Moses as master of rhetoric
During a family visit with a cousin over the weekend, we let the kids watch The Prince of Egypt—an animated movie about the life of Moses—in anticipation of Passover. The movie was entertaining (less gripping albeit more age-appropriate than the Charlton Heston epic I grew up watching) and sparked some interesting conversation.
If your childhood was not punctuated by yearly screenings of The Ten Commandments, here’s a short summary of the relevant parts of the story:
The Hebrew people were slaves in ancient Egypt under Pharaoh’s rule. When Pharaoh ordered that all newborn Hebrew boys be killed, a Hebrew woman named Yocheved placed her newborn son in a basket on the Nile and watched him float away. That baby was adopted by the Pharoah’s wife and named Moses. Moses was raised as an Egyptian with his adoptive brother Rameses. Years later, upon learning the truth of where he came from, Moses fled into the desert and became a shepherd. There he discovered a burning bush, through which God commanded him to return to Egypt and free the enslaved Hebrews. Moses did as he was told, and demanded that Rameses (who had replaced the previous Pharaoh) release the slaves, but Rameses refused. To punish Pharaoh, God unleashed a series of plagues. After the tenth and final plague—killing all the firstborn sons of Egypt—Rameses finally conceded. The following morning, Moses led the Hebrews out of Egypt.
At some point in the movie, my cousin commented that Moses was only able to do what he did because of his dual identity as an Egyptian and a Hebrew. The chosen leader couldn’t have been a Hebrew slave, because such a person wouldn’t have been able to communicate with Rameses. But Moses, owing to his unique backstory, could pass seamlessly between the Hebrews and the Egyptians. On the one hand, he could plead with Rameses for the release of the slaves. And on the other, he could successfully persuade the Hebrews to follow him out of Egypt.
It struck me that this impressive skill is applicable to legal writers. A hallmark of good legal writing—and of communication in general—is one’s ability to reach their audience. Can the writer explain their ideas to a specific group of readers using the language and terms that are familiar to that group? And can the readers, in turn, understand and absorb the information that the writer is conveying? Persuasive legal writing starts with that connection between reader and writer—a concept I explored in an earlier blog. Because the goal, after all, is for your readers to follow you—not through the desert for 40 years (that would be a tall order!), but through the structure of your piece.
As you lay out the issues, state the legal principles at play, apply those principles to the facts, and come to a conclusion, your aim is to show the reader that you’re worthy of their trust and confidence. That you’re a credible authority on the matter. And that you and your reader are on the same plane. A focus on plain language can help you achieve this while you maintain your authentic voice.
Effective legal writers can reach a broad range of readers by adjusting their language to suit each specific audience. This is no easy feat. When in doubt, consider reading your work out loud, having it reviewed by a peer, or enlisting the services of a competent editor. And if all else fails, you can always make like the master communicator himself, and flee to the desert to herd sheep.
Suggested reading:
The Book of Exodus