by Jules Witcover

The 50th anniversary of the inauguration of President John F. Kennedy came and went with echoes of his now-famous address on the steps of the Capitol, but little of the deep feeling of national renewal that marked that occasion.

Then, the presence of the young and handsome Irishman of wit and grace cut through the bitterness of an uncommonly frigid Washington winter. The pre-inaugural comings and goings of the prospective first couple, the warm grin of Jack and the cool aristocratic beauty of Jackie, had already ignited a sense among many onlookers of a new American royalty soon to be trumpeted by romantics as another Camelot.

Kennedy's bold declaration that "the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans" and that "we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty" served notice that he did not intend to be anybody's pushover.

But he also affirmed that he would continue the thrust of FDR's New Deal, observing that, "if a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich." And in words that echo today, he said, "civility is not a sign of weakness," adding: "my fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you -- ask what you can do for your country."

Two years ago, much of the same glow of national renewal was marked in the inauguration of the first African-American to become president, another young man promising change, this time amid high public hopes. But by last Thursday, when Barack Obama spoke at a Kennedy Center celebration of the 50th anniversary of that earlier inauguration, he did so amid public doubts of his ability to deliver.

He admitted he did not "have my own memories of that day," having not been born "until later that year." But he conjured up an accurate scene of "the crowd, bundled up for the cold, making their way through streets white with snow, full of expectation. A nation, feeling young again, its mood brightened by the promise of a new decade."

What he knew of Kennedy, he said, "came from a mother and grandparents who adored him; from books I read and classes I took; from growing up in a country still mourning its beloved leader, whose name was spoken with reverence. And I know him through the legacy of his children and his brother Teddy who became extraordinarily dear friends of mine."

Obama went on: "I know him, John F. Kennedy, less as a man than as an icon, as a larger-than-life figure who graced this Earth for one brief and shining moment," but "we must remember him as he was -- as a father who loved his children, as a friend who lived life fully, as a noble public servant who wanted to make a difference."

He recited JFK's achievements, from avoiding nuclear war in his showdown with the Soviet Union over the Cuban missile crisis to putting the first man on the moon. Then, associating himself with the central direction of Kennedy's shortened life, he cited poet Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. writing that "it is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving: to reach the port of heaven, we must sail sometimes with the wind and sometimes against it -- but we must sail, and not drift, nor lie at anchor."

Despite Obama's somewhat forced effort to cast himself as carrying forward the torch dropped by Kennedy, he appears from public-opinion polls to have lost some of that initial identification with the hopes and aspirations of the days of Camelot.

In another sense, however, the political pragmatism seen in Obama in the post-midterm election days of compromise is not alien to Kennedy's own caution on issues of ideology. In his support of civil rights equality in the 1960s, for example, he walked the talk in measured steps before his successor, Lyndon Johnson, completed the task. It remains to be seen whether Obama will in the end be regarded as a true and effective JFK disciple.

 

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Obama Remembers JFK | Politics

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