creator with certain unalienable rights, among
them life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It’s the
insistence that these rights, while self-evident, have never been
self-executing; that We, the People, through the instrument of our
democracy, can form a more perfect union.
This is the great gift
our Founders gave us. The freedom to chase our individual dreams
through our sweat, toil, and imagination – and the imperative to strive
together as well, to achieve a common good, a greater good.
For
240 years, our nation’s call to citizenship has given work and purpose
to each new generation. It’s what led patriots to choose republic over
tyranny, pioneers to trek west, slaves to brave that makeshift railroad
to freedom. It’s what pulled immigrants and refugees across oceans and
the Rio Grande, it's what pushed women to reach for the ballot, it's
what powered workers to organize. It’s why GIs gave their lives at
Omaha Beach and Iwo Jima; Iraq and Afghanistan – and why men and women
from Selma to Stonewall were prepared to give theirs as well.
So
that’s what we mean when we say America is exceptional. Not that our
nation has been flawless from the start, but that we have shown the
capacity to change, and make life better for those who follow.
Yes,
our progress has been uneven. The work of democracy has always been
hard, it's always been contentious and it's sometimes been bloody. For
every two steps forward, it often feels we take one step back. But the
long sweep of America has been defined by forward motion, a constant
widening of our founding creed to embrace all, and not just some.
If
I had told you eight years ago that America would reverse a great
recession, reboot our auto industry, and unleash the longest stretch of
job creation in our history … if I had told you that we would open up a
new chapter with the Cuban people, shut down Iran’s nuclear weapons
program without firing a shot, and take out the mastermind of 9/11 … if I
had told you that we would win marriage equality, and secure the right
to health insurance for another 20 million of our fellow citizens ... If
I had told you all of that, you might have said our sights were set a
little too high.
But that’s what we did. That’s what you did.
You were the change. You answered people’s hopes, and because of you,
by almost every measure, America is a better, stronger place than it was
when we started.
In ten days, the world will witness a hallmark
of our democracy: the peaceful transfer of power from one freely
elected president to the next. I committed to President-Elect Trump
that my administration would ensure the smoothest possible transition,
just as President Bush did for me. Because it’s up to all of us to make
sure our government can help us meet the many challenges we still face.
We
have what we need to do so. We have everything we need to meet those
challenges. After all, we remain the wealthiest, most powerful, and most
respected nation on Earth. Our youth and drive, our diversity and
openness, our boundless capacity for risk and reinvention means that the
future should be ours.
But that potential will be realized only
if our democracy works. Only if our politics better reflects the
decency of the our people. Only if all of us, regardless of party
affiliation or particular interest, help restore the sense of common
purpose that we so badly need right now.
That’s what I want to focus on tonight – the state of our democracy.
Understand,
democracy does not require uniformity. Our founders argued, they
quarreled, eventually they compromised. They expected us to do the same.
But they knew that democracy does require a basic sense of solidarity –
the idea that for all our outward differences, we are all in this
together; that we rise or fall as one.
There have been moments
throughout our history that threatened that solidarity. The beginning
of this century has been one of those times. A shrinking world, growing
inequality; demographic change and the specter of terrorism – these
forces haven’t just tested our security and prosperity, but are testing
our democracy as well. And how we meet these challenges to our
democracy will determine our ability to educate our kids, and create
good jobs and protect our homeland.
In other words, it will determine our future.
To
begin with, our democracy won’t work without a sense that everyone has
economic opportunity. Today, the economy is growing again; wages,
incomes, home values, and retirement accounts are rising again; poverty
is falling again. The wealthy are paying a fairer share of taxes even
as the stock market shatters records. The unemployment rate is near a
ten-year low. The uninsured rate has never, ever been lower. Health
care costs are rising at the slowest rate in fifty years. And I said,
and I mean it, if anyone can put together a plan that is demonstrably
better than the improvements we’ve made to our health care system – that
covers as many people at less cost – I will publicly support it.
That, after all, is why we serve – not to score points or take credit, but to make people’s lives better, not worse.
But
for all the real progress we’ve made, we know it’s not enough. Our
economy doesn’t work as well or grow as fast when a few prosper at the
expense of a growing middle class. That the economic argument. But
stark inequality is also corrosive to our democratic principles. While
the top one percent has amassed a bigger share of wealth and income, too
many families, in inner cities and rural counties, have been left
behind – the laid-off factory worker; the waitress or health care worker
who is barely getting by and struggling to pay the bills – convinced
that the game is fixed against them, that their government only serves
the interests of the powerful – a recipe for more cynicism and
polarization in our politics.
There are no quick fixes to this
long-term trend. I agree -- our trade should be fair and not just
free. But the next wave of economic dislocations won’t come from
overseas. It will come from the relentless pace of automation that
makes a lot of good, middle-class jobs obsolete.
And so we're going to have to forge a new social compact – to
guarantee all our kids the education they need; to give workers the
power to unionize for better wages; to update the social safety net to
reflect the way we live now and make more reforms to the tax code so
corporations and individuals who reap the most from this new economy
don’t avoid their obligations to the country that’s made their very
success possible. We can argue about how to best achieve these goals.
But we can’t be complacent about the goals themselves. For if we don’t
create opportunity for all people, the disaffection and division that
has stalled our progress will only sharpen in years to come.
There’s
a second threat to our democracy – one as old as our nation itself.
After my election, there was talk of a post-racial America. And such a
vision, however well-intended, was never realistic. Race remains a
potent and often divisive force in our society. Now, I’ve lived long
enough to know that race relations are better than they were ten, or
twenty, or thirty years ago no matter what some folks say. You can see
it not just in statistics. You can see it in the attitudes of young
Americans across the political spectrum.
But we’re not where we
need to be. All of us have more work to do. After all, if every
economic issue is framed as a struggle between a hardworking white
middle class and an undeserving minority, then workers of all shades
will be left fighting for scraps while the wealthy withdraw further into
their private enclaves. If we're unwilling to invest in the children
of immigrants, just because they don’t look like us, we diminish the
prospects of our own children -– because those brown kids will represent
a larger and larger share of America’s workforce. And we have shown
that our economy doesn’t have to be a zero-sum game. Last year, incomes
rose for all races, all age groups, for men and for women.
So
if we're going to be serious about race going forward, we must uphold
laws against discrimination – in hiring, in housing, in education and
the criminal justice system. That’s what our Constitution and highest
ideals require. But laws alone won’t be enough. Hearts must change. It
won't change overnight. Social attitudes often take generations to
change. But if our democracy is to work in this increasingly diverse
nation, each one of us must try to heed the advice of one of the great
characters in American fiction, Atticus Finch, who said “You never
really understand a person until you consider things from his point of
view … until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”
For
blacks and other minority groups, that means tying our own struggles
for justice to the challenges that a lot of people in this country face –
not only the refugee, or the immigrant, or the rural poor, or the
transgender American, but also the middle-aged white man who from the
outside may seem like he’s got all the advantages, but who’s seen his
world upended by economic, cultural, and technological change.
For
white Americans, it means acknowledging that the effects of slavery and
Jim Crow didn’t suddenly vanish in the ‘60s; that when minority groups
voice discontent, they’re not just engaging in reverse racism or
practicing political correctness; when they wage peaceful protest,
they’re not demanding special treatment, but the equal treatment that
our Founders promised.
For native-born Americans, it means
reminding ourselves that the stereotypes about immigrants today were
said, almost word for word, about the Irish, and Italians and Poles, who
it was said were going to destroy the fundamental character of America.
And as it turned out, America wasn’t weakened by the presence of these
newcomers; they embraced this nation’s creed, and it was strengthened.
So
regardless of the station we occupy; we have to try harder; we all have
to start with the premise that each of our fellow citizens loves this
country just as much as we do; that they value hard work and family like
we do; that their children are just as curious and hopeful and worthy
of love as our own.
For too many of us, it’s become safer to
retreat into our own bubbles, whether in our neighborhoods or college
campuses or places of worship or our social media feeds, surrounded by
people who look like us and share the same political outlook and never
challenge our assumptions. The rise of naked partisanship, increasing
economic and regional stratification, the splintering of our media into a
channel for every taste – all this makes this great sorting seem
natural, even inevitable. And increasingly, we become so secure in our
bubbles that we start accepting only information, whether it's true or
not, that fits our opinions, instead of basing our opinions on the
evidence that’s out there.
And this trend represents a third
threat to our democracy. Look, politics is a battle of ideas; that's how
our democracy was designed. In the course of a healthy debate, we
prioritize different goals and the different means of reaching them. But
without some common baseline of facts; without a willingness to admit
new information, and concede that your opponent is making a fair point,
and that science and reason matter, we’ll keep talking past each other,
making common ground and compromise impossible.
And isn’t that part of what makes politics
so dispiriting? How can elected officials rage about deficits when we
propose to spend money on preschool for kids, but not when we’re cutting
taxes for corporations? How do we excuse ethical lapses in our own
party, but pounce when the other party does the same thing? It’s not
just dishonest, this selective sorting of the facts; it’s
self-defeating. Because as my mom used to tell me, reality has a way of
catching up with you.
Take the challenge of climate change.
In just eight years, we’ve halved our dependence on foreign oil, we've
doubled our renewable energy, and we've led the world to an agreement
that has the promise to save this planet. But without bolder action,
our children won’t have time to debate the existence of climate change;
they’ll be busy dealing with its effects: more environmental disasters,
more economic disruptions, waves of climate refugees seeking sanctuary.
Now,
we can and should argue about the best approach to the problem. But to
simply deny the problem not only betrays future generations; it betrays
the essential spirit of this country, the essential spirit of
innovation and practical problem-solving that guided our Founders.
It
is that spirit, born of the Enlightenment, that made us an economic
powerhouse – the spirit that took flight at Kitty Hawk and Cape
Canaveral; the spirit that cures disease and put a computer in every
pocket.
It’s that spirit – a faith in reason, and enterprise,
and the primacy of right over might, that allowed us to resist the lure
of fascism and tyranny during the Great Depression, and build a
post-World War II order with other democracies, an order based not just
on military power or national affiliations but built on principles – the
rule of law, human rights, freedoms of religion, speech, assembly, and
an independent press.
That order is now being challenged – first
by violent fanatics who claim to speak for Islam; more recently by
autocrats in foreign capitals who see free markets, and open
democracies, and civil society itself as a threat to their power. The
peril each poses to our democracy is more far-reaching than a car bomb
or a missile. They represent the fear of change; the fear of people who
look or speak or pray differently; a contempt for the rule of law that
holds leaders accountable; an intolerance of dissent and free thought; a
belief that the sword or the gun or the bomb or propaganda machine is
the ultimate arbiter of what’s true and what’s right.
Because of
the extraordinary courage of our men and women in uniform, and the
intelligence officers, law enforcement, and diplomats who support them,
no foreign terrorist organization has successfully planned and executed
an attack on our homeland these past eight years; and although Boston
and Orlando and San Bernardino and Fort Hood remind us of how dangerous
radicalization can be, our law enforcement agencies are more effective
and vigilant than ever. We’ve taken out tens of thousands of terrorists
– including Osama bin Laden. The global coalition we’re leading
against ISIL has taken out their leaders, and taken away about half
their territory. ISIL will be destroyed, and no one who threatens
America will ever be safe. To all who serve, it has been the honor of
my lifetime to be your Commander-in-Chief.
But protecting our
way of life -- that's not just the job of our military. Democracy can
buckle when we give in to fear. So just as we, as citizens, must remain
vigilant against external aggression, we must guard against a weakening
of the values that make us who we are. And that’s why, for the past
eight years, I’ve worked to put the fight against terrorism on a firmer
legal footing. That’s why we’ve ended torture, worked to close Gitmo,
reformed our laws governing surveillance to protect privacy and civil
liberties. That’s why I reject discrimination against Muslim Americans,
who are just as patriotic as we are. That’s why we cannot withdraw
from big global fights – to expand democracy, and human rights, and
women’s rights, and LGBT rights – no matter how imperfect our efforts,
no matter how expedient ignoring such values may seem. That's part of
defending America. For the fight against extremism and intolerance and
sectarianism and chauvinism are of a piece with the fight against
authoritarianism and nationalist aggression. If the scope of freedom
and respect for the rule of law shrinks around the world, the likelihood
of war within and between nations increases, and our own freedoms will
eventually be threatened.
So let’s be vigilant, but not afraid.
ISIL will try to kill innocent people. But they cannot defeat America
unless we betray our Constitution and our principles in the fight.
Rivals like Russia or China cannot match our influence around the world –
unless we give up what we stand for, and turn ourselves into just
another big country that bullies smaller neighbors.
Which brings
me to my final point – our democracy is threatened whenever we take it
for granted. All of us, regardless of party, should be throwing
ourselves into the task of rebuilding our democratic institutions. When
voting rates in America are some of the lowest among advanced
democracies, we should make it easier, not harder, to vote. When trust
in our institutions is low, we should reduce the corrosive influence of
money in our politics, and insist on the principles of transparency and
ethics in public service. When Congress is dysfunctional, we should
draw our congressional districts to encourage politicians to cater to
common sense and not rigid extremes.
And remember -- none of
this happens on its own. All of this depends on our participation; on
each of us accepting the responsibility of citizenship, regardless of
which way the pendulum of power swings.
Our Constitution is a
remarkable, beautiful gift. But it’s really just a piece of parchment.
It has no power on its own. We, the people, give it power – we the
people give it meaning with our participation, and the choices we make
and the alliances that we form. Whether or not we stand up for our
freedoms. Whether or not we respect and enforce the rule of law.
America is no fragile thing. But the gains of our long journey to
freedom are not assured.
In his own farewell address, George
Washington wrote that self-government is the underpinning of our safety,
prosperity, and liberty, but “from different causes and from different
quarters much pains will be taken … to weaken in your minds the
conviction of this truth;” and so we have to preserve this truth with
“jealous anxiety”; that we should reject “the first dawning of every
attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest or to
enfeeble the sacred ties” that make us one.
America, we weaken
those ties when we allow our political dialogue to become so corrosive
that people of good character aren't even willing to enter into public
service; so coarse with rancor that Americans with whom we disagree are
not just misguided, but somehow malevolent. We weaken those ties when
we define some of us as more American than others; when we write off the
whole system as inevitably corrupt, and when we sit back and blame the
leaders we elect without examining our own role in electing them.
It
falls to each of us to be those anxious, jealous guardians of our
democracy; to embrace the joyous task we’ve been given to continually
try to improve this great nation of ours. Because for all our outward
differences, we in fact all share the same proud title, the most
important office in a democracy: citizen.
So, you see, that’s
what our democracy demands. It needs you. Not just when there’s an
election, not just when your own narrow interest is at stake, but over
the full span of a lifetime. If you’re tired of arguing with strangers
on the internet, try talking with one in real life. If something needs
fixing, then lace up your shoes and do some organizing. If you’re
disappointed by your elected officials, grab a clipboard, get some
signatures, and run for office yourself. Show up. Dive in. Stay at
it. Sometimes you’ll win. Sometimes you’ll lose. Presuming a
reservoir of goodness in other people, that can be a risk, and there
will be times when the process disappoints you. But for those of us
fortunate enough to have been a part of this work, and to see it up
close, let me tell you, it can energize and inspire. And more often
than not, your faith in America – and in Americans – will be confirmed.
Mine
sure has been. Over the course of these eight years, I’ve seen the
hopeful faces of young graduates and our newest military officers. I’ve
mourned with grieving families searching for answers, and found grace
in Charleston church. I’ve seen our scientists help a paralyzed man
regain his sense of touch. I've seen wounded warriors, who at points
were given up for dead, walk again. I’ve seen our doctors and
volunteers rebuild after earthquakes and stop pandemics in their
tracks. I’ve seen the youngest of children remind us of our obligations
to care for refugees, to work in peace, and above all to look out for
each other.
That faith I placed all those years ago, not far
from here, in the power of ordinary Americans to bring about change –
that faith has been rewarded in ways I could not have possibly
imagined. I hope yours has, too. Some of you here tonight or watching
at home were there with us in 2004, in 2008, in 2012. Maybe you still
can’t believe we pulled this whole thing off.
You’re not the
only ones. Michelle LaVaughn Robinson, girl of the South Side – for the
past 25 years, you’ve been not only my wife and mother of my children,
you have been my best friend. You took on a role you didn’t ask for and
made it your own with grace and with grit and with style and good
humor. You made the White House a place that belongs to everybody. And
a new generation sets its sights higher because it has you as a role
model. You have made me proud. And you have made the country proud.
Malia
and Sasha, under the strangest of circumstances, you have become two
amazing young women. You are smart and you are beautiful, but more
importantly, kind and thoughtful and full of passion. You wore the
burden of years in the spotlight so easily. Of all that I’ve done in my
life, I’m most proud to be your dad.
To
Joe Biden,
the scrappy kid from Scranton who became Delaware’s favorite son: you
were the first decision I made as a nominee, and it was the best. Not
just because you have been a great vice president, but because in the
bargain, I gained a brother. We love you and Jill like family, and your
friendship has been one of the great joys of our life.
To my
remarkable staff: For eight years – and for some of you, a whole lot
more – I’ve drawn from your energy, and every day I've tried to reflect
back what you displayed every day: heart, and character, and idealism.
I’ve watched you grow up, get married, have kids, and start incredible
new journeys of your own. Even when times got tough and frustrating,
you never let Washington get the better of you. You guarded against
cynicism. The only thing that makes me prouder than all the good we’ve
done is the thought of all the remarkable things you are going to
achieve from here.
And to all of you out there – every organizer
who moved to an unfamiliar town, every kind family who welcomed them
in, every volunteer who knocked on doors, every young person who cast a
ballot for the first time, every American who lived and breathed the
hard work of change – you are the best supporters and organizers anybody
could ever hope for, and I will forever be grateful. Because you did
change the world. You did.
That’s why I leave this stage tonight
even more optimistic about this country than I was when we started.
Because I know our work has not only helped so many Americans; it has
inspired so many Americans – especially so many young people out there –
to believe you can make a difference; to hitch your wagon to something
bigger than yourselves. Let me tell you, this generation coming up –
unselfish, altruistic, creative, patriotic – I’ve seen you in every
corner of the country. You believe in a fair and just and inclusive
America; you know that constant change has been America’s hallmark, that
it's not something to fear but to embrace, and you are willing to carry
this hard work of democracy forward. You’ll soon outnumber any of us,
and I believe as a result that the future is in good hands.
My
fellow Americans, it has been the honor of my life to serve you. I
won’t stop; in fact, I will be right there with you, as a citizen, for
all my remaining days. For now, whether you’re young or young at heart,
I do have one final ask of you as your president – the same thing I
asked when you took a chance on me eight years ago.
I am asking you to believe. Not in my ability to bring about change – but in yours.
I
am asking you to hold fast to that faith written into our founding
documents; that idea whispered by slaves and abolitionists; that spirit
sung by immigrants and homesteaders and those who marched for justice;
that creed reaffirmed by those who planted flags from foreign
battlefields to the surface of the moon; a creed at the core of every
American whose story is not yet written:
Yes We Can.
Yes We Did.
Yes We Can.
Thank you. God bless you. And may God continue to bless the United States of America.
Source: Chicago Tribune