Robert F. Kennedy’s ferocious heart
Shortly after midnight on June 5, 1968, an armed fanatic shot Senator Robert F. Kennedy (D-NY) in a pantry of the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angeles. Kennedy had just won the crucial Democratic presidential primary in California, though by a narrow margin.
The assassination of President John F. Kennedy on November 22, 1963, in Dallas was a shocking, surprising tragedy for Americans and the world at large. The ongoing Cold War conflict with the Soviet Union was intense, and grew more confrontational during the activist regimes of both JFK and Nikita Khrushchev.
However, Americans had grown accustomed to political stability at home.
The assassination of Robert Kennedy was horrifying, indeed sickening, but by that point unfortunately not a surprise. The assassination of civil rights leader Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. took place in Memphis just two months before.
Riots in inner-city areas, and intense and sometimes violent anti-Vietnam War protests were occurring regularly. Security concerns meant that President Lyndon B. Johnson was restricted to military bases for most public speeches. To many, the country seemed to be coming apart.
Folklore, Hollywood and superficial media discussions of the politics of the time cast RFK as a successful, popular leader on the way to nomination. In fact, he was struggling hard when death took him.
Just before the California election, the other anti-Vietnam War candidate, Sen. Eugene McCarthy (D-MN), decisively defeated RFK in the important Oregon primary – a fact overlooked in many popular accounts of those days.
McCarthy showed courage in challenging LBJ for the party’s nomination, and was careful to consult Kennedy, who stated he planned not to run. Only after McCarthy’s success in the New Hampshire primary did Kennedy reverse course, thereby reinforcing a damaging reputation for ruthlessness.
Meanwhile, Vice President Hubert Humphrey was already close to the majority of convention delegates needed before the California primary.
Yet nonetheless, Robert Kennedy might have secured the party nomination for president. He could be a unifying candidate in that chaotic convention. He also might have joined Humphrey on the ticket as vice presidential nominee.
Kennedy publicly rejected accepting the vice presidency, but presidential hopefuls routinely say that. He had tried ferociously to force his way into the number two slot on the 1964 ticket, before LBJ – a man RFK despised – selected Humphrey as running mate. Humphrey and Kennedy had a friendly relationship, similar views on policy, and complementary abilities and constituencies.
Beating the odds, in the context of privilege, sums up Kennedy’s life. The one Kennedy brother who was short, slight and lacking in natural athletic ability, he was the only one to win a Harvard varsity football letter. He played one game with a broken leg. Teamster leader Jimmy Hoffa, a dangerous enemy, dismissed him as “the runt of the litter,” an unintentional compliment.
After Dallas, Kennedy secured election to the Senate and immediately became a public champion of civil rights and the poor. Over time, he became a Vietnam War critic, readily acknowledging his responsibility in creating the terrible bloodbath.
Along with his brothers, Robert Kennedy personified a commitment to public service.
That was respected in earlier years far more than today.
Kennedy held on to life despite terrible bullet wounds. Nevertheless, doctors concluded there was no hope of recovery; the damage to his brain was too devastating.
Finally, the attending medical staff removed life support equipment. Robert Kennedy’s heart simply refused to stop beating.
Arthur I. Cyr is Clausen Distinguished Professor at Carthage College and the author of “After the Cold War.” Contact acyr@carthage.edu.