The Speech that Led Us to the Moon

As we approach July 20th and the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 landing on the Moon, the focus will naturally be on the astronauts and their journey. Yet we should also recall that the lunar landing may not have happened save for a brief speech on a warm September day a long time ago.

It might be surprising to Americans today, accustomed to media sound bites, “fake news,” and general unfamiliarity with the art of oratory, that a speech can persuade minds and even turn the course of history. It has the power to reshape attitudes and behaviors. A great speech, like a great book or film, makes you ponder and reflect long after you have absorbed it.

Most of the great orations of the past exist today as transcriptions, sometimes quite inaccurate in their recording. The actual words of Pericles and Mark Antony are lost to history; we hope that medieval copyists give us their essence if not their original flavor. Even in the modern era, a speech that comes to us in print may not be the one that was actually delivered. The oft-cited example of the Gettysburg Address demonstrates how the text can be misremembered or misrecorded and in most cases cannot capture the diction, cadence, and manner of the speaker.

The first voice recording we have of a president is a fragment of Benjamin Harrison speaking about the first Pan-American Congress in 1889;¹ it is barely enough, but sufficient to suggest what the elocution of a late 19th-century orator sounded like. A few other early recordings of 19th-century public figures such as William Jennings Bryan and P.T. Barnum impress upon a listener how public speech in the Victorian era compares to the efforts of our contemporary practitioners, those loquacious beneficiaries of content-optional high-definition video and surround sound.

Yet it was a gradual descent into our current mediagenic morass where anyone with something to say can act the amateur journalist, policy maven, or podcaster. Although TV and video technology advanced rapidly in the 1950s, it took a while for public figures to become aware (and consequently self-aware) that they could adopt the affectations of film stars and dictators to enthrall the home audience and still give a coherent speech. Thus the film and TV appearances of public figures in the late 1950s and early 1960s have a verisimilitude that is seldom found in our century; they preserve a momentary balance of form and content before the medium engulfed the message.

My exemplar here is President Kennedy’s speech at Rice University on September 12, 1962. This is the now-famous “Moon” speech that JFK delivered before an audience of 40,000 gathered in Rice Stadium.² The rhetorical power of his remarks still resonates today and can be compared favorably with speeches by any of his successors. For those of us too young to recall Kennedy or the Apollo missions, it’s remarkable that, through technology, we can still appreciate this 18-minute speech and the achievements that followed from it.

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Notes:

¹ Thomas Edison wrote in his diary that he demonstrated the first version of his recording phonograph for Rutherford Hayes at the White House in April 1878. Unfortunately, no surviving recording of the president’s voice has ever been discovered.
² This is the original video as partially restored by NASA, and you will see about halfway through the video, the quality improves dramatically. The figure just behind the president (wearing sunglasses) is Vice President Johnson, the chair of the National Aeronautics and Space Council and the primary force behind Project Apollo. Also, note that the Venus space probe referred to by the president is Mariner 2, which in December 1962 became the first spacecraft to reach another planet.

Photo credit: Robert Knudsen. White House Photographs. John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, Boston

Remembering the Armistice

This past weekend we commemorated the 100th anniversary of the Armistice and the end of World War I. As I have spoken about the Great War with people of different ages and backgrounds, the main question that came up was “what was the Armistice again?” Now to be fair, the First World War doesn’t really get extensive coverage in US history textbooks, and of course, none of us have a living memory of the war. This is an interesting lacuna in our historical awareness, considering how profoundly the conflict shaped the world we live in.

The catastrophic combination of 19th-century military leadership and 20th-century weapons resulted in almost incomprehensible death and destruction. New weapons technology and mass production transformed the conduct of warfare: improved artillery, submarines, chemical weapons (tear gas, chlorine, phosgene, and mustard gas), tanks, and combat aircraft were introduced with horrifying consequences. By the end of the war, the old empires of the 1800s — Russia, Germany, Austria, and the Ottomans — had either collapsed or had suffered a diminution of power. Into the void arose the 20th-century plague of authoritarian nationalism and its extreme manifestation, fascism.

This underscores the value of history and the peril we face by continuing our long tradition of ignoring our own past. Today the patriotic pride we feel as Americans is threatened by the resurgence of nationalism. We must not fall prey to this seductive specter: patriotism is not nationalism; nationalism is not patriotism.

So much has been written about World War I and so rather than add to that corpus I will recommend some of my favorite books on the subject, should you choose to explore further:

The Guns of August by Barbara Tuchman (1962)

This book hopefully is still required reading somewhere; President Kennedy was so entranced by it that he insisted that his Cabinet and aides read it and absorb its lessons on the threat of war.

The Proud Tower by Barbara Tuchman (1966)

I think it’s helpful to read this before The Guns of August since it really delves into the mindset of the fin de siécle world and how that formed the spark of war. Within this volume, you will find many unfortunate parallels with our own time.

The Origins of American Intervention in the First World War by Ross Gregory (1972)

I first read this in college, it’s really an excellent, concise examination of the factors that contributed to President Wilson’s decision.

The First World War by John Keegan (1999)

A solid volume on the course of the war and the major figures and their strategy.

Paris 1919: Six Months That Changed the World by Margaret MacMillan (2001)

The award-winning treatment of the Versailles peace conference and its consequences.

Some Thoughts on Prejudice

Today is Election Day, but what I want to address is not the election but the direction we will take afterward. Reflecting upon the recent calamity in Pittsburgh, it is difficult not to feel skeptical about the future of our country. What force in our nature allows for the persistence of prejudice? Our history has portrayed all the varieties of prejudice which you will recognize: xenophobia, racism, and modern antisemitism, as well as discrimination based on sex or gender or physical condition. It is an awful heritage that underlies our collective past.

Look plainly at these: all are thoroughly irrational; they are remnants of the previous era and should have no purchase on our 21st-century minds, yet we let them abide in our time and befoul the future. Prejudice is the irrational fear of the “Other” that is here, living amongst us, threatening our traditions and our society. It is contiguous with our historic fear of loss of what is familiar to us, the loss of our community to the strange barbarians. Hannibal ad portas!.¹

There should be no doubt that this fear is an illusion, our own mental construct. Fearing others for their appearance or something inherent to their identity is only fearing ourselves. This fear and hatred is a choice that we make, an irrational choice that damages our ability to co-exist with our fellow citizens next door, down the street, everywhere. It has been said many times that as Americans we are all from somewhere else. The deeper point is that yes, we all look different, but under our skins rest the same beating hearts. That person next door who seems so “alien” to you, really has the same hopes and dreams for a better life that brought so many of us here.

Racism, antisemitism, bigotry, all the forms of prejudice: they exist because we allow them to exist. Our irrational fear will continue to plague us unless we take action to reduce its corrupting influence. How can we do this?

For adult Americans, we must recognize that prejudice is not genetic but starts with us, we learned it from our families or absorbed it from our friends or our culture. To attack it, pay attention! Notice when people around you express casual racism, antisemitism or other prejudice, and try to create a new more positive response than just outrage or silence. I say this because in my experience many of these casual remarks come from ignorance rather than fear or hate. Many people just don’t know anyone in the group they are slandering, so you are giving them a chance to learn. Yes, your friends or family members may be embarrassed but don’t believe that they are incapable of changing their beliefs; it happens every day.

For young Americans, know that it is very easy to uncritically absorb casual prejudice through peers, family members, and social media. Avoid this path. Go meet those who are different in your school, in your neighborhood. Resist the fear of the Other. Learn about American history and the difficulties that every group has faced. Finally, you may find that you have among your friends or family a student of history. Seek them out! We will be happy to talk about some of the ways Americans have worked through the years to overcome differences. You have more power than any adult to stop prejudice because you are the future of America, and its new form will emerge from your design.

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¹This expression means “Hannibal is at the gates!” and was used by Romans in the same way we might frighten someone today by invoking the “bogeyman”: an imaginary character used to generate fear. Hannibal, of course, was real enough, but his appropriation as a fear-inducing stereotype long outlived the threat he posed to the Roman Republic.

Remembering John Glenn

We remember John Glenn as the first American to orbit the Earth, a feat he accomplished in the tiny Mercury capsule Friendship 7 on February 20, 1962. You are probably familiar with this achievement, but but there is much more to Glenn’s story.

Lt. Glenn next to his F4U Corsair, Marshall Islands, 1944

John Glenn enlisted in the Army Air Corps after Pearl Harbor. He later transferred to the Marine Corps and was deployed to the Marshall Islands, where beginning in mid-1944 he flew 59 combat missions in an F4U Corsair against targets in the Pacific. During the Korean War, Glenn flew another 90 combat missions in 1953, for a time flying with Ted Williams of the Boston Red Sox as his wingman.

Maj. Glenn in the cockpit of his F8U Crusader, 1957

Through the rest of the 1950s, Glenn tested various experimental aircraft as a test pilot with the Navy. In July 1957, he set a new transcontinental speed record when he flew from Los Angeles to New York in 3 hours and 23 minutes.

John Glenn with Gus Grissom and Alan Shepard at Launch Complex 5, Cape Canaveral, 1961

After his historic Mercury flight, Glenn’s prospects for another space mission were uncertain; It was rumored that President Kennedy and NASA had decided it was too risky for someone who had become a national hero to fly again. At the recommendation of Robert Kennedy, Glenn was inspired to enter politics, running for senator from Ohio in 1964. Unfortunately he suffered a concussion after an accident, and was forced to withdraw from the race; however in 1974 he ran again and won, eventually serving four terms in the Senate before retiring in 1999.

John Glenn as a crew member on the Space Shuttle Discovery, Mission STS-95, 1998

In 1998 he became at age 77 the oldest human to travel into space. He had to pass all the standard physical exams to qualify for flight status before becoming part of the crew of the Space Shuttle Discovery.

When I worked for the Smithsonian I would pass by Friendship 7 on the way to work every morning. It’s easy to look at the little capsule today and reflect on how modest and tentative our first steps into space were. Yet thanks to John Glenn and his fellow pioneers, we are exploring the planets and perhaps, some day, the stars.

Here is an excellent one-hour documentary about the journey of Friendship 7 produced for NASA and shown in theaters across the country in 1962. Although many Americans (including this humble writer) are too young to recall the Mercury Seven and their historic flights, this film captures a little of the excitement that must have marked the early years of the Space Age.

First American in Orbit, 1962

If you are interested in Project Mercury, here are several other NASA films from the period. Thanks go to Jeff Quitney for restoring and posting these and many other films to YouTube.

Overview of Project Mercury, 1960

Status of Project Mercury, 1962

Summary of Project Mercury, 1963

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Photo credits: (1,4) Ohio State University; (2) Flying Leatherneck Historical Foundation; (3) NASA.

Looking Forward from Pearl Harbor

USS Arizona as she appeared in 1939

On this day 75 years ago the United States was attacked by Japan at Pearl Harbor, the headquarters of the Pacific Fleet. There was no warning for the sailors, soldiers, and civilians that Sunday morning, and the result was over 2,400 dead, and hundreds more wounded, 18 ships sunk or heavily damaged, and a sleeping giant dragged into the reality of total war.

How should we look back on this from 2016? The catalyst of Pearl Harbor led the US to mobilize rapidly and respond overwhelmingly to the existential threat of Imperial Japan and Nazi Germany. There was no question that the fate of the world was at stake; sacrifice was expected and offered by the American people. The German surrender in April, 1945 and the atomic bombs dropped on Japan a few months later brought an end to the war and the prospect that the Allies would lead an exhausted world into a postwar era of peace.

In the succeeding 75 years, we have somehow managed to avoid destroying ourselves in another world war; nevertheless the specter of war has been ever present. There has not been a year since 1945 without a conflict somewhere on the planet. The US, alone or in concert with allies, has been involved in five major wars and numerous smaller conflicts. Nuclear weapons have never been used again; however they have proliferated over time so that some states improvidently brandish these terrifying weapons as bargaining chips.

Likewise the concept of total war has now given way to managed warfare as an instrument of state power. This accommodation leads to simmering, seemingly endless conflicts, with technology providing newer, more effective weapons. Even as we remain the unchallenged military power in the world, rogue states and non-state actors continue to test our resolve and our devotion to the principles of the Founders and the Constitution.

The lesson of Pearl Harbor is that we must follow the dictation of eternal vigilance, while at the same time recognize that we are fallible, even to the most careful practitioners of prediction and foresight. We can never be prepared for every circumstance of a future still unwritten. Technology, and the unknown uses to which it will bend, will inevitably surprise us. But we must try.

Later this month, Prime Minister Shinzo Abe will become the first sitting Japanese head of state to visit Pearl Harbor when he joins President Obama to commemorate the anniversary. It will be a remarkable event, two formerly implacable enemies now standing together as allies. Time has slowly healed the wounds of total war, and this may, perhaps, give us hope as we continue to carry the legacy of the republic through the turbulence of human affairs.

What we now need to discover in the social realm is the moral equivalent of war; something heroic that will speak to man as universally as war does, and yet will be as compatible with their spiritual selves as war has proved to be incompatible.

—William James, The Will to Believe, 1897

On Voting and the Republic

“The fabric of American empire ought to rest on the solid basis of THE CONSENT OF THE PEOPLE. The streams of national power ought to flow immediately from that pure, original fountain of all legitimate authority.”

— Alexander Hamilton, The Federalist No. 22

Once or twice a year I pay a visit to the National Cemetery in Alexandria, Virginia. This is not the larger and more famous Arlington National Cemetery, but rather one of the original national cemeteries opened in 1862 for the interment of soldiers during the Civil War. In 1864 my relative (one of many family members who fought and died in that war) was buried there. It is a serene, contemplative place, and I use my occasional visits partly to serve as a reminder of the high price my family and many others have paid to preserve our republic through history.

There have been several articles recently (in the non-sensational press, an ever smaller tribe) that lament the apathy of younger generations and their frustration with the upcoming election and the political system. It is often reported that young Americans feel there is no point in voting or participating in a “broken” system. However, what may be unclear to them is that a “broken” system is what we have had since the beginning of the the republic. I’ll herein disclose two little secrets of history: 1) there is no perfect political system; and 2) for all its flaws, our democratic republic may be the best that human society can create. As a nation we have acknowledged these two realities by spending most of the past 229 years repeatedly trying to fix our “broken” system.

At the time of the Revolution those who had fled the endless wars and upheavals of Europe had committed themselves to a path that would, over the course of two centuries, evolve into the most exciting, audacious political experiment in history, the American republic. I wish to emphasize the word “experiment” here because there was no instruction manual or canon of political principles to refer to; the Founders had at their disposal only the remains of earlier attempts at polity. The Greek city-states, the Roman republic, the laws of England; all were available for Franklin, Jefferson, Hamilton, and Madison to see. But how did these pieces fit together, and could any rational, modern society be formed from them?

Of course the result was hardly an overnight success, and yet the experiment had begun and today in the 21st century we still travel down the path the Founders first laid out. We are as uncertain as they were what the future holds, but through both victory and defeat we have remained strong and pressed forward on our journey.

The Founders entrusted the republic to succeeding generations with the hope that we would both understand the fragile nature of its creation and also recognize that a society ruled by its citizens rather than a king or tyrant was the greatest social achievement of civilization, an achievement that must be nurtured and preserved. As we have walked the narrow, dangerous trail between tyranny and anarchy down to the present day, we have so far found the wisdom that as the world changed through each era, our experiment also needed to change; so we have evolved, slowly and sometimes painfully, yet always proclaiming defeat as momentary.

An essential strength of the American character is the resoluteness to solve problems and to never give up. So it is dismaying to hear young people sound apathetic about their choices and their future. Fatalism and resignation seem to have infected all corners of the country. It is easy to sympathize with such thoughts. There are never easy answers to the problems of the present, and there will never be a perfect leader who can solve them all. Yet a glance at history shows that we have come through difficult times before.

Every American can have a role in shaping a better future, and we have the power inherent in democracy at our call. The Founders repeatedly and specifically appealed to the “consent of the people.” By “consent” they meant that our collective power, the power of the demos, is the source of all political authority. When we exercise the voting franchise, we apply that consent in practice as citizens. Failure to do so is an abdication of this supreme power that we have inherited.

A frequently heard comment these days goes thus: “Well I’m not planning on voting this time.” Another is: “I don’t like the candidates.” These are frankly childish excuses to avoid exercising a franchise that was purchased at a high cost and embodies who we are as Americans.  I was once asked: is voting a right, or a responsibility, or a duty? I responded then and I maintain today that it is all three. It is a natural right of each of us as participants in a rational, human community; it is a responsibility that each of us bears on behalf of those who died to safeguard it; finally it is a duty that more than any other condition defines us as citizens. This fall, we must consider carefully our collective role and our power as citizens before we give up on the republic.

“I have lived for some time among the people of the United States and I cannot express how much I admire their experience and common sense.”

— Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America, Volume 1, Part 2, Chapter 9

 

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Image: The Republic, created by Daniel Chester French for the Columbian Exposition of 1893. The original statue stood 65 ft. tall and was destroyed by a fire in 1896. A 24 ft. high replica stands today in Chicago’s Jackson Park. French is known for many other works of art, including the monumental statue of Abraham Lincoln in the Lincoln Memorial.