Jack Kennedy - Chris Matthews [149]
Jack knew the order of battle for any conflict over Berlin. The United States had 6,500 troops in the city, for a combined American, British, and French force of 12,000. The Soviets had 350,000. Once the first shot was fired, the choice he’d be facing would be Armageddon or Munich. Long his greatest fear, it was now what he saw before him. Worse still, his adversary refused to acknowledge their mutual humanity.
He heard the voices—the chorus was always there—that exhorted him to “stand tough,” the voices that encouraged him to ignore the signals he was getting from Khrushchev in favor of a different party line. “Our position in Europe is worth a nuclear war, because if you are driven from Berlin, you are driven from Germany. And if you are driven from Europe, you are driven from Asia and Africa, and then our time will come next. You have to indicate your willingness to go to the ultimate weapon.” Hadn’t he said that, himself, to a Milwaukee radio interviewer during the campaign?
So, he knew how to talk like a war hawk. But what did it actually mean—words like that, all the threats and gun-cocking—if you’re the first American president to come into office aware of your enemy’s rival nuclear stockpile? It’s one thing to use words such as appeasement and surrender and vital principle with regard to Berlin when someone else is making the decisions.
It was the old “Munich” argument—the one that had so obsessed him that he’d written a book about it—adapted to the nuclear age. The Berlin conflict would endure through much of the summer. As the months went on, Kennedy seemed sapped of initiative. “He’s imprisoned by Berlin,” members of the cabinet told Sidey. “That’s all he thinks about.” On June 21, he would suffer another flare-up of his Addison’s disease, with his temperature spiking to 105 degrees. For several days he was sick in bed, ministered to by Jackie and Lem.
On July 25, Kennedy gave a pivotal speech on the conflict in Europe. “We cannot and will not permit the Communists to drive us out of Berlin, either gradually or by force. . . . We will at all times be ready to talk, if talk will help. But we must also be ready to resist with force, if force is used upon us.” He spoke of West Berlin as a “showcase of liberty, a symbol, an island of freedom in a Communist sea.” But he also made concessions. Suggesting that it might be possible to remove “irritants” from the conflict, he then made a conciliatory statement about Soviet security concerns regarding Germany, the country that cost it 20 million lives in World War II.
Throughout the speech, he made a point of referring to “West” Berlin. The message was that his country did not care what the Soviets and East Germans did in the rest of the city. They had a free hand in that regard. Five days later, Senator William Fulbright, chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, told a Sunday-morning TV audience that it was in the Russians’ power to shut down the West Berlin escape route if they wished. They could end their problem without war. It was an assessment of American policy, quickly cheered by the East German government, that Kennedy never denied.
On August 3, the Soviets made their long-threatened move on West Berlin. Fortunately for the world, the Soviets and East Germans had found a solution to stop the tide of refugees to the West—a wall. To the man in the White House, it came as a secret relief. “Why would Khrushchev put up a wall if he really intended to seize West Berlin? There wouldn’t be any need of a wall if he planned to occupy the whole city. This is his way out of his predicament. It’s not a very nice solution, but a wall is a hell of a lot better than a war.”
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President Kennedy with the Joint Chiefs (L to R): Gen. David M. Shoup, Marine
Corps; Gen. Thomas P. White, Air Force; Gen. Lyman Lemnitzer, chairman;
Kennedy; Adm. Arleigh Burke Navy; Gen. G. H. Decker, Army
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James Meredith with U.S. Marshals after
enrolling in