The Word Sommelier, in plying his humble trade, often notes remarkable examples of redundancy in language that attempts to be persuasive. Persuasiveness is, all things being equal, a good thing, and artful use of redundancy is a basic ingredient in many rhetorical formulas. Still, it is worth considering how the art of rhetoric manages to instill credulity in us.
Not all redundancies are equally benign.
Credit for today's Word Sommelier offering goes to JedReport's rec list diary, "McCain's All-Time Greatest Dodge".
The technical term for the rhetorical use of semantically redundant words is pleonasm. Here I have highlighted one well known example of pleonasm from Dr. King's famous I Have a Dream speech.
And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring - when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children - black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics - will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!"
Now most people hearing this would accept without much argument that "All God's Children" means, at the very least, all of humanity. Logically, it is unnecessary to stipulate that this includes "black men" or "Jews" or "Catholics" or "Protestants" because any member of these groups would also be human, and therefore equally be one of "God's children".
Or maybe not. Just as in the view of many, some animals are more equal than others, perhaps some people are considered more human than others, at least when it comes to their share of the honours and privileges appertaining thereunto. And that's why this particular pleonasm is so powerful, because it starts with a platitude and reaches around to pull out your subconscious dirty laundry, the secret exceptions you might harbor for yourself and your pet prejudices.
It is sometimes necessary to use pleonasm to assert a precise statement in the face of imprecise thinking.
With that in mind, let's examine the phrase "Radical Islamic Extremism". The dictionary definitions of "radical" and "extremist" overlap without being identical, so it is at least theoretically possible to be one in contradistinction to the other. Certain Christians may have unusually harsh scriptural views on the salvation of the elect, but still be quite tolerant and moderate in their actions towards their nearly-certainly-damned neighbors. One might draw the distinction that they are radical, without being extremist, although this is certainly a bit contrived.
"Extremist" means one who holds views and advocates actions well outside the ordinary. The word "extreme" literally means at a boundary, coming from the superlative form of the same Latin word from which we derive "exterior". An extreme is not only outside the norm, it's approximately as outside the norm as it's possible to get. At times "extreme" has been used with relative and superlative modifiers (e.g. "more extreme", "most extreme"), a practice which Dr. Johnson condemned much in the way modern usage hawks seize upon "very unique". "Radical" means departing markedly from the ordinary. It comes from the same Latin ... root ... as "radish" (L. radix for "root"), so there is an implication of etiology in the diagnosis of "radicalism". Radicalism is, perhaps, that form of extremism that come from searching for roots or messing around with foundations.
Still, figuratively, the "root" of a thing is an extreme. Whether an extreme constitutes a "root" or not probably depends on exactly whose world view is believed to be upside down. "Radical" and "extreme" are so closely related in their metaphorical senses that they are, if not precisely interchangeable, nearly always usable alternatives for each other, depending on what in particular you wish to emphasize.
It's probably more useful to consider what people that use this term believe about "radical Islamic extremists" than it is to consider the individual dictionary meanings of the words. It seems improbable that we're meant to understand that some Islamic extremists are decent enough blokes, but those radical extremists in their ranks are bad apples. The people who are fond of this term seem to understand "Islamic extremists" and "Radical islamists" to be precisely the same groups.
So, "radical islamic extremist" is a pleonasm, one that is constructed for a rhetorical effect very different than in the case of Dr. King's pleonasm.
Now, the Word Sommelier is quite aware that he might be overanalyzing this. People can be artlessly prolix when they speak or write. But people also can be logically imprecise, which accounts for a great deal redundancy. It's quite fair to say that when one encounters imprecision in persuasive communication, it's a warning sign.
Recently, there was a recommended diary in which a McCain campaign official threatened the use of the Reverand Wright issue against Obama. In the official's remarks, he called that issue an "existential reality". Without mocking this particularly stupid phrase (at least more than once, which would be immoderate) let me observe that "existential" doesn't really mean anything here, unless you accept that some realities can be make believe as opposed to others that are "really real". "Existential" is just there to buttress the word "real".
These kinds of misbegotten phrases are, I suppose, pleonasms. Even so, they deserve their own term to distinguish them from a well plotted rhetorical turn. I'd call them "semantically empty amplifiers", or perhaps "façade buttresses" if you prefer a metaphor. Consider the raconteur who concludes every other statement in his story with "honest!" as if he could somehow bootstrap his credibility by admitting that often, yes, he does lie. Logically, such people may be being completely honest, it's just a bit fishy when people stick decorative but non-functional props into their statements.
When Dr. King uses apparent redundancy, it serves to make his point more clear and precise. The problem with the phrase "radical Islamic extremism" is that it is a style of rhetoric that places greater emphasis on gross tonnage than precision. Once a phrase like that escapes into the wild, it gains a life of its own and must run it course. We can't automatically condemn every usage of this. The term is not self-contradictory, just suspiciously eager to be accepted uncritically, as if the phrase itself was a talisman that proves the speaker's world view must be accepted. I mistrust this kind of rhetoric, as I would mistrust a prosecutor who might make a special point of calling the defendant an "thieving robber". It would sound to me like he's trying to conjure up a double helping of enmity where he's only got enough facts to justify one. As deserving of enmity as the defendant may be, there might well be other ways in which the prosecutor's argument is debased with bulk materials.
We should be wary of people who habitually spend words as if they don't signify much.
Now don't bait the Word Sommelier with the neologism "Islamofascism". Any man who seriously uses that term should be ashamed to kiss the mother of his children with that same mouth.