[LIFE, Aug. 22, 1960, pp. 70B, 72, 75, 76, and 77]

THE NATIONAL PURPOSE DISCUSSION IS RESUMED

"WE MUST CLIMB TO THE HILLTOP"

By Senator John F. Kennedy

     In all recorded history, probably the sagest bit of advice ever offered man was the ancient admonition to "know thyself." As with individuals, so with nations. Just as a man who realizes that his life has gone off course can regain his bearings only through the strictest self-scrutiny, so a whole people, become aware that things have somehow gone wrong, can right matters only by a rigidly honest look at its core of collective being, its national purpose.
     Thus, while on the one hand the fact that we have felt the urge to debate our national purpose signalizes our arrival at a potential crisis point, on the other hand the fact that we have entered into the debate willingly, indeed with gusto, bodes well for the eventual outcome.
     Among our overindulgences of the past decade has been the lavish use of a kind of cloudy rhetoric that only befogs the truth. Yet basically we Americans prefer plain talk and commonsense. It is these we must apply if we are to "know ourselves" again.
     The facets of this debate on national purpose are many. Other than to agree that the whole subject vitally needs airing, the debaters are split a dozen ways as to which aspect of it demands greatest emphasis. Some prefer to dwell on what has happened to our national purpose - whether irrevocably lost, permanently strayed or temporarily sidetracked; others on why what has happened has happened; others on what can be done by way of remedy or retrieve. Above all, the debate turns on precisely what this "purpose" is that, momentarily or forever, has gone from our midst.
     The distinguished contributors to previous installments of this Life series have offered a variety of definitions of our national purpose, all of them valid. From this it can be seen that no one word or catch phrase will suffice to pinpoint it. Our national purpose is resident, obviously, in the magnificent principles of the Declaration of Independence and of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. It also plainly appears in the writings of Jefferson, Madison, and Hamilton, in the words of Jackson and Lincoln, in the works of Emerson and Whitman, in the opinions of Marshall and Holmes, in Wilson's New Freedom and Franklin D. Roosevelt's Four Freedoms. In common, all of these pulse with a sense of idealistic aspiration, of the struggle for a more perfect Union, of the effort to build the good society as well as the good life here and in the rest of the world.
     There is, I think, still another way to describe our national purpose. This definition, while almost a literal one, is nevertheless not a narrow one. It is that our national purpose consists of the combined purpose fulness of each of us when we are at our moral best: striving, risking, choosing, making decisions, engaging in a pursuit of happiness that is strenuous, heroic, exciting and exalted. When we do so as individuals, we make a nation that, in Jefferson's words, will always be "in the full tide of successful experiment."
     Such a definition, because it implies a constant, restless, confident questing, neither precludes nor outmodes, but rather complements the expression of national purpose set forth in our Declaration, our institution, and in the words of our great Presidents, jurists and writers. The purpose they envisioned can, indeed, never be outmoded, because it has never been and can never be fully achieved. It will always be somewhere just out of reach, a challenge to further aspiring, struggling, striving, and searching. Quest has always been the dominant note of our history, whether a quest for national independence; a quest for personal liberty and economic opportunity on a new continent from which the rest of mankind could take heart and hope; a quest for more land, more knowledge, more dignity; a quest for more effective democracy; a quest for a world of free and pacific nations.
     It should be said at once that no nation has a corner on striving and aspiring any more than on virtue and compassion. Thus, our national purpose finds echo in the minds of men of good intent everywhere. But our purpose may differ from others in the particular background against which it evolved, and by three fundamental facts about us:
     First, Americans, more than other peoples, have since independence, cherished a strong sense of destiny.
     Second, we have always been optimists about our national future. Down through the decades we have had our indentured servants, our slaves, and Simon Legrees, our sweated immigrants, our Okies, our depressed and discouraged folk of many stripes. But we have been unfailingly confident of winning through all obstacles to realize our dream.
     Third, Americans have always been willing to experiment. With no feudal inheritance, with little dead weight of caste, or tradition, we have ever been in the mood for bold adventure. Our forefathers would have tossed aside old associations and crossed the seas without it. New frontiers have always seemed unfolding on our horizon.
     With these basic considerations, and because of them, the pace of change in this land has been faster than anywhere else on the globe. The change has been less noisy and melodramatic than in Russia or China, among others, for since 1865 it has lacked any real elements of violence. We believe in progress by evolution, not revolution. But for precisely this reason the progress has been deeper, saner, and more continuously rapid. In our energy, our resourcefulness, and our powers of organization, we can assert that the United States has been, and is, the most dynamic nation in history.
     Since this is so, why then our current widespread sense of staleness, of frustration; why the gnawing feeling that we may have lost our way?  In my mind there are two broad answers.
     One is that the very abundance which our dynamism has created has weaned and wooed us from the tough condition in which, heretofore, we have approached whatever it is we have had to do. A man with extra fat will look doubtfully on attempting the 4-minute mile; a nation replete with goods and services, confident that "there's more where that came from," may feel less ardor for questing.
     The second answer is that we have, of late, lacked the leadership we require - human frailty being what it is - to remind us of our national purpose, to direct its shaping for current ends, to spur us to new efforts, to encourage and, if need be, to exhort.
     In his stirring speech at Queen's Hall in London, seeking World War I volunteers, David Lloyd George, soon to be Britain's Prime Minister, described a snug valley in his native Wales. Nestled between the mountains and the sea, shielded from the storms and stresses of the outside world, that little valley offered its inhabitants a placid and sheltered life. But on occasion, Lloyd George recalled, the young men of the valley would refuse to stay put. They would climb its highest hill to be inspired by the majestic peaks in the distance, to have their energies sharpened by the mountain breezes.
     Too many Americans in the 1950's, I believe, have been living too much of the time in such a valley. We have felt contented and complacent and comfortable. Now it is time once again to climb to the hilltop, to be reinvigorated and reinspired by those faraway peaks, the principles that are vital to our national greatness, that underlie our national purpose, that foster our "American dream."
     Whether we see them or not, those peaks never change. Whether we remember it or not, their meaning never diminishes.
     Thus the task that lies ahead is not to create a new national purpose, but to try to recapture the old one. This is no call to retrogression, for this purpose, born 184 years ago, will be as noble and as fresh 184 years hence - and beyond.
     It is those same old slogans and same old solutions, surrounding the national purpose, that we must guard against. The old ways will not do. They cannot do. The Census Bureau predicts that, if the present curve of growth continues, our population will reach 260 million in only 20 years. When we think of how this increase alone will clothe all our problems in growing urgency, we know that when we once again seize hold of our purpose, we will have to do so with new ideas and new vigor.
     Where and how do we apply our national purpose to the challenges of 1960 ?
     Survival is often listed as the major challenge today, and certainly other issues are overshadowed by the one issue that could render the rest moot. But although our physical safety as a nation is more imperiled than ever before in our history, survival alone is insufficient as an expression of national purpose. Mere physical survival, at the cost of our way of life, would be worth little; more importantly, survival alone is hardly an aspiration worthy of a great nation. The nobleman who, when asked what he did in the French Revolution, replied, "I survived," may have been hailed for his wit but for little else.
     We remember too seldom that survival is threatened not only by ever more awesome weapons of death and destruction but also by a lack of aim and aspiration. Outside the walls of every nation that has grown fat and overly fond of itself has always lurked a lean and hungry enemy.
     Competition with that enemy is today deemed by some to be our major challenge; but it, too, reflects our national purpose inadequately. We are, indeed, in competition with the Soviets, and to a large extent our hopes for the future rest on our comparative efforts in economic growth, in the arms race, in scientific achievement, in aid to other nations, in propaganda, in prestige and in a host of other fields.
     But we will err tragically if we make competition with the Communists an end in itself. Whatever we do in the name of that competition - improving our race relations, expanding our economy, helping new nations, exploring outer space, and all the rest - we ought to be doing anyway, for its own sake, whether competition exists or not.
     Peace is humanity's deepest longing, and with the failure to achieve it all other aspirations fail too. In acclaiming it as the major expression of our national purpose, however, we must know what sort of peace we mean. Certainly the unjust peace of subjugation, the uneasy peace of cold war or the fruitless peace of an interval between hot wars is far from a goal that will satisfy.
     Prosperity, like peace, is desired by all, and our political orators have traditionally held out the goal of personal and national economic well-being as a primary American aim. But the good life falls short as an indicator of national purpose unless it goes hand in hand with the good society. Even in material terms, prosperity is not enough when there is no equal opportunity to share in it; when economic progress means overcrowded cities, abandoned farms, technological unemployment, polluted air and water, and littered parks and countrysides; when those too young to earn are denied their chance to learn; when those no longer earning live out their lives in lonely degradation.
     No single one of these four challenges - survival, competition, peace, prosperity - sums up our national purpose today. The creation of a more perfect Union requires the pursuit of a whole series of ideals, ideals which can never be fully attained, but the eternal quest for which embodies the American national purpose:
     The fulfillment of every individual's dignity and potential.
     The perfection of the democratic process.
     The education of every individual to his capacity.
     The elimination of ignorance, prejudice, hate, and the squalor in which crime is bred.
     The elimination of slums, poverty, and hunger.
     Protection against the economic catastrophes of illness, disability, and unemployment.
     The achievement of a constantly expanding economy, without inflation or dislocation, either in the factory or on the farm.
     The conquest of dread diseases.
     The enrichment of American culture.
     The attainment of world peace and disarmament, based on world law and order, on the mutual respect of free peoples and on a world economy in which there are no "have-not" or "underdeveloped" nations.
     A dream? Of course - the American dream. No candidate for office, unless he were foolish or deceitful, would promise its fulfillment. But we are in urgent need of public men who will work toward its fulfillment, guiding, directing, and encouraging the popular impetus toward that end.
     That this impetus exists is beyond question. We are not a people in panic or despair. We have not "gone over the hill" of history. We have simply, and fortuitously, begun to recognize that somehow we have gotten off the track, and that to get back on we will need stern effort, spirited leadership, and common sacrifice.
     If we are to recharge our sense of national purpose, we should accept no invitations to relax on a patent mattress stuffed with woolly illusions labeled peace, prosperity, and normalcy. We should congratulate ourselves not for our country's past glories and present accumulations but for our opportunities for further toil and risk. Rather than take satisfaction in goals already reached, we should be contrite about the goals unreached. We ought not to look for excuses in the budget, but for justifications in the dizzying rush of events and in the harsh realities of our time.
     For these are harsh times. The future will not be easier. Our responsibilities will not lessen. Our enemies will not weaken. We must demonstrate that we can meet our responsibility as a free society - that we can by voluntary means match their ruthless exploitation of human, natural, and material resources - that freedom cannot only compete and survive but prevail and flourish.
     It is not enough to debate "What is the meaning of America?" Each of us must also decide "What does it mean to be an American?" Upon us destiny has lavished special favours of liberty and opportunity - and it therefore has demanded of us special efforts, particularly in times such as these.
     It requires each one of us to be a little more decent, alert, intelligent, compassionate, and resolute in our daily lives - that we exercise our civic duties, whether paying taxes or electing Presidents, with extra pride and care - that we use our freedom of choice to pursue our own destiny in a manner that advances the national destiny, in the work we produce, the subjects we study, the positions we seek, the languages we learn, the complaints we voice, the leaders we follow, the inconveniences we endure.
     If a dark corner of Africa needs technicians - if a troubled spot in Asia needs language specialists - if a Soviet threat in Berlin requires patience and determination - if the space race requires better schools - we must and can demonstrate that the dedicated efforts of free men can meet these needs better than the efforts of totalitarian compulsion.
     Every American must take far more seriously than he has in the past decade his responsibility for achieving and maintaining a democratic society of a truly model kind, worthy to be the champion of freedom throughout the world.
     We Americans must again commit ourselves to great ends. We must resume our searching, surging, questing. Then, assuredly, we will come nearer the vision of John Adams of Massachusetts, who, in 1813, assured his friend, Thomas Jefferson, that our Republic would someday "introduce the perfection of man."


[LIFE, Aug. 29, 1960, pp. 87, 88, 91, 93, and 94]

REPUBLICAN CANDIDATE ON NATIONAL PURPOSE

"OUR RESOLVE IS RUNNING STRONG"

By Vice President Richard M. Nixon

     It is particularly appropriate that Life has stimulated a comprehensive reexamination of our national purpose at a time when the American people are making some important decisions about their future, as they are in the election of a new President.
     A common denominator of agreement among the eminent contributors to this series is that the Nation has mounted insufficient response to the Communist challenge to free society.
     We can all agree that we have never faced a more formidable challenge. Yet contrary to some of the other viewpoints which have been presented, it is my belief that never has the American purpose been more clear.
     For me the discussion has served the very useful function of pointing up the difference between interest and purpose. Some of those who have participated seem to have been talking mostly about interests; others were truly dealing with the more elusive thing which we can recognize as purpose.
     That there is a difference between the two was recognized by a man who was caught up in one of the several reexaminations of our national purpose which have already taken place in this century. Woodrow Wilson noted prophetically just before the struggle over the League of Nations, "Interest does not bind men together. Interest separates men." Only purpose, Wilson said, can unite men.
     Since we are now engaged in a national political campaign, it is well to keep in mind this difference between interest and purpose. In the Wilsonian sense an interest is an end peculiar to a group or individual. It is the kind of end sought by what we call an interest group.  It is not an end that recommends itself for general adoption; it sets no goal that can unite a whole people. Such a goal Wilson called purpose.
     Too often we wage our political campaigns and evaluate our national posture in terms of interests. Too often the parties put forth platforms, and the candidates make campaign promises, which seek a mere compromise of conflicting interests, which propose some "splitting of the difference." Would it not be more in keeping with our best tradition if we sought a larger purpose within which our separate interests could be unite in a more elevated conception of our destiny? Fundamentally, purpose must be examined in terms of what an entire people can regard as the ends of human existence and their relation to the external universe and to God.
     The first problem in reexamining national purpose, then would be to separate interest from purpose. The second would be to distinguish purpose from fulfillment.
     If our purpose, as I believe it does, comes from a higher authority than ourselves, we still retain the responsibility. It rests with us, as men, and as a nation, whether we will or will not fulfill our purpose. From this point on when I speak of national purpose I will mean both the purpose that should unite us and the dedication of mind and spirit necessary to achieve it.
     Life's editor in chief said before a Senate committee recently:

     The founding purpose of the United States was to make men free, and to enable them to be free and to preach the gospel of freedom to themselves and to all men. That purpose has withstood all manner of trial and tribulation, stress and strain.
     While I concur that this has proved to be the American purpose reduced to its purest terms, we should remind ourselves that it was not unmistakably so at the time. At the very least we should differentiate between the stated purpose and the processes of fulfillment which are revealed in the continuing thread of our history. Capability, as well as intent to fulfill purpose, is and always has been part of this unfolding destiny.
     Stated in the more practical terms which then obtained, the founding purpose was to establish in the new land a society founded on principles of equality under God, dedicated to the general welfare and the blessings of liberty. These were the stated purposes written into the charter documents by the Founding Fathers - philosophers whose collective wisdom under stress we find so worthy of emulation today.
     But while Jefferson said we act not "for ourselves alone, but for the whole human race," we know that the English colonies struggling for survival between the wilderness and the sea - a sea open to the warships of predatory monarchies - had not the capability to make all men free. We also know that the founders did not even have the intent to make all men free because they established the United States, partially at least, as a slave society.
     Moreover the founders suffered agonizing uncertainties and soulsearching doubts as they went about the fulfillment of the eat purpose, of which we can now see that they were seized. As late as the year 1774 so well-informed a man as Benjamin Franklin could say in all seriousness that he "never had heard in any conversation from any person, drunk or sober, the least expression of a wish for a separation" from England.
     We now know that even as Franklin said these words, the American sense of purpose was running at full tide. In no time, as we reckon these things, independence had been declared and a war to confirm it was in progress.
     Today we look back to the author of the Declaration of Independence as a man truly aware of the purpose that was flowing around him. Yet at the time even he was writing, in his "Notes on Virginia," in almost the exact vein of several of these modern essays on national purpose:
     From the conclusion of this war we shall be going downhill. It will not then be necessary to resort every moment to the people for support. * * * They will forget themselves, but in the sole faculty of making money, and will never think of uniting to effect a due respect for their rights.
     The people did unite. They did rise above their material self-interest. The Constitution was written and adopted including, in the end, the Bill of Rights.
     Fifty years later the Americans were speaking of a manifest destiny. The new Nation had begun to be stirred by the technological revolution which has changed the world. The age of Jackson brought the rise to prominence of the common man, politically and economically. The word "democracy" was becoming respectable. The United States could feel its muscle, and its face was turned westward.
     But again, not all saw it so. One particularly prominent essayist of the time saw a serious absence of purpose and a dangerous national tendency to materialism. Americans, Emerson wrote, spent their money on trifles and lost themselves in seeking "after fine garment, handsome apartment, access to public houses and places of amusements." He detested what he called the mediocrity which he saw about him and wanted us to be "away with this hurrah of the masses."
     There was a difficulty about democracy, but it was not the chasing after fine garments and handsome apartments. It was the revelation of a fundamental conflict in the Constitution.
     As the westward movement continued, the ever present, over-riding question was: Shall the new territory be free or slave? By the middle of the 19th century this unresolved question of purpose clearly threatened to destroy the American dream.
     The issue was irreconcilable. William Lloyd Garrison and the antislavery society held:
     The right to enjoy liberty is inalienable. * * * Every man has a right to his own body - to the products of his own labor - to the protection of law - and to the common advantages of society.
     Against them Calhoun argued:
     It is a great and dangerous error to suppose that all people are equally entitled to liberty. It is a reward reserved for the intelligent, the patriotic, the virtuous and deserving - and not a boon to be bestowed on [those incapable] either of appreciating or of enjoying it.
     From the national dialog one would conclude the American purpose was muddy and confused.
     A sure grasp of the right seemed to fail even Lincoln, who was obliged to confess as the slavery issue was joined, "If all earthly power were given me, I should not know what to do as to the existing institution."
     Slowly, reluctantly, but nonetheless inexorably, the answer came to him. He declared the Negro slaves emancipated.
     It might have been said, as the Civil War ended and the bitter Reconstruction began, that the national purpose was finally to make all Americans free, and by example, to encourage the spread of freedom on earth. But not yet could it be said that America was ready to act to make all men free.
     With the obstruction of slavery removed, the Nation exploded again to the westward - over the Continental Divide to the western ocean. The expansion was coupled with industrialization. For the next three decades our people pursued their separate but converging interests with a vigor unparalleled in history.
     Opportunity was the watchword in America and its sound exerted a pull on the entire Western world.
     The poet's inscription for the Statue of Liberty ("Give me your tired, your poor") truly represented an invitation which was heard round the world. They came, by the hundreds, by the thousands, ultimately by the millions: Irish, Germans, Italians, Scandinavians, Poles, Slavs, and many others.
     The preoccupation with the western expansion, with the industrialization, increased.
     Our political men fell under the influence of the spell of economic conquest. The public dialog became strongly flavored with arguments - for example, about the survival of the fittest - that bore little resemblance to the purpose of making men free.
     America abruptly entered the 20th century on a new tack. If we had lost our national purpose, we seemed to have found it again. The public dialog began to accentuate again the voices addressed to the general welfare and the blessings of liberty, to government by law and not by men, to faith in government by the people.
     Theodore Roosevelt became the man of the hour by denouncing the malefactors of great wealth and by reinforcing his words with actions to restrain their arrogance.
     The only safe course
he warned--
     to follow in this great American democracy, is to provide for making the popular judgment really effective. When this is done, then it is our duty to see that the people, having the full power, realize their heavy responsibility for exercising that power aright.
     The surge of annexation ended and the United States became the first Western power, of those which had tasted its fruits, to renounce colonialism.
     A voice speaking again with the ringing tones of freedom suddenly echoed over the world.
     The world must be made safe for democracy. Its peace must be planted upon the tested foundations of political liberty. * * * But the right is more precious than peace, and we shall fight for the things which we have always carried nearest our hearts - for democracy, for the right of those who submit to authority to have a voice in their own governments for the rights and liberties of small nations, for a universal domination of right by such a concert of free peoples as shall bring peace and safety to all nations and make the world itself at last free * * *. America is privileged to spend her blood and her might for the principles that gave her birth.
     Those words from Wilson's war message of April 1917 - which pointed a new direction toward fulfillment of the American purpose to make all men free - were often mocked in the disillusioned 1920's and 1930's. But they proved to be fully valid in the fourth and fifth decades of the century when the always recurring assaults on freedom came from across the Rhine in 1940 and Yalu in 1950.
     The American resolve to spend her might for freedom has been even more recently tested and not yet has it been found to waver. Nor, I predict, will it ever be, so far as any of us living can foresee.
     In my opinion we are definitely and demonstrably a young country. We can, I am confident, put aside for this century as far as America is concerned, Professor Toynbee's image of a dead civilization which has only its artifacts, covered with jungle vine or sand blasted in the desert sun, to recall it.
     We have the vigor and imagination of youth. We are ready to go ahead and explore new approaches. We are a society of individuals. Our institutions project outward from people, not downward to people. The individual initiates, society imitates. The individual follows his endless curiosity, society builds roads that follow his footprints.
     Our institutions are the creations of individuals and groups of individuals. They are not ordered into existence by the state. We have no state socialism. We have no state religion. We have no state aristocracy. Our schools - whether they be public or private - remain enterprises shared by men and women actively interested in them.
     Our businesses - commercial, industrial, agricultural, and professional - number more than 10 million, 10 million separate ventures which voluntarily serve society and are voluntarily accepted by society. Our capitalists are not the few but the many. There are more than 12½ million shareholders in American business, more of them women than men. Many of our larger corporations have, in fact, more shareholders than employees.
     There are in addition, tens of millions of indirect capitalists. Every person taking out an insurance policy, contributing to a pension plan, or putting his money in a bank is indirectly investing in America.
     We are also a nation of land capitalists - we have no landed aristocracy. More than 60 percent of American families own their own homes.
     Our technology is surging ahead so fast that it is hard to perceive just what breakthrough in industrial productivity the immediate years ahead will bring, what 10 years will bring, or 15, or 20. Let those who blithely tell us what the gross national product of the United States or the U.S.S.R. will be in 1965, 1970, or 1975 ponder the evidence recently submitted by the Stanford Research Institute to the Senate Foreign Relations Committee.
     The institute reminded us that even the most sophisticated predictions can go sadly awry. For example, a report to the National Resources Committee in 1937 tried to anticipate "the kinds of new inventions which may affect living and working conditions in America in the next * * * 25 years" - or by 1962. In this report most of the major technological developments between 1937 and now were completely unforeseen, despite the fact that many of the Nation's then leading scientists and engineers had been consulted in its preparation. The 1937 report, for instance, anticipated certain developments in vitamins and synthetic drugs, but was silent on antibiotics. There was a long section on power, but not a single gazer into the future envisioned atomic energy. Communication was treated at length, but there was no hint of radar. Aircraft speeds of 240 miles at 20,000 feet were predicted, but on condition that the problem of cabin pressurization could be solved. Jet propulsion was not even mentioned.
     It has been argued in some of the essays on national purpose, just as Emerson argued in the last century and Jefferson argued in the century before, that America is threatened by preoccupation with materialism and that we suffer a major cultural crisis. There is little doubt that our level of appreciation for art and literature leaves much to be desired, but it is my sincere conviction we are only at the beginning of our cultural thrust.
     So far, our unique achievement has been the political achievement. We still have to equal the contributions to the fine arts, to philosophy, and to unlocking the fundamental secrets of the universe which have been our heritage from the older societies. But I suggest that the greatest American achievements in these fields lie ahead. Even now we see all about us - in art gallery, in symphony hall, in scientific laboratory - new creative activity in every branch of human aspiration. And all our accomplishments, along with those of other times and countries, are immediately made available to all Americans through our unrivaled channels of print and electronics.
     We cannot yet determine the full implications of the effect of massive cultural exposure on national taste and creativity. There is no previous example.
     More important, in my judgment, than any of these other descriptions of our society is that we are openly prepared to share it with the world. We are, in this respect, comparable to the society which generated the creativity of the Hellenic civilization.
     As Pericles said of his beloved Athens:
     We throw open our city to the world, and never by alien acts exclude foreigners from any opportunity of learning or observing, although the eyes of an enemy may occasionally profit by our liberality; trusting less in system and policy than to the native spirit of our citizens.
     Finally, I believe we often fail to see the full dimensions of our Nation's purpose. In my opinion the truth is that the American purpose has continued to broaden as the country has matured and our capabilities have grown. We can see the process in retrospect, in the painful separation from England, in the establishment of government of the people, in the bloody eradication of slavery, in the great expansion and technological adaptation, in the renunciation of conquest, in the willingness to fight for freedom anywhere in the world.
     I have a deep conviction that the American purpose is running strong in the 1960's.
     I am struck by the fact that in the 15 years since the Communist challenge emerged in full force out of the ashes of World War II, the American people have been the principal effective force to keep it from overrunning the world. They have levied upon themselves the immense sum of $565 billion to preserve the security of the free world and contain the military threat of communism. American forces have stood guard along the frontiers of communism around the world in numbers never before sent forth by a nation for the general security.
     If there have been moments of doubt and reversal, we should remember that the American Nation has dealt with a threat to freedom more virulent than any which has existed in human history and continues to deal with this threat day by day. I doubt that a greater dedication, with or without the urgency of open warfare, can be found in our own history or in that of any other people.
     So much for what we are and what we have done to fulfill our national purpose.
     It can never be said that we have done enough while Communist power exists in such magnitude as to threaten the total end of freedom and of humanity itself.
     Several of the contributors to this series have called for action to strengthen the American purpose so that we may more adequately meet this threat.
     Dr. Graham called upon the American people as individuals to look particularly to their fitness, their courage, and their moral strength. I know of no better place to begin and I truly hope his message has been heard.
     Mr. Gardner, in an eloquent plea for the pursuit of excellence, says:
     When we raise our sights, strive for excellence and dedicate ourselves to the highest goals of our society, we are enrolling in an ancient and meaningful cause: the age-long struggle of man to realize the best that is in him.
     Certainly he and Dr. Graham have supplied ringing answers to the question: "What can I do?"
     I believe that we should also take special account of General Sarnoff's call for "an unequivocal decision" to win the cold war and his point that news of this be plainly told to the world.
     Mr. Luce, in his own statement on national purpose, delivered as testimony to the Senate Committee on Government Operations, accepted General Sarnoff's proposition as his own, with an amendment. In the atomic age, he suggested, no nation capable of launching a war of annihilation can be presented with the alternative of unconditional surrender. He proposed a more limited aim: severance of the state power of Russia and China from the mission of their present rulers to communize the world.
     We all know that the struggle with communism must be fought without atomic war. Mr. Khrushchev himself knows that, though he has yet to convince his Chinese partner, Chairman Mao who openly has foreseen a Communist victory, and more probably a Chinese Communist victory, from a war of general annihilation. Khrushchev in this instance is right and Mao is wrong. No one, not even the Chinese nation, will survive a general atomic war.
     It is, therefore, essential to the American purpose that atomic war must be prevented. I know of only two ways this can be assured by the maintenance on our part of invulnerable military strength, or by honest disarmament. Until the latter is within our grasp, we cannot temporize with the former.
     It is essential to the American purpose that communism shall not be permitted to spread.
     These are negative aspects of our national purpose to which not only most Americans, but most of the free world will subscribe. They are, as Wilson said, purposes which unite men.
     Beyond this, and insofar as God grants us power to see these things, I believe we are even now witnessing a further broadening of national purpose for achievement of affirmative goals which will also unite us.
     Since the end of World War II the core of American foreign policy has been support of the United Nations. Immediately second have been our efforts, still widely debated among us, to give strong economic support to the free nations. We have gone to the relief of distressed populations, rehabilitated the shattered economies of our allies and former enemies alike.
     We have assisted the technological adaptation of the emergent societies. In all of these programs one can find self-interest. In fact, they have often been defended as such by their hard-pressed supporters in Congress. It could be argued that we have merely been stimulated by the Communist challenge. I prefer, as an American, to think these things would have come if communism had never spread beyond the pages of Marx and Engels.
     Moreover, it is my belief that there is something more fundamental here than interest. We have already converted more than $78 billion from our own uses for these efforts, and they are certain to continue.
     Most of us know instinctively that there is no more important human event occurring today than the revolution of expectations among the peoples of newly emerging nations, representing a third of the human race and uncommitted as between the free world and the Communist tyranny.
     It is my firm belief that it is America's national purpose to extend the goals of the preamble of our Constitution to our relations with all men. At this point I should like to repeat these propositions:
     Form a more perfect union.
     Establish justice.
     Insure domestic tranquillity.
     Provide for the common defense.
     Promote the general welfare.
     Secure the blessings of liberty for ourselves and posterity.
     Four of these six goals communism purports to offer mankind. That is why their cause has wide appeal. In place, of two of them, justice and liberty, they demand a social discipline enforced by  tyrannical state power.
     I am as certain as I am certain of anything in life that these propositions were not conceived in the minds of men solely or unaided, and that they are inseparable. I am also certain that the inseparability applies not to ourselves alone but to all mankind.
     I believe that the inseparability of these propositions from human destiny is the American purpose and that it will prevail.