MONDAY, JANUARY
20, 1969
[Transcriber's
note: An almost-winner of the 1960 election, and a close winner of the 1968
election, the former Vice President and California Senator and Congressman had
defeated the Democratic Vice President, Hubert Humphrey, and the American
Independent Party candidate, George Wallace. Chief Justice Earl Warren administered
the oath of office for the fifth time. The President addressed the large crowd
from a pavilion on the East Front of the Capitol. The address was televised by
satellite around the world.]
Senator Dirksen, Mr. Chief Justice, Mr. Vice President,
President Johnson, Vice President Humphrey, my fellow Americans—and my fellow
citizens of the world community:
I ask you to share with me today the majesty of this
moment. In the orderly transfer of power, we celebrate the unity that keeps us
free.
Each moment in history is a fleeting time, precious and
unique. But some stand out as moments of beginning, in which courses are set
that shape decades or centuries.
This can be such a moment.
Forces now are converging that make possible, for the
first time, the hope that many of man's deepest aspirations can at last be
realized. The spiraling pace of change allows us to contemplate, within our own
lifetime, advances that once would have taken centuries.
In throwing wide the horizons of space, we have discovered
new horizons on earth.
For the first time, because the people of the world want
peace, and the leaders of the world are afraid of war, the times are on the
side of peace.
Eight years from now America will celebrate its 200th
anniversary as a nation. Within the lifetime of most people now living, mankind
will celebrate that great new year which comes only once in a thousand
years—the beginning of the third millennium.
What kind of nation we will be, what kind of world we
will live in, whether we shape the future in the image of our hopes, is ours to
determine by our actions and our choices.
The greatest honor history can bestow is the title of
peacemaker. This honor now beckons America—the chance to help lead the world at
last out of the valley of turmoil, and onto that high ground of peace that man
has dreamed of since the dawn of civilization.
If we succeed, generations to come will say of us now
living that we mastered our moment, that we helped make the world safe for
mankind.
This is our summons to greatness.
I believe the American people are ready to answer this
call.
The second third of this century has been a time of proud
achievement. We have made enormous strides in science and industry and
agriculture. We have shared our wealth more broadly than ever. We have learned
at last to manage a modern economy to assure its continued growth.
We have given freedom new reach, and we have begun to
make its promise real for black as well as for white.
We see the hope of tomorrow in the youth of today. I know
America's youth. I believe in them. We can be proud that they are better
educated, more committed, more passionately driven by conscience than any
generation in our history.
No people has ever been so close to the achievement of a
just and abundant society, or so possessed of the will to achieve it. Because
our strengths are so great, we can afford to appraise our weaknesses with
candor and to approach them with hope.
Standing in this same place a third of a century ago,
Franklin Delano Roosevelt addressed a Nation ravaged by depression and gripped
in fear. He could say in surveying the Nation's troubles: "They concern,
thank God, only material things."
Our crisis today is the reverse.
We have found ourselves rich in goods, but ragged in
spirit; reaching with magnificent precision for the moon, but falling into
raucous discord on earth.
We are caught in war, wanting peace. We are torn by
division, wanting unity. We see around us empty lives, wanting fulfillment. We
see tasks that need doing, waiting for hands to do them.
To a crisis of the spirit, we need an answer of the
spirit.
To find that answer, we need only look within ourselves.
When we listen to "the better angels of our
nature," we find that they celebrate the simple things, the basic
things—such as goodness, decency, love, kindness.
Greatness comes in simple trappings.
The simple things are the ones most needed today if we
are to surmount what divides us, and cement what unites us.
To lower our voices would be a simple thing.
In these difficult years, America has suffered from a
fever of words; from inflated rhetoric that promises more than it can deliver;
from angry rhetoric that fans discontents into hatreds; from bombastic rhetoric
that postures instead of persuading.
We cannot learn from one another until we stop shouting
at one another—until we speak quietly enough so that our words can be heard as
well as our voices.
For its part, government will listen. We will strive to
listen in new ways—to the voices of quiet anguish, the voices that speak
without words, the voices of the heart—to the injured voices, the anxious
voices, the voices that have despaired of being heard.
Those who have been left out, we will try to bring in.
Those left behind, we will help to catch up.
For all of our people, we will set as our goal the decent
order that makes progress possible and our lives secure.
As we reach toward our hopes, our task is to build on
what has gone before—not turning away from the old, but turning toward the new.
In this past third of a century, government has passed
more laws, spent more money, initiated more programs, than in all our previous
history.
In pursuing our goals of full employment, better housing,
excellence in education; in rebuilding our cities and improving our rural
areas; in protecting our environment and enhancing the quality of life—in all these
and more, we will and must press urgently forward.
We shall plan now for the day when our wealth can be
transferred from the destruction of war abroad to the urgent needs of our
people at home.
The American dream does not come to those who fall
asleep.
But we are approaching the limits of what government
alone can do.
Our greatest need now is to reach beyond government, and
to enlist the legions of the concerned and the committed.
What has to be done, has to be done by government and
people together or it will not be done at all. The lesson of past agony is that
without the people we can do nothing; with the people we can do everything.
To match the magnitude of our tasks, we need the energies
of our people—enlisted not only in grand enterprises, but more importantly in
those small, splendid efforts that make headlines in the neighborhood newspaper
instead of the national journal.
With these, we can build a great cathedral of the
spirit—each of us raising it one stone at a time, as he reaches out to his
neighbor, helping, caring, doing.
I do not offer a life of uninspiring ease. I do not call
for a life of grim sacrifice. I ask you to join in a high adventure—one as rich
as humanity itself, and as exciting as the times we live in.
The essence of freedom is that each of us shares in the
shaping of his own destiny.
Until he has been part of a cause larger than himself, no
man is truly whole.
The way to fulfillment is in the use of our talents; we
achieve nobility in the spirit that inspires that use.
As we measure what can be done, we shall promise only
what we know we can produce, but as we chart our goals we shall be lifted by
our dreams.
No man can be fully free while his neighbor is not. To go
forward at all is to go forward together.
This means black and white together, as one nation, not
two. The laws have caught up with our conscience. What remains is to give life
to what is in the law: to ensure at last that as all are born equal in dignity
before God, all are born equal in dignity before man.
As we learn to go forward together at home, let us also
seek to go forward together with all mankind.
Let us take as our goal: where peace is unknown, make it
welcome; where peace is fragile, make it strong; where peace is temporary, make
it permanent.
After a period of confrontation, we are entering an era
of negotiation.
Let all nations know that during this administration our
lines of communication will be open.
We seek an open world—open to ideas, open to the exchange
of goods and people—a world in which no people, great or small, will live in
angry isolation.
We cannot expect to make everyone our friend, but we can
try to make no one our enemy.
Those who would be our adversaries, we invite to a
peaceful competition—not in conquering territory or extending dominion, but in
enriching the life of man.
As we explore the reaches of space, let us go to the new
worlds together—not as new worlds to be conquered, but as a new adventure to be
shared.
With those who are willing to join, let us cooperate to
reduce the burden of arms, to strengthen the structure of peace, to lift up the
poor and the hungry.
But to all those who would be tempted by weakness, let us
leave no doubt that we will be as strong as we need to be for as long as we
need to be.
Over the past twenty years, since I first came to this
Capital as a freshman Congressman, I have visited most of the nations of the
world.
I have come to know the leaders of the world, and the
great forces, the hatreds, the fears that divide the world.
I know that peace does not come through wishing for
it—that there is no substitute for days and even years of patient and prolonged
diplomacy.
I also know the people of the world.
I have seen the hunger of a homeless child, the pain of a
man wounded in battle, the grief of a mother who has lost her son. I know these
have no ideology, no race.
I know America. I know the heart of America is good.
I speak from my own heart, and the heart of my country,
the deep concern we have for those who suffer, and those who sorrow.
I have taken an oath today in the presence of God and my
countrymen to uphold and defend the Constitution of the United States. To that
oath I now add this sacred commitment: I shall consecrate my office, my
energies, and all the wisdom I can summon, to the cause of peace among nations.
Let this message be heard by strong and weak alike:
The peace we seek to win is not victory over any other
people, but the peace that comes "with healing in its wings"; with
compassion for those who have suffered; with understanding for those who have
opposed us; with the opportunity for all the peoples of this earth to choose
their own destiny.
Only a few short weeks ago, we shared the glory of man's
first sight of the world as God sees it, as a single sphere reflecting light in
the darkness.
As the Apollo astronauts flew over the moon's gray
surface on Christmas Eve, they spoke to us of the beauty of earth—and in that
voice so clear across the lunar distance, we heard them invoke God's blessing
on its goodness.
In that moment, their view from the moon moved poet
Archibald MacLeish to write:
"To see the earth as it truly is, small and blue and
beautiful in that eternal silence where it floats, is to see ourselves as
riders on the earth together, brothers on that bright loveliness in the eternal
cold—brothers who know now they are truly brothers."
In that moment of surpassing technological triumph, men
turned their thoughts toward home and humanity—seeing in that far perspective
that man's destiny on earth is not divisible; telling us that however far we
reach into the cosmos, our destiny lies not in the stars but on Earth itself,
in our own hands, in our own hearts.
We have endured a long night of the American spirit. But
as our eyes catch the dimness of the first rays of dawn, let us not curse the
remaining dark. Let us gather the light.
Our destiny offers, not the cup of despair, but the
chalice of opportunity. So let us seize it, not in fear, but in gladness—and,
"riders on the earth together," let us go forward, firm in our faith,
steadfast in our purpose, cautious of the dangers; but sustained by our
confidence in the will of God and the promise of man.