Category THE RACE

X ublic life was not the first choice among possible futures for John F. Kennedy as he returned from World War II. Kennedy in principle could have chosen among many career paths. Kennedy’s own inclination seems to have leaned in the direction of becoming a journalist, a writer of nonfic­tion books, or even an academic. Kennedy’s father, Joseph, however, was determined that his sons not enter the business world; he had amassed suf­ficient wealth to allow his sons to choose a future that did not have to lead to significant additional income. The reality was that if Kennedy had chosen a career other than politics, it would have meant going against the wishes of his strong-willed father. John Kennedy, from the time his older brother, Joseph Jr., was killed in action during World War II, became his father’s designated aspirant to high political office; JFK’s father, after the end of the war, planned to build “the greatest political dynasty of the age. . . one remaining son at a time.” Kennedy was easily elected to the U. S. House of Representatives in 1948 and to the Senate in 1952 and again in 1958. But his time in Congress was not fulfilling for either his or his father’s ambi­tions. During his fourteen years in Congress, Kennedy “failed to penetrate the inner circle.” The conservative Southern senators who controlled the Senate, in particular, “viewed him as too detached, independent, overrated, and overly ambitious.” Beginning in 1956, when he was almost selected as Adlai Stevenson’s vice presidential running mate, Kennedy set his eyes on being elected president of the United States in November 1960. As he pur­sued that objective, the candidate was described by one acute observer as a “charming, handsome, rich, young aristocrat.”1

In his years as a senator, Kennedy said little about space issues except in the context of the linkage between space launch vehicles and strategic mis­sile capabilities. That changed once he became the Democratic nominee for president in July 1960. The growing disparity in global prestige between the United States and the Soviet Union under the Eisenhower administration became a central theme of JFK’s campaign, and the fact that the United

States was trailing the Soviet Union in space achievement was frequently cited by Kennedy as very visible evidence of this disparity. Kennedy offered no specific views on future space activities during the campaign, however, and once he was declared the president-elect, he spent little time on space issues prior to his inauguration. This meant that Kennedy’s personal views and interests with respect to space, as differentiated from his campaign rhet­oric, remained largely unknown as he entered the White House.

In his final weeks in office, NASA administrator Keith Glennan grew increasingly distressed by the lack of any contact from the incoming Kennedy administration. Shortly after the election, Glennan spoke briefly with Jerome Wiesner. He tried to probe Wiesner regarding the schedule for naming the new NASA administrator, but Wiesner only asked whether Glennan was willing to stay on in the job, to which Glennan replied in the negative. By January 3, Glennan noted in his diary that “never in my life have I seemed so frustrated in attempting to bring an important job to a conclusion.” He bemoaned that NASA had “been in a state of suspended animation since the election” and that “not one single word or hint of action has been forthcom­ing from the Kennedy administration.”63

On January 9, the impatient Glennan called vice president-elect Lyndon Johnson. Glennan told Johnson that he “felt a heavy responsibility in the matter of turning over my job to my successor” and that he “was ready to help in any way desired.” He added that he had heard that finding a new NASA administrator was proving difficult, and offered “to help in the pro­cess.” Glennan noted that this was “his first contact with the new adminis­tration, and that he had to initiate it.” He reported that Johnson replied to his call by thanking him lavishly for his helpful attitude and then saying “as soon as I have something to tell or discuss with you, I will call you!”64 Such a call never came.

On January 17, with still no word from the incoming administration, Glennan called the White House to alert the staff there that no senior person at NASA had been asked to stay on, and that Hugh Dryden had expressed his willingness to serve as acting administrator during the change in admin­istrations. An hour later, he was told that Clark Clifford, who was handling personnel appointments for president-elect Kennedy, had indicated to the White House that the new administration did indeed want Dryden to stay on.65 There still was no direct contact between NASA and the Kennedy team.

Glennan’s last day at NASA was January 19, 1961. After sherry with a few of his staff, Glennan left NASA for the final time, intending to begin the drive back to his home in Cleveland that evening. However, Washington was paralyzed by a blizzard, and it was not until 6:30 a. m. on January 20, the day of the Kennedy’s inauguration, that he was able to leave. As he drove west and listened to the inauguration ceremonies on his car radio, Keith Glennan reflected on “some 29 months of interesting, exciting, baffling, and, at times, frustrating work in Washington.” His somewhat melancholy last entry into the diary of his time in Washington was: “And still—no word from the Kennedy administration!”66

Neither Keith Glennan nor anyone else connected with the nation’s civil­ian space program could have anticipated the dramatic changes in the nation’s space policy that would emerge over the next few months.

In the weeks after his inauguration, President Kennedy spent very little time in formal consideration of space issues. On February 13, he sent Soviet pre­mier Nikita Khrushchev a congratulatory note on the launch of a Russian mission to Venus on the preceding day. (After returning data during its interplanetary cruise, the Venera 1 mission ultimately was a failure in achiev­ing its primary objective of returning data from Venus.) Later that same day, Kennedy met with Overton Brooks, chairman of the House Committee on Science and Astronautics, who told Kennedy that “NASA and the civilian space program badly need a shot in the arm.” Brooks said that Congress, or at least his committee, “cannot impress upon the Executive too strongly the need for urgency” in the space program, for “if we do not recognize it, we may falter badly in both our domestic and international relationships.”15 Science adviser Wiesner at some point after the Russian Venus launch discussed with the president the implications of the launch and “our relative positions in the general fields of space exploration and science.” The launch had raised security concerns because specialists at the Central Intelligence Agency had suggested that it could be “a step towards creating a capability for achieving a parking orbit with an ICBM warhead”; the spacecraft had in fact gone into orbit around the Earth before ejecting a large probe on a Venus-bound trajectory. The sample questions and answers used in preparing Kennedy for a February 15 press conference suggested that, if asked about the military significance of the launch, he reply that “there is no indication that the Soviet Union plans to use their ability to orbit large payloads to develop any kind of bombardment systems.” Such a system would be “inef­ficient” and would likely “be objected to by all the nations of the world.”16 In a follow-up memorandum to his discussion with the president, Wiesner noted that “the most significant factor, as we have said many times, is that the Soviets have developed a rocket as part of their ballistic missile program with considerably more thrust or lifting power than anything we have avail­able.” He noted that “one of the things we must realize is that in dramatizing the space race we are playing into the Soviet’s strongest suit. They are using this accomplishment at home and around the world to prove the superiority of Soviet science and technology.” Wiesner told the president that the United States “was superior in most fields to Soviet science” and that “in almost any other area in which we would elect to compete, food, housing, recreation, medical research, basic technological competence, general consumer good production, etc., they would look very bad.” He suggested that “we should attempt to point this out rather than assist them by an official. . . reaction that supports their propaganda.”17 Subsequent actions by President Kennedy demonstrated that he did not accept this advice.

With the success of Alan Shepard’s flight on May 5, the momentum toward a dramatic acceleration of the American space effort, with its focal point being a “space program which promises dramatic results in which we could win,” was becoming unstoppable. Vice President Johnson’s consultations over the prior two weeks had revealed almost unanimous support for such an initiative. But before President Kennedy could announce his intent to enter and win the space race, the generalized support had to be turned into specific program recommendations with an accompanying political rationale and budget esti­mates. Kennedy on April 20 had asked for the conclusions of the vice presi­dent’s review “at the earliest possible moment.” With the vice president leaving Washington on May 8 for almost two weeks, that meant a busy weekend for those charged with putting the results of LBJ’s consultations into a form for Johnson to submit with his recommendation for presidential approval.

Wiesner in his memorandum to Sorensen noted that “the major decisions have not been announced as to what extent rendezvous will be employed, what Advanced Saturn vehicle will be built (probably C-4), and what will be the characteristics of the so-called Nova that could put man on the Moon by direct ascent. The relative emphasis of rendezvous versus direct ascent is a key to the entire program.”

There were two reasons for the delay in selecting the launch vehicle for the lunar mission. One was that the “national space plan” called for in the May 8 Webb-McNamara memorandum had anticipated a collaborative NASA-DOD effort to define a family of launch vehicles that could meet both agencies’ requirements and advance the development of both liquid fuel and solid fuel propulsion systems. The focus of this planning effort was a “NASA-DOD Large Launch Vehicle Planning Group.” The group was directed by Nicholas Golovin, then with NASA; its deputy director was Lawrence Kavanaugh of DOD. The group started work in July 1961, and by the fall had become bogged down in very detailed studies and deadlocked over the relative roles of liquid-fueled and solid-fueled boosters in the lunar landing program. Rather than come up with an integrated plan, the group had suggested a new Air Force-developed launch vehicle, called Titan III, with lift capabilities closely resembling the Saturn 1 vehicle that NASA was developing. The group’s final recommendations attempted to satisfy both NASA and DOD, and ended up pleasing neither agency.23

The second reason for the delay in selecting a launch vehicle for the lunar mission was NASA’s difficulties during the May-November period in decid­ing its preferred approach to sending men to the Moon.24 Indeed, this uncer­tainty would continue well into 1962 and become a focus of NASA-White House controversy.

Beginning on May 2, even before a final decision on whether to approve a lunar landing effort had been made, there were a series of NASA stud­ies examining alternatives for accomplishing the lunar mission. The first of these studies took as its starting point a “direct ascent” approach, in which the spacecraft for the lunar mission would be launched by a giant booster with eight F-1 engines in its first stage. The spacecraft would fly directly to the Moon and land intact on the lunar surface. A portion of the spacecraft would then take off from the Moon after the astronauts had completed their exploration, and return directly to Earth. This approach meant designing a seventy-five-ton spacecraft, almost forty times the weight of the Mercury cap­sule, that would “back down” to a lunar landing, using rocket firings to slow the craft to landing speed; during the landing, the astronauts would be on their backs at the other end of the craft, more than eighty feet above the sur­face and with no or very limited direct visibility of the landing site. The direct ascent approach also required that the fuel for the return journey and the heat shield needed for reentry into the Earth’s atmosphere, both of which were heavy, would have to be carried to and then launched from the lunar surface. All of this would require a large and heavy spacecraft, and thus a very power­ful booster NASA called Nova to send it to the Moon in a single launch. The more NASA, and especially von Braun and his team at Huntsville, thought about the technological leap required to develop the gigantic Nova vehicle, the more it looked for alternatives to making such a jump.

NASA during the summer of 1961 began to look harder at an approach called Earth-orbit rendezvous (EOR). This approach would allow the lunar spacecraft and the rocket stage needed to send it toward the Moon to be divided into two or more pieces, each piece launched separately. One or more rendezvous in Earth orbit would then be needed to assemble the pieces into a single spacecraft. An alternative EOR approach was to send the complete spacecraft and its Earth departure stage fueled with light liquid hydrogen into Earth orbit with one launch. Then a second launch would carry into orbit the comparatively heavy liquid oxygen used as the oxidizer for burn­ing the hydrogen fuel; the oxygen would then be transferred to the lunar – bound rocket stage. Using an EOR approach meant that a launch vehicle significantly smaller than the Nova could be developed for the lunar mission. However, it did not solve the problem of how to land a single large spacecraft on the lunar surface.

Several versions of a smaller launch vehicle were proposed during the 1961 studies. The Saturn C-2 that had been part of NASA’s plans in the spring was soon abandoned, and an “Advanced Saturn” with several powerful F-1 engines in its first stage became the focus of attention; the issue was how many of the large engines to use. The two-engine version became known as the Saturn C-3 and the four-engine version the C-4. This was the vehicle Wiesner mentioned in his November 20 memorandum to Sorensen.25

When he wrote that memorandum, Wiesner was apparently not aware of the latest NASA study of the launch vehicle issue. On November 6, Milton Rosen of NASA headquarters, reflecting the deadlock in the Golovin – Kavanau group, had organized a separate two-week study to recommend to the NASA leadership “a large launch vehicle program” which would “meet the requirements of manned space flight” and “have broad and continuing national utility.” Rosen reported that “to exploit the possibility of accom­plishing the first lunar landing by rendezvous,” NASA should develop an “intermediate vehicle” that had five F-1 engines in the first stage, four or five J-2 engines in its second stage, and one J-2 in its third stage. (The J-2 was an engine powered by high-energy liquid hydrogen fuel that would have the capability to be stopped and restarted.) The four-engine Saturn C-4 had a “hole” in the center of its four first-stage F-1 engines; adding a fifth F-1 would thus be relatively straightforward. Rosen argued that NASA should build the most powerful rocket possible short of a Nova, and von Braun agreed that “the hole in the center was crying out for another engine.” Adding a fifth engine would increase first stage thrust at liftoff to 7.5 million pounds. Since a direct flight to the Moon was at this point still NASA’s officially stated preference for the lunar landing mission, Rosen also recommended that “a NOVA vehicle consisting of an eight F-1 first stage” should be developed on a “top priority basis.” He added that “large solid rockets should not be considered as a requirement for manned lunar landing.” The recommendation for a five-engine first stage for the launch vehicle, soon called the Advanced Saturn C-5 and ultimately the Saturn V, was quickly accepted by the NASA leadership. Within a few weeks, some form of rendezvous using the Saturn V replaced direct ascent as NASA’s preferred approach to getting to the Moon, although design work on the Nova vehicle continued for some months.26

Wiesner likely also was not aware of a November 6 meeting between the NASA and Department of Defense space leadership at which there was agreement to “cancel the development of very large (240” class) solid rocket as a backup for NOVA,” since “the work of the past six months shows that the reliability and potential of NOVA will be sufficient to make unnecessary the parallel development of the large solids on identical time scales,” as had been called for in the May 8 Webb-McNamara memorandum.27 Overall, the situation with respect to a launch vehicle for Apollo was not in as bad a shape as the Wiesner memorandum suggested; however, Wiesner was correct in his assessment that “the relative emphasis of rendezvous versus direct ascent is a key to the entire program.”

On February 20, 1962, U. S. astronaut John Glenn completed the first U. S. orbital space flight. Among the congratulations for the success received at the White House was a February 21 telegram from Nikita Khrushchev. In the message, Khrushchev suggested that “if our countries pooled their efforts—scientific, technical and material—to master the universe, this would be very beneficial for the advance of science and would be joyfully acclaimed by all peoples who would like to see scientific achievements ben­efit man and not be used for ‘Cold War’ purposes and the arms race.”34 What was surprising in this message was that Khrushchev did not link the possibility of space cooperation to prior agreement on steps toward disar-

35

mament.

The White House lost no time in its reply, since it appeared to provide the opening that President Kennedy had been seeking since his first days in office. On the next day, Kennedy sent a replying telegram to Khrushchev, saying “I welcome your statement that our countries should cooperate in the exploration of space. I have long held this belief and indeed put it forth strongly in my first State of the Union message.” Kennedy added: “I am instructing the appropriate officers of this Government to prepare new and concrete proposals for immediate projects of common action, and I hope that at a very early date our representatives may meet to discuss our ideas and yours in a spirit of practical cooperation.”36

On February 23, McGeorge Bundy issued a National Security Action Memorandum (NSAM) to the secretary of state, directing him to cooperate with the NASA administrator and the special assistant to the president for science and technology to “promptly develop” the new proposals called for in the president’s telegram, “together with recommendations as to the best way of opening discussion with Soviet representatives on these matters.” On February 27, Bundy sent out a revised memorandum, adding the executive secretary of the National Aeronautics and Space Council to the list of those being asked to develop the cooperative proposals.37 (There were continu­ing tensions over roles and responsibilities between Wiesner’s science office, which reported directly to the president, and the Space Council, which reported to the vice president. Leaving mention of the Space Council out of the original draft of the National Security Action Memorandum could have been either inadvertent or intentional; it does suggest that Vice President Johnson and the Space Council were not seen as central to international space issues.) On February 23, Bundy also sent a separate memorandum to NASA administrator Webb, explaining that while the NSAM had been addressed to the secretary of state because it involved international negotia­tions, President Kennedy “wants you to know how much he understands the central role of your organization in this problem.” Moreover, said Bundy, the president had asked him to add a “private word.” Kennedy recognized “that there are lots of problems in this kind of cooperation, and he knows that you have a great head of steam in projects which we do not want to see interrupted or slowed down.” However, “there is real political advantage for us if we can make clear that we are forthcoming and energetic in plans for peaceful cooperation with the Soviets in this sphere. It is even conceivable that progress on this front would have an automatic dampening effect on the Berlin crisis.” For these reasons, suggested Bundy, “the President hopes that you will urge your people to go a little out of their way to find good projects.”38

The process of drafting a letter for the president to send to Khrushchev revealed some significant differences in perspective among NASA, the Department of State, and the White House science office. According to Eugene Skolnikoff, who at the time was on Wiesner’s White House staff handling international issues, NASA proposed to include only those proj­ects that it judged both technically and politically desirable, and tended to emphasize information exchanges rather than more extensive and intimate cooperation. This was consistent with the approach that had been developed several years earlier by Hugh Dryden and NASA’s international affairs head, Arnold Frutkin. NASA argued that any cooperative undertaking must have meaningful substantive merit as a necessary condition, and not be under­taken primarily for political reasons.

Only through the intervention of the White House science office was a broader range of potential projects added to the draft list of proposals. Then the State Department watered down the list, favoring the NASA approach. Jerome Wiesner was, together with President Kennedy, interested in coop­erative undertakings that might produce substantial political benefits, even if their technical contributions were relatively minimal. Wiesner and his staff were often at odds with NASA over the space agency’s conservative approach to space cooperation.39

On March 6, Secretary of State Dean Rusk forwarded to the president a draft letter for Chairman Khrushchev that contained “a range of specific proposals. . . in a manner designed to facilitate a positive Soviet response.” The letter reflected the State Department concern that the potential contributions of other nations be recognized, but it did not link any potential bilateral discussions to the upcoming initial meeting of the UN Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space, which was scheduled for later in March, saying only that the results of the bilateral talks would be reported to the Committee. Rusk told Kennedy, “if you approve this proposed letter, we would plan to deliver it promptly. . . without publicity for a sufficient period of time to allow for a serious Soviet reply. We would, however, inform a few interested countries confidentially of this action.”40

Kennedy approved the letter; it was sent to Nikita Khrushchev on March 7. It first listed some relatively modest proposals for specific areas of coopera­tion, including a joint weather satellite system, cooperation in space tracking, research on the Earth’s magnetic field, satellite communications experiments, and space medicine. There was no mention of specific cooperation in human flights to the Moon or even in Earth orbit.41 However, Kennedy noted in the letter that “beyond these specific projects we are prepared now to dis­cuss broader cooperation in the still more challenging projects which must be undertaken in the exploration of outer space.” Observing that “leaders of the United States space program have developed detailed plans for an orderly sequence of manned and unmanned flights for the exploration of space and the planets,” the president suggested that “out of discussion of these plans, and of your own, for undertaking the tasks of this decade would undoubt­edly emerge possibilities for substantive scientific and technical cooperation in manned and unmanned space investigations.”42

Khrushchev replied to Kennedy’s letter on March 20. He noted “with satisfaction” that his proposal “that our two countries unite their efforts in the conquest of space has met with the necessary understanding on the part of the Government of the United States.” He found that Kennedy’s mes­sage showed “that the direction of your thoughts does not differ in essence from what we conceive to be practical measures in the field of such coop­eration,” and asked “what then should be our starting point?” He reacted favorably to most of the U. S. proposals contained in Kennedy’s letter, and added to the list of areas for possible cooperation joint robotic exploration of the Moon and the planets, search and rescue of re-entered satellites, espe­cially spacecraft with people on board, and various legal problems associated with space activity. Like Kennedy, Khrushchev agreed that “in the future, international cooperation in the conquest of space will undoubtedly extend to even newer fields of space exploration if we can now lay a firm foundation for it.” Khrushchev also noted, reinjecting the longstanding Soviet position into the interchange, “it appears obvious to me that the scale of our coop­eration in the peaceful conquest of space, as well as the choice of lines along which such cooperation would seem possible is to a certain extent related to the solution of the disarmament problem. . . Considerably broader prospects for cooperation and uniting our scientific-technical achievements, up to and including joint construction of spacecraft for reaching other planets—the moon, Venus, Mars—will arise when agreement on disarmament has been achieved.” Khrushchev agreed to an early start in discussions on coopera­tion, saying that “representatives of the USSR on the UN Space Committee will be given instructions to meet with representatives of the United States in order to discuss concrete questions of cooperation.”43

With this exchange of letters, the logjam in getting started on U. S.-Soviet discussions on space cooperation had been broken. On March 27-30, 1962, toward the end of the first meeting of the Committee on the Peaceful Uses of Outer Space, there was an initial round of discussions between a U. S. del­egation led by NASA deputy administrator Dryden and a Soviet delegation led by academician Anatoly Blagonravov. The State Department guidance for this first round of talks was “to make clear the genuine U. S. interest in cooperation” and “to explore the Soviet attitude toward cooperation.” Dryden was instructed to “make it clear we are willing to take concrete, practical first steps in order to get started despite the problems of secrecy which particularly troubles the Soviet side.”44 The talks were to be “private with no publicity other than to acknowledge that exploratory talks had been held and would continue”; U. S. allies and other interested parties would be “informed confidentially” about the nature of the talks. Although Dryden was a senior official of NASA and thus intimately knowledgeable about U. S. space policy and programs, Blagonravov as a member of the Soviet Academy of Sciences was several steps removed from a similar position of influence and knowledge in the Soviet Union. Even after President Kennedy had des­ignated Dryden as the head of the U. S. delegation, McGeorge Bundy had raised the possibility of identifying as the lead negotiator for future discus­sions a more publicly known figure, “with good standing in the Congress,” so that “there would be confidence that the United States is not giving any­thing away, but at the same time taking a positive approach.”45 When the initial discussions, which were characterized as “amicable but inconclusive,” suggested that no high-profile cooperative agreement was in the offing, this idea was abandoned, and Dryden was designated as the U. S. lead in subse­quent negotiations.

While these initial meetings were in general free of cold war propaganda, on March 28 Blagonravov stated that prior to his departure from Moscow he had been instructed by his government “to convey a message from Soviet scientists to the effect that they would welcome a joint statement by US and USSR scientists restricting outer space to peaceful purposes and condemning the use of ‘spy-in-the-sky’ satellites.” The freedom to operate reconnaissance satellites was a very high priority for President Kennedy, and Dryden quickly told Blagonravov that such a suggestion was a “legal and political question” and thus not within the scope of the current discussions. The talks identified several areas of mutual interest for further negotiations, and the delegations agreed to meet again in one or two months.46

At an April 20 senior-level meeting chaired by under secretary of state George McGhee to review the U. S.-Soviet interactions, Dryden noted that the “Soviets clearly prefer that cooperative arrangements with the US be developed and implemented on a step-by-step basis” and that “at the moment it appears unlikely that any significant measure of joint effort in outer space activities will develop.” Both NASA administrator Webb and Space Council executive secretary Welsh agreed that such a step-by-step approach was pref­erable; Wiesner also thought that this would probably have to be the way to proceed, even though, reflecting the president’s priorities, he would have preferred more substantial cooperative engagements. In preparing Under Secretary McGhee for the meeting, Philip Farley suggested that “in view of the past interest of the White House in a possible major political negotia­tion with the Soviet Union for outer space cooperation, if the step by step approach is agreed to be the most feasible one,” it would be desirable “to obtain the President’s concurrence.”47

To obtain that agreement, Secretary of State Dean Rusk wrote the presi­dent on May 15, reporting that the president’s senior advisers on space had agreed “that the present low-key, step-by-step approach through informal talks by scientific representatives holds the most promise of breaking through Soviet reservations and initiating cooperation.” He added that “for the time being we do not think it necessary or wise to set a specific deadline by which these talks should be completed successfully or terminated.”48 In another meeting with Under Secretary McGhee on May 18, Dryden was told that President Kennedy was not interested in propaganda payoffs but rather “he had in mind real cooperation,” and that Kennedy “was anxious to go just as far as the Soviets could go.”49

From May 30 to June 8, 1962, there was a second round of meetings, this time in Geneva, between a U. S. delegation, once again headed by Dryden, and a Soviet delegation, once again headed by Blagonravov. These negotia­tions led to a June 8 agreement to cooperate in three areas: (1) the exchange of weather data from satellites and the eventual coordinated launching of meteorological satellites; (2) a joint effort to map the geomagnetic field of the Earth; and (3) cooperation in the experimental relay of communications.

Under secretary of state George Ball wrote the president on July 5 to inform him of the results of these discussions and to propose a future course of action. Ball told Kennedy that the agreements reached in Geneva “repre­sent a sound way of proceeding so long as they are adhered to by the Soviet Government and are developed in such a way as not to foster an impres­sion abroad that they represent a more significant step toward US-Soviet cooperation than they actually do or that US-USSR cooperation will in any way preempt the cooperation already being developed with other countries.”

Ball’s memorandum set out seven next steps in the cooperative process; these steps had emerged from a recent interagency meeting similar to that follow­ing the March talks.50

Bundy responded to the Ball memorandum on July 18, saying that “the President concurs in the general approach described in the report.” In his cover memorandum obtaining the president’s concurrence, Bundy noted that “I know that you [Kennedy] have been concerned lest Dryden make agreements that might come under political attack. I believe that these three projects are quite safe. They have been reviewed with a beady eye by CIA [Central Intelligence Agency] and Defense, and they have been reported in detail to determined and watchful Congressmen like Tiger Teague, with no criticism.” In these projects, Bundy suggested, “we get as much as we give” and “neither our advanced techniques nor our cognate reconnaissance capa­bilities will be compromised.”51

Thus a modest start had been made in U. S.-Soviet space cooperation. The three initial areas for cooperation were quite limited in comparison with both the hopes of early 1961 and President Kennedy’s June 1961 suggestion to Nikita Khrushchev of cooperation in going to the Moon. But, as Donald Hornig, Princeton chemist and chair of the space panel of the President’s Scientific Advisory Committee (and later science adviser to President Lyndon Johnson), who had been a member of the U. S. delegation to the Geneva talks, observed to Wiesner: “I believe about as much was achieved as was possible at this time. The USSR representatives were apparently anxious to conclude an agreement” but “were extremely cautious,” suggesting that “we must take little steps before we can take bigger ones.”52

This incremental approach, favored by NASA and the State Department, was not sufficient for President Kennedy. As 1963 unfolded, he once again sought Soviet cooperation in going to the Moon.

This growing and broadly based criticism of the lunar landing program con­cerned President Kennedy. At an April 19 meeting with newspaper editors, he noted with some irritation that “the space program. . . is now under some attack. It seems to me that this indicates a certain restlessness. This program passed unanimously last year. Now suddenly we shouldn’t carry out the space program, and then maybe 6 months from now, when there is some extraordinary action in space which threatens our position, everybody will say, ‘Why didn’t we do more?’ ”6

The White House behind the scenes was developing its response to the criticisms of Apollo. On April 5, the day of Reston’s column in the Times., Kennedy’s national security adviser McGeorge Bundy, who had assumed a lead policy role on the space program within Kennedy’s inner circle of advis­ers, told NASA administrator Webb that “the President would like to have an appraisal of the basic changes and modifications that we have made in the space program since this Administration came in, so that he will be fully equipped to defend our current position against what looks like an emerg­ing attack.” Bundy added that “what the President would like particularly to have is an account of the deficiencies of the space program as it was, and was projected, under the outgoing Administration. What would we have failed to do, and what are we now going to be able to do that could not have been done on the Eisenhower basis.” Bundy asked for a “careful and complete answer” to the president’s questions, but also gave Webb only two weeks to develop that answer.7

Kennedy soon also decided to use the Space Council to coordinate the process of developing the defense of his space program. In an April 9 memo­randum to Vice President Johnson, Kennedy noted that “in view of recent discussions, I feel the need to obtain a clearer understanding of a number of factual and policy issues relating to the National Space Program.” The president asked Johnson to lead a Space Council effort to develop responses to five questions:

1. What are the salient differences. . . between the NASA program projected on January 1, 1961 for the years 1962 through 1970, and the NASA program as redefined by the present Administration?

2. What specifically are the principal benefits to the national economy we can expect to accrue from the present, greatly augmented program in the following areas: scientific knowledge; industrial productivity; education, at various levels beginning with high school; and military technology?

3. What are some of the major problems likely to result from continuation of the national space program as now projected in the fields of industry, government, and education?

4. To what extent could the program be reduced, beginning with FY1964, in areas not directly affecting the Apollo program (and therefore not compromising the timetable for the first manned lunar landing)?

5. Are we taking sufficient measures to insure the maximum degree of coordination and cooperation between NASA and the Defense Department?8

The Space Council’s Edward Welsh led the process of getting inputs from the council’s member agencies. He received brief papers from staff officials at the Atomic Energy Commission (AEC) and the Department of State, a one – page letter with supporting material from Jerome Wiesner, and a seven-page response from Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara. NASA’s James Webb first sent a four-page cover letter with a sixty-three page attachment; this was later reduced to a seventeen-page memo signed by Webb; it still had ten pages of attachments. Webb was as verbose in his written communications as when he spoke.

The AEC response discussed only the organization’s efforts to develop nuclear power sources for space uses. The State Department’s somewhat skeptical response noted that “from the viewpoint of U. S. foreign policy objectives generally, it seems quite likely that several adverse effects may develop because of the increasingly large percentage of our space effort to be devoted to the GEMINI and APOLLO programs.” This was because “our program will increasingly accentuate, rather than mitigate, the gap between ourselves and other countries in space and space related activities.” Another concern was “the inevitable merging of national security requirements and scientific requirements in the conduct of our program,” which would make the United States “increasingly the object of skepticism on the part of the neutralist or non-allied countries with respect to the ‘peaceful’ or ‘beneficial’ objectives and character of our program.” The State Department cautioned against reductions in the nonhuman space flight parts of NASA’s activities, saying that such a reduction “would be particularly harmful, if it were to result in a retrenchment in our extant commitments or stated objectives with respect to cooperation in space activities with other countries.”9

Wiesner commented that “it is my feeling that the NASA-DOD rela­tionship should be substantially improved.” In his submission, Secretary of Defense McNamara identified “$600-675 million of the NASA effort which appears to have direct or indirect value for military technology.” Of that amount, “about $275-$350 million stems from the augmentation of NASA programs since January 1961.” Agreeing with Jerome Weisner, McNamara told the vice president that “I am not satisfied, and I am sure that Mr. Webb is not satisfied, that we have gone far enough to eliminate all problems of duplication and waste in administration.” McNamara suggested that the coordination problem was of “sufficient importance” that it required atten­tion at the White House level. In a suggestion sure not to be welcomed by the vice president and his Space Council staff, he suggested that responsibil­ity for monitoring coordination between NASA and DOD “be assigned to the Bureau of the Budget and to the Director of the Office of Science and Technology.”10

NASA on May 3 not only provided to the vice president copious material responding to the president’s five questions; it also submitted a draft reply to those questions. In a May 10 memorandum that “refines and reduces, in volume,” the information provided on May 3, Webb suggested that “there is little evidence to indicate that significant national problems are likely to be made critical or require radical solutions as a result of the continuation of the space program.” In particular, Webb argued, NASA demand for sci­entific and engineering personnel to carry out its program would rise only from 3 to 6 percent of total national requirements, and this increase would not unduly divert needed technical personnel from other national programs. Webb suggested that “cooperation between NASA and the DOD is good,” but noted “areas for further improvement,” including “greater participation by the DOD in NASA projects.”11

A “principals only” meeting of the Space Council was held on the after­noon of May 7 to review and approve the vice president’s report to the presi­dent. Welsh read the president’s questions and Lyndon Johnson, reading from a seven-page draft prepared by the Space Council staff, indicated the intended replies. The draft was kept purposely relatively short compared to the inputs from the Space Council member agencies; Welsh had been reminded by the vice president that “the president does not like a lot of ‘verbiage’ ” and that the responses to Kennedy’s questions should be kept “as short and simple as possible.” A few revisions and additions to the draft reply were made “after careful consideration and discussion,” and the report was approved; Council members initialed the vice president’s original typed copy of the reply “based on the premise that agreed upon changes would be made.”12

Johnson delivered the Space Council’s report to President Kennedy on May 13; it painted the overall situation in very positive terms. The report esti­mated that the augmented space program would require approximately $30 billion more in the FY1961 to FY1970 period than had been planned as the Eisenhower administration left office ($48.086 billion rather than $17.917 billion). It noted that the “basic difference between the two programs is that the plan of the previous Administration represented an effort for a second place runner and the program of the present Administration is designed to make this country the assured leader before the end of the decade.” With respect to the impacts of the additional space spending, the report suggested that “the ‘multiplier’ of space research and development will augment our economic strength, our peaceful posture, and our standard of living.” It noted that “the introduction of a vital new element into an economy always creates new problems but, otherwise, the nation’s space program creates no major complications” and that “despite claims to the contrary, there is no solid evidence that research and development in industry is suffering significantly from a diversion of technical manpower to the space program.” Reducing the portion of the NASA program not related to the lunar landing would “lessen the quantity and quality of benefits to the economy” and “give additional ammunition to those who criticize the major funding weight given to the lunar program on the grounds that it diverts money from other programs.” With respect to NASA-DOD coordination, the report suggested that “it is inevitable that controversies will continue to arise in any field as new, as wide – ranging, and as technically complicated as space.”

The Space Council report concluded:

There is one further point to be borne in mind. The space program is not

solely a question of prestige, of advancing scientific knowledge, of economic

benefit or of military development. . . A much more fundamental issue is at stake—whether a dimension that well can dominate history for the next few centuries will be devoted to the social system of freedom or controlled by the social system of communism.

We cannot close our eyes to what would happen if we permitted totalitarian systems to dominate the environment of earth itself. For this reason our space program has an overriding urgency that cannot be calculated solely in terms of industrial, scientific, or military development. The future of society is at stake.13

The Space Council report was received with some degree of skepticism by the White House staff. Wiesner discussed it with President Kennedy on May 16, telling him that “the impact of the NASA program on the nation’s supply of scientists and engineers is much greater” than that indicated in the report. While NASA might require the services of only 7 percent of the total supply of U. S. scientists and engineers, it would utilize up to 30 percent of those involved in research and development, he suggested. Wiesner also noted that the report unduly minimized “current management and other differences between NASA and Defense and does not reflect the concerns and views expressed by the Secretary of Defense in his letter to the Vice President.” He also pointed out that the report ignored Secretary McNamara’s sugges­tion that “the responsibility for monitoring NASA-Defense problems in the space area be assigned to the Bureau of the Budget and to the Director of the Office of Science and Technology.”14

The Bureau of the Budget (BOB) noted that “the statement of the ‘ben­efits’ to the national economy from the space program has the unintended effect of showing, probably accurately, how slight and intangible such benefits have been and are likely to be in the future.” Also, “the question of whether the space program is having detrimental effects on the supply or activities of scientific and technical manpower is still not clearly answered either way.” The BOB suggested that while “the report does gloss over current problems and differences between the Department of Defense and NASA,” because “the issues involved are either petty or very complex. . . we would see no use­ful purpose in presenting any of them to the President at this time.” Finally, BOB suggested that “while the point might be overstated” in the conclud­ing paragraphs of the report, “we are inclined to agree with the conclusion that the fundamental justification at this time for a large-scale space pro­gram lies. . . in the fundamental unacceptability of a situation in which the Russians continue space activities on a large scale and we do not.”15

The individual on McGeorge Bundy’s staff with primary responsibility for tracking space issues was Charles E. Johnson. When Bundy received a copy of the Space Council report, he asked Johnson “do you think well of this?” Johnson replied to Bundy that while the “purple prose” in the report’s conclusion left him “quite unimpressed,” his primary concern was that the report might be released as a public statement of the administra­tion’s position on the space program. He saw “no need or urgency for such a statement,” believing that public debate could go on “without getting the

President more firmly signed on to a hard position with respect to the space program.” He suggested that “the ‘Cold War’ aspects should not be magni­fied,” since “there is already too much religion in the space program.” The NSC staffer suggested that “the Administration’s ability to maneuver should be retained so we can adjust to developments.” He added, in what turned out to be a perceptive comment, that “it is possible that the Soviets may not be engaging in a race (the intelligence is not conclusive) or may wish to join in a cooperative space program as an alternative to an expensive national program that strains their economy.”16

Although President Kennedy requested that an unclassified version of the Space Council report be prepared, it was not publicly released or referred to in the continuing debate over space priorities. While Kennedy himself remained publicly committed to proceeding with the accelerated space pro­gram he had endorsed in May 1961, the questioning of the program’s values and implementation by his senior staff suggested not only that was there a public debate over the proper goals and pace of the space program, but also that a similar debate was beginning to take place inside the top levels of the Kennedy administration.

Indeed, it may be the symbolic character of America’s voyages to the Moon that is the most important heritage of the Apollo program. Certainly the image of the Earth rising over the barren lunar surface taken by Apollo 8 astronaut Bill Anders on Christmas Eve 1968 and of Apollo 11’s Buzz Aldrin standing next to the American flag at “Tranquility Base” have become iconic, communicating to subsequent generations that the United States did years ago achieve something unique in human experience, the first steps off the home planet.

Achieving JFK’s Purposes

John Kennedy chose to go to the Moon as a means of restoring the U. S. prestige that he judged had been lost during the Eisenhower administration.

In the shorter term, he also wanted to counteract the prestige loss caused by the conjunction of the Soviet success with the flight of Yuri Gagarin and the U. S. failure at the Bay of Pigs. Kennedy in 1961 conceptualized prestige in a way well described by British diplomatic historian F. S. Oliver thirty years earlier:

What prestige is, it would be hard to describe precisely, It may be nothing more substantial than an effect produced upon the international imagina­tion—in other words, an illusion. It is, however, far from being a mere bubble of vanity; for the nation that possesses great prestige is thereby enabled to have its way, and to bring things to pass which it could never hope to achieve by its own forces. Prestige draws material benefits in its train. Political wisdom will never despise it.21

In terms of both shorter-term and more lasting impacts on U. S. interna­tional prestige and the associated national pride, Apollo was a substantial success. Within months of JFK’s clarion call, NASA and U. S. industry were mobilized in a high-profile pursuit of the lunar landing goal. By declaring that the United States intended to take a leading position in space, and by then taking the steps to turn that declaration into practice, Kennedy effectively undercut the unilateral Soviet space advantage in dramatic space achievements well before any comparable U. S. success. The succes­sive achievements of Projects Mercury and Gemini, and most notably the February 1962 first U. S. orbital flight of John Glenn, became initial steps in JFK’s lunar quest and thus made the U. S. space program of the 1960s a source of international prestige and national pride. The psychological and political advantages of early Soviet space successes were quickly and effec­tively countered.

The success of Apollo 11 in July 1969 and five subsequent missions to the lunar surface (Apollo 13, of course, had a major failure on the way to the Moon and did not complete its landing mission) cemented the international perception of the United States as a country committed to peaceful space achievements “for all mankind.” Americans who were abroad at the time of the first Moon landings, U. S. diplomats, and Apollo astronauts return­ing from post-mission international tours all attested to an immense flow of admiration for the country that could accomplish such a feat. Senior State Department officer U. Alexis Johnson reported that “There is no question that the success of Apollo 11 mission did more to bolster prestige abroad than any single event since the termination of the Pacific War in 1945.” Johnson added a qualification, noting that “no one could hope or expect that the euphoric burst of enthusiasm felt by most of the world toward our country. . . could be long maintained—nor has it been.” According to Johnson, “we are left, however, with a very substantial residue of admiration and prestige. While benefits are impossible to measure in quantitative terms, these gains should be of very real value with respect to our posture in the world and our relations abroad for many years to come.”22 John Kennedy could not have hoped for a better report on the success of his 1961 lunar landing decision.

One analyst of the Kennedy presidency has suggested that JFK’s “aggres­sive, militaristic, confrontational attitude” toward the Soviet Union made the world a riskier place during Kennedy’s brief time in office, as he “waged Cold War.”23 Extending this judgment to the race to the Moon seems unjus­tified. By choosing a Cold War competitive arena that did not involve mili­tary or direct political confrontation, Kennedy channeled one dimension of the U. S.-Soviet rivalry into what some have described as “the moral equiva­lent of war,” rather than armed confrontation.

As it turned out, however, during the Kennedy administration the United States was racing only itself to the Moon. We now know that while by 1963 the Soviet Union had begun to develop a large space rocket capable of send­ing a cosmonaut to the Moon, it had not yet decided to use it for lunar missions. It was not until spring 1964 that Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) analysts identified activity at the Soviet launch site in central Asia as a launch complex for a very large rocket. Until then, the CIA in its intelligence estimates had basically assumed without supporting hard evidence that the Soviet Union was pursuing a lunar landing program, both because that was a logical extension of past Soviet space activities and because the United States had identified a lunar landing as the appropriate goal for human space flight and intelligence analysts reasoned that the Soviet would follow the same course.24

Kennedy was aware in 1961 that his decision to go to the Moon was being made without knowledge of Soviet space intentions; he decided that the prestige benefits of the lunar landing program required that the United States be first to the Moon, whether or not the Soviet Union was in the race. But he continually referred to U. S.-Soviet competition in going to the Moon in his public statements defending his decision. This was certainly the politically expedient thing to do; it would have been far more difficult to maintain political support for Apollo if the threat of Soviet competition had been absent. Several of President Kennedy’s advisers in 1962 and 1963 alerted Kennedy to the lack of evidence in support of Soviet lunar intentions, and Kennedy was quite aware of the mid-1963 claims by Bernard Lovell that the Soviets did not have a lunar landing program. By then, he seems to have accepted James Webb’s argument that the U. S. lunar program was an extremely valuable focal point for developing overall U. S. space capability, and that it should proceed, cooperatively if possible but unilaterally if not, even if the Soviet Union did not have a similar program.

Both during the Kennedy administration and during the rest of the 1960s (and even until today), critics have argued that the Apollo program was an unfortunate reflection of misplaced U. S. priorities. President Kennedy was aware of these criticisms, and in 1963 worked to prepare answers to the program’s doubters. Apollo came to culmination at a time when the United States was experiencing urban riots, civil rights conflicts, political assassina­tions, and a seemingly pointless war in Southeast Asia. Kennedy cannot be faulted for not anticipating the domestic and international upheavals of the 1960s that changed the social context in which the lunar landings actually took place. In starting Apollo, Kennedy gave more weight to the situation in 1961 than to the longer-term situation in which the landings would actually take place. From his perspective in spring 1961, Apollo looked like the right thing to do.

All in all, then, an evaluation of Project Apollo in terms of the objectives that led John Kennedy to initiate and sustain it must be positive. Although it is impossible clearly to separate the positive impacts of Apollo from the many negatives of the decade of the 1960s, if not for the achievements of the U. S. space program at the end of the decade there would be little positive for Americans to remember from that time.

Even though the significance of the Soviet launches of spacecraft begin­ning with Sputnik 1 in October 1957 and the dog-carrying Sputnik 2 the following month and the appropriate U. S. response to Soviet space achievements were major issues before the Congress between 1958 and 1960, Senator Kennedy said little about space issues during those years. Kennedy also showed little personal interest in U. S. and Soviet space efforts. He was a member of the Visiting Committee of the Harvard College Observatory, but any curiosity he may have had regarding astron­omy apparently did not carry over into the space realm. The head of the Instrumentation Laboratory at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Charles Stark Draper, recalled a discussion with John Kennedy and his brother Robert at a Boston restaurant during the post-Sputnik period. Draper tried to get the Kennedy brothers excited about the promise of space flight. According to one account of the evening, the brothers treated Draper and his ideas “with good-natured scorn”; Draper noted that they “could not be convinced that all rockets were not a waste of money, and space navigation even worse.”2 Kennedy did vote in February 1958 to create a Senate Special Committee on Space and Aeronautics and voted in favor of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) funding bills in 1959 and 1960; other actions related to NASA during those years were approved by voice votes, without the positions of indi­vidual senators being recorded.3

Kennedy’s primary focus in his years in the Senate was defense and foreign policy, with particular attention after 1957 to what he and many others called an emerging U. S.-Soviet “missile gap.” The growing disparity between U. S. and Soviet missile capability, Kennedy argued, would soon put the United States at a significant strategic disadvantage vis-a-vis the Soviet Union. In a speech on the Senate floor on August 14, 1958, Kennedy expressed worry that the Soviet Union’s superiority in nuclear-tipped missiles would allow it to use “sputnik diplomacy” and other nonmilitary means to shift the bal­ance of global power against the United States.4 Kennedy, when he did speak about space issues in the post-Sputnik period, most often linked them to the missile gap issue, frequently using the term “missile-space problem.”

Kennedy did gain a seat on the prestigious Committee on Foreign Relations in the mid-1950s. He was one of the first senators to recognize the significance for U. S. interests of the decolonization movement of the late 1950s; he thought it essential that the United States be an appealing ally to Asians and Africans as they chose which social system to pursue as independent nations. Kennedy attracted international attention by denounc­ing French suppression of Algeria’s move toward independence.5 He was an ardent anticommunist at this point in his life, and the possibility of newly independent nations “going communist” was troubling to him. His interest in presenting a positive image of the United States to the countries of the third world was a factor in his later judgment that the United States could not by default cede space leadership to the Soviet Union.

An intriguing insight into what may have been JFK’s views on space in the prepresidential period emerges from his February 16, 1960, response to a handwritten letter from a Princeton University freshman “with a strong Republican background” who told Senator Kennedy that he should “put more money in the space program.” In his response, Kennedy noted that the letter had reached him because of the author’s “undeviating Republicanism, Princetonian self-assurance and uncomplicated handwriting.” Kennedy sug­gested that “whatever the scale and pace of the American space effort, it should be a scientific program. . . In this interval when we lack adequate pro­pulsion units, we should not attempt to cover this weakness with stunts.” He added, “When this weakness is overcome, our ventures should remain seriously scientific in their purpose.” Kennedy felt that “with respect to the competitive and psychological aspects of the space program, it is evident that we have suffered damage to American prestige and will continue to suffer for some time.” However, he pointed out that “our recent loss of international prestige results from an accumulation of real or believed deficiencies in the American performance on the world scene: military, diplomatic, and eco­nomic. It is not simply a consequence of our lag in the exploration of space vis-a-vis the Soviet Union.”

Kennedy listed these deficiencies in the order in which he thought they should be addressed: “the missile gap,” “inadequate or misdirected policies in the underdeveloped areas,” “the disarray of NATO,” “the weakening of the international position of the dollar,” and, finally, “our inferior position in space exploration.” He thought that the United States “should accept the costs now of achieving the powerful propulsion unit a few years earlier than now may be the case” and looked forward to “the internationalization of space exploration, first on a Free World basis, then with the USSR.” This response suggests that Senator Kennedy had indeed given some thought to space issues before February 1960, and that in his judgment they had a lower priority in comparison to other threats to U. S. leadership; this may well be an accurate reflection of his views as opposed to the strident attitude toward space leadership that characterized much of his campaign rhetoric later in the year. Notable is JFK’s interest at this early date in both increasing the lifting power of U. S. rockets and in internationalizing space activity. The letter also suggests, as in the use of the expression “propulsion unit” rather than launch vehicle, that Kennedy or whoever composed the response was not very famil­iar with the specifics of the U. S. space effort.6

According to his closest policy adviser, Theodore C. Sorensen, by mid – 1960 Kennedy thought of space “primarily in symbolic terms. . . Our lagging space effort was symbolic, he thought, of everything of which he complained in the Eisenhower Administration: the lack of effort, the lack of initiative, the lack of imagination, vitality, and vision; and the more the Russians gained in space during the last few years in the fifties, the more he thought it showed up the Eisenhower Administration’s lag in this area and damaged the pres­tige of the United States abroad.”7

On a frigid and snow-covered January 20, 1961, John F. Kennedy was sworn in as the thirty-fifth President of the United States. In his stirring inaugu­ral address, Kennedy had a particular message “to those nations who would make themselves our adversary.” He asked that “both sides begin anew the quest for peace,” but that toward potential adversaries, “we dare not tempt them with weakness.” So, “let us begin anew, remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness. . . Let us never negotiate out of fear, but let us never fear to negotiate. Let both sides explore what problems unite us. . . Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its ter­rors. Together let us explore the stars.” Kennedy stressed the sacrifices he was asking of Americans in order to lead the global fight for freedom, saying “now the trumpet summons us again—not as a call to bear arms, though arms we need—not as a call to battle, though embattled we are—but a call to bear the burden of a long twilight struggle, year in and year out”; he called his countrymen to action with his much-quoted admonition, “Ask not what your country can do for you—ask what you can do for your country.”1

Theodore Sorensen, who collaborated with Kennedy in drafting the address, notes that one line in the speech was “a more important statement of his administration’s intent” than any other in the speech: “Only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.” This, says Sorensen, “was the Kennedy approach to war and peace,” combining unmistakable strength with a willingness to seek areas of cooperation rather than to focus on areas of conflict.2 It was an approach that Kennedy was to use with respect to space in all his days in office—preferring to cooperate but being willing to compete if that was the better path to advancing U. S. interests.

The inaugural address, in addition to its soaring rhetoric, reflected Kennedy’s world view as he entered office. Thomas Reeves notes that Kennedy brought with him to the White House “the values and many of the ideas his father had instilled in all the Kennedy children.” These included

“the president’s selection of pragmatic advisers, his overall lack of interest in domestic reform, his conservative economic views, his hard-nosed posture in foreign affairs. . . and his intense interest in public relations and his image.”3

In his September 1960 memorandum on “Organizing the Transition,” Richard Neustadt had observed that “one hears talk all over town about ‘another Hundred Days’ [referring to the beginning ofFranklin D. Roosevelt’s first term in office], once Kennedy is in the White House.” Neustadt felt that “if this means an impression to be made on congressmen, bureaucrats, press, public, foreign governments, the analogy is apt.” He suggested that “noth­ing would help the new administration more than such a first impression of energy, direction, action, and accomplishment. Creating that impression and sustaining it becomes a prime objective for the months after Inauguration Day.” Arthur Schlesinger adds that it was Kennedy’s intention in his initial days in office “to create a picture of drive, purpose and hope.”4

This intention was not realized. Instead, the first one hundred days of the Kennedy administration were marked by slow movement of Kennedy’s domestic program through the Congress and immediate challenges from abroad. After an initial victory in the House of Representatives, adding two more liberal members to the southern conservative-dominated House Rules Committee and thus making it more likely that the committee would not block Kennedy’s legislative proposals from reaching the House floor, the president found that moving his domestic policy proposals through the Congress was much slower going than he had hoped for.

In the foreign policy and national security fields, even more intractable issues confronted the new president. Kennedy and his close associates were troubled by a January 6 speech by Soviet premier Nikita Khrushchev, in which the Soviet leader projected “bellicose confidence” that international events were trending in the favor of the Communists; Khrushchev had said that “there is no longer any force in the world capable of barring the road to socialism.” Kennedy’s tough language in his inaugural address was an initial reaction to the Soviet challenge. On February 23, Kennedy sent off a letter to Khrushchev, suggesting an early meeting between the two; it was Kennedy’s hope that he could convince the Soviet leader that the United States could not be bullied.5

The first crisis of the new administration in foreign policy emerged in mid-March; Kennedy was faced with the decision of whether or not to inter­vene with U. S. troops in Laos, a small landlocked country in Southeast Asia, where the pro-American government seemed to be on the verge of mili­tary defeat by the Communist Pathet Lao forces. The White House inter­preted this conflict as one of the “wars of national liberation” that Nikita Khrushchev had said in his January speech would be an important means for spreading Communist values around the world. On March 20 and again on March 21, Kennedy met with his National Security Council to discuss whether immediate intervention was necessary or whether a diplomatic solution was still possible. The joint chiefs of staff, fearing another Korea – like engagement half a world away, urged decisive actions involving 60,000 troops, air support, and possibly the use of tactical nuclear weapons in order to ensure quick success. After these meetings, Kennedy decided not to inter­vene as yet, but to demonstrate his willingness to do so if the United States and the Soviet Union could not find grounds for compromise on the future of Laos. Kennedy scheduled a press conference for March 23 in order to issue a public warning to the Soviets that the United States would intervene unless an immediate ceasefire could be arranged.6

It was in this troubled domestic and international context that the Kennedy administration took its first steps in determining the future of the U. S. civilian space program. Compared to the other issues on his agenda, space remained a relatively low priority item, and Kennedy himself was only occasionally directly involved. However, early attention to a number of issues could not be avoided.