↩ the History · a speech, filed

The Inaugural Address

John F. Kennedy · the Capitol · January 20, 1961
text: The American Presidency Project, UC Santa Barbara · a work of the United States government, in the public domain
colour carries the act's function; a dashed underline marks a predicted misfire; hover or focus any span for its filing

Vice President Johnson, Mr. Speaker, Mr. Chief Justice, President Eisenhower, Vice president Nixon, President Truman, Reverend Clergy, fellow citizens:

We observe today not a victory of party but a celebration of freedom--symbolizing an end as well as a beginning--signifying renewal as well as change. For I have sworn before you and Almighty God the same solemn oath our forebears prescribed nearly a century and three quarters ago.

The world is very different now. For man holds in his mortal hands the power to abolish all forms of human poverty and all forms of human life. And yet the same revolutionary beliefs for which our forebears fought are still at issue around the globe--the belief that the rights of man come not from the generosity of the state but from the hand of God.

We dare not forget today that we are the heirs of that first revolution. Let the word go forth from this time and place, to friend and foe alike, that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans--born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage--and unwilling to witness or permit the slow undoing of those human rights to which this nation has always been committed, and to which we are committed today at home and around the world.

Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, that we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe to assure the survival and the success of liberty.

This much we pledge--and more.

To those old allies whose cultural and spiritual origins we share, we pledge the loyalty of faithful friends. United, there is little we cannot do in a host of cooperative ventures. Divided, there is little we can do--for we dare not meet a powerful challenge at odds and split asunder.

To those new states whom we welcome to the ranks of the free, we pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny. We shall not always expect to find them supporting our view. But we shall always hope to find them strongly supporting their own freedom-and to remember that, in the past, those who foolishly sought power by riding the back of the tiger ended up inside.

To those peoples in the huts and villages of half the globe struggling to break the bonds of mass misery, we pledge our best efforts to help them help themselves, for whatever period is required--not because the communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right. If a free society cannot help the many who are poor, it cannot save the few who are rich.

To our sister republics south of our border, we offer a special pledge--to convert our good words into good deeds--in a new alliance for progress--to assist free men and free governments in casting off the chains of poverty. But this peaceful revolution of hope cannot become the prey of hostile powers. Let all our neighbors know that we shall join with them to oppose aggression or subversion anywhere in the Americas. And let every other power know that this Hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house.

To that world assembly of sovereign states, the United Nations, our last best hope in an age where the instruments of war have far outpaced the instruments of peace, we renew our pledge of support--to prevent it from becoming merely a forum for invective--to strengthen its shield of the new and the weak--and to enlarge the area in which its writ may run.

Finally, to those nations who would make themselves our adversary, we offer not a pledge but a request: that both sides begin anew the quest for peace, before the dark powers of destruction unleashed by science engulf all humanity in planned or accidental self-destruction.

We dare not tempt them with weakness. For only when our arms are sufficient beyond doubt can we be certain beyond doubt that they will never be employed.

But neither can two great and powerful groups of nations take comfort from our present course--both sides overburdened by the cost of modern weapons, both rightly alarmed by the steady spread of the deadly atom, yet both racing to alter that uncertain balance of terror that stays the hand of mankind's final war.

So let us begin anew--remembering on both sides that civility is not a sign of weakness, and sincerity is always subject to proof. Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate.

Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us.

Let both sides, for the first time, formulate serious and precise proposals for the inspection and control of arms--and bring the absolute power to destroy other nations under the absolute control of all nations.

Let both sides seek to invoke the wonders of science instead of its terrors. Together let us explore the stars, conquer the deserts, eradicate disease, tap the ocean depths and encourage the arts and commerce.

Let both sides unite to heed in all corners of the earth the command of Isaiah--to "undo the heavy burdens . . . (and) let the oppressed go free."

And if a beach-head of cooperation may push back the jungle of suspicion, let both sides join in creating a new endeavor, not a new balance of power, but a new world of law, where the strong are just and the weak secure and the peace preserved.

All this will not be finished in the first one hundred days. Nor will it be finished in the first one thousand days, nor in the life of this Administration, nor even perhaps in our lifetime on this planet. But let us begin.

In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine, will rest the final success or failure of our course. Since this country was founded, each generation of Americans has been summoned to give testimony to its national loyalty. The graves of young Americans who answered the call to service surround the globe.

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, "rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation"--a struggle against the common enemies of man: tyranny, poverty, disease and war itself.

Can we forge against these enemies a grand and global alliance, North and South, East and West, that can assure a more fruitful life for all mankind? Will you join in that historic effort?

In the long history of the world, only a few generations have been granted the role of defending freedom in its hour of maximum danger. I do not shrink from this responsibility--I welcome it. I do not believe that any of us would exchange places with any other people or any other generation. The energy, the faith, the devotion which we bring to this endeavor will light our country and all who serve it--and the glow from that fire can truly light the world.

And so, my fellow Americans: ask not what your country can do for you--ask what you can do for your country.

My fellow citizens of the world: ask not what America will do for you, but what together we can do for the freedom of man.

Finally, whether you are citizens of America or citizens of the world, ask of us here the same high standards of strength and sacrifice which we ask of you. With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.

The divergences

"We shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe" — an allied government files a Promise, keyed to the world and cooperatively meant; a government that wishes us ill files a Threat, a conditional commitment to harm keyed to standing. They part on orientation. The sentence names both audiences inside its own subordinate clause — "whether it wishes us well or ill" — and gives them the same five verbs, which is what keeps both filings alive. The price and the burden are left unbounded, and eight paragraphs later the speech asks the second audience to negotiate.

"We pledge our word that one form of colonial control shall not have passed away merely to be replaced by a far more iron tyranny" — a new government in Accra or Delhi files a Promise of support against the tyranny named; a reader in Washington files a Frame-set, a condition of admission to "the ranks of the free" rather than a commitment made to anyone in it. They part on function. The paragraph settles the question by grammar: the vocative "To those new states" lasts one sentence, after which the addressee becomes "them," and the tiger proverb is spoken about them rather than to them.

"Not because the communists may be doing it, not because we seek their votes, but because it is right" — the peoples addressed file a Promise whose motive has been disclosed and cleared; a Congress that must appropriate it files an Assertion about the contest, since the two reasons denied are the reasons the rest of the speech supplies — "oppose any foe" four paragraphs earlier, "those nations who would make themselves our adversary" two paragraphs later. They part on motive. Naming a motive in order to deny it is a different act from concealing it, which is why this is a divergence and not a misfire: the denial is on the page, and each party decides what the denial is worth.

"Let every other power know that this Hemisphere intends to remain the master of its own house" — a power outside the Americas files a Threat, with the harm supplied by the sentence before it; a government inside the Americas files a Declaration about who owns the house, and the sentence never says whether "its own" means its own or the speaker's. They part on target: an act aimed at rivals, or an act on the standing of the countries the speaker has just called "our sister republics" and "our neighbors" — possessives that belong to one government throughout the paragraph. Twelve weeks later a brigade landed at the Bay of Pigs.

"Let both sides explore what problems unite us instead of belaboring those problems which divide us" — the audience on the Capitol steps files an Order and hears an opening offered in good faith; the government being directed, reading the transcript, files an Assertion made to Americans about American reasonableness, since all five sentences of the series name it in the third person and the speech hands its second person to a government nowhere. They part on orientation: keyed to the world, or to standing before the people in front of the speaker. The answer came at Vienna in June and in Berlin in August.

"All this will not be finished in the first one hundred days" — supporters file an Assertion about how long a foreign policy takes; opponents file a Frame-set that suspends the standards under which the seven pledges could be tested, since the paragraph names each unit by which an administration is measured — a hundred days, a thousand days, the life of this Administration — and rules every one of them out. They part on scope: a caution about one term, or an exemption covering everything pledged in the preceding twelve paragraphs. "But let us begin" restores the duty to start and leaves the duty to finish where the paragraph put it.

"Ask not what your country can do for you--ask what you can do for your country" — a citizen files an Order, the only one in the speech aimed at him in the singular; a reader of the occasion files a Frame-set, since an inaugural is the ceremony in which one man swears an oath and the audience swears nothing, and this sentence moves the obligation across the platform. They part on function: a demand for service, or a declaration about who owes whom. The ground was laid four paragraphs earlier — "In your hands, my fellow citizens, more than mine" — and the objection is answered two sentences later by an instruction to the audience to "ask of us here the same high standards," which returns the demand without binding anyone on the platform to meet it.