Timeline In Review | February 1963

TRADITION IN TRANSITION			FEBRUARY 1963

TIMELINE	FILM	TV	MUSIC	ADS

TIMELINE IN REVIEW


From Cold War anxieties to space exploration novelties, the events of February 1963 exemplify how the Americans held on to the past while reaching ahead to the future. Such reservation is not surprising considering the experiences of the Great Depression through two World Wars to the Korean War still lingered in the American experience. Against this backdrop, the rigid hegemony of the 1950s seems only natural after a considerable period of strife and stolen dreams. Yet, these hyper-idealistic inclinations came into conflict with the socio-political climate of the tumultuous 1960s, a decade riddled with nuclear paranoia, racial integration, technological innovation, women's liberation, Vietnamese aggression, and a counterculture revolution. As Bob Dylan would eloquently surmise, "these times, they are a changin'." Though many of these issues confounded American daily life, February 1963, like much of the early sixties, struggled to hold onto the familiar conventions of the fifties rather than face these issues head on. Try as it may, however, mass media could not completely ignore the events saturating its news headlines. Granted, American social and political attitudes remained loyal to fifties ideals, but a subtle discourse of change would occasionally find its way to the steady flow of mainstream culture. Consider the following cartoon sketches pulled from the margins of popular magazines such as Time, New Yorker, and The Saturday Evening Post. Scripted satirically, the tensions between post-war values and contemporary issues manifested shed light on the transition away from a fifties sensibility to a sixties reality befuddled by socio-political complexities.

Nuclear Anxieties

After the dubious conclusion of the Korean War, Cold War tensions ensued between the United States and the Soviet Union, plus any third parties pledging allegiance to either side. Dropping of the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki brought the use of nuclear weaponry into being. Nuclear arms no longer existed as mere science fiction but as an undeniable plausibility. As the "Domino Theory", which suggested that China's fall to communism followed by that of Korea or Japan would resultantly spread among the entire continent of Asia, led Americans into diplomatic relations with Japan soon after the conclusion of the Second World War, as well as involvement in the civil dispute between North and South Vietnam. Increasing tensions in Cuba as a Soviet nuclear enclave, therefore, petrified Americans. Coupled with nuclear arms, the communist threat threatened more than American ideals of democracy as it promised to unleash an onslaught of nuclear antagonism.


Day one of February 1963 reopened nuclear testing, as mandated by President Kennedy, in the wake of failed Soviet-American test ban talks. Responding to this undesirable change of events, this cartoon sketch, on the one hand, shows the promise of peace upon the "egg" bearing the end of nuclear threat. Yet, as the byline ominously warns, "Don't count your chickens?," given the present mounting conflict in Cuba and the Soviet Union, Americans would be foolish to feel assured of the end of the nuclear threat. "In the Cold War— a Cold War cease fire?" With the Cuban Missile Crisis occupying American domestic concerns and increasing discord between China and the Soviet Union, this sketch wonders if the "petty" concerns of these secondary countries might bring the animus between these two superpowers to a halt, if only for a moment. Given the statement issued by the Soviet Union on February 11th that US resumption of underground nuclear tests has given "impetus to a new nuclear arms race," such a conjecture seems unfounded, as the threat of nuclear war only increases. Certainly, Minister Malinovsky's allusion to an impending third world war on the 22nd, qualified American nuclear paranoia.

The Next "Frontier"

Though these anxieties of a nuclear holocaust, if anything, uphold a fifties sensibility, the growing suspicion of government leaders is a clear break from the unquestioned role of authority pervasive in that decade. The sixties, in contrast, experienced the beginnings of widespread criticism of the government and its members. Fascinated by the secrets space exploration would reveal, astronauts and spaceships captivated the American imagination. Here in this sketch, however, the mysteries of space serve as a stage for criticizing the known realities of American society. Asserting leaders are "alien" in far away worlds, this short take on life beyond voices the growing discontent with political leadership here on earth. From the mouths of New York Governor Rockefeller on the 9th to Senate Foreign Relations Committee Chairman J. W. on the 16th, critique within the government led the public to question the salience of their leaders.




	Space exploration did indeed play a crucial role in building American patriotism. Captivated by the mythic west, space became the next "frontier," astronauts the new hero. Beyond the issues besetting this world, space enabled escape from the increasing unavoidable conflicts. Moreover, space exploration mobilized American patriotism by politicizing this technological endeavor into a race of cultural superiority between the United States and Russia. Given these interests, it is not surprising that on the 18th President Kennedy awarded the first United States' National Medal of Science to Theodore von Karman for his contributions to "applied mechanics, aerodynamics and astronautics." Neither is it surprising that the first attempt to put a communications satellite (Syncom 1) into an almost synchronous orbit, though a failure, headlines the news on the 14th.

Anti-War Protest

	Adding to the growing discourse of dissent is the anti-war protests, largely led by the youth, against involvement in Vietnam. Dedicated and determined, this voice of dissent did not receive due recognition from mainstream culture. Instead, as illustrated by this sketch, their demands ended up the butt of the joke. Even the beloved Kennedy ignored these cries on the 14th when he used his first message to Congress concerning youth to call for the formation of a Youth Conservation Corps. The Vietnam War, however, was no joke in February 1963, but rather an inescapable reality. President Kennedy's allegiance of support to Laos on the 25th and heightened violence of air combat the 26th prove the Vietnam is doing anything but going away, even with a special Senate panel's conclusions that involvement in Vietnam held no justifiable interest for the United States on the 24th.

Negotiating Racial Understanding

Demands of the dissenting youth were not the only ones sidestepped by the government, as strides towards improved civil liberties by African-Americans experienced as much disdain as it did evasion. On the one hand, February 1963 sees the debut of WOOK-TV, the first all-Negro operated TV station in the US, goes on air in Washington, DC (11) and hears President Kennedy ask Congress to enact measures to strengthen enforcement of the voting rights provisions of the 1957 and the 1960 Civil Rights Acts (28). However, the "policy of continued legal action backed by a persuasive militancy" to help end racial bias in the US called for by Presidential adviser Chester Bowles (15) takes a backseat to "more pressing" concerns over Cuba.




Absent from the airy, apolitical discourse of entertainment dialogue, the civil rights movement only gains momentum. Over 400 integrationists demonstrate against the segregation policies of a Baltimore, MD movie theater on the 17th. Citing First Amendment rights of assembly and speech, on the 25th the Supreme Court overturns breach-of-peace convictions against 187 Negroes arrested in March 1961 for demonstrating on State Capitol grounds in Columbia, SC. On the 28th, Malcolm X departs from his generally separatist theme to appeal for cooperation with Negro integrationists. The two social improvement advertisements shown here unabashedly promote racial understanding. What is more, they couch these social ideologies as patriotic and decidedly, "All American." Note the use of baseball, an iconic American sport, and children, as a means of negotiating pluralism.

		Little Rock: Things are not as placid as they might seem on the school-integration front here. Since 1957, when the paratroopers rushed in to enforce integration orders at Central High, exactly 75 Negroes are not enrolled in the city's previously all-white high schools. Negro groups now plan further lawsuits to speed the process. Note: under the original court plan, Little Rock's schools were to be "fully" desegregated by 1963. (Newsweek Feb. 4)

		It was an instructive journey north for Mississippi's Governor Ross Barnett, 65, invited to speak by the Harvard Law School Forum. Stopping by the Massachusetts State House on a protocol visit, Barnett was talking with officials when in walked Attorney General Edward W. Brooke, 43, first Negro elected to such a post in the US. Barnett briefly shook hands. "Hello there," he said. "Welcome to Massachusetts, Governor," replied Brooke with a smile, and then shook hands with Mrs. Barnett and her daughter. (Time Feb. 15)

		Once she sang Stormy Weather, it never quite sounded right coming from anyone else. But after 28 years of carrying a smoky torch from Harlem to Hollywood, Lena Horne, still sultry at 45, finds the flame burning lower. Soon after she finishes her six-week run at Manhattan's Waldorf-Astoria, Lena says she will give up nightclub singing altogether. "It's stifling to keep singing these silly boy-girl songs all your life. All the drama has moved from Broadway to Mississippi. Why be trivial in times like these?" Her idea: "Match bitternesses" with Essayists James Baldwin in a musical play. (Time Feb. 15)


"Trouble is you start treating people like equals, they begin to believe it." Standing in stark contrast to these socially sensitive ad campaigns, this cartoon sketch captures deep-set reservations to integration while remaining ambiguous on the content of his sentiment, leaving up to the reader to infer who "they" are. Given the climate of race relations at this time, most likely one would have assumed "they" referred to African Americans. Of course, the existence of the civil rights movement proved African Americans had no reason to believe they were indeed equal. Even those "accepted" by the American mainstream, such as James Baldwin and Lena Horne, could no longer ignore the need for change in race relations. True, 1960 did witness the passing of the Civil Rights Act, which enabled the appointment of Edward W. Brooke as Massachusetts' Attorney General. But where the act promised to bring change, in places like Little Rock, only minor differences could be observed. Though the focus of racial tension remained in the South, the Civil Rights Commission acknowledged race to be a nationwide issue, when it suggested that the South's overt racial discrimination may be more quickly overcome than the "subtler forms of denial" that exist in the North (12).

Breaking the Mold

Compared to race, critiquing Kennedy's tax cuts proved a less volatile. From articles to cartoons like this one, protecting the American billfold proves to be as important as safeguarding its democratic freedoms. On another level, the "don't think" sign over the door to the US Mint imposes a radical voice of dissent. Hegemonic normality, esteemed and ardently adhered to in the 1950s, eroded under the revolutions of the 1960s. "Gentlemen, I want you to meet Mr. Fannin, who has just joined our staff." Evinced in this sketch of exaggerated conformity, disenchantment with such conformity chips away at the salience of convention.

Caught between the traditional ideals of post-war values and quickly changing social norms, Americans could hardly ascertain their ever-evolving identity. Consider this strip of a cross-dressing male. On a level, the point of contention in this sketch is a man's discontent with his baldness. Arguably, this cartoon alludes to merging male and female roles, as the man goes to presumably his wife's dresser to acquire his secret desire, hair. But in considering the first frame, where his frustration might be understood as having to wear a tie, it is not merely his baldness that is troubling him, but the rigid code of conduct that separates his realm from that of his wife's, even within the privacy of the home. In the last frame, he is shown leaving, with tie but without hair. As the publication of The Feminine Mystique on the 19th helps to forward the women's liberation movement to the forefront of mainstream culture, this sketch suggests that women are not the only ones unhappy with the prevailing norms of gender roles.



Mediating Change

As this discussion of the events taking place in February 1963 brings to bear, Americans found themselves on the cusp of inevitable change. Dealing with this imminent reality proved contentious, as America faced the future with as much fear as eager anticipation. Fraught with impending doom in the Cuban Missile Crisis and uncharted possibilities in the space race, Americans chose to gloss over the social revolutions emerging at this pivotal moment in the form of the civil rights, counterculture, and women's liberation movements. Popular culture had a much easier time chronicling the American exhibiting of the Mona Lisa or the narcissistic arrogance of Cassius Clay, than it did negotiating the pressing social concerns beleaguering the country within the framework of its profit-motivated industries.


		"I Saw It." Though even a viewer himself might not be able to separate how much of his own feeling was curiosity and how much was appreciation, there was plainly plenty of tourism, celebrity-seeking, and status-hunting about the current crush to see the Mona Lisa. Half a million people "passed in front of it," to use a gallery phrase, in the 3 ½ weeks in Washington, assuring the museum a record attendance in 1963, giving thousands little more than a reason to say, "I saw it." There was a general atmosphere of keep moving which interfered with tranquil inspection, but then, all around were other pictures, well deserving of close inspection, which got little attention from the crowds. (Time Feb. 15)



Clay Pigeon: Heavyweight contender Cassius Clay has everything but the title. In his pink Cadillac with built-in record player, Clay hummed his way along the Pennsylvania Turnpike last week. The Caddy was humming, too. At 78 miles per hour in a 65-mile-per-hour zone, it flashed past a tan Chevrolet which happened to pack a sneak punch: it was an unmarked police car. Over the sound of music came a siren's wail, and Cassius took a $15 count. Even so, the thanked the judge and scribbled an autograph for arresting trooper Norton L. Greening: To Nort from Cassius, the next champion." (Newsweek Feb. 18)


As delving further into this analytical retrospective of February 1963 will demonstrate, the traditional conventions stemming from the fifties are no longer relevant to the socio-political concerns of the sixties. Rather than serving as a catalyst for change, the entertainment industry caters to the escapist desires among Americans striving to distance themselves from the intense realities overwhelming the news media. Only the most subtle references to these volatile issues make their way to the forefront of popular culture in this month.