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Dirksen, the old orator who can still draw a crowd to the Senate, arrived looking uncharacteristically well-pressed in a blue worsted suit. He had with him an eight-page prepared statement, but he quickly set it aside—"I do not read a manuscript very well," he explained—proceeding to deliver the sort of speech for which he has become famous.
"This could be, conceivably, a time of destiny for the country and for the world," said Dirksen. He readily acknowledged his initial doubts. "I rendered some offhand opinions at the time, some of which did not stand up," he said. "I saw them recited in an editorial the other day. One must expect that sort of thing in public life. But I do not let it bother me."
Searing Memory. Nor was the Senator from Illinois troubled by the fact that his constituents have besieged him with letters opposing the treaty. "I have admonished them over and over again," said Dirksen, "that, regardless of the entreaties and presentations that have been made to me, I feel that I must follow a type of formula laid down by Edmund Burke, the great parliamentarian and Prime Minister of Britain, when he said it was his business to consult with his people, but it would be a betrayal of his conscience and a disservice to them if he failed to exercise his independent judgment."
After also citing Chinese philosophy, Shakespeare and Abraham Lincoln, Dirksen said that what bothered him terribly was the searing memory of Hiroshima. Then, said he, "for the first time, the whole bosom of God's earth was ruptured by a man-made contrivance that we call a nuclear weapon." Continued Dirksen:
"Oh, the tragedy. Oh, the dismay. Oh, the blood. Oh, the anguish. When the statisticians came to put the cold figures on paper, they were as follows: as a result of one bomb—66,000 killed, 69,000 injured, 62,000 structures destroyed. That was the result of one bomb, made by man in the hope of stopping that war. Little did he realize what this thermonuclear weapon would do, and the anguish that would be brought into the hearts of men, women and children."
Unwanted Epitaph. The U.S.'s young President, said Dirksen, who is 67, "calls this treaty a first step. I want to take a first step, Mr. President. I am not a young man. One of my age thinks about his destiny a little. I should not like to have written on my tombstone, 'He knew what happened at Hiroshima, but he did not take a first step.' "
Concluded Dirksen: "This is a first, a single step. It is for destiny to write the answer. It is for history to render judgment. But with consummate faith and some determination, this may be the step that can spell a grander destiny for our country and for the world."
When it was all over, Mike Mansfield rose, faced his colleague across the aisle, and said, "I salute a great American." The debate may go on until some time next week, but after Ev Dirksen, it would surely be all anticlimax. For his support of the treaty, and his speech on its behalf, had assured its ratification.