Reflections on 1968

June 2008

Ever since the first of this year, each time I’ve written “2008,” I have remembered that 40 years ago was 1968—a tumultuous, incendiary year across the globe.

Images of that year—the Tet Offensive and My Lai massacre, battles, burning villages and body bags from Vietnam; Soviet tanks rolling through Prague; student and worker revolts in France; student protests in Italy, Poland, Spain and Mexico; demonstrations at Columbia University and Berkeley; the violent and senseless assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy; police clashing with student protestors at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago; two black athletes raising their arms in a Black Power salute as they were awarded the gold and bronze medals at the Summer Olympics in Mexico City; the beginning of the military dictatorship in Brazil; the Beatles with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi encouraging transcendental meditation; the musical Hair making its debut on Broadway—are seared into the memories of all of us old enough to remember.

I was only 11 in 1968, but I remember those events as if they had occurred just last month. It was a much different time from the multichannel, multi-device world we live in today. Back then television was the main source of news for most people, and in most countries there were only a handful of channels available, if that many. There were just three networks in the U.S. and a dominant public or commercial broadcaster in most other countries.

Most homes had only one TV set and it was in the living room and that’s where we gathered to watch the evening newscast together. But even if there had been a way to watch separately, we wouldn’t have, we couldn’t have.

We were bombarded each evening by developments and events of such overwhelming and incomprehensible magnitude that we couldn’t watch alone. We needed people with whom to share and discuss the absurdity of what we were seeing—protestors taunting police, police beating up people, governments oppressing citizens, and people fighting amongst themselves. Far too often, nothing seemed to make sense.

We turned to each other and we turned on our TV sets, trying to understand, wanting to be comforted. In many countries current-affairs programming found its way into prime time, not the least of which was 60 Minutes. It premiered in September of 1968.

So if all of 1968 was so combustible, so violent, so painful, why do I choose to write about it only today? Because today marks the 40th anniversary of the death of Robert F. Kennedy, who had been shot the day before by an assassin, Sirhan Sirhan, as he was leaving the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles where he had just won the California primary. For many, June 6, 1968, was the day America lost hope in the future. RFK was either adored or reviled, but he was a powerful force in American politics that year and the one public person who could reach out to both whites and blacks. He had run his brother John’s winning campaign for the presidency in 1960 and had served as his Attorney General. Robert, or Bobby as he was referred to by many supporters, was hated by union leaders because he had exposed corruption within the Teamsters Union and sent their leader, Jimmy Hoffa, to prison. He had sent FBI agents into corporate offices looking for price fixing during the “Steel Crisis.” His Justice Department had enforced school desegregation in the South, and white Southerners hated him for that. White liberals despised the fact that he had worked for Joe McCarthy and wiretapped Martin Luther King, Jr.

But during his 82-day campaign for president, a different. more compassionate RFK emerged. One who was passionate about immediately ending the “immoral” war in Vietnam, about putting a stop to segregation and advancing civil rights, but mostly, about obliterating poverty in America. He called for greater understanding and compassion, more sacrifice for the greater good, all in an effort to bring together a fiercely divided nation. On the night Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, Kennedy had to give a speech in Indianapolis. Blacks were poised and ready to riot, but after an extemporaneous speech by Kennedy, one of the best speeches in American politics, tempers were cooled and Indianapolis was the only major city in the U.S. that night where riots didn’t occur.

The issues that were central to RFK’s campaign were not dissimilar to the issues in this year’s campaign. Wouldn’t you agree that his words from back then apply to today?

“I am concerned—as I believe most Americans are concerned—that the course we are following at the present time is deeply wrong. I am concerned—as I believe most Americans are concerned, that we are acting as if no other nations existed, against the judgment and desires of neutrals and our historic allies alike.

“Our country is in danger: not just from foreign enemies; but above all, from our own misguided policies—and what they can do to the nation that Thomas Jefferson once told us was the last, best, hope of man. There is a contest on, not for the rule of America but for the heart of America. In these next months we are going to decide what this country will stand for—and what kind of men we are.”

Today is a tremendously emotionally charged day for all of us who vividly remember 1968 and admired RFK, and hoped he could change the course of our country. There is no doubt events would have been different if he had lived, we just don’t know how. But we can let ourselves imagine if we recall his famous words, “There are those who look at things the way they are and ask, why? I dream of things that never were and ask, why not?”