Jacqueline Kennedy: Historic Conversations on Life With John F. Kennedy

by Caroline Kennedy

  That was the very beginning.

  No, I don't think Macmillan did—

  Oh, David Ormsby-Gore came back and Randolph Churchill, but not Macmillan.

  Is this the Skybolt time?

  Yeah.

  That was at Nassau.1

  PRESIDENT KENNEDY AND PRIME MINISTER MACMILLAN IN NASSAU, DECEMBER 1962

  Cecil Stoughton, White House/John F. Kennedy Library and Museum, Boston

  The—the meeting was at Nassau.

  Yeah.

  After Nassau, I think David and Randolph came and spent a day, didn't they, at Palm Beach?

  That's right. And is that what you want me to tell about?

  Yeah.

  First, they met in Nassau because Jack told David to tell Macmillan he wouldn't meet in Bermuda again because there was no—in the governor general's house there was no hot water for the bath. [Both laugh] So they met at Nassau. Then I don't think Jack saw Randolph Churchill—not until later. But I remember the next day, sitting out, when Godfrey McHugh came running in with a dispatch that whatever company it is that shot Skybolt and saying, "Look what wonderful news, Mr. President!" And I said—I told you before about him saying, "Goddamn it, Godfrey!" It was just too awful to be true. And then he got on the phone and tracked everyone down and Gilpatric said he didn't know, and McNamara was away. I don't know if you've read Dick Neustadt's thing on Skybolt, have you?

  I haven't.

  Well, Jack gave me that about Novemb—on November 20 and said, this is the—usually he never brought anything home—and he said, "This is the most fascinating reading," and he said, "Read it." And so I took it to Texas with me. It's been in my briefcase ever since. I've never read it. But anyway, it explains all the little hitches back and forth.

  Well, you think the President was deeply concerned?

  Oh, he was just crushed because Nassau had gone so beautifully and Macmillan had—Macmillan was really in trouble at home, I guess, and whatever they'd worked out was Polaris—hadn't been quite what he wanted but together they'd both done the best they could to get something that would be all right for them. And I remember David's face. He just looked like he'd been kicked in the stomach, and Jack saying, "Ugh, you know, what are we going to do?" And he felt as if he betrayed the prime minister. So David went in another room, carrying his little red dispatch box, and talked on the phone to Macmillan and they made up what their announcement would be. But they were both just sick about it. I think Jack always felt that contributed so to Macmillan's troubles. And as he said, it's always some third person down the line somewhere whose fault it is. It turns out on that thing, which he just explained to me briefly, it's Thorneycroft, who Jack always did think was stupid, doing some little thing and someone not being there when someone called, I don't know.

  Do you remember anything about the President's mood, before he went to Nassau?

  Well, not exactly. What would it have been? Well, some anticipation.

  Yes, and concern, because it did weaken Macmillan's political position. And I think the actual solution was worked out by the President and Mac Bundy and David on the plane down to Nassau.

  And I remember Jack being really mad, either talking to me on the phone from Nassau or telling me before. He hated Diefenbaker, and Diefenbaker had made some snotty condition that he had to come down there and have lunch with him one day, or something. He was mad about that. But, you know, they had a good time, always, he and Macmillan—I mean, sort of it was rather wry laughter. You know, they always managed to have their jokes, even though they were tinged with despair a bit. But that was too bad, that whole thing.

  Actually, the problem of the testing of Skybolt, although it was a big thing then, didn't have the effect that everyone feared and—it did for about a week, but I think it was so well handled that it—

  Well, maybe here, but it really caused trouble for Macmillan at home, didn't it?

  Well, to some degree—for a time. But Labour didn't want Skybolt either, so they weren't in a position to exploit it for themselves.

  I see. And then I remember Randolph Churchill, when Jack went to Washington, came over. Well, he was so pro-Jack in all of—that was very nice. I don't think he saw Jack that time. Maybe he did.

  Yes, he came to Washington thereafter, and was very proud of the fact that he'd written the one pro-Nassau piece to appear in the British press.

  That's right.

  The next big thing was de Gaulle's veto of British entrance into the Common Market.2 The President was rather fascinated by de Gaulle, wasn't he? As a historical phenomenon?

  Well, of course, he was always interested in him, but really it was more Churchill. And I think probably because I read, or said I did, de Gaulle's memoirs and because he used a sentence from one of them when he announced for the presidency—"I've always had a certain image of America"—that's taken from the opening line of de Gaulle's—"I've always had a certain image of France." Just that. But he saw—he used to talk to me about de Gaulle so realistically. You know, that that man was just consumed really with grudges, and he'd explain of how he'd never forgotten the slights of the last world war, or practically, that we didn't come earlier into the first world war. When everybody that he was dealing with then is dead, and everything, and he just—he was nice about it. He never got mad the way he did about the Germans or anything. But he just seemed to have such distaste for someone who was so spiteful. I remember he asked him, in Paris and he was very interested, who he got along with best—Churchill or Roosevelt. And de Gaulle said, "With Churchill I was always in disagreement but we always reached an accord. With Roosevelt I was always in agreement but we never had an accord"—or some lovely little French wordplay—but, you know, so when de Gaulle did that, well, I wouldn't be surprised if Jack almost expected it. And I remember one time later—oh, I was having to answer a letter to Malraux or something—when Malraux came over for the Mona Lisa,3 which was way after that, I think. He came for dinner one night alone, afterwards, and Jack said he purposely wasn't going to talk to him about all this—you know, France and England and everything, the kind of thing that Hervé was always so frantic about. He talked to him only about Red China. Bundy could tell you that conversation. He said, "Why are all of you worrying about this and that and your force de frappe and all?4 You know, you should just think of Red China and what's going to happen when they get loose." And Malraux was rather impressed. But—and later on that spring I had to answer a letter—or else it was about coming back from Morocco, when I'd said I wouldn't land in Paris, or something.5 I just never wanted to go near the French again. But there was no way to get home without doing it. And Jack said, "No, no, you mustn't be like that. Don't you see you're the one avenue that's open, and they think I'm a so-and-so but they think you're nice because you like France. And you must always leave an avenue open and you mustn't—" Again that thing of conciliation always. You know, he said, "What's the point of you getting mad at them too and writing Malraux an insulting letter?" But he was just so—it was just so un-Christian of de Gaulle, and Jack gave so much and that spiteful man gave so little. And I think he sort of saw that in the long run, de Gaulle would do all of this work for "la Gloire" and everything, and he'd really be remembered as—well, the man who, with Castro and Red China, didn't sign the test ban treaty. Like he used to say about Nehru sometimes, "Isn't it sad? This man did so much for independence and everything, but he stayed around too long and now it's all going, bit by bit, and he's botching up things." And, you know, Nehru's image really did change a lot in his last years because Nehru got to be awfully sanctimonious—I mean, the difference between Hungary and Goa and all of that.6 What was the thing Jack had about that? A very good expression. Something about, "It's like the town preacher being caught in the whorehouse." You asked me about him and Nehru the other day—he had that sort of feeling about him. And also, what I forgot to tell you about Nehru—it was so funny, Nehru wanting to come on this very private visit but because there weren't any cro
wds purposely arranged, out of desperation, the man went to Disneyland, which seemed so unlike Nehru, but there'd be a lot of children who'd yell, "Cha-cha Nehru Zindabad!" I mean, this funny thing of ego. So he thought that that was de Gaulle's horrible failure, and I don't think he did think much of him.

  Were there any Frenchmen whom he liked and trusted, particularly?

  Only one I know is Segonzac.7

  Not Hervé.

  No, Hervé amu—I mean, Hervé's whole sort of way of life and his desperation about David Gore—I mean, he always tried to be so nice to Hervé and sometimes he'd say, "We should ask him to dinner because he's about to explode again." But no, you know, basically he didn't like the French, and I loathe the French. There's not one French person I can think of except—maybe two very simple people. Maybe Boudin,8 who's so un-French. You know, they're really not very nice. They're all for themselves.

  How did the President and Malraux—how did that work?

  Well, Malraux would talk brilliantly and so would Jack, and Bundy would always be there. So, you know, it was a wonderful exchange, but Malraux sort of off in a marvelous fog or— It was very interesting and they never, you know, really got into policy or all that. Well, he was interested in Malraux, but he saw that de Gaulle treated him like Muggsy O'Leary—not as well.9 So, you know, no one—that was the thing—no one spoke for de Gaulle. There was no point giving really Malraux any messages, but—

  But he wasn't astonished by de Gaulle then. He rather expected that de Gaulle would have a headstrong—

  Well, maybe he was a little astonished in the beginning because he really tried hard and went over backwards. But, well, maybe he was a little astonished, but then he got to see that it was this classic pattern and it just wasn't going to get any better. And he was really irritated, I told you before, at what de Gaulle said after Cuba.10 And that's another time that I think there was some sincere irritation that that proved we'd never defend Europe. I mean, just a damn troublemaker that man was!

  Yet he wanted de Gaulle to come to the United States, and I think de Gaulle had agreed to come in March of this year.11

  Yes, or it was going to be January, even, and it was going to be at Hyannis. And Hervé always said, if only they could talk and meet the way Macmillan and Jack met—anywhere, you know, halfway, this and that, but do it a lot. And then this time I think Hervé was right. He said, even if nothing's accomplished. But for de Gaulle—he would want it to be some momentous meeting, and I think that meeting would have had terrific results in a way, or some results, and for finally de Gaulle to agree and all that—

  The President had some expectations a meeting with de Gaulle might ease things.

  Yes. You know, de Gaulle respected Jack and the whole way his opinion changed of him in Paris. I mean, I don't know what his opinion was, but obviously, everyone thought, "Who is this young President?" And, you know, the way he'd speak to me of him during the endless dinners—we sat next to each—you could just see that he was—or, what he told me about him after his funeral, upstairs.12 And then what—

  What did he say?

  THE BURIAL OF PRESIDENT JOHN F. KENNEDY

  Abbie Rowe, National Park Service/John F. Kennedy Library and Museum, Boston

  Well, I mean, that he just was one of these—you know, so impressive. And then Segonzac sent me a letter which I can show you that Burin des Roziers, who I think is de Gaulle's chief of cabinet,13 told Segonzac what de Gaulle really thought of Kennedy and, you know, he thought—I mean, as long as Kennedy was alive, he was the leader of the West. And maybe de Gaulle didn't like it sometimes, but he really looked up to him. And then, apparently—Bobby told me this later—Bohlen14 or someone—tried to say that Johnson would be all right, he was the one Kennedy had chosen as vice president—you know, reassure him in the first days. And about a month or so later, he said, "Kennedy may have made a mistake," or "You all may have made a mistake about that man." In other words, his opinion of Johnson fell very low. So he wouldn't have dared to—he never would have recognized Red China, I'm sure, if Jack had been alive. There are so many little things like that, because he respected him.

  Did the President have any particular—did he ever talk about Europe, in the sense of European unity and unification—Jean Monnet, for example? Did he mention him that much?

  Well, he always, in the very beginning, thought of Jean Monnet one of the first for the Medal of Freedom, and you know, so he thought he was a most wonderful man and that all that he worked and believed in, and everything.15 So I think he did think that was a marvelous idea. But he never—you know, he never really sat and talked to me an hour about European unity, but I know he thought—he was for it, wasn't he?

  Yes. I think it was quite characteristic. He was very much for it but he was much less interested than a lot of the people in the State Department about the questions of structure and all this kind of thing. And I think quite rightly so, because he knew if it came, it would come in its own way and you could get obsessed with the sort of tactical questions about it.

  Yeah, he never seemed to be pressing it, or anything, but—

  I think he saw it as a historic inevitability.

  Oh, and then he told me something very interesting. Oh, if he'd only written these things down because I've forgotten them. But what made de Gaulle veto the Common Market and what Macmillan had told him and how Macmillan had been out at Rambouillet about two weeks before.16

  That's right.

  And everything seemed to be fine and then there was some little thing here or there, some typically French thing of—like Hervé always being mad when he's not given precedence. Well, something that some country or person did that irritated him and bang-o, he turned around and did the other.

  I think he may have have felt—was it possibly this, that—

  Oh, well, maybe Nassau made him change it?

  Yeah, that he—that—

  That Macmillan told him at Nassau about Rambouillet.

  Yes, but Macmillan at Rambouillet had not said anything to de Gaulle about the Nassau agreement, and de Gaulle believed—did not understand that the Nassau agreement was drawn up—that the Nassau plan was drawn up on the plane down to Nassau—and supposed that Macmillan had already known about it then, was holding out on him.

  I see.

  Might that have been it?

  That's it. I guess so, yeah.

  Because I heard somewhat that sort of thing from the French here—that Macmillan came to Rambouillet and held out on de Gaulle and, therefore, de Gaulle regarded that as a personal betrayal.

  And that's why he suddenly did the Common Market, though at Rambouillet it had all looked wonderful. And I think—yeah.

  Though, or certainly why he did the Common Market so brutally. I think that, in any case, he might have done it but not in that kind of contemptuous way that he—that he did it. On other European leaders—Fanfani came here a couple of times. In fact, when I saw Fanfani, he reminded me that he first met the President at the Chicago convention in 1956.17

  Well, he liked Fanfani. You know, that was sort of the opening to the left and everything, I suppose—they got on well and—but I mean, he wasn't just, you know, inspired beyond belief by him.

  No, no.

  I can't think of any other leaders. I wasn't—Tito had a violent temperature when he saw him, so that was difficult.18

  Well, how was the Tito thing?

  I wasn't there. And I guess the poor man had a fever of 102 and couldn't eat anything. So it was mostly, you know, polite and all of that, but nothing much. I don't know really much about that.

  How did the Indian trip, which you and Lee took, happen to come up?

  Well, Nehru brought it up when he was here at dinner, or something. And then Ken Galbraith jumped on the idea. Then it was—it was delayed so many times. I was still so terribly tired after John and I didn't really want to go on that trip. But yet I sort of wanted to go to India. So, once it was delayed, you just weren't up to it, or
something was happening—I forget what. Could it have had something to do with Cuba? I don't know. It was put off—anyway, just to show you one thing how sweet Jack was. The schedule came back for two weeks. All over India! My God, it would have killed him, campaigning! And you wrote back and forth, and you tried to change it and he—and Ken would keep saying that the children at Mysore were weaving garlands, and this and that. So finally, we cut it, with a map, to very small—you know, just mostly Rajasthan and around India. And it was—we were in Florida, either Washington's Birthday, or Easter or something, I forget when we went—and Jack got through to Ken Galbraith, and Ken was really protesting on the phone, and he spent the whole last day of his little holiday there, shouting to Ken on a bad connection—you know, saying, "It's too much for her," and, "Ken, I don't care. Everyone complains. It's just what they say in campaigns when you tell them you can't. I'm not going to let her. She's tired." You know, he really fought to have that chopped off. Well, then—so he did that. You know, I guess he—it was wonderful to go to India, and he didn't really care if I went or not, but I guess he thought it would be nice.