June 11, 1975
Page 18336
SENATOR MUSKIE'S TILTON ACADEMY ADDRESS
Mr. McINTYRE. Mr. President, the distinguished senior Senator from the State of Maine came into my State recently to deliver the commencement address at Tilton Academy.
I would like to call my colleagues' attention to this speech, because Senator MUSKIE proved once again, as he did so often in his Vice-Presidential campaign of 1968, that he knows how to reach the young people of America.
The Tilton Academy address was an eloquent blend of fact-facing and inspiration.
Senator MUSKIE responded to youths' insistence upon candor by laying out the hard truth about our troubles – from the "unhappy memories" of Indochina, to our sudden awareness of the limitations of energy supply and distribution, to inflation and recession, to the end of the illusion that money and machines can solve every problem.
But he also forcefully argued against despair, saying:
It is a mistake to see the future in terms of the gloomy present.
We overestimated our interests in Indochina in the first place.
Let us not now overemphasize the consequences of our frustrations there.
The Senator said it is nonsense to portray us "The Fading America," and, ticking off the many failures of Russia since the close of World War II, pointedly asked: "Where is all the talk about the 'fading' of the Soviet Union?"
The Senator then went on to say:
I do not mean to downplay the real problems we face in the world. But, the end of American influence is not at hand. I doubt we could eliminate our enormous influence in this world even if we tried. Our challenge is to debate intelligently how best that influence should be used.
The Senator then asked his young audience to rise to this challenge, to put to use the lessons learned about "false national pride and how even good men can be corrupted by a bad war – the lessons about self-discipline, thrift, and conservation of resources we are learning from the energy crisis and the economic crisis – and the lessons about the value of truth and honor and decency and respect for venerable institutions taught by Watergate."
Finally, the Senator cites from a warm and moving letter he and Mrs. Muskie received from one of their teenage daughters to point up the final eloquent appeal he makes in these words:
You young people are an enormously exciting national resource. You are different in many ways and many of the differences are healthy ones. You have different values – and many of those values will be good for the country. And you are pushing for changes which we too often resent and resist to the point of alienating our children.
And that is the wrong way, because we have much to give you. And you have much to give us. I say to my generation, "Let us welcome those differences and perhaps they will bring us the kind of world we all want."
Mr. President, because I believe Senator MUSKIE's wise words should be read by all of us, I ask unanimous consent to have the full text of his Tilton Academy speech printed in the RECORD.
There being no objection, the speech was ordered to be printed in the RECORD, as follows:
Our involvement in Indochina is over. It cost us dearly: over 55,000 American lives lost ... $150 billion of our Nation's treasure.
And – in retrospect – it served no apparent national interest.
Indochina will bring unhappy memories for us years to come.
And as though that discouraging experience is not enough, others have accumulated to test our self-confidence as a nation.
The oil embargo has brought a sudden awareness of the limitations of energy supply and distribution;
The resulting inflation and deep recession have imposed sharp limitations on incomes, jobs and standards of life;
The limitations of air and water, of the oceans, of vital materials, and of the world's capacity to feed the hungry, further complicate our view of the future.
Within the span of a decade the American belief in the virtually unlimited future – to be achieved by the irresistible drive and energy of our system – appears to have been converted to a day-to- day struggle for the very necessities.
Many have spoken of the need to learn the lessons of Vietnam, as if those lessons were obvious. But in only one sense have we learned an obvious lesson: that there are limits to what we can do in the world – and that to attempt to do things beyond our means can be very costly.
Our Indochina experience has destroyed one great American illusion of the post-World War II period: that money and machines can solve any problem. America had more money and better machines than anyone else, so we were willing to try to solve some very big problems. One such problem was Indochina – and the problem there was how we could help bridge the gap between French Colonial status and the development of viable, independent, noncommunist states in the region.
Unfortunately, the principal forces which fought the French in Indochina did not agree with our goal, so they continued to fight us. We thought we could succeed where the French had failed. We were wrong.
So this whole tragic episode in our history has made us wiser, and it will make us more cautious in the future about becoming entangled in the internal affairs of countries and regions which are not central to our interests.
In other respects, the lessons of Vietnam are ambiguous. If you have followed press comment closely, you will have noted that people have learned very different "lessons" from Vietnam. Some people say we have learned not to support corrupt and unpopular regimes, even when they are under attack from Communist forces.
Others say we have learned not to fight a limited war in Asia – that the next time we should use maximum power. Still others say that Communism is no longer a threat to our Nation's well- being because it is not a monolithic force, and Communist nations tend to quarrel with one another as much as they do with us. Many people say simply that we should pick and choose more selectively in making international commitments – but they do not explain just what hard choices should be made.
So our country needs to debate these questions as it charts new directions in our foreign policy.
We are still faced with tough choices which must be made – and the policy choices are not always obvious. But we cannot retreat into isolationism, and we cannot avoid the burden of being the world's greatest power.
An issue of the Economist last month – the leading British magazine of news and analysis – featured a cover story entitled "the Fading America" – with pictures illustrating our troubles in Asia, Europe and the Middle East. It is certainly true that we are facing many difficult problems in today's world. But the image of a "fading" America is, in my view, nonsense. As James Reston of the New York Times said in a recent column, it is a mistake to see the future in terms of the gloomy present. We overestimated our interests in Indochina in the first place. Let us not now overemphasize the consequences of our frustrations there.
Take, for example, the case of the Soviet Union. The Soviet Union failed to achieve its political goals in Europe after World War II, despite the fact that Europe lay prostrate at her feet. The Soviets forged a dramatic alliance with China, only to see it fall to ruins. It achieved inroads in Cuba, only to be humilitated by President Kennedy in the missile crisis. It supplied the Arab States with military hardware, only to see their military advisers kicked out of Egypt. But where is all the talk about "fading" of the Soviet Union?
I do not mean to downplay the real problems we face in the world. But the end of American influence is not at hand. I doubt we could eliminate our enormous influence in this world even if we tried. Our challenge is to debate intelligently how best that influence should be used.
Secretary Kissinger stated it well the other day with these words:
"We cannot abandon values which are inseparable from America. Though we are no longer predominate, we are inescapably a leader. Though we cannot propose our solutions, few solutions are possible without us. There is no other country so endowed to help build a better future. If we sit back, there will be no hope for stability, no resistance to aggression, no effective mediation of disputes, no progress on the world economy."
The Mayaguez incident last week was an appropriate demonstration of our determination to protect our legitimate interests, including American lives and property.
We must be equally sensitive to the legitimate interests of other peoples and nations and to the use of our undoubted strength and influence to strengthen the cooperative efforts we must develop if we are to reduce the burden of arms, put food within reach of the starving, insure fair and equitable access to the world's energy and raw materials, stabilize the trouble spots of the planet.
There is much work to be done; but the mood in America today is troubled. And we are not sure what we believe in any longer.
Do we still believe in our country? Do we still believe in each other? Do we still believe in our ability to deal with our problems and to build something better for tomorrow than we know today?
My generation came out of World War II with a commitment to the future.
Understanding that it carried an obligation to become involved in the works of peace – realizing that what we fought for in war was meaningless unless we were willing to work for it in peacetime.
We have just ended our involvement in the longest, most hated war in our history and we are not sure about our commitment. The war was a mistake and it turned many people off in this country – especially the young.
That could be the greatest mistake of all.
I entered politics because I wanted to become involved. It wasn't more than two weeks after my first election that I heard myself referred to as one of those "damn politicians!"
That attitude is, unfortunately, an old American custom. It is more intense today.
Politics is not alien to anything in our national life. Politics is basic. How good everything else is depends on how sound and good our politics and politicians are.
A few weeks ago, on the op-ed page of the New York Times, I read a piece by a Nick Rowe.
Nick was captured in the Mekong Delta by the Vietcong in 1963, escaped in 1968, after five years of imprisonment and, more recently, was an unsuccessful candidate for Texas State Comptroller in last November's elections.
Searching for the reason why he survived five years and found the courage and endurance to attempt a successful escape, Mr. Rowe puts it very simply: "There were three faiths that formed the core of my endurance," he says.
"The first was faith in God. I learned how to pray.
"The second faith was a faith in this country and our Government. The Communist cadre dragged out every inequality, injustice, every example of discrimination and racism, all conceivable ills within the structure of our Government ... "
In 1967 (that's four years after Mr. Rowe was captured), they ceased drawing from their own poor propaganda sources and we began receiving material from our own magazines and newspapers, which were quoted verbatim to substantiate points they were driving home to us. It was no longer a matter of manufacturing propaganda: They had only to scan our publications, find a prominent American who had said what he wanted to us and hit us with it.
"I questioned as never before: Was this country and Government worth what I was going through?
"The answer was clear. This country and our system of Government is the finest in the world today. With all the problems and injustices which could be pointed out, we have the one element that makes us strong. The citizens of this Nation have inherent rights and freedoms which allow them full participation in the system politic.
"The final faith upon which I relied," Mr. Rowe concludes, "was faith in my fellow prisoners, my brothers in suffering ...
"I came home having learned lessons that could have been taught in no other way. Our system is not guaranteed forever. It must be fought for and participated in or it will fail."
I would suggest those are pretty fine sentiments from a man who just took a licking running for comptroller of Texas, U.S.A.
Your generation comes to the tasks of the future with eyes wide open – you have the lessons about false national pride and how even good men can be corrupted by a bad war ... the lessons about self-discipline, thrift and conservation of resources we are learning from the energy crisis and the economic crisis and the lessons about the value of truth and honor and decency and respect for venerable institutions taught by the abuses of Watergate.
The other day Mrs. Muskie and I received a warm, wonderful letter from one of our teenage daughters. Let me share some of it with you:
"This year and next are the years I should be, in dad's words: 'Exploring my beliefs, dissecting the reasoning behind them, challenging them in my mind – not in order to weaken them, but in order to make sure that they are strong enough to support me and that I am strong enough to keep them.
"I've always listened to everything both of you have had to say. You may not have thought so at the time, dad, but all those lectures at the supper table did sink into my head. Even at the time I appreciated them. Most parents don't take the time to talk to their kids. They just say, 'No.'
"I've gone through so much this year it seems unbelievable. I know one thing though. I'd never want to change anything I've done – even the bad. Bad things are always bound to happen.
"I wouldn't want my life to be perfect. If my life was perfect I wouldn't have any growing to do and growing is a part of life.
"My life can become very meaningful if I try. The initiative has to come from me, though. I realize that now and believe me I'm going to try to have a lifetime full of excitement and wonder. I've always wanted to pattern my life after both of yours, but I know that I'm different from either of you and my life is apt to be a whole lot different."
You young people are an enormously exciting national resource.
You are different in many ways and many of the differences are healthy ones.
You have different values – and many of those values will be good for the country.
And you are pushing for changes which we too often resent and resist to the point of alienating our children.
And that is the wrong way – because we have much to give you. And you have much to give us.
I say to my generation:
"Let us welcome those differences and perhaps they will bring us the kind of world we all want."