§ Darkening Words. I remember as a little
fella the family fights — the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners of a blended
Welsh-Scottish-Irish-English-American “Heinz 57” family, where the many acts of
passing the food around the long holiday table were punctuated by raised and
irritated voices. Along with the hint of fear and danger that lingered in their
shrill tones, there was a magical elusiveness in their words.
Every
kid knows the passwords to ‘otherness’ that spring up like weeds from the
essence of neighborhood life… we had our wops and dagos, a single group so much
bigger than life that it obviously needed more than one nickname, krauts, jews,
pollacks and bohunks (I was fostered by a neighboring one of these!), and of
course, the spooks and spicks, who were absent from our particular white-bread suburban
neighborhood.
What
our family gatherings were to teach me as a 6&7-year old, though, was an
entirely new word-category of peril: the Micks and the Orange Men, the Irish,
the Catholics and the Kennedys. And although I could not grasp the specific evil
particular to this man-group, voices fearfully raised in angry shouting and
fighting clearly meant to me that this new class of human represented a danger
to the America of my boyhood. This was to be my initiation into the
irrationality of the world.
§ Enlightening Words in a World of Possibilities. The specific historical event that was busy wrapping its
contextual web around me, yet all the while remaining veiled to my young eyes
and ears and mind, was the divisive yet popular young candidate for President
of the United States, Mr. John F. Kennedy, an Irish Catholic from Massachusetts,
who was soon to become the first Catholic President of the United States.
At the point of our telling, however,
this was clearly still just a problem in Protestant America.
Then, in September 1960, presidential
candidate Kennedy gave his now famous address to Protestant ministers on the
issue of religion and the American Constitution, and of his own relationship to
his religion, Catholicism, because it was a matter of national interest as to
whether the American presidency should be placed under the influence or control
of a foreign principality – the Vatican City, which is officially listed as an
ecclesiastical monarchy. As the source says, “At the time, many
Protestants questioned whether Kennedy's Roman Catholic faith would allow him
to make important national decisions as president independent of the church.
Kennedy addressed those concerns before a skeptical audience of Protestant
clergy.”
And this is the
America of freedom that Mr. Kennedy painted with his magical words [Transcript: JFK's Speech on His Religion (audio):]
[B]ecause I am a Catholic, and no Catholic
has ever been elected president, the real issues in this campaign have been
obscured — perhaps deliberately, in some quarters less responsible than this.
So it is apparently necessary for me to state once again not what kind of
church I believe in — for that should be important only to me — but what kind
of America I believe in.
I believe in an America where the separation
of church and state is absolute, where no Catholic prelate would tell the
president (should he be Catholic) how to act, and no Protestant minister would
tell his parishioners for whom to vote; where no church or church school is
granted any public funds or political preference; and where no man is denied
public office merely because his religion differs from the president who might
appoint him or the people who might elect him.
I believe in an America that is officially
neither Catholic, Protestant nor Jewish; where no public official either
requests or accepts instructions on public policy from the Pope, the National
Council of Churches or any other ecclesiastical source; where no religious body
seeks to impose its will directly or indirectly upon the general populace or
the public acts of its officials; and where religious liberty is so indivisible
that an act against one church is treated as an act against all.
For while this year it may be a Catholic
against whom the finger of suspicion is pointed, in other years it has been,
and may someday be again, a Jew— or a Quaker or a Unitarian or a Baptist. It
was Virginia's harassment of Baptist preachers, for example, that helped lead
to Jefferson's statute of religious freedom. Today I may be the victim, but
tomorrow it may be you — until the whole fabric of our harmonious society is
ripped at a time of great national peril.
Finally, I believe in an America where
religious intolerance will someday end; where all men and all churches are
treated as equal; where every man has the same right to attend or not attend
the church of his choice; where there is no Catholic vote, no anti-Catholic
vote, no bloc voting of any kind; and where Catholics, Protestants and Jews, at
both the lay and pastoral level, will refrain from those attitudes of disdain
and division which have so often marred their works in the past, and promote
instead the American ideal of brotherhood.
That is the kind of America in which I
believe. And it represents the kind of presidency in which I believe — a great
office that must neither be humbled by making it the instrument of any one
religious group, nor tarnished by arbitrarily withholding its occupancy from
the members of any one religious group. I believe in a president whose
religious views are his own private affair, neither imposed by him upon the
nation, or imposed by the nation upon him as a condition to holding that
office.
Read Mr. Kennedy’s response to the question
of religious freedom in America, measure that response against the dog &
pony show of religiosity and egregiously sanctimonious one-upmanship that the
Republicans are trotting out before the American public in preparation for the
2016 presidential elections—and weep in dismay.
President
Kennedy’s more general vision of freedom and responsibility of nations within
the world context is available on the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum site.
The 44th President of the United
States was the youngest president in U.S. history and the first Irish Catholic
to hold that office. He defeated the Republican candidate, Richard Nixon, and,
assuming office in January 1961, was assassinated on November 22, 1963.
That
was the strangest day in my young life, and became in fact the hallmark of existential
strangeness for a generation of Americans, who, each of them individually,
could tell you precisely where they were and what they were doing when they
learned that President Kennedy had been shot. There were only to be two other
strange, epoché days like
this in my American life—a long “day,” extending from April to June 1968, which
was a season of political assassinations in America, and September 11, 2001.
No matter what the theologians say, if
there should prove to be a God, then the “glory of God” cannot be intrinsic to
the essential logic of that Being; rather, that glory abides in a purely human
repository and is made manifest in the words and deeds of real men.
“He
is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,
He
is Wisdom to the mighty, he is Succour to the brave,
So
the world shall be his footstool, and the soul of wrong His slave…”
Perhaps more emblematic than his brother
due to the escalation of the war in Vietnam and the general social unrest that
marked the America of the 60s, Bobby Kennedy (1925-June 6, 1968), whose destiny
was never to become president of the United States, was perhaps the more true visionary
of enlightenment philosophy lived at street level. He had the old hymn’s “glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.”
Senator
Kennedy was a Democratic candidate in the 1968 presidential elections, which are
held in November. But Robert F. Kennedy was assassinated on June 6 of that
year. So the choice to sing the Battle Hymn of the Republic at his memorial service, held in St.
Patrick's Cathedral in New York City, was to become the enlightenment cornerstone
of my mid-adolescence: hearing the words of that hymn in that context, I grasped
for the first time, I comprehended, that transformation from religious metaphor
to social and political reality was not only possible, but that it was worthy
of the highest dreams and aspirations of free men, and that glory was truly
meant, first and foremost, to illuminate men’s dreams of enlightened freedom
and social peace.
“I
have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,
They
have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I
can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:
His
day is marching on.”
“As he died to make men holy…” Robert Kennedy was laid to rest in his coffin… so the first phrase
of the hymn sings to us of our loss, but because the possibility and the will
to freedom lives on from life to life, from the will of one free man to the
next, so the second phrase—“let us die to make men
free…,” lifts us up again to remind us that
enlightenment dreams for social justice have long lives—if men will make it so,
if I will make it so.
He
has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He
is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat:
Oh,
be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant, my feet!
His
truth is marching on.
Leaving behind the intonation of the hymn,
let us consider the resonance of exhortation and the strength to move men’s
minds that were embodied by Bobby’s reasoned words in his “Day of Affirmation”
speech: “This world demands the qualities of youth;
not a time of life but a state of mind, a temper of the will, a quality of the
imagination, a predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for
adventure over the love of ease.”
There have been and will yet be others who speak out such words of freedom. But Bobby Kennedy was a shining glory come to speak out freedom and to make straight the ways of men, peacefully and with respect (Teddy Kennedy’s eulogy).
There have been and will yet be others who speak out such words of freedom. But Bobby Kennedy was a shining glory come to speak out freedom and to make straight the ways of men, peacefully and with respect (Teddy Kennedy’s eulogy).
Mine
eyes have seen the glory and heard the words, and the younger version of me knew
that if we, if I, do not exhaust all my strength and will and energy in the
struggle of free men for self-affirmation, then in the vast halls of human
darkness and slavery we will all be trampled out in the vintage where the
grapes of wrath are stored—for this is the vintage of destiny that we prepare
to pour out upon the world if we fail to create ourselves as free men.
In
one of his speeches, occasioned by an event of great national sadness, on the
evening of April 4th, 1968 RFK is called by fate to announce to a crowd in
Indiana the assassination of the Revered Martin Luther King, some 4 and ½ years
after King’s immensely important March on Washington and his “I Have A Dream Speech.”
Quoting from the Greek poet, Aeschylus, Kennedy discourages that crowd, and us,
some 45 years on, from hatred and bitterness, and encourages us all to 'Tame
the savageness of man and [to] make gentle the life of this world.'
In the beauty of the
lilies, a dream was born across the seas: bathe in the words….
Robert F. Kennedy
University of Cape Town, South Africa
N.U.S.A.S. "Day of Affirmation" Speech June 6th, 1966
I came here because of my deep interest and affection for a land settled by the Dutch in the mid-seventeenth century, then taken over by the British, and at last independent; a land in which the native inhabitants were at first subdued, but relations with whom remain a problem to this day; a land which defined itself on a hostile frontier; a land which has tamed rich natural resources through the energetic application of modern technology; a land which once imported slaves, and now must struggle to wipe out the last traces of that former bondage. I refer, of course, to the United States of America.
But I am glad to come here to South Africa. I am already enjoying my visit. I am making an effort to meet and exchange views with people from all walks of life, and all segments of South African opinion, including those who represent the views of the government. Today I am glad to meet with the National Union of South African Students. For a decade, NUSAS has stood and worked for the principles of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights-principles which embody the collective hopes of men of good will all around the world.
Your work, at home and in international student affairs, has brought great credit to yourselves and to your country. I know the National Student Association in the United States feels a particularly close relationship to NUSAS. And I wish to thank especially Mr. Ian Robertson, who first extended this invitation on behalf of NUSAS, for his kindness to me. It's too bad he can't be with us today.
This is a Day of Affirmation, a celebration of liberty. We stand here in the name of freedom. At the heart of that Western freedom and democracy is the belief that the individual man, the child of God, is the touchstone of value, and all society, groups, the state, exist for his benefit. Therefore the enlargement of liberty for individual human beings must be the supreme goal and the abiding practice of any Western society.
The first element of this individual liberty is the freedom of speech: the right to express and communicate ideas, to set oneself apart from the dumb beasts of field and forest; to recall governments to their duties and obligations; above all, the right to affirm one's membership and allegiance to the body politic-to society-to the men with whom we share our land, our heritage, and our children's future.
Hand in hand with freedom of speech goes the power to be heard, to share in the decisions of government which shape men's lives. Everything that makes man's life worthwhile-family, work, education, a place to rear one's children and a place to rest one's head -all this depends on decisions of government; all can be swept away by a government which does not heed the demands of its people. Therefore, the essential humanity of men can be protected and preserved only where government must answer-not just to the wealthy, not just to those of a particular religion, or a particular race, but to all its people.
And even government by the consent of the governed, as in our own Constitution, must be limited in its power to act against its people; so that there may be no interference with the right to worship, or with the security of the home; no arbitrary imposition of pains or penalties by officials high or low; no restrictions on the freedom of men to seek education or work or opportunity of any kind, so that each man may become all he is capable of becoming.
These are the sacred rights of Western society. These were the essential differences between us and Nazi Germany, as they were between Athens and Persia.
They are the essence of our differences with communism today. I am unalterably opposed to communism because it exalts the state over the individual and the family, and because of the lack of freedom of speech, of protest, of religion, and of the press, which is the characteristic of totalitarian states. The way of opposition to communism is not to imitate its dictatorship, but to enlarge individual freedom, in our own countries and all over the globe. There are those in every land who would label as Communist every threat to their privilege. But as I have seen on my travels in all sections of the world, reform is not communism. And the denial of freedom, in whatever name, only strengthens the very communism it claims to oppose.
Many nations have set forth their own definitions and declarations of these principles. And there have often been wide and tragic gaps between promise and performance, ideal and reality. Yet the great ideals have constantly recalled us to our duties. And-with painful slowness-we have extended and enlarged the meaning and the practice of freedom for all our people.
For two centuries, my own country has struggled to overcome the self-imposed handicap of prejudice and discrimination based on nationality, social class, or race-discrimination profoundly repugnant to the theory and command of our Constitution. Even as my father grew up in Boston, signs told him that No Irish Need Apply. Two generations later President Kennedy became the first Catholic to head the nation; but how many men of ability had, before 1961, been denied the opportunity to contribute to the nation's progress because they were Catholic, or of Irish extraction? How many sons of Italian or Jewish or Polish parents slumbered in slums-untaught, unlearned, their potential lost forever to the nation and human race? Even today, what price will we pay before we have assured full opportunity to millions of Negro Americans?
In the last five years we have done more to assure equality to our Negro citizens, and to help the deprived both white and black, than in the hundred years before. But much more remains to be done.
For there are millions of Negroes untrained for the simplest of jobs, and thousands every day denied their full equal rights under the law; and the violence of the disinherited, the insulted and injured, looms over the streets of Harlem and Watts and South Side Chicago.
But a Negro American trains as an astronaut, one of mankind's first explorers into outer space; another is the chief barrister of the United States government, and dozens sit on the benches of court; and another, Dr. Martin Luther King, is the second man of African descent to win the Nobel Peace Prize for his nonviolent efforts for social justice between races.
We have passed laws prohibiting discrimination in education, in employment, in housing, but these laws alone cannot overcome the heritage of centuries-of broken families and stunted children, and poverty and degradation and pain.
So the road toward equality of freedom is not easy, and great cost and danger march alongside us. We are committed to peaceful and nonviolent change, and that is important for all to understand though all change is unsettling. Still, even in the turbulence of protest and struggle is greater hope for the future, as men learn to claim and achieve for themselves the rights formerly petitioned from others.
And most important of all, all the panoply of government power has been committed to the goal of equality before the law, as we are now committing ourselves to the achievement of equal opportunity in fact.
We must recognize the full human equality of all of our people before God, before the law, and in the councils of government. We must do this, not because it is economically advantageous, although it is; not because of the laws of God command it, although they do; not because people in other lands wish it so. We must do it for the single and fundamental reason that it is the right thing to do.
We recognize that there are problems and obstacles before the fulfilment of these ideals in the United States, as we recognize that other nations, in Latin America and Asia and Africa, have their own political, economic, and social problems, their unique barriers to the elimination of injustices.
In some, there is concern that change will submerge the rights of a minority, particularly where the minority is of a different race from the majority. We in the United States believe in the protection of minorities; we recognize the contributions they can make and the leadership they can provide; and we do not believe that any people -whether minority, majority, or individual human beings-are "expendable" in the cause of theory or policy. We recognize also that justice between men and nations is imperfect, and that humanity sometimes progresses slowly.
All do not develop in the same manner, or at the same pace. Nations, like men, often march to the beat of different drummers, and the precise solutions of the United States can neither be dictated nor transplanted to others. What is important is that all nations must march toward increasing freedom; toward justice for all; toward a society strong and flexible enough to meet the demands of all its own people, and a world of immense and dizzying change.
In a few hours, the plane that brought me to this country crossed over oceans and countries which have been a crucible of human history. In minutes we traced the migration of men over thousands of years; seconds, the briefest glimpse, and we passed battlefields on which millions of men once struggled and died. We could see no national boundaries, no vast gulfs or high walls dividing people from people; only nature and the works of man-homes and factories and farms-everywhere reflecting man's common effort to enrich his life. Everywhere new technology and communications bring men and nations closer together, the concerns of one inevitably becoming the concerns of all. And our new closeness is stripping away the false masks, the illusion of difference which is at the root of injustice and hate and war. Only earthbound man still clings to the dark and poisoning superstition that his world is bounded by the nearest hill, his universe ended at river shore, his common humanity enclosed in the tight circle of those who share his town and views and the color of his skin. It is your job, the task of the young people of this world, to strip the last remnants of that ancient, cruel belief from the civilization of man.
Each nation has different obstacles and different goals, shaped by the vagaries of history and of experience. Yet as I talk to young people around the world I am impressed not by the diversity but by the closeness of their goals, their desires and their concerns and their hope for the future. There is discrimination in New York, the racial inequality of apartheid in South Africa, and serfdom in the mountains of Peru. People starve in the streets of India, a former Prime Minister is summarily executed in the Congo, intellectuals go to jail in Russia, and thousands are slaughtered in Indonesia; wealth is lavished on armaments everywhere in the world. These are differing evils; but they are the common works of man. They reflect the imperfections of human justice, the inadequacy of human compassion, the defectiveness of our sensibility toward the sufferings of our fellows; they mark the limit of our ability to use knowledge for the well-being of our fellow human beings throughout the world. And therefore they call upon common qualities of conscience and indignation, a shared determination to wipe away the unnecessary sufferings of our fellow human beings at home and around the world.
It is these qualities which make of youth today the only true international community. More than this I think that we could agree on what kind of a world we would all want to build. It would be a world of independent nations, moving toward international community, each of which protected and respected the basic human freedoms. It would be a world which demanded of each government that it accept its responsibility to insure social justice. It would be a world of constantly accelerating economic progress-not material welfare as an end in itself, but as a means to liberate the capacity of every human being to pursue his talents and to pursue his hopes. It would, in short, be a world that we would be proud to have built.
Just to the north of here are lands of challenge and opportunity-rich in natural resources, land and minerals and people. Yet they are also lands confronted by the greatest odds-overwhelming ignorance, internal tensions and strife, and great obstacles of climate and geography. Many of these nations, as colonies, were oppressed and exploited. Yet they have not estranged themselves from the broad traditions of the West; they are hoping and gambling their progress and stability on the chance that we will meet our responsibilities to help them overcome their poverty.
In the world we would like to build, South Africa could play an outstanding role in that effort. This is without question a preeminent repository of the wealth and knowledge and skill of the continent. Here are the greater part of Africa's research scientists and steel production, most of its reservoirs of coal and electric power. Many South Africans have made major contributions to African technical development and world science; the names of some are known wherever men seek to eliminate the ravages of tropical diseases and pestilence. In your faculties and councils, here in this very audience, are hundreds and thousands of men who could transform the lives of millions for all time to come.
But the help and the leadership of South Africa or the United States cannot be accepted if we-within our own countries or in our relations with others-deny individual integrity, human dignity, and the common humanity of man. If we would lead outside our borders, if we would help those who need our assistance, if we would meet our responsibilities to mankind, we must first, all of us, demolish the borders which history has erected between men within our own nations-barriers of race and religion, social class and ignorance.
Our answer is the world's hope; it is to rely on youth. The cruelties and obstacles of this swiftly changing planet will not yield to obsolete dogmas and outworn slogans. It cannot be moved by those who cling to a present which is already dying, who prefer the illusion of security to the excitement and danger which comes with even the most peaceful progress.
This world demands the qualities of youth; not a time of life but a state of mind, a temper of the will, a quality of the imagination, a predominance of courage over timidity, of the appetite for adventure over the love of ease. It is a revolutionary world we live in, and thus, as I have said in Latin America and Asia, in Europe and in the United States, it is young people who must take the lead. Thus you, and your young compatriots everywhere, have had thrust upon you a greater burden of responsibility than any generation that has ever lived.
"There is," said an Italian philosopher, "nothing more difficult to take in hand, more perilous to conduct, or more uncertain in its success than to take the lead in the introduction of a new order of things." Yet this is the measure of the task of your generation, and the road is strewn with many dangers.
First, is the danger of futility: the belief there is nothing one man or one woman can do against the enormous array of the world's ills-against misery and ignorance, injustice and violence. Yet many of the world's greatest movements, of thought and action, have flowed from the work of a single man. A young monk began the Protestant Reformation, a young general extended an empire from Macedonia to the borders of the earth, and a young woman reclaimed the territory of France. It was a young Italian explorer who discovered the New World, and the thirty-two-year-old Thomas Jefferson who proclaimed that all men are created equal.
"Give me a place to stand," said Archimedes, "and I will move the world." These men moved the world, and so can we all. Few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total of all those acts will be written the history of this generation. Thousands of Peace Corps volunteers are making a difference in isolated villages and city slums in dozens of countries. Thousands of unknown men and women in Europe resisted the occupation of the Nazis and many died, but all added to the ultimate strength and freedom of their countries. It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.
"If Athens shall appear great to you," said Pericles, "consider then that her glories were purchased by valiant men, and by men who learned their duty." That is the source of all greatness in all societies, and it is the key to progress in our time.
The second danger is that of expediency; of those who say that hopes and beliefs must bend before immediate necessities. Of course, if we would act effectively we must deal with the world as it is. We must get things done. But if there was one thing President Kennedy stood for that touched the most profound feelings of young people around the world, it was the belief that idealism, high aspirations, and deep convictions are not incompatible with the most practical and efficient of programs-that there is no basic inconsistency between ideals and realistic possibilities, no separation between the deepest desires of heart and of mind and the rational application of human effort to human problems. It is not realistic or hard-headed to solve problems and take action unguided by ultimate moral aims and values, although we all know some who claim that it is so. In my judgment, it is thoughtless folly. For it ignores the realities of human faith and of passion and of belief-forces ultimately more powerful than all of the calculations of our economists or of our generals. Of course to adhere to standards, to idealism, to vision in the face of immediate dangers takes great courage and takes self-confidence. But we also know that only those who dare to fail greatly, can ever achieve greatly.
It is this new idealism which is also, I believe, the common heritage of a generation which has learned that while efficiency can lead to the camps at Auschwitz, or the streets of Budapest, only the ideals of humanity and love can climb the hills of the Acropolis.
A third danger is timidity. Few men are willing to brave the disapproval of their fellows, the censure of their colleagues, the wrath of their society. Moral courage is a rarer commodity than bravery in battle or great intelligence. Yet it is the one essential, vital quality of those who seek to change a world which yields most painfully to change. Aristotle tells us that "At the Olympic games it is not the finest and the strongest men who are crowned, but they who enter the lists...
So too in the life of the honorable and the good it is they who act rightly who win the prize." I believe that in this generation those with the courage to enter the moral conflict will find themselves with companions in every corner of the world.
For the fortunate among us, the fourth danger is comfort, the temptation to follow the easy and familiar paths of personal ambition and financial success so grandly spread before those who have the privilege of education. But that is not the road history has marked out for us. There is a Chinese curse which says "May he live in interesting times." Like it or not we live in interesting times. They are times of danger and uncertainty; but they are also more open to the creative energy of men than any other time in history. And everyone here will ultimately be judged-will ultimately judge himself-on the effort he has contributed to building a new world society and the extent to which his ideals and goals have shaped that effort.
So we part, I to my country and you to remain. We are-if a man of forty can claim that privilege-fellow members of the world's largest younger generation. Each of us have our own work to do. I know at times you must feel very alone with your problems and difficulties. But I want to say how impressed I am with what you stand for and the effort you are making; and I say this not just for myself, but for men and women everywhere. And I hope you will often take heart from the knowledge that you are joined with fellow young people in every land, they struggling with their problems and you with yours, but all joined in a common purpose; that, like the young people of my own country and of every country I have visited, you are all in many ways more closely united to the brothers of your time than to the older generations of any of these nations; and that you are determined to build a better future. President Kennedy was speaking to the young people of America, but beyond them to young people everywhere, when he said that "the energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it-and the glow from that fire can truly light the world."
And he added, "With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.
This was for you, Ant (March 7, 1953 - June 4, 2015).
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