Camelot on Tape

No surprises in J.F.K. records

More than 70 reporters, including veteran Kennedy watchers from the 1960s, converged on Boston's John F. Kennedy Library last week. The Washington Post sent its political stars, David Broder and Haynes Johnson. The Los Angeles Times dispatched seven Washington reporters, who arrived in a limousine equipped with a bar and TV set. Scanning the press crowd, NBC's John Hart asked, "What is this, a reunion?"

In a sense it was, and, like many reunions, it turned out to be disappointing. The expectant reporters had arrived to pick up tapes and transcripts of conversations secretly recorded at the White House by Kennedy in 1962 and 1963. They had hoped to gain new insights into J.F.K.'s handling of historic events like the Cuban missile crisis. At the least, they expected to get a more intimate glimpse of Kennedy's active social life. Instead, they were handed three volumes of transcripts from meetings on economic policies and one volume of discussions during the rioting at the University of Mississippi in October 1962, when James Meredith became the first black to register there. Some of the Mississippi conversations had been published in earlier books.

Unlike Richard Nixon's voice-activated taping system, Kennedy's--intended for his personal use in writing his memoirs--was turned on and off by his secretary, Evelyn Lincoln, in response to a signal light that J.F.K. flashed on her desk. He thus could choose what to record. The telephone talks are surprisingly clear, but most of the group discussions produced confused and often incomprehensible transcripts. The microphone was hidden under the Cabinet Room table in many of these meetings.

Kennedy emerges as far more incisive than Nixon, who let discussions ramble inconclusively. Kennedy listened to advisers argue policy proposals, then asked quick questions, never hesitating to reveal his own lack of expertise. "Can I just ask what was our deficit from last year?" he inquired of Budget Bureau Director David Bell in a meeting on whether to seek tax cuts. Kennedy did not understand the function of the Small Business Administration, asking: "Who can get something from the Small Business Administration that they can't get from the local bank?"

In a few meetings with close aides, Kennedy used profanity, which his library archivists did not delete. He occasionally exclaimed, "Christ!" or "God!" Like most Presidents, J.F.K. was keenly concerned about press play. He suggested to aides that maybe they ought to "knock down" an unfavorable story by the New York Times's James Reston, adding, "That's just kicking that Reston right in the balls, isn't it?"

The tapes catch little of the celebrated Kennedy wit, although the tenseness of the long night in which he and top advisers tried to direct events in distant Mississippi was broken by moments of levity. "I haven't had such an interesting time since the Bay of Pigs," J.F.K. said wryly as he sought to outmaneuver Mississippi's Governor Ross Barnett, who had twice blocked Meredith's registration at the university, inflaming racial tensions over the issue. Kennedy had sent some 500 federal marshals to the Oxford campus to protect Meredith as he arrived, and had federalized units of the National Guard in Mississippi. But the marshals were besieged by angry white mobs before Army troops arrived to support the marshals. Two people died in the rioting.

Kennedy sought advice from aides on whether Barnett and retired General Edwin A. Walker, who was stirring up the crowd against Meredith, could be arrested (Walker was). "Imagine that son of a bitch having been commander of a division," Kennedy said. In a series of telephone calls with Barnett, Kennedy firmly rebuffed the Governor's plea to withdraw Meredith from the campus.

Journalists and historians seeking more substantial revelations about the Kennedy presidency may have a long wait. Last week's release represented only about 5% of some 260 hours recorded by J.F.K. Many transcripts must get security clearance before being made public. The library is continuing to process the tapes, but its overworked archivists cannot be rushed. Their estimate of how long it will take to finish their task: at least 30 years. This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.