Divers try to raise the car belonging to Senator Edward Kennedy in which he was seriously injured and his passenger Mary Jo Kopechne was killed, at the Chappaquiddick Bridge.
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Prayers Sought
How will the case affect Kennedy's political career? One factor will be to what extent the U.S. public accepts his TV account of the debacle. It was a slick, carefully written statement that was well-delivered, with uncanny echoes of the haunting John Kennedy voice. Apart from its failure to answer key questions, it was disturbing in other respects. It played somewhat cheaply on the "Kennedy curse" and brought in rather more than necessary the shades of the slain brothers. Above all, Kennedy seemed to want it both ways. He asked to shoulder the blame for what happened: "I regard as indefensible the fact that I did not report the accident to the police immediately." At the same time he was obviously also begging to be excused. "I would understand full well why some might think it right for me to resign. I ask you tonight, the people of Massachusetts, to think this through with me. In facing this decision, I seek your advice and opinion. In making it, I seek your prayers."
There could be no doubt that the appeal was effective with many listeners and that Massachusetts, at any rate, would not abandon him. The speech, said Harvard Government Professor Samuel Beer, was a "great tribute to his humanity and strength." Many other Bay Staters obviously agreed. Tens of thousands of telegrams and phone calls offering support came into newspapers and TV and radio stations. Elsewhere, of course, reaction was more mixed. The usual surge of Kennedy hate mail came to Arena and, cruelly enough, to the dead woman's parents. In Massachusetts, where the Kennedys are almost sacrosanct, Republicans will probably still have a tough time finding a candidate of stature to contest Kennedy's Senate seat next year. In the Senate proper, his future may be unaffected. Members are notably tolerant of all kinds of peccadilloes by fellow Senators. "After all," noted Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield last week, "even a politician is human."
The Rigors of the Oval Office
But in some respects, a presidential candidate must be above the larger human frailties. Some people will always wonder whether Kennedy, who at best bent and broke under extreme pressure, can stand up to the rigors of the Oval Office. Would his judgment, like his brother's, remain unimpaired through the tension of a Cuban missile crisis? "Can we really trust him if the Russians come over the ice cap?" asked one Washington analyst last week. "Can he make the kind of split-second decisions the astronauts had to make in their landing on the moon? If this becomes a problem for him, some of the stuff he admitted about his behavior could be brought back and used against him." One sick joke already visualizes a Democrat asking about Nixon during the 1972 presidential campaign: "Would you let this man sell you a used car?" Answer: "Yes, but I sure wouldn't let that Teddy drive it."
Many Democrats as well as Republicans, liberals as well as conservatives, rushed to write Kennedy's political obituary. Many more, however, again from both parties and both ends of the political spectrum, were less convinced that the Senator had been damaged beyond repair. The situation has been widely compared with Richard Nixon's own comeback from defeat and eclipse—although the cases are entirely different, since Nixon has never been involved in a personal tragedy of such significance. Some years of hard work and impeccable behavior might well restore Kennedy's chances in public life. Some political observers believe that his resignation from the Senate—even if he is overwhelmingly supported by the Massachusetts public—would only help that process by demonstrating his sincere contrition. " 'Never' is a long time," said one moderate Republican Senator. "Kennedy has been hurt, but we're all so close to it this week that I just don't think anyone can judge so soon just how badly he's been hurt." The electorate's memory, of the good as well as the bad, can be surprisingly short.
Remember 1988
In any event, Kennedy has undoubtedly slipped drastically in the odds counting for the 1972 nomination, even as Edmund Muskie, Hubert Humphrey and George McGovern—not to mention some man yet unknown—have gained. That year is not out, of course, but the prospect last week was that 1976, when Ted will be only 44, will be more promising for him. Beyond that no one can see. It is worth noting that in 1988, another presidential year, Kennedy will be only one year older than Richard Nixon was when he finally won the crucial plurality.
Whatever conclusions political leaders and the public ultimately reach, however long or short the national memory, Kennedy may suffer in another, more basic way. He has not been a man devoid of self-doubt for some time. Now this burden could grow heavier, as he compares the Kennedy standard as it was passed to him and its present condition. Can he be sure of his own judgment and grit? He himself acknowledged the dilemma last week when he quoted from J.F.K.: "The stories of past courage cannot supply courage itself. For this, each man must look into his own soul."
* Under attack for having accepted an $18,000 private expense fund raised by California supporters, Nixon, the G.O.P. vice-presidential candidate, went on TV to explain and ask for a public verdict. One contribution he would never give up, Nixon said, was his daughters' dog Checkers—hence the name given the speech.