1968 speech by U.S. Senator Robert F. Kennedy
"On the Mindless Menace of Violence" is a speech given by United States Senator and presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy. He delivered it in front of the City Club of Cleveland at the Sheraton-Cleveland Hotel on April 5, 1968, the day after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. With the speech, Kennedy sought to counter the King-related riots and disorder emerging in various cities, and address what he viewed as the growing problem of violence in American society.
On April 4, King, a prominent African-American civil rights leader, was assassinated. Race riots subsequently broke out across the United States. After delivering an improvised speech on the matter in Indianapolis, Kennedy withdrew to the hotel he was staying in and suspended his presidential campaign. Community leaders convinced him to keep a single engagement before the City Club of Cleveland. Doing away with his prepared remarks, Kennedy's speechwriters worked early into the morning of April 5 to craft a response to the assassination. Kennedy reviewed and revised the draft en route to Cleveland. Speaking for only ten minutes, Kennedy outlined his view on violence in American society before a crowd of 2,200. He criticized both the rioters and the white establishment who, from his perspective, were responsible for the deterioration of social conditions in the United States. He proposed no specific solutions to the internal division and conflict, but urged the audience to seek common ground and try to cooperate with other Americans.
Kennedy's speech received much less attention than his famous remarks in Indianapolis and was largely forgotten by the news media and scholars. However, several of his aides considered it to be among his finest orations. Journalist Jack Newfield was of the opinion that the address was a suitable epitaph for the senator, who was assassinated two months later.
Background.
On April 4, 1968, African-American civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated by a sniper in Memphis, Tennessee. United States Senator Robert F. Kennedy was traveling to Indianapolis to promote his presidential campaign when he heard the news. He delivered a brief, improvised speech on the matter before suspending all of his campaign activities and withdrawing to his room at the Marott Hotel. After several phone conversations with African-American community leaders, he decided to speak out against the violent backlash to the assassination and carry on with a scheduled appearance before the City Club of Cleveland. His aides concurred that this was the best course of action, and agreed that he should shortly thereafter go to Washington, D.C., and remain there until King could be buried. Kennedy also spoke over the phone with Coretta Scott King, King's widow, in Atlanta. At her request, Kennedy directed aide Frank Mankiewicz to arrange for a plane to retrieve King's body. Since most air carriers were wary of taking up such a task, a plane was chartered from one of Kennedy's friends. John Lewis and Earl Graves, among others, were dispatched to assist Coretta Scott King. Kennedy also had three additional phone lines installed at the King residence to handle the influx of incoming calls while his staff established a phone bank at West Hunter Baptist Church in Atlanta for the King family's use.
That night at the Marott Hotel, Kennedy hosted a meeting with 14 local black leaders. The meeting had been arranged before the assassination by aide James Tolan and took place in Tolan's room. The group had debated among themselves as to whether they should hold the meeting. Kennedy eventually arrived, and the conversation quickly became heated as leaders accused him of being an unreliable member of "the white establishment." He lost his temper, saying, "I don't need all this aggravation. I could sit next to my swimming pool. You know, God's been good to me and I really don't need anything. But I just feel that if He's been that good, I should try to put something back in. And you all call yourselves leaders and you've been moaning and groaning about personal problems. You haven't once talked about your own people." The meeting ended with most attendees pledging their support to Kennedy's campaign. One of them later acknowledged that Kennedy was "completely sympathetic and understanding".
Kennedy then restlessly wandered around the hotel, checking in on his staff. When asked if King's murder had reminded him of the 1963 assassination of United States President John F. Kennedy, his brother, Kennedy replied, "Well, that. But it makes me wonder what they might do to me too." He told speechwriter Jeff Greenfield, "You know, the death of Martin Luther King isn't the worse thing that ever happened in the world." Greenfield later said, "I could not for the life of me understand that callousness until, of course, I realized he had been thinking of the death of his brother."
Meanwhile, in their room, Greenfield and fellow speechwriter Adam Walinsky worked on a formal response to the King assassination with assistance over the phone from Ted Sorensen in New York City. Sorensen's memory differed in that he recalled receiving a call from Kennedy at his home in Washington D.C, rather than New York, on the night of April 4. Kennedy asked for Sorensen's thoughts on a speech being prepared for his appearance in Cleveland and said he would call back within the hour. Sorensen, mindful of the assassination of John F. Kennedy, quickly began writing notes on scrap pieces of paper. When Kennedy called back, Sorensen dictated what he had produced and the senator transcribed it. Mankiewicz later recalled being "occasionally" involved in the drafting process. Walinksy wrote most of the speech.
At about 02:30 on April 5, Kennedy discovered Walinsky asleep over his typewriter and Greenfield passed out on his bed. Kennedy pulled a blanket over Greenfield, who awoke and said, "You aren't so ruthless after all." Kennedy responded, "Don't tell anyone." Later in the morning, Walinsky and Greenfield inserted Sorensen's contributions and finished the speech.
Meanwhile, Kennedy sat down for an interview with entertainer Jack Paar. The senator was in a grave mood; when asked how he thought the White House might accommodate a family as large as his, he responded, "Do you think that is going to be my biggest problem?" When Paar more seriously asked if jobs would solve the problems of urban ghettos, Kennedy replied that while job opportunity was important, it needed to be accompanied by "compassion for one's fellow human beings." Paar then asked, "What did you think when you heard that Dr. King had been assassinated?" Kennedy answered, "That more and more people are turning to violence. And in the last analysis it's going to destroy our country."
During the flight to Cleveland Kennedy reviewed and considerably revised his speech. The plane arrived 90 minutes late. A planned motorcade from Hopkins International Airport was canceled out of respect for King. Instead, the senator rode into the city in an open white convertible. An aide from a phone-equipped vehicle waved down his car and informed him that police believed a sniper might be hiding in a church steeple across from the hotel where he was to give the speech. Bill Barry, Kennedy's bodyguard, recommended that the senator wait alongside the road while he would drive ahead to investigate. Kennedy angrily dismissed the suggestion, saying, "No. We'll never stop for that kind of threat." Kennedy passed through a crowd of approximately 10,000 people in Public Square that had gathered for a memorial service for King. He had been scheduled to speak there as well but canceled the event.
Speech.
Kennedy's appearance had been anticipated; in the week leading up to the address, the City Club sold over 1,400 tickets for people wishing to attend the luncheon event at the Sheraton-Cleveland Hotel. Local channels WKYC-TV 3 and WEWS-TV 5 interrupted their coverage of the King assassination to televise Kennedy's speech. It was delivered before approximately 2,200 members of the City Club of Cleveland and lasted only for 10 minutes. Kennedy spoke quietly and solemnly, incorporating tragic themes.
Summary.
Kennedy opened by dismissing his own political position and ambition as a presidential candidate and emphasizing the situation at hand, saying,
 ;templatestyles src="Template:Blockquote/styles.css" / ;This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity to speak briefly to you about this mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.
This statement set the tone of the speech. The senator then developed a notion of "violence" using strong, emotional language. He noted that violence afflicted all Americans, regardless of race. He proceeded to allude to King's death and to highlight the meaninglessness of violence, asking,
 ;templatestyles src="Template:Blockquote/styles.css" / ;Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by his assassin's bullet. No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero, and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of the people.
By saying this, Kennedy was admonishing people not to riot in wake of King's death and in effect equating their actions to that of the civil rights leader's assassin. After quoting Abraham Lincoln, he portrayed the American public as a people increasingly succumbing to its violent tendencies that undermined its national ideals. He argued that all deaths degraded American society, thereby assuming an uncompromising stance that any and all acts of violence were unacceptable.
Kennedy described how the United States was becoming increasingly tolerant of violence, from the acceptance of news reports on the Vietnam War, to the frequency of killing in movies and television shows, to insufficient gun control. He also criticized double standards on foreign and domestic policy, arguing that some Americans support nonviolence abroad but not within the United States while others who denounced riots were responsible for the conditions that had led to them. The statement led into his next comment, observing that some Americans "look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies." He then criticized government and private establishment:
 ;templatestyles src="Template:Blockquote/styles.css" / ;For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly, destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is a slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.
This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.
Even in the 1960s, such words were radical and potentially controversial. Kennedy proceeded to caution that when society tries to "teach" people to hate one another or that an individual is a "lesser man" (alluding to racially prejudiced rhetoric common of other public figures), the likelihood of cooperation decreased while the possibility for violent confrontation increased.
Kennedy listed no specific programs or proposals to address the problems at hand, as he believed there was no single solution that would bring an end to violence. Still, the senator asserted that if nothing were done, violence in the United States would persist. He voiced his hope that it could be stopped if people work together to bring about change. As Kennedy approached the end of his speech, his words became more forceful and hopeful. He finished with an allusion to Lincoln's second inaugural address:
 ;templatestyles src="Template:Blockquote/styles.css" / ;Our lives on this planet are too short, the work to be done is too great, to let this spirit flourish any longer in this land of ours. Of course we cannot banish it with a program, nor with a resolution. But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life, that they seek, as we do, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can. Surely this bond of common fate, this bond of common goals, can begin to teach us something. Surely we can learn, at the least, to look at those around