Lend Me Your Ears: Great Speeches in History

by Unknown

  I am closing my fifty-two years of military service. When I joined the army, even before the turn of the century, it was the fulfillment of all of my boyish hopes and dreams. The world has turned over many times since I took the oath on the plain at West Point, and the hopes and dreams have long since vanished, but I still remember the refrain of one of the most popular barrack ballads of that day which proclaimed most proudly that old soldiers never die; they just fade away. And, like the old soldier of that ballad, I now close my military career and just fade away, an old soldier who tried to do his duty as God gave him the light to see that duty. Good-bye.

  President Dwight D. Eisenhower Takes His Leave with a Surprising Theme

  “We must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex.”

  At the end of his second presidential term, Dwight David Eisenhower surprised the nation with his farewell address on January 17, 1961. A man who rose to the top of the vast U. S. military establishment, and a political leader with most of his personal friends in industry, Eisenhower chose in his last speech to warn about the dangers of military-industrial power.

  Eisenhower’s biographers note that a month before the address, Saturday Review editor Norman Cousins called the president with the suggestion of this farewell address, “a great, sweeping document” to review his administration and discuss the country’s future, The primary focus of his address, however, was on the Cold War and the “permanent armaments industry” needed for the national defense. Credit for the catchphrase “military-industrial complex” goes to his speechwriters Malcolm Moos and Ralph Williams. When reporters asked about it a few days later, the departing president said he was thinking not of a willful abuse of power but of “an almost insidious penetration of our own minds that the only thing this country is engaged in is weaponry and missiles.” He added, “And I tell you we can’t afford that.”

  With biblical allusion to swords and plowshares, Eisenhower introduces the theme of a military-industrial threat, necessitating careful regulation by “an alert and knowledgeable citizenry.” The long series of parallel clauses in the closing prayer includes a return to this idea: “that those who have freedom will understand, also, its heavy responsibilities.”

  Pundit Walter Lippmann, who had become critical of Eisenhower in the president’s second term, called this farewell “in the great tradition. Washington made the theme of his Farewell Address a warning against allowing the influence of foreign governments to invade our political life. That was then the menace to the civilian power. Now Eisenhower, speaking from his experience and looking ahead, is concerned with a contemporary threat to the supremacy of the civilian power.”

  ***

  THIS EVENING I come to you with a message of leave-taking and farewell, and to share a few final thoughts with you, my countrymen…

  We now stand ten years past the midpoint of a century that has witnessed four major wars among great nations—three of these involved our own country.

  Despite these holocausts America is today the strongest, the most influential, and most productive nation in the world. Understandably proud of this preeminence, we yet realize that America’s leadership and prestige depend, not merely upon our unmatched material progress, riches, and military strength, but on how we use our power in the interests of world peace and human betterment.

  A vital element in keeping the peace is our military establishment. Our arms must be mighty, ready for instant action, so that no potential aggressor may be tempted to risk his own destruction.

  Our military organization today bears little relation to that known by any of my predecessors in peacetime—or, indeed, by the fighting men of World War II or Korea.

  Until the latest of our world conflicts, the United States had no armaments industry. American makers of plowshares could, with time and as required, make swords as well.

  But we can no longer risk emergency improvisation of national defense. We have been compelled to create a permanent armaments industry of vast proportions. Added to this, three and a half million men and women are directly engaged in the defense establishment. We annually spend on military security alone more than the net income of all United States corporations.

  Now, this conjunction of an immense military establishment and a large arms industry is new in the American experience. The total influence—economic, political, even spiritual—is felt in every city, every state house, every office of the federal government. We recognize the imperative need for this development. Yet we must not fail to comprehend its grave implications. Our toil, resources, and livelihood are all involved; so is the very structure of our society.

  In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist.

  We must never let the weight of this combination endanger our liberties or democratic processes. We should take nothing for granted. Only an alert and knowledgeable citizenry can compel the proper meshing of the huge industrial and military machinery of defense with our peaceful methods and goals, so that security and liberty may prosper together.

  Akin to and largely responsible for the sweeping changes in our industrial-military posture has been the technological revolution during recent decades.

  In this revolution research has become central. It also becomes more formalized, complex, and costly. A steadily increasing share is conducted for, by, or at the direction of the federal government.

  Today the solitary inventor, tinkering in his shop, has been overshadowed by task forces of scientists, in laboratories and testing fields. In the same fashion, the free university, historically the fountainhead of free ideas and scientific discovery, has experienced a revolution in the conduct of research. Partly because of the huge costs involved, a government contract becomes virtually a substitute for intellectual curiosity.

  For every old blackboard there are now hundreds of new electronic computers.

  Another factor in maintaining balance involves the element of time. As we peer into society’s future, we—you and I, and our government—must avoid the impulse to live only for today, plundering, for our own ease and convenience, the precious resources of tomorrow.

  We cannot mortgage the material assets of our grandchildren without risking the loss also of their political and spiritual heritage. We want democracy to survive for all generations to come, not to become the insolvent phantom of tomorrow.

  Such a confederation must be one of equals. The weakest must come to the conference table with the same confidence as do we, protected as we are by our moral economic, and military strength. That table, though scarred by many past frustrations, cannot be abandoned for the certain agony of the battlefield.

  Disarmament, with mutual honor and confidence, is a continuing imperative. Together we must learn how to compose differences—not with arms but with intellect and decent purpose. Because this need is so sharp and apparent, I confess that I lay down my official responsibilities in this field with a definite sense of disappointment. As one who has witnessed the horror and the lingering sadness of war, as one who knows that another war could utterly destroy this civilization which has been so slowly and painfully built over thousands of years, I wish I could say tonight that a lasting peace is in sight.

  Happily, I can say that war has been avoided. Steady progress toward our ultimate goal has been made. But so much remains to be done. As a private citizen, I shall never cease to do what little I can to help the world advance along that road.

  So, in this, my last “good night” to you as your president, I thank you for the many opportunities you have given me for public service in war and in peace. I trust that, in that service, you find some things worthy. As for the rest of it, I know you will find ways to improve performance in the future.

  To all the peoples of the world, I once
more give expression to America’s prayerful and continuing aspiration:

  We pray that peoples of all faiths, all races, all nations, may have their great human needs satisfied; that those now denied opportunity shall come to enjoy it to the full; that all who yearn for freedom may experience its spiritual blessings; that those who have freedom will understand, also, its heavy responsibilities; that all who are insensitive to the needs of others will learn charity; that the scourges of poverty, disease, and ignorance will be made to disappear from the earth; and that in the goodness of time, all peoples will come to live together in a peace guaranteed by the binding force of mutual respect and love.

  Now, on Friday noon, I am to become a private citizen. I am proud to do so. I look forward to it.

  Thank you, and good night.

  President Lyndon B. Johnson Halts the Bombing in Vietnam and Drops His Own Political Bomb

  “I shall not seek, and I will not accept, the nomination of my party for another term as your president.”

  Depressed by depressing polls, dismayed by the hatred of protesters shouting, “Hey, Hey, LBJ, how many kids did you kill today?,” and facing divisive primary challenges from Senators Eugene McCarthy and Robert Kennedy, President Johnson chose to step down in the most dramatic way possible: with a surprise announcement at the end of a prime-time speech about the Vietnam War on March 31, 1968.

  Sixteen years before, Harry Truman—another accidental Democratic president nearing the end of his first elected term, also buffeted by a stalemated Asian war, compounded by the “mess in Washington”—announced he would “not accept a renomination.” Johnson’s farewell was more stunning, primarily because it was a major television event in which each viewer felt he took part. The surprise came at the end of a well-crafted but unrelenting recitation of the history of the nation’s involvement in an unpopular war, including a plaintive repetition of John F. Kennedy’s inaugural promise “to pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and the success of liberty.”

  The immediate reaction in millions of living rooms was “Did he say what I think he said?” When the news had sunk in, the viewer was left with a taste of history in his mouth.

  ***

  GOOD EVENING, MY fellow Americans.

  Tonight I want to speak to you of peace in Vietnam and Southeast Asia.

  No other question so preoccupies our people. No other dream so absorbs the 250 million human beings who live in that part of the world. No other goal motivates American policy in Southeast Asia.

  For years, representatives of our government and others have traveled the world—seeking to find a basis for peace talks.

  Since last September, they have carried the offer that I made public at San Antonio.

  That offer was this: that the United States would stop its bombardment of North Vietnam when that would lead promptly to productive discussions—and that we would assume that North Vietnam would not take military advantage of our restraint.

  Hanoi denounced this offer, both privately and publicly. Even while the search for peace was going on, North Vietnam rushed their preparations for a savage assault on the people, the government, and the allies of South Vietnam.

  Their attack—during the Tet holidays—failed to achieve its principal objectives.

  It did not collapse the elected government of South Vietnam or shatter its army—as the Communists had hoped.

  It did not produce a “general uprising” among the people of the cities as they had predicted.

  The Communists were unable to maintain control of any of the more than thirty cities that they attacked. And they took very heavy casualties.

  But they did compel the South Vietnamese and their allies to move certain forces from the countryside, into the cities.

  They caused widespread disruption and suffering. Their attacks, and the battles that followed, made refugees of half a million human beings. The Communists may renew their attack any day.

  They are, it appears, trying to make 1968 the year of decision in South Vietnam—the year that brings, if not final victory or defeat, at least a turning point in the struggle.

  This much is clear: if they do mount another round of heavy attacks, they will not succeed in destroying the fighting power of South Vietnam and its allies.

  But tragically, this is also clear: many men—on both sides of the struggle—will be lost. A nation that has already suffered twenty years of warfare will suffer once again. Armies on both sides will take new casualties. And the war will go on.

  There is no need for this to be so.

  There is no need to delay the talks that could bring an end to this long and this bloody war.

  Tonight, I renew the offer I made last August—to stop the bombardment of North Vietnam. We ask that talks begin promptly, that they be serious talks on the substance of peace. We assume that during those talks Hanoi will not take advantage of our restraint.

  We are prepared to move immediately toward peace through negotiations.

  So, tonight, in the hope that this action will lead to early talks, I am taking the first step to deescalate the conflict. We are reducing—substantially reducing—the present level of hostilities.

  And we are doing so unilaterally, and at once. Tonight, I have ordered our aircraft and our naval vessels to make no attacks on North Vietnam, except in the area north of the Demilitarized Zone where the continuing enemy buildup directly threatens allied forward positions and where the movements of their troops and supplies are clearly related to that threat.

  The area in which we are stopping our attacks includes almost 90 percent of North Vietnam’s population, and most of its territory. Thus there will be no attacks around the principal populated areas, or in the food-producing areas of North Vietnam.

  Even this very limited bombing of the North could come to an early end—if our restraint is matched by restraint in Hanoi. But I cannot in good conscience stop all bombing so long as to do so would immediately and directly endanger the lives of our men and our allies. Whether a complete bombing halt becomes possible in the future will be determined by events.

  Our purpose in this action is to bring about a reduction in the level of violence that now exists.

  It is to save the lives of brave men—and to save the lives of innocent women and children. It is to permit the contending forces to move closer to a political settlement….

  I call upon President Ho Chi Minh to respond positively, and favorably, to this new step toward peace.

  But if peace does not come now through negotiations, it will come when Hanoi understands that our common resolve is unshakable, and our common strength is invincible.

  Tonight, we and the other allied nations are contributing 600,000 fighting men to assist 700,000 South Vietnamese troops in defending their little country.

  Our presence there has always rested on this basic belief: the main burden of preserving their freedom must be carried out by them—by the South Vietnamese themselves.

  We and our allies can only help to provide a shield—behind which the people of South Vietnam can survive and can grow and develop. On their efforts—on their determination and resourcefulness—the outcome will ultimately depend.

  That small, beleaguered nation has suffered terrible punishment for more than twenty years.

  I pay tribute once again tonight to the great courage and endurance of its people. South Vietnam supports armed forces tonight of almost 700,000 men—and I call your attention to the fact that that is the equivalent of more than 10 million in our own population. Its people maintain their firm determination to be free of domination by the North.

  There has been substantial progress, I think, in building a durable government during these last three years. The South Vietnam of 1965 could not have survived the enemy’s Tet offensive of 1968. The elected government of South Vietnam survived that attack—and is rapidly repairing the devastation that it wrought.

&nbs
p; The South Vietnamese know that further efforts are going to be required: to expand their own armed forces; to move back into the countryside as quickly as possible to increase their taxes; to select the very best men that they have for civilian and military responsibility; to achieve a new unity within their constitutional government; and to include in the national effort all of those groups who wish to preserve South Vietnam’s control over its own destiny.

  Last week President Thieu ordered the mobilization of 135,000 additional South Vietnamese. He plans to reach—as soon as possible—a total military strength of more than 800,000 men….

  We applaud this evidence of determination on the part of South Vietnam. Our first priority will be to support their effort.

  We shall accelerate the reequipment of South Vietnam’s armed forces—in order to meet the enemy’s increased firepower. This will enable them progressively to undertake a larger share of combat operations against the Communist invaders….

  Now let me give you my estimate of the chances for peace: the peace that will one day stop the bloodshed in South Vietnam; that all the Vietnamese people will be permitted to rebuild and develop their land; that will permit us to turn more fully to our own tasks here at home.

  I cannot promise that the initiative that I have announced tonight will be completely successful in achieving peace any more than the thirty others that we have undertaken and agreed to in recent years.

  But it is our fervent hope that North Vietnam, after years of fighting that has left the issue unresolved, will now cease its efforts to achieve a military victory and will join with us in moving toward the peace table.

  And there may come a time when South Vietnamese—on both sides—are able to work out a way to settle their own differences by free political choice rather than by war.

  As Hanoi considers its course, it should be in no doubt of our intentions. It must not miscalculate the pressures within our democracy in this election year.