4.75 stars
On January 30th, 1961, Arthur M. Schlesinger, a Harvard historian, accepted a new position as Special Assistant in President John F. Kennedy's administration. For Schlesinger – who had previously worked on presidential campaigns but had never before served a President-elect – it was a transition from the writing of history to the making of such. It would also be the birth of a most fascinating and informative presidential study, for A THOUSAND DAYS is special – it is a brilliant mix of a personal memoir, a presidential biography, an academic history, and a rather romantic, idealistic depiction of JFK.
Schlesinger begins with a vivid description of Kennedy's cold, snowy inauguration day that seemed to portend the somber times ahead. Then, he immediately plunges into an account of Kennedy’s early years, focusing on his intellectual development.
Although Kennedy is not considered one of the great "intellectual presidents," such with Wilson or Jefferson, Kennedy’s knowledge of history and political science was impressive. Moreover, the President possessed a peculiar intellectual curiosity, which had turned his mind into a wonderful treasury of random, but useful, knowledge. For instance, he remembered that there is about the same amount of salt in the human blood as there is in sea water and that this might be a proof of men's origin in the sea, and once used this fact in a speech designed to advocate for sea conservation. Diverse in his interests, Kennedy also filled his White House with an array of young intellectuals – Schlesinger among them. Their presence in his administration showed the world that the US President valued people like them, who were often unappreciated, or even dissidents, in their own countries.
Schlesinger briefly covers the domestic affairs of the Kennedy era and the way the President handled them. He writes about the civil rights struggle, JFK's strained relations with Congress, and the fight with Big Steel.
JFK found crowds to be irrational. Unlike Franklin Delano Roosevelt, the master demagogue, he disliked to play on the emotions of mobs. He did want to help the blacks in America, but he wanted to do it slowly and prudently. By the 1960s, though, the Civil Rights movement was already in a state of almost-revolution, and Martin Luther King, Jr. complained that "[a] sweeping revolutionary force is pressed in a narrow tunnel" because of the President's cautious use of executive powers. Some blacks accused Kennedy of not really caring about their plight. Schlesinger, though, defends JFK by pointing out that the President did begin to act after the violence in Southern cities and towns escalated, that he had been right to wait for the moment when the attention of the American public was actually focused on civil rights. The historian saw that behind Kennedy's coolness, restraint, and dislike for displaying emotions was a committed, involved, deeply caring man.
The main focus of A THOUSAND DAYS is, undoubtedly, Kennedy's foreign policy. First, Schlesinger dives into JFK's complex policy in Latin America and details the administration's efforts to build The Alliance for Progress – a massive foreign aid program – with the frequently mistrustful Latin regimes. Kennedy believed that in the end American influence in the world depended less on American arms than on American ideals. Undertakings like the Peace Corps and the Alliance for Progress were closest to his heart. Especially notable part of the Alliance was his agreement on world coffee production, which gave a crucial boost to the economies of the coffee-producing nations of Latin America.
Then, Schlesinger turns to the Bay of Pigs fiasco for whose initiation he blames the Eisenhower administration. He praises Kennedy's cautiousness, "his capacity to refuse escalation." When the Bay of Pigs invasion appeared to be failing, though under pressure from the military and the CIA to send in American forces, Kennedy refused to do so. Later, he also declined escalation in the Berlin crisis of 1961 and the missile crisis of 1962. The missile crisis was not only the most dangerous moment in the Cold War, but the most dangerous moment in all human history. The Soviet forces in Cuba had tactical missiles equipped with nuclear warheads and the permission to use them in case of an American attack. Had Kennedy yielded to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who urged for an invasion, the result would probably have been nuclear war. Fortunately, after the Bay of Pigs embarrassment, Kennedy had little regard for the JCS and their recommendations. Instead, he persistently sought – and successfully achieved – a diplomatic solution. “It quickly became clear,” Schlesinger quotes Khrushchev's memoirs, “he understood better than Eisenhower that an improvement in relations was the only rational course.”
And then came the great quagmire – Vietnam. Although JFK increased the number of American military advisers attached to the South Vietnamese army, he rejected every proposal to send in American combat units. “The last thing he wanted,” said General Maxwell Taylor, chairman of the Joint Chiefs, “was to put in ground forces.” On October 11, 1963, Kennedy approved the little-known NSAM-263 directive with recommendations by Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara to 1) make the government of South Vietnam improve its military performance; 2) train Vietnamese soldiers "so that essential functions can be carried out by Vietnamese by the end of 1965 [because it] should be possible to withdraw the bulk of U.S personnel by that time"; 3) withdraw, as planned by JFK, 1,000 U.S military personnel by the end of 1963. Both McNamara and McGeorge Bundy, JFK's national security adviser, insisted that – unlike what would come to be widely believed later – Kennedy would have never Americanised the war. Unfortunately, they made the mistake to advise President Lyndon B. Johnson to do exactly that, and he sent troops to Vietnam, erroneously concluding that that was what Kennedy would have wanted.
Most importantly, Schlesinger does a great job portraying Kennedy's mature, pragmatic side, thus dispelling the false image of the President as a young, naive, idealistic dreamer. According to him, Kennedy rarely lost sight of other people’s motives and problems. His mind was always critical; his thinking always retained "the cutting edge of decision." When he was told something, he wanted to know what he could do about it. He did not like abstractions, testing the meaning of every idea by the results it would produce. "Kennedy simply could not be reduced to the usual complex of sociological generalizations," writes Schlesinger. He was Irish, Catholic, New England, Harvard, Navy, Palm Beach, Democrat etc., and at the same time he was so much more than that. He carried an appealing individuality, which kept him self-determined, affected in his actions by no outside forces.
Of course, it cannot be denied that Schlesinger for whom President John F. Kennedy had been a lifelong hero and who was deeply shaken by the young leader's assassination, is biased in his judgements. His work reads more like an ode to the Kennedy era than as an objective historical study. The author often interrupts his narrative with passages dedicated to extolling JFK, and he seems to have omitted or glossed over all the President's mistakes and negative qualities. For instance, he vigorously denies Kennedy's womanizing, although it was true. Such drawbacks deprive A Thousand Days of the neutrality the reader might expect from such an account. Nevertheless, Schlesinger's compelling, elegant style and his perspective of an insider make this work a must-read for all Kennedy buffs.