A particular JFK speech

[Michael Bailey]

I think the conspiracy he's talking about is Communism.  the phrase
"secret societies" is part of a statement of how he opposes
censorship, and a bunch of other boilerplate about how sneaky and
subversive the Commies were.

Nowadays we're aware of all the conspiracies, so the first thing we
think is "Secret Societies!  Skull and Bones! Where was George HW Bush
on 11/22/63?"  but back then, this was just Kennedy doing a certain
amount of obligatory Cold Warrior speechifying.

...but he does it with a JFK flair!

Picture it:
He's in front of the newspaper publishers (who haven't been too kind to him)

He makes a few lightly humorous remarks, and then
the "secret societies" phrase is part of his transitional "but
seriously, folks" remarks


-- basically, I'd paraphrase this as,

"I'm not going to compel you guys to publish or not publish anything.
But- as my opening anecdote about Marx shows -- your actions do have
consequences.

If you guys would have paid him decently he'd have kept writing
articles and not founded the Communist Party and we might not be
fighting his followers worldwide.
But we are.
Heck, I could start a special office of censorship - but I won't do that.

So please stop writing bad stuff about me?"


--- here's the whole speech:

Full Speech

Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen:

I appreciate very much your generous invitation to be here tonight.


You bear heavy responsibilities these days and an article I read some
time ago reminded me of how particularly heavily the burdens of
present day events bear upon your profession.

You may remember that in 1851 the New York Herald Tribune under the
sponsorship and publishing of Horace Greeley, employed as its London
correspondent an obscure journalist by the name of Karl Marx.

We are told that foreign correspondent Marx, stone broke, and with a
family ill and undernourished, constantly appealed to Greeley and
managing editor Charles Dana for an increase in his munificent salary
of $5 per installment, a salary which he and Engels ungratefully
labeled as the “lousiest petty bourgeois cheating.”

But when all his financial appeals were refused, Marx looked around
for other means of livelihood and fame, eventually terminating his
relationship with the Tribune and devoting his talents full time to
the cause that would bequeath the world the seeds of Leninism,
Stalinism, revolution and the cold war.

If only this capitalistic New York newspaper had treated him more
kindly; if only Marx had remained a foreign correspondent, history
might have been different. And I hope all publishers will bear this
lesson in mind the next time they receive a poverty-stricken appeal
for a small increase in the expense account from an obscure newspaper
man.

I have selected as the title of my remarks tonight “The President and
the Press.” Some may suggest that this would be more naturally worded
“The President Versus the Press.” But those are not my sentiments
tonight.

It is true, however, that when a well-known diplomat from another
country demanded recently that our State Department repudiate certain
newspaper attacks on his colleague it was unnecessary for us to reply
that this Administration was not responsible for the press, for the
press had already made it clear that it was not responsible for this
Administration.


Nevertheless, my purpose here tonight is not to deliver the usual
assault on the so-called one party press. On the contrary, in recent
months I have rarely heard any complaints about political bias in the
press except from a few Republicans. Nor is it my purpose tonight to
discuss or defend the televising of Presidential press conferences. I
think it is highly beneficial to have some 20,000,000 Americans
regularly sit in on these conferences to observe, if I may say so, the
incisive, the intelligent and the courteous qualities displayed by
your Washington correspondents.
 Nor, finally, are these remarks intended to examine the proper degree
of privacy which the press should allow to any President and his
family.

If in the last few months your White House reporters and photographers
have been attending church services with regularity, that has surely
done them no harm.On the other hand, I realize that your staff and
wire service photographers may be complaining that they do not enjoy
the same green privileges at the local golf courses that they once
did.
 It is true that my predecessor did not object as I do to pictures of
one’s golfing skill in action. But neither on the other hand did he
ever bean a Secret Service man.

My topic tonight is a more sober one of concern to publishers as well
as editors.

I want to talk about our common responsibilities in the face of a
common danger. The events of recent weeks may have helped to
illuminate that challenge for some; but the dimensions of its threat
have loomed large on the horizon for many years. Whatever our hopes
may be for the future–for reducing this threat or living with it–there
is no escaping either the gravity or the totality of its challenge to
our survival and to our security–a challenge that confronts us in
unaccustomed ways in every sphere of human activity.

This deadly challenge imposes upon our society two requirements of
direct concern both to the press and to the President–two requirements
that may seem almost contradictory in tone, but which must be
reconciled and fulfilled if we are to meet this national peril. I
refer, first, to the need for a far greater public information; and,
second, to the need for far greater official secrecy.

The very word “secrecy” is repugnant in a free and open society; and
we are as a people inherently and historically opposed to secret
societies, to secret oaths and to secret proceedings. We decided long
ago that the dangers of excessive and unwarranted concealment of
pertinent facts far outweighed the dangers which are cited to justify
it. Even today, there is little value in opposing the threat of a
closed society by imitating its arbitrary restrictions. Even today,
there is little value in insuring the survival of our nation if our
traditions do not survive with it. And there is very grave danger that
an announced need for increased security will be seized upon by those
anxious to expand its meaning to the very limits of official
censorship and concealment. That I do not intend to permit to the
extent that it is in my control. And no official of my Administration,
whether his rank is high or low, civilian or military, should
interpret my words here tonight as an excuse to censor the news, to
stifle dissent, to cover up our mistakes or to withhold from the press
and the public the facts they deserve to know.

But I do ask every publisher, every editor, and every newsman in the
nation to reexamine his own standards, and to recognize the nature of
our country’s peril. In time of war, the government and the press have
customarily joined in an effort based largely on self-discipline, to
prevent unauthorized disclosures to the enemy. In time of “clear and
present danger,” the courts have held that even the privileged rights
of the First Amendment must yield to the public’s need for national
security.
 Today no war has been declared–and however fierce the struggle may
be, it may never be declared in the traditional fashion. Our way of
life is under attack. Those who make themselves our enemy are
advancing around the globe. The survival of our friends is in danger.
And yet no war has been declared, no borders have been crossed by
marching troops, no missiles have been fired.
 If the press is awaiting a declaration of war before it imposes the
self-discipline of combat conditions, then I can only say that no war
ever posed a greater threat to our security. If you are awaiting a
finding of “clear and present danger,” then I can only say that the
danger has never been more clear and its presence has never been more
imminent.

It requires a change in outlook, a change in tactics, a change in
missions–by the government, by the people, by every businessman or
labor leader, and by every newspaper. For we are opposed around the
world by a monolithic and ruthless conspiracy that relies primarily on
covert means for expanding its sphere of influence–on infiltration
instead of invasion, on subversion instead of elections, on
intimidation instead of free choice, on guerrillas by night instead of
armies by day. It is a system which has conscripted vast human and
material resources into the building of a tightly knit, highly
efficient machine that combines military, diplomatic, intelligence,
economic, scientific and political operations.

Its preparations are concealed, not published. Its mistakes are
buried, not headlined. Its dissenters are silenced, not praised. No
expenditure is questioned, no rumor is printed, no secret is revealed.
It conducts the Cold War, in short, with a war-time discipline no
democracy would ever hope or wish to match.Nevertheless, every
democracy recognizes the necessary restraints of national security–and
the question remains whether those restraints need to be more strictly
observed if we are to oppose this kind of attack as well as outright
invasion.
 For the facts of the matter are that this nation’s foes have openly
boasted of acquiring through our newspapers information they would
otherwise hire agents to acquire through theft, bribery or espionage;
that details of this nation’s covert preparations to counter the
enemy’s covert operations have been available to every newspaper
reader, friend and foe alike; that the size, the strength, the
location and the nature of our forces and weapons, and our plans and
strategy for their use, have all been pinpointed in the press and
other news media to a degree sufficient to satisfy any foreign power;
and that, in at least in one case, the publication of details
concerning a secret mechanism whereby satellites were followed
required its alteration at the expense of considerable time and money.
 The newspapers which printed these stories were loyal, patriotic,
responsible and well-meaning. Had we been engaged in open warfare,
they undoubtedly would not have published such items. But in the
absence of open warfare, they recognized only the tests of journalism
and not the tests of national security. And my question tonight is
whether additional tests should not now be adopted.


The question is for you alone to answer. No public official should
answer it for you. No governmental plan should impose its restraints
against your will. But I would be failing in my duty to the nation, in
considering all of the responsibilities that we now bear and all of
the means at hand to meet those responsibilities, if I did not commend
this problem to your attention, and urge its thoughtful consideration.
 On many earlier occasions, I have said–and your newspapers have
constantly said–that these are times that appeal to every citizen’s
sense of sacrifice and self-discipline. They call out to every citizen
to weigh his rights and comforts against his obligations to the common
good. I cannot now believe that those citizens who serve in the
newspaper business consider themselves exempt from that appeal.

I have no intention of establishing a new Office of War Information to
govern the flow of news. I am not suggesting any new forms of
censorship or any new types of security classifications. I have no
easy answer to the dilemma that I have posed, and would not seek to
impose it if I had one. But I am asking the members of the newspaper
profession and the industry in this country to reexamine their own
responsibilities, to consider the degree and the nature of the present
danger, and to heed the duty of self-restraint which that danger
imposes upon us all.

Every newspaper now asks itself, with respect to every story: “Is it
news?” All I suggest is that you add the question: “Is it in the
interest of the national security?” And I hope that every group in
America–unions and businessmen and public officials at every level–
will ask the same question of their endeavors, and subject their
actions to the same exacting tests.
 And should the press of America consider and recommend the voluntary
assumption of specific new steps or machinery, I can assure you that
we will cooperate whole-heartedly with those recommendations.
 Perhaps there will be no recommendations. Perhaps there is no answer
to the dilemma faced by a free and open society in a cold and secret
war. In times of peace, any discussion of this subject, and any action
that results, are both painful and without precedent. But this is a
time of peace and peril which knows no precedent in history.

It is the unprecedented nature of this challenge that also gives rise
to your second obligation–an obligation which I share. And that is our
obligation to inform and alert the American people–to make certain
that they possess all the facts that they need, and understand them as
well–the perils, the prospects, the purposes of our program and the
choices that we face.

No President should fear public scrutiny of his program. For from that
scrutiny comes understanding; and from that understanding comes
support or opposition. And both are necessary. I am not asking your
newspapers to support the Administration, but I am asking your help in
the tremendous task of informing and alerting the American people. For
I have complete confidence in the response and dedication of our
citizens whenever they are fully informed.
 I not only could not stifle controversy among your readers–I welcome
it. This Administration intends to be candid about its errors; for as
a wise man once said: “An error does not become a mistake until you
refuse to correct it.” We intend to accept full responsibility for our
errors; and we expect you to point them out when we miss them.

Without debate, without criticism, no Administration and no country
can succeed–and no republic can survive. That is why the Athenian
lawmaker Solon decreed it a crime for any citizen to shrink from
controversy. And that is why our press was protected by the First
Amendment– the only business in America specifically protected by the
Constitution- -not primarily to amuse and entertain, not to emphasize
the trivial and the sentimental, not to simply “give the public what
it wants”–but to inform, to arouse, to reflect, to state our dangers
and our opportunities, to indicate our crises and our choices, to
lead, mold, educate and sometimes even anger public opinion.

This means greater coverage and analysis of international news–for it
is no longer far away and foreign but close at hand and local. It
means greater attention to improved understanding of the news as well
as improved transmission. And it means, finally, that government at
all levels, must meet its obligation to provide you with the fullest
possible information outside the narrowest limits of national
security–and we intend to do it.

It was early in the Seventeenth Century that Francis Bacon remarked on
three recent inventions already transforming the world: the compass,
gunpowder and the printing press. Now the links between the nations
first forged by the compass have made us all citizens of the world,
the hopes and threats of one becoming the hopes and threats of us all.
In that one world’s efforts to live together, the evolution of
gunpowder to its ultimate limit has warned mankind of the terrible
consequences of failure.

And so it is to the printing press–to the recorder of man’s deeds, the
keeper of his conscience, the courier of his news–that we look for
strength and assistance, confident that with your help man will be
what he was born to be: free and independent.