Debating JFK
(continued)
by Seth Gitell
One central difference between Kennedy and our current presidential candidates
lies not in family background or appearance, but in ideas. Martin Peretz,
writing in the New Republic on August 21, described Bush as an
"outer-directed" man who takes his cues on how to behave from the actions of
those around him. Both Kennedy and Gore, on the other hand, are
"inner-directed" men who take their values from within. That may be true, but
there is a key difference between these two. Kennedy was a big-picture man --
which may have been easier during his times, which were defined by one big
enemy, the Soviet Union. Gore can be considered an idea man, but he's a man of
small ideas.
To be sure, Gore was an early supporter of funding for the military computer
project that became the Internet. He quickly identified the environment as a
growing global problem. And he stood up for some defense projects. But Gore's
programs lack a certain coherence, a failing that is reflected in the public's
uneasiness about who he really is. Is Gore the senator who defined a fetus as
"life" or the vice-president who now defends Roe v. Wade? Is he the
senator who crossed party lines to vote to authorize the Gulf War, or the
vice-president who supported dramatic cuts in the military? Is he the
presidential candidate who wanted Elián González to remain in the
United States and backs a politically timed release of oil from the national
reserves, or the principled antithesis to Bill Clinton? Is he the candidate who
raises money from Hollywood or the vice-president who has declared himself the
watchdog of violent Hollywood films?
Just look at the books written by each man. Gore's Earth in the Balance:
Ecology and the Human Spirit is a mishmash of science, rhetoric, and the
language of self-realization: "Now, in midlife, as I search through the layers
of received knowledge and intuited truth woven into my life, I can't help but
notice similar layers of artifice and authenticity running through the
civilization of which I am part." Compare that with Kennedy's Profiles in
Courage, which dealt with senators who voted against the will of
their constituents. "All of us in the Senate meet endless examples of
. . . conflicting pressures, which only reflect the inconsistencies
inevitable in our complex economy," Kennedy wrote. "If we tell our constituents
frankly that we can do nothing, they feel we are unsympathetic or inadequate.
If we try and fail -- usually meeting a counteraction from other Senators
representing other interests -- they say we are like all the rest of the
politicians." The book was a crisp, readable contribution to the chronicles of
the Senate -- and no matter how much his speechwriter Sorensen may have helped,
the animating spirit was Kennedy's.
One thing that's been lost in the haze of time is the extent to which Kennedy
ran for president as a hawk: Profiles in Courage was laden with Cold War
steel. "In the days ahead, only the very courageous will be able to take the
hard and unpopular decisions necessary for our survival in the struggle with a
powerful enemy," Kennedy wrote. To him, the problem with Eisenhower and his boy
Nixon was that they weren't contesting the Soviets around the globe vigorously
enough. And to the extent domestic issues mattered, they mattered because they
opened the possibility that America might be falling behind the Soviet Union.
This attitude is clear from Kennedy's opening statement at his first debate
with Nixon: "In the election of 1860, Abraham Lincoln said the question was
whether this nation could exist half-slave or half-free. In the election of
1960, and with the world around us, the question is whether the world will
exist half-slave or half-free." Today many people -- especially those on the
left -- might be happy that both candidates take a less Manichean approach to
the world. After all, Kennedy's inaugural call to "pay any price, bear any
burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe" led directly to
America's involvement in Vietnam.
Still, in his desire that America compete in the Cold War and win -- quite
reminiscent of the internal Kennedy-family battles -- Kennedy called upon the
American people to serve. He engaged the public. Government could provide
services to the aged, sick, and poor, he suggested, but ordinary citizens had
to shoulder the burdens as well. Contrast that with the laundry list of
promises made by today's candidates: tax cuts, prescription-drug benefits, and
a balanced budget. Gore goes even further, pledging to find cures for diabetes
and AIDS. They offer nothing but goodies to a carefree and indifferent people.
It may be what we want, but it isn't what we need.
Politically, Kennedy was a pragmatist, a Cold Warrior who backed civil rights.
He was youthful but hardened, seasoned by war and family tragedies. He wasn't
perfect. His administration wasn't Camelot. He made mistakes. His blunders
prompted confrontations with the Soviet Union. Ultimately, he died so early
that a full assessment of his presidency can't be made. Yet he had a vision.
The number and scope of Kennedy's initiatives is dizzying. Foreign affairs, the
Peace Corps, the space program -- all these take up a sizable part of the
exhibition area in the Kennedy Library.
Maybe Gore or Bush will do as much or more during one term in office. But at
this stage, neither has the depth the young Kennedy had when his presidency
began -- which critics at the time thought was minimal. (Kennedy was only 44
years old when he was sworn in as president. Gore is 52 and Bush is 54.) Bush
gives us only a six-year record as the governor of Texas to examine. With Gore,
we have a much fuller résumé, but no more insight into what lies
within the candidate and the man.
At the debate Tuesday night, the candidates will face more than each other.
They will face a myth. And even the flawed man beneath that myth was more than
either candidate is today.
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Seth Gitell can be reached at sgitell[a]phx.com.
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