The Day John Kennedy Was Assassinated

Back in those days, we were very far from America. We could not fly there, and we did not even have televisions to show us what America looked like. We saw America’s natural and urban vistas only in movies and its political events only in the Carmel or Geva journals. However, we knew how important America was to us. We hated John Foster Dulles, Eisenhower’s secretary of state; we remembered that the Democratic Truman recognized and was a fan of Israel, and we very much wanted the Democratic Party to return to power.

We even knew that John Fitzgerald Kennedy had visited Israel before it became a state. He visited as part of a huge trip around the world, which he planned after the military released him because of health issues. He explored Tel Aviv and stayed in the Gat Rimon Hotel. In 1951, he visited again, this time as a member of the House of Representatives, and met with Prime Minister David Ben Gurion.

There was something breathtaking about this man who we saw as part of the new world: the James Dean of statesmanship, a young man, 43-years-old, who took the role of leadership of the free world upon himself, a world which we were part of as well. Many of us jumped for joy with Kennedy’s close victory over Richard Nixon, the leader of yesterday. We were pleased that he was the first Catholic to be elected president; we thought that, next time, maybe a Jewish president could be elected and then Israel would be rid of all its problems.

Before we read books about him, before movies were made about him, before news of the Chicago mafia that allegedly guaranteed his shady victory and before we believed his relationship with Marilyn Monroe — because Jackie was so young and so beautiful — he embodied the perfect leader: the young first lieutenant, who rescued the crew of his ship after it was blown up by the Japanese and who earned a Purple Heart and many other medals.

He was the prince of the Kennedy line, who studied at Princeton and Harvard, was elected to the House of Representatives at the age of 30, and the Senate five years later — a true liberal, who opposed McCarthyism and did not fear representing minority viewpoints before a wave of hysteria.

We forgave him for the Bay of Pigs invasion, the failed attempt to return Cuba to the West. We knew it had been planned prior to the commencement of his tenure, and we hoped he would be successful next time. We admired the young family that entered the White House and filled it with the sounds of children. We were excited when Patrick was born, months after his father was sworn into the presidency, and we were very sad when the infant’s young soul left this world days later.

A New Page

Against the backdrop of Israel’s aging leadership — Prime Minister David Ben Gurion and President Yizhak Ben Zvi, who were toward the end of their tenures — a new wind blew in from the West, a wind we hoped would reach us too. When Kennedy delivered his inaugural address and called upon the American people to ask themselves not what their country could do for them, but what they could do for their country, we were reminded of a figure similar to Moshe Dayan, and we felt he was speaking to us too. We applauded him when he did not give in to Nikita Khrushchev and convinced Russia to withdraw its missiles from Cuba.

We could not hide our excitement when he met with Ben Gurion. Sure, it was not an official visit, and they met at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in New York rather than the White House, but they met nevertheless. When, as a result of this meeting, American Hawk missiles arrived, we knew that the period of American ostracism incited by Dulles was over.

At that moment, we knew that a new era of friendship toward Israel had commenced, headed by Kennedy; and even with our lingering distaste toward the Germans at the time, when we heard Kennedy proclaim, “Ich bin ein Berliner,” on the radio, we could not help but cheer with excitement together with the crowds cheering him there, in a divided and wall-surrounded Berlin. We also followed his fight against racism and his determination to abolish all the discriminatory laws in the southern United States.

We identified with the values he expressed and with the new chapter presented to the world. Together with him, we left the 1950s and stepped into the ‘60s, a time when the shadows of war moved farther away. It was a time characterized by wonderful, new music, the cancellation of limitations on various areas of life and a clearly divided world, marked by the men of light in the West and the men of darkness in the East.

For No Obvious Reason

And then, in November 1963, just like thunder on a bright day, Kol Israel reported that the American president had been shot when he and his wife were driving down the streets of Dallas in an open convertible. This news was incomprehensible. How did some bastard in the safest place in the world manage to reach the president of the free world and murder him? Who really wanted to assassinate him? The Russians? And what now? Who would replace him? Johnson, the elderly party businessman? Can such a man as Johnson really take the place of this young, bright man, this wonderful speaker, this man of value, who sought to educate the world? It could not be!

It was a Friday. I was in 10th grade and had just returned from a meeting with friends. On the way home, I met up with another group from my class, which was standing next to the Mishlat Corner, on the corner of Allenby and Shenkin in Tel Aviv. The huge kiosk was usually closed Friday evenings, but it was always our meeting spot. I remember telling the group that Kennedy had been murdered; I will never forget the looks of shock on my friends’ faces.

The reaction of people to Kennedy’s murder nearly mirrored people’s reaction to Rabin’s murder 32 years later. It represented an end to an era of innocence — a kind of message that the world was still crueler and crazier than we wanted to believe, that it is easier to end the life of a war hero, in a traditional manner and with no obvious reason, without the murderer being put on trial.

Afterward, many books were written about Kennedy, many of which discussed his weaknesses, infidelities, family’s relations with shady people and the bad decisions he made. It could very well be that there is a reason for this delayed criticism, but I believe that for the young people of the 1960s, he remains an example of another kind of leadership — a brave man of value, who sought to better the world and who fell while on duty.

And there is, of course, the Jewish and Israeli perspective: During his tenure — and largely with the Supreme Court’s help — the American government opened its doors to many Jews. Kennedy was a true friend to Israel.