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A Rhetorical Analysis of John F. Kennpdy's Address tn the Americ~n Society of Newspaper Editors by
Reth S. Bennett
Comrleted in r"ay 1974 fvlfi I ling the re~uirements for
ID 499
Honors Thesis Director
Dr. Celia A. Dorris

A Rhetorical Analysis of John F. Kennedy's Address to the American Society of Newspaper Editors
I., Introduction
A. Justification for study
1. significance
2. rhetorical problems previewed
B. Purpose and scope of analysis
C. Method of analysis
1. definition
2. reason for choice
D. Avai labi I ity of material
I I. Establishment of the Scene
A. Image of the speaker
1. political scene and climate
2. personal rhetorical problems
3. specific purposes
B. Analysis of the aUdience(s)
1. the voting public
2. political leaders
3. the newspaper editors
4. people of West Virginia
I I I. Examination of the Rhetoric
A. The strategy of direct and open attack
B. The strategy of clarification
C. The strategy of fair play
IV. Conclusion
A. Immediate effects
B. Evaluation of the rhetoric
V. Bibliography and Notes

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A Rhetorical Analysis of John to th~ Americ~n Society of
F. Kennedy's ~ddress
Newspaper Editors
1.
2.
3.
4.
Introduction •••••.
· . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Justificc:d;on for study •• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 1
Purpose and score of aralysi of analysis.
Availability of rnaterial
.............................
.4
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. 7
Esteb Ii shrnc:nt of the Scene.
· . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
10 of the sreaker •••••.•
· . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.
. . . . . .
. . . .
10
Analysis of the audience(s) ••••••.••.•••••••••.••.••• 19
Examination of the Rhetoric . . • . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
.27
The strategy of dirf:'ct and open attack.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
.27
The strategy of cI2.rific8.tion.
.
The strategy of fair play ••••.
. . . . .
. . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.35
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.41
Conclusion ••.••.••
·
Immediate effects.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.49
·
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
• 49
Evaluation of the rhetoric •.••••••••••••••••••••••••• ~1
Bibliography.
. . . .
No tes ••••••••
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
.53
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• 56
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I. Introduction
Fourteen years ago Americans were witness to the rapid political growth of a young, good-looking Bostonian who was then proposing to run for the office of President of the
United States. To do so, he had to win the Democratic nomination over influential party candidates such as: Lyndon
Johnson, Hubert Humphrey, Stuart Symington, and Adlai Stevenson. The man--John Fitzgerald Kennedy--did succeed in winning not only the Democratic nomination, but also the Presidential office itself and went on to become one of the most noted political personalities in American history.
Kennedy's victory, however, was not an easy one. From the offset, his 1960 Presidential political campaign promised to be a true test of determination and political skill. He had to prove to the De~ocratic party and to the nation through the Presidential primaries that he could win the people's vote. At that time his public image consisted of many factors: he was young, wealthy, good-looking, politically inexperienced, a war hero, and he was a ROMan Catholic.
1
Although some of these traits could serve as political assets, others were definite political liabilities. Probably his most significant handicap was his Roman Catholic religion. ~s the second
Catholic ~n history to become a serious contender for the
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2.
Presidency, his maln goa! was to demonstrate to the influential
Democratio party leaders that he could attract public support despite his religion. He needed this vote of confidence to show that unlike AI Smith in 1928, he could win and that they would be smart to nominate him.
2
Only through a direct confrontation with the voting public--through the priMary route-could he demonstrate this support to the Democratic party leaders.
Not 1aving any serious opposition in the New Hampshire primary, Kennedy's first exposure to the religious issue was during thl;? i,.'lisconsin prinlary. The press and politicians were quick to note that the 32 percent Catholic population in
Wisconsin (considerably above the national average of 23 per cent) would work to his advantage. 3 Also, in Wisconsin, it was legal for party regulars to switch-over and vote for the other party during the primaries. Hence, many analysts were predicting that in the pri~ary, most Catholic Republicans would vote for Kennedy rather than for their uncontested candidate
Nixon.
4
These were the predictions, and they seemed to prove true. According to two of Kennedy's closest political associates, Kenneth p. O'Donnel I and
David F. Powers:
Kennedy won in Wisconsin with more popular votes than any candidate in the history of the state's primary carrying six of the ten Congressional districts and
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3. getting two-thirds of the delegate votes • • • • but it was not good enough for the experts, because Kennedy fai led to carry the three so-cal led Protestant districts
1n the western part of the state and lost to Humphrey in the Second District, around Madison, where we had expected to win. Kennedy's big popular vote was belittled because it came from strongly Catholic districts.
5
In effect, Kennedy's Wisconsin victory had placed him in a precariou~ position. He had defeated Humphrey but not soundly enough to erase the doubts concerning his vote-getting abi lity.
More importantly, his exposure in Wisconsin had awakened the religious issue and al I of the bigotry that accompanied it.
It was in this way, then, that the 1960 West Virginia primary became the primary of the total campaign. West
Virginia, 95 per cent Protestant and only 5 per cent Catholic, become Kennedy's " ma ke or break'! state.
6
He had to prove that his religion
\lJ8 s not an issue, that he could Itn n i n spite of it. Kennedy, therefore, sought for some way to identify with and to make his religion Acceptable to the people of
West Virginia and the nation.
AlthJugh he had often denounced the ~Iigious issue as irrelevant to the real issues of the campaign to both politicians and the press, Kennedy's views had not been full~1 exposed to the votin~ public. His opportunity came, however, on Apri I
21, 1960, when in the midst of the crucial West Virginia

4. prlmary, Kennedy addressed the Ampric~n Society of Newspaper
Editors sp2cifical lyon the subject of his religion. This speech represented the first ful I exposition of his views on church and state. He confronted the editors knowing full v,!ell that not only would his success affect directly the West
Virginia primary, but also I.>lould affect his future treatment by the press and ultimately by the voting public.
This speech, then, givn by one of America's greatest political figures at a time that was extremely critical for his immediate success and his future career is the subject of this analysis. The primary purpose of this analysis is to examine and to evaluate the major rhetorical strategies used by Kennedy in his attempt to minimize the stigma surrounding his religion. In view of the situation and Kennedy's particular rhetoric~1 problems, this analysis wi I I focus on what Kennedy was trying to do, the persuaslve methods he used to do it, and the probable effects of his rhetoric.
The critical framework for the analysis of this speech utilizes the Burkeian concepts of "irJentification" and tlstrategy."
To Kenneth Burke, identification was the route to persuasion and meant that things or people, different in other ways, may have one common factor in which they are consubstantial or substanti :illy the same. Burke consi ders thi ngs to be consubstantial if they ar~ unite~ or identified in comm0n interests, concepts, or attitudes. ~mphasizing this point, Burke sa;d,

5.
"You persuade a man only insofar as you can talk his language by speech, gesture, tonality, order, image, attitude, idea, identifying your ways with his."1 Identification, however, is not synonomous with the idea of being identical or exactly the same with one's audience. Burke makes this distinction clear.
A is not identical with his colleague, "B." But insofar as their interests are joined, A is identified with B.
Or he may identify himself with B even when their interests are not joined, if he assumes that they are, or
1S persuaded to believe so.
. . .
In being identified with B,
A is substant i a I I y one wi th a person other than hi mse If.
Yet at the same time he remains unique, an individual locus in motives. Thus he is both joined and separate, at once a distinct suhstance and consubstantial with another. 8
This distinction between identification and being identical must be understood before either concept can be used effectively in analysis.
The concept of "identification," therefore, deals with the speaker's deliberate attempt to shape his proposals according to the attitude and needs of his audience and his counterproposals according to their dislikes.
The speaker operates within a given frame of reference, amonq men affi I iated \,yith relatively harmonious groups.

6.
The politician speaks to his constituents, the generalhero to his countrymen, the Red Cross worker to his community • • • • identification
1S
;Jrirnarily a matter of invention: selection of topics and selection of develop~ental factors for proof, clarification, or appreciation.
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In other words, the speaker provides his audience with the appropriate "signs ll of identity within the speech. He achieves this, according to Burke, through rhetorical strategies. Rather than classifying an appeal as either emotional, ethical, or logical, it is analyzed as a kind of strategy. The critic is p r i rna r i I / i n t ere s ted i n h
0 1.;./ the a f! pea I fun c t ion s a san a d van tag eseeking action rather than to what de0ree it is logical, ethical, or emotional in its effects.
Traditionally, rhetorical critics have tried to discern the logical and emotional cOMponents of rhetoric, a task which often led to the placing of artificial boundaries between modes of appeal. The strategy, therpfore, may bp thought of as the speaker's method by which he hopes to modify a particular situation, a Dian of attack, or a way of solving a rhetorical problem.
10
This approach then is useful because it is a real istic yet flexible method of analyzing what the speaker had to do and the persuasive methods he used to do it.
For org2nizati Inal purposes, this thesis is divided into four parts: Part I. Introduction--dealing with justification
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7. of the study, purpose and score, methodology, and avai tabi lity of mater i a I. Part I I. Estab Ii shment of the Scene--reconstruction of the historical-pol itical setting--the relevent events leading up to the ~est Virginia primary, Kennedy's major rhetorical problems, his specific purposes in the address, and an analysis of his aUdience(s). Part I I I. Examination of the Rhetoric--a critical examination of Kennedy's persuasive strategies to effect identification with his listeners.
Part IV. Conclusion--reviewing i~mediate results and evaluating the probable effects--the success or fai lure--of the rhetoric.
The basic problem in analyzing Kennedy's speech is that very little critical material riealing dire~tly with this particular address has been published. However, the speech did take place during the West Virginia primary and a great deal of material has been published concerning i t and the previous Wisconsin primary. Therefore, it is possible to establish a sound rhetorical background and a basis for evaluation for the speech through the avai lable material.
Biographical information on Kennedy is abundant; however, to reconstruct the historical/political scene accurately, the critic must know the particular bias of the sources he is using. For this analysis, the follo~oJino ~ources were useful because of the amount of information they presented and because of the varying viewDoints they possessed. Kenneth IJ. O':onnell

8. and f)avid F. Powers, co-authors of Johnny W':' Harc'l'y Knew Ye, are extremely pro-Kennedy an r offered many valuahle insights concerning the "behin(' the scene ll campaign of Kennedy and his associates. Probably the mo~t anti-Kennedy viewpoint is presented by Victor Lasky, who
1S rather sympathetic to Hubert
Hum p h r e y, i n his b ()
0 k J. F. K.: The Man Q..C the H y t h • t~
0 s t of the other sources tend to be pro-Kennedy; although, Theodore
VJ hit e ' s The r·i a kin
CJ 0 f the Pre sid e n t I 960 , Jam e s ~1 a c
C; reg
0 r 8 urn s '
J
0 h n K e f1 n e..s!.Y. : fl fJ 0 lit i c
2.
I Pro f i Ie, and The
0
,lor e C. ~;
0 r ens en's
Kennerly presented fe.irly objective vie"Jpoints of the c:1.mpaign and of Kernedy himself. As to the people of West Vir£inia and the prim~ry itself, newspaper editor Harry Ernst offers good insight in his The Primary That Made A President: 'v est Vir
(1 i n i a
I
1960.
In writing this analysis, as many sources as possible were uti lized. The previously mentioned works, however, contain a ~reat deal of informqtion and used in conjunction with each other present a fairly clear picture of the political s c en e i n 1960.
The remainder of this analysis of Kennedy's address to the n e hi s P ;~ per e d ito r
S '.oJ i I I at t em p t toe x p lor e the val i d i t y
0 f o ' f) 0 nne I I'
S R n d Po
I:: e r s ' j u d 9 men t s
0 f Ken ned y , s I 960 pol i tic a I campaign, as they stated:
Kennedy won the Democratic Presidential nomination in
West Virginia, rather than at the national convention

9. in Los Angeles two months later, so you could say that
Hubert H. Hllmphrey nominated Jack by running against him in that primary and giving him that opportllnity to lick the religious issue in a showdown test that certainly must be a monumen t 1n merlcan po
1
1ca
I hlS ory • .

I I. Estab Ii shment of the Scene
Chapture I attempted to justify the significance of
Kennedy's address to the newspaper editors, especially the significarce of the religious issue and the timing of the speech during Kennedy's most crucial political test, the West
Virginia primary. In order to discover and analyze his rhetoric, it is first necessary to reconstruct the historical/ political scene and to examine his major rhetorical problems.
Only through such an analysis can the critic establish or discover his specific purposes for the speech.
To fully understand the political situation, a reVlew of the prfmary immediately preceeding i·fest Virginia, the
Wisconsin primary, must be glven. The Wisconsin primary was important both to Kennedy and to Humphrey because it was the first confrontation of two serious Presidential contenders.
Both needed public support to overcome the Democratic political machinery at the convention, and so both devoted a great deal of e-Ffort and money into their campalgns ln Wisconsin. 1
The "J12consin primi1ry was significant to Kennedy's campaign ':>ecause of the unciue attention it focused on the religious issue. Because it reported primari Iy the relioious asp e c t s
0 f the Ken ned y i mag e, the pre
S S ' .. I a s I a r gel y res,
0 n sib I e for this attention: pictures of Kennedy greeting a group of nuns,
10

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I I • student audiences asking questions relating to religion rather than to foreign or domestic policies, Kennerly's answers to questions c.ncerning his personal priorities, the religion o~o
Kennedy's supporters, and the classification of voters in
Wisconsin as Democrats, Republicans, or Catholics.
2
Kennedy himself commented on one Wisconsin newspaper that mentioned the word Catholic twenty times in only fifteen paragraphs.
3
According to Theodore Sorensen, the press credited over half of Humphrey's su~port to Kennedy's religion:
I t L:.~ her eli 9 i
0 us iss u fi7 lay heR v i I yon the min d s
0 f al I of Kennedy's listeners. It cropped up in every po II and press intervie"J. It gave rise to anti-Kennedy sermons in al I kinds of pulpits. Even the Humphrey campaign SO"£ was sung to the tune of "Give Me That Old
Time Religion.
H4
Clearly, Kennedy had to overcome the impact of the religious issue by winning strongly enough in Wisconsin's Protestant districts to discredit the assumed Catholic vote.
Howe v e r, rei i £ i
0 usb i got r y
VI a ::; run n i n 9 ram pan t , e s p e cia I I Y
In memory of the 1928 campaiGn of AI Smith. At that time, the campaign assumed the form of a debate between Catholics and Protestants. In 1928, the public was simply not ready for a rational and open discussion of,religion, as they fearerl Catholic dominRtion by the Pope. 5 Arparently, this fear and suspicion had not been erased during the interim.

12.
I n I 956
I
~(e nne d y n e (~ de d to dis pel t r, i s f ear
\oJ hen he s p
0 k e to the DeMocratic Convention for the Vice-Presidential nomination. He stated:
Besides, can't act as a private individual does; my responsibi lity
18 to my constituents and to the Constitution. So if it came to a conflict between the two, and not just a pc·rsona I mora I issue
I
I am bound to act for the interests of many.6
HowevCJr, ~:ennedy's st::1tement apparently had little effect on the
Democratic Convention and had no lasting effect on the voting public who were just beginning to be awakened to the religious issue in 1960.
When the campaigning closed in Wisconsin, the press was predictinO success for Kennedy, but as to the amount of success he would have, no one was certain. As the voting results came in, political analysts could not be certain whether or not Kennedy's success in certain districts was because t~ey were industrial and further away from Humphrey's home state of ~linnesota or because they were predominantly
Catholic.? The evidence became quite obvious, however, aft era I I the res u Its hi ere fin a liz e d • The
0 do r e \:i hit e not e d :
H e had los t
8.
I I f
0 u r pre d
0 min ant I y Pro t est ant dis t ric t s anrl had carried the unclassified one (the Seventh) only by a hair. His popular margin had come entirely from f
0 u r he a v i I y Cat h a I i car e a s -- the Six t h, i~ i 9 h t h, F
0 u r t h , and Fifth.B

13.
The rpsults seemed t8 demonstrate to everyone that Kennedy had w'n simply because he was a Catholic. In addition, because
\;j i s con sin a I I
0 \-, e d Rep ubi i can s t
0 c r
0 S s -
0 v era n d v
0 teD em
0 c rat i c in the primaries, many political leaders and Humphrey himself seempd to feel that these Catholic Republicans had been the difference between a victory and a loss for Kennedy.9
After the Wisconsin primary, many political analysts and journalists expressed opinions concerning its effect on the approaching Democratic convention in August. After evaluating the resul~s of the primary, journalist~ Walter Lippmann announced that: "There is no doubt that the rei igious issue was cen ra I and dec,slve. Lippmann was therefore advocating that the Democratic party solve their
(;i lemm;:1 concernlng the religious issue by nominating Kennedy ior the Vice-Presidency, rather than for the Presidency. In this way, h~ felt, the
~emocratic pJrty cnlJld avoid the question of bigotry and could
~Iso avoid the risk of defeat hy nominating a Catholic candidate for Presi dent. II
AlthoUGh attra(~tive to some political leaders, the
S u 9 9 est ion
It! a s not a t-;l I I a p pea I ; n g to Ken ned y • ~v e I I
OJ \1.1 3. r e of the c!e-Fe·:t he had sl!ffered in the ',Jisconsin prim:·ry and its implications for the nomination, Kennedy had to decide whether or not to risk entering the West Virginia primary against Humphrey. There were many reas ns against running in the primary:
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14.
I.) Kennedy was runnln0 the seme day in the Nebraska primary.
2.) He was running in the same areas that month 1n Maryland.
3. ) The' e was n n his tor; c a lim p
0 r tan c eat t a c h pdt
0 the \) est
Virginia primary. 4.) The people of West Virginia were not typical of the nation as a whole. 5.) At the Democratic
Con v e n t ion, the p rim a r you t com e i s not bin din 9
0 nth e \! e ~:> t
Virginia delegation, which is smal I anyway. 6.) Johnson and Symington, two unannounced candidates for the Presidency, had s t ron gpo lit i c a I tie sin \1/ est Vir gin i a -- Ken ned y did not. I 2
Despite these reasons, Kennedy also realized that Humphrey would be appealing to the people of West Virginia because of his long association with FDR, the liber?1 welfare program, and the labor unions--associations which most West Virginians
COll
I d i dent i fy wi th Rnd understand. 13
Apart from these reasons, Kennedy also realized the political impact of a victory in West Virginia. A victory there, with only a 5 per cent Catholic population, could demonstrate his political strength to influencial party leaders.
14
Kennedy established his political ma~hinery in West Virginia as far b a ': k a s I 958, and t r. e Lou H a r ri s polls i n Dec em b e r
0 f I 960 predicted success--Kennedy held a 70-30 margin over Humphrey.15
The problem arose after the Wisconsin primary when the Kennedy
Headquarters found the margin changed to a 40-60 split in favor of
Humphrey.
16
Why had the change occurred? The answer was simple. As his West Vir~inia advisors told Kennedy,

15.
"No one in West Virginia knew you were a Catholic in December.
Now they,now. 1I17
Therefore, in addition to the original politic31 problems he faced in poverty-stricken ~est Virginia, he also had to face the fears 0nd suspicions surrounding his religion recently awakened by the press, by national television, and especially by the previous Wisconsin primary. Since the men and women from West Virginia were beginning to learn the identity and reI igion of the major candidates, the tide had turned against Kennedy.
18
The total frustration Kennedy faced was expressed by his aides, O')onnel I and Powers, when they stF'ted:
Ov~rnight our whole situation in West Virginia had changed and a I I of the carefu I and hopefu I pi onn i ng for R successfu I campaign in this 'So'othern borl'er state, which \liould brinJ Kennedy into the Los Angeles convention as the leading contender, was on the brink of goinS down the drain. 19
In view of all of these factors, Kennedy advisors were strongly hoping that Humphrey would decide to withdraw from the prlmary, so th~t Kennedy could avoid the potential risk to his po
1 lca
I career.
20
Hump~rey, of course, did not withdraw from the primary.
There were, however, sevpral different factors influencing this decision. It was assumed by many political leaders that becRuse of the Wisconsin prim~ry, Humphrey could no longer be

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16. cnnsidere: 1 a serious contender for the candidacy. O'Donnell and Po h' c r s, a 10n;:J wit h rn any
0 the r s, poi n ted
0 u t t hat Hum p h r e y , s fai lure to carry his neighborin] state reflected his lack of support from the general public. Therefore, Humphrey had nothing to gain in West Virginia, and b~ getting involved 1n the religious issue, he might only succeed in destroying himself and Kennedy politically.21 Yet, Humiihrcy had I:Jon a moral vic tor yin VJ i s con sin, and the mo r e w; r n i n g she got abo u t \ve s t
Virgini?, the more determined he became.
22
At the same time, he was beainning to Get support and money from Stevenson-backers who wanted to see Kennedy knocked out of the running for the nomination. 23 With this support and his own determination,
Hum p h r e y dec I are d c h e e r f u I I Y t hat hew
0 u Ide n t e r the ~v est
Virginia primary, m'Jch to the dismay of the \<ennedy advisors. 24
Playing with such a stacked deck, who but Kennedy would not have given up the West Virginia primary in lieu of a more neutral one? With his Wisconsin victory credited to his religion, with Humphrey's ima~e more acceptable to West Virginians, with political leaders giving support to Humphrey in the attempt to stop Kennedy, and with his religion threatening to dectroy his public appeal, the situation looked grim. Yet, if he defeated
Hum!,hrey and if that victory reflected the :~trong support of
Protestant West Virginia, it coul~ mean his first significant step toward his major goal--the Presid~ntial nomination. Aside from this, the knowledge that unannounced contenders for the nomination

--
17. were silently slipping money and support to Humphrey for the purDose of defeating him caused his pride to stir and made him more determined to put up a good fight.
25
Apart from these rhetorical problems, Kennedy had additional obstacles. In West Virginia, unlike many other parts of the country, these problems were numerous. First, Kennedy was comparatively young. No one that young had ever been elected as Pr~sirlent, and no one within the past fifty years had even been nominated by the
In addition, his ;:ge \,!as a handicap in West Virginia becau'e of his lack of actual political experience, especially in comparison to the seasoned politici~n Humphrey. Kennedy did not have the support of organized labor, especially the United Mine \,·,jorkers. With some labor leaders already working for him, Humphrey definitely held the edge
union support.
27
Kennerly's background also threatened to be a problem. His intelligence, wealth, and New England background could serve to alienate him from the impoverished people of West Virginia.
According to Sorensen, the Democratic Convention had not nominated
New Englander for qui1e some time.
28
They would nee d a 9 rea t d e a I
0 f proof t hat i t
\,10 U
I d be ',c 0 r t h i t top I ace their faith in one now.
Finally, his m~.jor rhetorical probler:1 '.Jas his religion.
As Sorensen pointe:< out, n~lo member of that faith ho.d ever been elected President, nor after 1928, even been seriously d n
29
The religious problem affected his image throughout

18. the United states, but it was particularly important in West
Virginia. As ~ nemocratic leader of ~adlson, West Virginia stated: "Protestants h2ve nothing against K~nnedy. They t~ink he is intel lioent • • • But they are 0oin9 to vote
?gainst him. It's like they like woren, but they won't vote for them for public office.,,3() The publisrer of the Coal
Vc:lley Ne~'2. attempted to explain such a reaction. He claimed t hat
I'} est \f i r gin ian s w i I I v
0 tea g a ins t Ken n
€ d Y b e c a u ~, e
11 the y arc simply concerned ebout the domination of the Catholic church.,,31 In conjllnction with this, Kennedy had to do something to stop the press's insistence upon m2king the religious issue the major Issue in the campaign. handicap in \Vest Virginia, Kennedy seemed to have only two alternatives--he could continue to skirt the issue, 'r he could attack it openly and ~irectly by disclosing GrGuments against it. According to Sorensen, Kennerly's advisors were divided on the issue:
His l1. e nne d y
I
S7
\11 est Vir 9 i n i a a d v Iso r s sa i d t hat \!J est
Virginia was afraid of Catholics; the fear must be erased, the matter tackled frontally. Lou Harris, "dth his poll reports in hand, concurred. But most of the Kennedy
Wasrington Staff disagreed--r~ise no religious issue in public, they said, religion is too explosive. 32
After considering all the a'vice, Kennedy decided that the

19. most effective way of solving his problems would be to confront them openly. Specifica Ily, he had to convince his listeners of his independence of ecclesiastical pressures and remove their fe,-rs concerning his religion.
33
At the time, the Kennedy lead~rship did not realize that by forcing the ~eligious issue into the open was what
Kennedy needed to prove
. . hlS natlonal appeal.
34 .
H1S goal, then, was to win enou~h electoral votes before August to insure the nomination. For him, that was more difficult than the actual election in November. 35
Keeping his purposes and rhetorical problems in mind, it is necessary to examine the nature of his audience. An analysis of his audience must include not only his immediate listeners, but al I the different audiences he was appealing to: the newspaper editors, the people of West Virginia, the
Democratic political leaders, and the national voting public
1n c]eneral.
Followin::) his r:ecision to confront the religious issue openly in West Virginia, Kennedy had to find the mo~t strategic time 2nd :situation for di~;closing his vie1!Js. The opportunity he needed arose with his speech to the newspaper editors. If he were successful in his attempt to reduce the importance of the religious issue with the press, he could hope for public opinion to be shaped by the opinion of the press. Therefore, with this speech, Kennerly was expressing his views not only to the newspaper editors, but ~Iso to the general voting public,

-,
20. the Democratic porty leaders, and the people of West Virginia.
To b e sur e, a I I
\1 ere
V ita I i f h e ~.} ere t
0 \'J i nth e nom ina t ion and ultim'tely the Presirlency.
Throughout the nation there seemed to be a general misgiving over the possibi lity of a Catholic president and historians had not forgotten the unsuccessful attempt of AI Smith 1n
1928. ,Journc:dist, John B. Sheerin ominously p,edicted that,
The situation may change in the next few months but as of this moment,
\'/OU
I rJ
SAy that the Ameri can peop I e are unwi I ling to vote for a Catholic president • • • • the awful truth is that in this democracy where political immaturity is tragic, the majority of voters are not emotionally and psychologically mature enough to conquer bias 3nd cast a ballot for a Catholic. 36
To Kennedy, this Dossibi lity was disastrous because he needed rubl ic support to p'sh him successfully through the primaries, to win the nomination, Hnd to defeat Richard Nixon. Their support was vital at every stage of his campaign.
A few weeks before the presidential nominating convention of 1956, a Gallup poll
\-J2lS taken of almost 2,000 voters askiniJ the f () I I
0 'iJ i n 9 que s t ion : " I f you r p c' r t y nom i n' ted a
CJ e n era I I Y well qual ified man for IJresident this yei
1 r, .'"'.nd he happened to be a Catholic, would you vote for him?"37 The pol I produced these results: no, 5% don't know, and 1% no res p 0 n s e • For Ken ned y, t his Men t de f eat be ca use he
\,10 u I d automatic3.lly lose one-fourth of his own party's vote just

21.
. 3~~
Part of Kennedy's initial campaign strategy was based on the idea that if he won public support before they knew his religion, then they would be less likely to be affected by it.
39
UltiMately, however, the rei iUious lssue had to be faced, as Kennedy discovered. At this point, it was necessary to understand why the puhlic feared a Catholic president.
According to James G. Burns, the public did not object to
Catholici~;m in general.
What they did object to was the imposition on Catholics and non-Catholics alike of Catholic standards, through legislation and economic and political preSSUt-e, on education, censorship, marria~e and divorce, on medical prac:ices of contraception, legal abortion, and in other matters. And they objected to Catholic-backed laws that
\-\fOU
I d pi eree the ~\Ja I I separat i ng church and state, laws that provided, for example, for governmental aid to church schools.
40
Rerognizing these objections, Kennedy's goal had to be to prove to the public how strongly he believed in the separation o f c h u r c han d s tat e and h
0
\<', i f e I e c ted, h e f e I t his i nit i a I responsibility would be to his elected office.
Kennedy also had to be concerned about the opinion of influential Democratic party leaders for two main reasons.
First, Democratic leaders, mindful of the defeat in 1928, demanded some kind of ~ ~uarantee that Kennedy's religion was

22. not g0inC) to be
8. detriment to his campaign before he could be eve nco n sid f' red at the A
1I
9 u: t con v e n t ion i n Los )\ n gel e s • T his mea n t t hat u n I e s she v' ere ':~ b l e t \,ti n s t ron 9 pub I i c sur po r t in the primaries, influential party leaders would not be convinced that he could overcome his religious hanrlicap in the general election. S0condly, Kpnnedy wa~ concerned because high-rankin] Catholic office-holdArs were extremely hesitant abo u t s h
0
,-Ii n 9 him
8 n y kin d
0 f sup p
0 r t •
Their- stiltes "re only P,b0Ut one-qtF1rter to one-third ratholic, and they fear that a C~tholic in the W~ite
Hou~e, coming 0n top of a Catholic Governor and Catholics in m0ny lesser offices, mi]ht strain t~e tolerance of the Protestant majority and provoke a reaction that would injure their own political futures. Major Catholic of if ; c e -- hoi \; e r s a Iso
0 f t f' n h
(-l v (' I
0 c
0.
I pro b I ems w hie h the y fear
\;JOU
I d be c3.9CJravided if the i)crnocrats nomi nate i1
Catholic for the Presidency.41
Unless he could convince them that the public was ready to support a Cath01ic president without risking their own offices,
Kennedy could not count on their active support. sti I I another facet of Kennedy's audience had to be dealt wit h -- the pre s s • • tho u t the sur po r t
0 f the pre s s, Ken ned y , s attempts at shHping the opinions of the general public would be fut; Ie. Evon before he made his "ecision to confront the religious i,;sue, the press "Jas responsible for much nCCJative

23 public opinion by their continual concentration on that issue above 0.1 I others. The press has been credited with manufacturing the religious issue into " • • • the central political question of the campaign. The hate merchants and the prejudiced of both
were to flourish in this reporting.
II42
During the disconsin primary, especially, Kennedy found th::,t the press focused on the reli0iolJs aspects of the campaign rather than the polit"ical ones and credited his victory there to his Catholicism.
This same type of coverage was attempted again in West
Vir gin i a Iv her e ". • • most journalists overlooked the political forces at work and over-emphasized the Protestant heritage of
West Virginians, which they confused with the intensity of their religioucJ convictions.
I1
/.!3
Once Kennedy brought the issue out into the open, before the press and the people, the only issue left \<Iould s~'em to be one of tolerance versus intolerance.
The issue would then be left up to the people of jest Virginia to prove their tolerance by voting for Kennedy.
44
How tolerant were the people of West Virginia? What kind of Rna u die n c e
111 asK e nne d y fa c i n gin t his a I I - i f1'l
P
0 r tan t p rim a r y ?
Before the primary,
8 little, old lady from Sutton, West Virginia commented, "We've never hed a Catholic president and I hope we never do. Our people bui It this country. If they had wanted a Cat hoI i c to be pre sid en t , t
'.-j 0 U
I d h i1 ve sa ids
0 i nth e
Constitution.»45 If these feelin;s were indicative of the state as a whole, it was truly a miracle that Kennedy was

24. successful there. Ho\vever, journalists and politic?1 leElders may have over-emphasized the religious tendencies of that state.
A. c t u a I f i ~:
LI res s h
0 \.J t" a t tvJ
0 0 li t
0 f eve r y t h r e e 'I/J est Vir gin ian s v.Jere not aff; liated with any church. Of the total population, only 28 pe:,r cent were true I)rotestants, in comp rison to 5 per cent Catholics and less than I per cent JeltJs.
46
Accordinq to a West Virginian labor leader, itA great majority of our people are categorized as Protestants, but a goodly numher of them have no religious convictions at all. They Iso tend to s e p ~1 r :' t e the i r rei i (J ion fro m bus i n e s san d pol i tic s • It' s strictly a Sunday-type refigion.
n47
trds me,'nt in terms of Kennedy's campaign was th~t--yes, they were Protestant, but their convictions W0re not so strong that they could not be c han 9 e d • The pro b I e m ~-J a s t
II at the y
COLI
I d b e s \./ aye d e a s i I y in either direction. Kenne~y had to see that it was in the direction favorable to him.
The ~ eo i=' leo f,'') est Vir 2 i n i
C1. V.J ere ,ot the t y pic a I Am (' ric an s bye" n y mea n s • c:: con
0 m i c
8.
I I y, the y I,ve r e n ear the bot tom. As a state alr~:ost totally dependent on the coal mining industry ror its income, West Virginia was fast becoming poverty-stricken as the employment rate in the coal mines dropped rapidly. By
1960, at least 20 of Je~t Virginia's 55 counties claimed thAt
15 per cent of their residents were receivinu federal governMent aid. I n some c:')unt i es the percentage ranged from 25-50 per cent.
48
The econorric situation is im!'ortant rhetorically because of the effect it had on the people. Any candidate

25. promising employment and prosperity was strongly consirlererl over his opponents. ~est Virginians, t~emselves, fought over ava; lable jobs because any job l::loked better than none at a I I. lescribing th~
Theo';ore ;,jhite said: state of political affairs in ~est Virgina,
Pol itics in We3t Virginia is not only part-time jobs but fu I I-t i me goss i p, anrl it gets more intense as one descends the levels from statehOIJ~e to county courthouse, w her ,~ the I
0 c a I b
0 S S ;; S ,1 r e cst a b lis h ed, bar ens () f lit tie realms, forminrJ and breaking alliances. Politics ln
West Virginia involves money
. .
• C c: n b e v i a len t
. . .
;Jolitics in
Virginia is complicated.
49
P,is, the'l, \-Jas the political climate into which K~'nncdy ~vas e n t e r i n 9 • " ; i t h s tat e \v ide p
0 v e r t y and ~~ " r did pol i tic s, the primary would be rouc;:h for ?,ny candidate, but e~;pecially for
Kennedy with ~is wealthy, New England background and his
Catholic ''"eligion.
Yet, there was sti I I another side of the personality of the Jest Virginians. Unlike the usual stereotypes of the lower socia-economic classes, these people were attractive,
\<1 e I I man n
I;: red, and ext rem ely pro u d
0 f the n u m b e r
0 f res ide n t s who had vo I unteered for the m; I; tary, boast; ng of the; r numerous war heroes. 50
So, Kennedy needed to identify with the West Virginia people anrl to make his religion acceptable to them, to the

26. press, to the Democratic party leaders, and to the nation as a whole. His first atte~rt was with his speech to the newspaper editors. With his problems in mind and the historical scene set, it is now possible to begin an analysis of the rhetoric itself.

I I I. Examination of the Rhetoric
In his speech to the American Society of Newspaper Editors on Apri I 21, 1960, Kennedy's main purpose was to present a ful I exposition of hlS religious views in relation to his position as an elected official. In other words, his major objective was to discredit the religious issue in the Presidential campaign and to identify himself more closely with the voting public--especially the VJest Virginia people. To be s u c c e s sf u lin his at t e r:; p t, Ken ned y fir s t had to ide n t i f Y himself with his immediate aurlience--the newspaper editors.
To create a positive persuasive atmosphere, Kennedy tried to achieve identification with his audience through what appeared to be three major rhetorical strategies: a strategy of direct and open attack, a strategy of clarification, and a str~tegy of fair play. In this way, he h00eri to achieve his specific purposes and overcome his r h e tor i c a I pro b I ems. Ken ned y , s fir s t s t r (; t e (; y see me d to be one of dir~ect and o:;en attack. The strate~y seemed to function thro~gh three main appeals--direct disclosure, his audience's sense of resoonsibi I ity, and an appeal to reason.
Early in his speech, Kennedy directed his attack to his unfair treatment by the press. He pointed out their omission of import~nt political issues ~~ their attempt to focus on
27

28. irrelevant matters. He said, "I spoke in Wisconsin, for eXAm~le, nn farm legislation, foreign policy, defense, civi I rights, and several dozen other issues. But I rarely found the m rep
° r ted i nth e pre s s -- e x c e p t vJ hen the y we reo c cas s ion a I I y sandwiched in between descriptions of my hand-shaking, my theme-son'], family, haircut and, inevitably, my religion • .,1
He expanded the idea of the press' misguided attention by clearly stating his wi I lingness to discuss any issues with them, if/hiGh they in turn ignored. He continued, "At almost every st01 in Wisconsi~ I invited questions and the questions came--on prlce supports, labor unions, disengagement, taxes and inflation. But these eessions were rarely reported in the press except
one topic v-Jas discussed: religion.,,2
Kennedy seemed to be identifying with his national aud i ence and espec i a I I Y the pea::; I e of i;Ji scans in by d i sp I aying his distaste for such political manipul~tion by the press of himself and of the general public. In this way, the major portion of his alldience--the voting public, politicc1,1 leaders, ancl the people of '/fest Virginia--\<Jould hopefully bf' able to see that he was a sincere and couraaeous canclidate battling against the press for their ri~hts as wei I as his own. At the same time, not wishing to alienate himself from the press in his attack, Kennedy tried to ex~lain his objections to the press~ He sRid, "I think the voters of V./isclnsin objected to b~ing categorized simr1y ~s either Catholics or Protestants

29. in analyz;ng their political choices. I think they objected to be i n9 accosted by reporters outs i de of po lit i ca I meet i ngs and asked one question only--their religion--not their occupation or education or phi losophy or income--only their religion.,,3
was, in effect, pointing out to the editors that their coverage of the primary was unfair because it had violated the rights of the people of Wisconsin. Therefore, the editors, throuqh association ',vith the voters, hopefully wou!~ identify with his crusarle against future attacks of that nature.
Kennedy concluded the attack against the press by describing how the press had unfairly categorized the voters.
He stated::
One article, 1n a news magazine for exa~ple, supposedly summing the primary up in advance mentioned the word
Cathal ic twenty times in fifteen paragraphs--not mentioning even once dairy farms, disarmament, labor legislation or any other issue. And on the Sunday before the pr i mary, The r,,'ii I waukee Journa I featured a map of the state, listing county by county, the relative strength of three types of voters--Democrats, Republ icans, and
Catholics.
4
By dis c los i n~ ':' hat he dee rn e dun fa i r t rea t
P1 en t by the pre s s of himself as a political candidate and of the voting public,
Kennedy was openly attacking the press and consequently their

30. emphasis on the religious lssue. Yet, he was making the attAck m0re palatible for his immediate audience--the newspaper editors--by directly identifyinS with the public and the people of Wisconsin in their distaste for manipulation and cat ego r i z at ion by the pre s san d the p () lit i c a I
['I art i e s •
Consequently, if they a~sociated themselves with the general public, the editors would thereby change their diF€ction of coverac;e and concentrute on other issues in the iJest Virginia
;)r i mary. The pnd resu It, therefore, cou I d a I I o
\,oJ him to i dent i fy with the West Virginians by erasing the importance of his religion--his major image problem there.
However, if he did not succeed in arousing gui It feel1ngs within the consciences of the editors ovpr his unfair treatmen t, K ern e d y a Iso a p pea led tot h e i r s ens e
0 f res;)
0 n sib i i i r~ ern i n din 9 the m
0 f the i r r
0
I e s a s rei'
0 r t e r s, h e s aid, " The members of the pres should report the facts as they find them. But they should beware, it seems to me, of either magnifyin;) this issue or oversiPlf'lifying it.n5 By implyinc rather th~n stating directly that the press had fai led in meeting their responsibilities to the pllblic, he left the eriitors ground to redeem tbernsplvesracefully. At the same time, the reminder of t~eir resronsibi lities strengthened his d ire c t i d e n t i fie a t ion
1,,] i t h the il res ~~ by s h
0 v.Ji n g the m his a ~ pre cia t ion
0 f the i r :, () s iii
0 n . K p nne rI y poi n ted
0 IJ t the gravity of the press' responsibi lity when he said,

31 •
" Now ' ..
J ear,:, i n \..; e ',. t Vir gin i a • As rep
0 r t (' d t o t day's '; fa s h i n gton p. s t the 9 r e fl t b u I k of ',} est Vir
CJ i n ian s p n i d lit tie
- - ' attention to my relision--unti I they read r~peatedly in th~ nation's press that this
V.J8.S t1f' decisive issue in \lest Virginia. There are many serious rroblems in the state--problems big enough to dominate any c8rr'~)aign--but religion is not one of them.,,6 r(ennedy's ap"eal to their sense of responsibi lity projected the image of
8 nan sYrTl;Jathetic to the: osition of the press, yet one cllncr'rned for the real issues facing the
American people. With that kind of image, the general public and e s p e cia II y the
'n' est Vir gin; a n s
W 0 u I d bern
0 rei ike I y to identify ~'ith him and supportive of his principles during the rrimary and even fue election itself.
Fi no. I Iy, he attacked the press open Iy by appeill i n9 to their sense of reason. Facing them directly, he stated,
" 8 u t reg a r die
S S 0 f thE:' pol i tic (~I
0 u t com e, t his iss u e ish ere to be faced. It
1 S my job to face it frankly and fu I I y.
And it
1 S your joh to face it fairly, i n perspective and in proportion.
J17
He
W;:l S explaining to them the need to lay their com [) I a i n t s on the table and to be as oren
\4 it h him as he was being with them. He also tried to explain to them why the analysis of the Wisconsin primary had been inconclusive. He said: carried some areas with large proportions of voters who are Cat hoi i c s -- and I los t so me. I C.'3.rr i eel some

32. areas where Protestants predominate--and I lost some.
It is true that I ran wei I in cities--and large numbers of Catholics live in cities. Rut so do union members and older voters and veterans and chess fans and basswood lovers. To say my support in the cities is due only to the religion of the voters is incapable of proof.
8
By bringing out alternative ways of analyzing the primary results, he hoped the editors were reasonable enough to see the fallacies 1n their jud(Jrnents.
However, if the editors could not accept faults stated indirectly, Kennedy directly pointed out the fallacies in many popular conceptions. He demonstrated the absurdity present with the use of inclusive results, identifying with their distaste for manipulation of the facts. He stated:
Only this week, I received a very careful analysis of the I'}isconsin results. It conclusively shows t~o s i 9 n i f i can t pat t ern
S 0 fbi
0 c I, v
0 tin g : I ran stron~est in those areas where the average te:rperature in January was 20 deGrees or hi~her, and poorest in those areas where it was 14 degrees or lov.'er--and that I re.n \rJell in the beech tree and basswood counties and not so wei I amon~J the hemlock and ':lne. It has been sUGgested, that to offset my apparent political handicaps I may have to pick a running-mate from Maine or preferably,

33.
By openly exhibiting the fallacies in their judgments, he seemed to be tryinG to remove the image of an impersonal, c a I cui at i n 9 can did ate -- ide n t I f yin 9 \
J
I t h the e d ito r ' s bel i e f in reporting the facts. At the same time, if they accepted his rea son i n g, he\!-' () u I d be.· b l e t conception that he had Ivon In ~;Jisconsln becau~;e of the Catholic vote there. This could 1n turn effect his n8tional audience and the \.J est Vir Gin ian s by r e r': 0 V
I n
CJ the rei i 9 i
0 U s i s sue.
He conclude0 his appeal to their reason by explaining the fallacy in the common belief that reliCJion ~'Jas only an issue for the office of the Presidency. He asked them,
1 s t her e
8 n y jus t i f i cat i (] n for a:, p I ~' I n 9 s P e c I a I r e I i
CJ i
0 us t est ~3 too n e
0 f f i ~ e
J n I y : the Pre s I (J e n c y ? Lit tie
0 r n
0 a -: ten t ion vI
R
S :) aid tom y rei i
CJ ion Iv h
E' n i t k
0 a t h as Senator in 195~--as a Congress~Rn in 1947--or as a naval officer 1n 19 LI·1. "Member::; of my fal th abound in pub I 1 c
0 f f ice a t e v e r'j I eve I e x c e p t the
I:] hit e H
0 use.
',; hat i s the r e
2 b
0 u t the Pre :; ide n c y t hat jus t i fie s t his constant emphasis lipan a candidate's rei igion Clnd that of his supporters?10
Hopefully, with this line of argument the editors could see the discrepancy bet~een the ideals of AmericRn democracy and the so-called religious issue and could identify l"ith the
"underdog" image Ker.necy wa~; creatinel.

34.
If th is argument fa i led, ho\\'ever, Kennedy pre,-ente(~ another line of r~asoning, atterlpting to disclaim the existence of the
Catholic vote. I n d ire c t iHl S '/1 e r t o t h e que f; t i () n
0 f p I a c
C1 tin 9 the Catholic vote with a Vice-Presidential nomination, Kennedy stated:
I find that suggestion hic;hly distasteful. It assumes the worst ~bout a country which prides itself on being more tolerant and better educated than it was 1n 1928.
I t ass urn est hat Cat hoi i c s are a p a vln 0 nth e r
0 lit i c a I chess-board, moved hither and yon, and somehow I'bought off" hy the party putting in the second spot a Catholic who m ' t r', epa r t y bar red fro m the t
0 fi for rea son s
0 f rei i 9 ion. And i t for U e t s, fin a I I y, t hat s u c hap e r for mance would have an effect on our image abroad as wei I as our self-respect here at home.
11
This line of reasoning worked to identify with his audience's belief 1n religious tolerance and their ccncern for the national image. It presents Kennedy as a highly ethical person, works to remove the negative connot~tions of a politician, and places him nn an identifiable level 'with the general pUblic.
It also worked to identify with the concern of West Virginians that they would receive the same treatment as ~iscon!;in by the press. If accepted, this appeal could function not only to discredit the religious issue, but also to force political leaders to reject the corn:~romisin9 [lositior, of
Fl.
Vice-F'residential

35. nomination. Kennedy's primary ~oal was the number one ~OSltion, not the second. That goal could not succeed if people began to label him as Vice-President material.
The stratrgy of direct and o!en attack functioned trrough its appeals for identification to discredity the judGment of the press and religious bigots who had emphasized the importance of the religious issue and also to dismiss the compromise of the Vice-Presirlential nomination. Rut Kennedy had another purpose he had to accomplish. He ne~ ed to promote understanding ana sympathy for his position as a Catholic running for the Presidency, in order to dispel the fears and suspicions of the vot i n9 ['ub Ii c. He [!1 d thi s t "Irough hi s second strategy
--the strategy of clarification.
Kennedy's first goal with the strategy of clarification was to promote understanding bet~een himself and his audience.
Aware of the bias aJainst hi~, he first tried to clarify his that the question of federal assistance to parochial schools tt • i s a v e r y leg i tim
(1 t e iss u e i1 c t u a I I Y b e for e the C>-, n
CJ res s • am oppo8ed to • .l.
1 '_.
I believe it is clearly unconstitutional • voterl against it on the SenRte floor this yeAr, when offered by Senator Morse. But interestingly enough,
1/Ji:--lS the on Iy ann au n c e d can ':! i d
M t e i nth e ;; e nat e
Iv h () d i,; so. tJ e v (", r the I e s s
I have not yet charged my 0ppDnents with taking orders from
Rome."
12
Kennedy was trying to make them un~erstand that he

36. was can c e rnee abo u t the s epa r3 t ion a f c: h u r c h
8 n cst tea n d implied that this concern ~HS possibly stronGer with him th2n with som~ of the other Protestant candidates who were not r e qui red t
0 d e f (' n d if, ems e I ve s • By s how i n~) his con c ern for the real issues end pointing out his specific stand on separation of church and state, he was working to identify
'"Ii t h a I I ~) e 9 men t s
0 f his a u rl i e n c e by I e sse n i n 9 the i r rei i 9 i
0 u s
SUsplclons.
Ken ned y n ext t r i edt
0 a I I e v i
(1 t e the i r f ear s by
,:i rom
0 t -
1ng an understandina of the likelihood of a religious confrontation in the office of the Presidency. He explained:
The prospects of any President ever receiving for his signature a bi I I providing forei~n aid funds for birth c0ntrol are very remote indeed. It is hardly the major issue some have suggested. Nevertheless I have made it clear that I would neither veto nor sign such a bi I I on any basis except what I considerel to be the public interest, without reDard to my private religious vie\-Js.
I havp sa i d the same about bi I Is dea ling vii th censors hip.. d i v
0 r c
E', 0 U r rei a t ion s
'vJ i t h Spa i nor any
0 the r t 13
The appeal functioned to promote understandinu of the remote nature of any major religious conflict and the understanding of how strongly he felt that his first responsibi lity was to his elected office.

37.
Fin
R
I I y, Ken ned y f e I t i t
I;J a s n e c e s s a r' y t hat the !J ubi i
C understand the real lssues of the cRmpaign. He stated,
"There is only one legitimate que~tion underlyin0 al I of the rest: .iould you, as F)resident of the lJnited states, be res:"lonsive in any way to ecclesiasticRI pressures or obligations" of any kin d t hat rn i ~; h t i n any fa s h ion i n flu e nee
0 r i n t e r fer e with your conduct of that office in the national interest?
I have ans~ered Ihat question~ny times. My answer was--and is--(NO!' Once that question is answered, there is no legitimate issue of my religi:)n • • If his audience bought his rea son i n g, 1< e nne d y
IW U
I d h a v e s u c
C e e d e din he I pin 9 the m understand the one legitimate aspect of the religious issue.
Th i s ai' pea I prornot i ng understand i ng beiv.'een hi mse I f and his audience functioned to give ~\ennel:y modes of rlirect identifiC8tion \/ith all spgrnents of his cludience. Kennedy's audience co u I did e n t i f Y
IJ.; i t h the i m
0 r tan c e h e j)
I ace don u n b i a sed judgments concerning political issues. By presenting himself
8.8 an undf'rdog because of his rei i9ion, one concerned about the reel problems of Arn?ricRns, he clarifie l the reasons why they sh~uld sU:Jport him as a presidential candidate. The s u c
C e
S S 0 f t his apr e.q I
"J 0 U
I r the ref
0 rea f f e c t his sup po r t by thp ~uhlic for his nomInation.
Kennedy found, hOI/levc:r, that beyond their n"ee: for understanding, his audience had to accept--not close their eyes to-his position as a Catha! ic running for the Pre~idency. There-

38. fore, another aspect of his clarification strateuy W0S to defend his position to them. He first needed to eradicate the misconce~tion of his campai~nin~ for thr Catholic vote.
He stated:
Even if such a vote exists--which I doubt--I want to make one thing clear again: I want no votes solely on account of my religion. Any voter, Catholic or other-
\d s e, who fee's a n
(I the r c
(-l n did ate
,'IOU
I d be a sup e rio r
President should sup~ort that candidate. I do not
,,,ant any vote cast for me for such i I 10 i ca I and i rre I evant reasons. Neither do I want anyone to support my candidacy merely to prove that this nation is not bigoted--and that a Catholic can be elected President.
I have never suggested that those opposed to me are therebyanti-Catholic. 15
To strengthen this argument through his audience's identification with relisious freedom, he explainr~d his rioht as an
American citizen to consider his religion a private, not public, affair. tie said: liThe Presidency i~'; not, after all, the Rritish crown, serving a dual capacity in both church a n (! s tat e • The Pre sid e n t
1 S not e I e c t e (~ t
0 b e pro t e c tor
0 f the faith--or guardian of the public morals. His attendance at church on Sunday should be his business alone, not a showcase for the nation.,,16 He seemed to feel the need to make clear to thc public that he had no desire to impose

39. his religious beliefs U00n them, thereby rleserving the same respect from th~m. This ap~eal would seem to identify directly wi th their rlistaste for reI igious bisot.ry and could serve to make his religious st~nd more accept~ble.
Next he wanted to strensthen his position by clearly r e n
0 u n c i n ~i the tit leo f "t h e Cat hoi icc and ida t e for Pre sid e n t •
If
He stated fi rm Iy, "I arl not the Catho Ii c candi date for President. I do not speak for the Catholic church on issues of public policy--and no one in that church speaks for me.
,
,17
By takin~ such a firnly negative stand on the issue, he w~s risking alienation of influential members of the Catholic church. However, this was smal I compared to the gravity of thp issu~ in terms of the rest of the nation.
To further sef]arate himself from hi~3 r'eligion, he stated c I
(> a r I y t hat h e \va s not res ;)
0 n sib let the Cat hoI icc h u r c h and neither was the Catholic church responsible to him. He emphasized, "So I hope we can see t.he beginning of the end of references to me as 'the Catholic candidate' for ~resident.
Do not exrect me to explain or defend every act or statement of every l-'ope or pripst, in this country or some other, in this centJry or the last--and that includes the Mayor of t
LI' n. 11
1 :3
He wanted to make certain that he was not Q01ng to he required tn justify his every action 1n theoloical terms.
,~e uti I ized the Constitution and our founding fathers to further his Gudience's idf'rtification \vith the principle of
- - - - - - -
- - - -

40. rei i 0 i
0 U s f r p e do m. HE' rj e fen rJ e d hi', r
0 sit i :) n say
1 n g
I !I
I bel i e v' t r Ed the f () l' n din g f cd h t" r s m pan t i t
\J hen ~ hE' Y pro v i rl e d inA r tic I f'
V I
0 f t h c' r: () n s t i t uti
0 nth c
1 t the r
'? s Ii 0:
J
I
(1 hen
0 religiolls test for :ublic office--r: r1rovision th8.t br')uc;ht not one c!isspni:ing vote, only the COfiw"en-: of i?oCJer :;herman t h
2 t i t ,,1 a ~~
S II, ely
II n n,.:; r: e s s a
I y -- t the p r,.:; v
R iii n J Y b e i n g a s f f i c i e n t sec uri t y a 9 a i n st sue h t est s • ' '.' 1 9 H e
I-IR s ide n t i f yin CJ \" i t h his au die n c e ' s des ire for i n d i v i d u a I lib e r tie s and hllman rights, defending his ;losition \!Jith their sense of pa.triotic duty. He further developed their sense of patrioticis m ,,} hen he s tat r:: d, 11 ' J e 'II; S t a I I --
C
(1 n did 3. t (' s, r res s
1 ;) n d voters a like ded i cate
DUlse
I yes t these pr i nc i~) I es--for they are the key to a free society."20 This final defense was based on their inrlivirlu~1 resronsibi lities to the nation.
For the audience of 191')0, remembering vivirlly the reign of
SenE'tor Joseph HcCarthy in the late 150's durin~: his Ifcornrnunisthunts," t1is rerninrler could carry special si~nlficance. The e d ito r s
, 1
\!J e I I as the r e : , t of the nation, could identify with the ~atrlotic ideals of a free society--necessarily free of all forms of bias and prejudice.
Through his appeal to his ~udience's understanding and his defense of his OVJn i)o~~ition--his strategy of clarification,
Kennerly sought to a Ileviate the fears and suspicions surroundina his religion \'JiH the Amr:ricA.n pUblic. But Kennedy had sti II one other !'urp se to fulfi II. He felt the need to

41 • justify his pleas not only to th~ editors, but with West
Virginia 8nd the national votinC public. He had to prove they owerl it to him to give him fair consi(eration. Seemingly, he achieved this t~rough his third and final strate0y--the strategy of fair play. itJith his final stratp~JY of fair play, Kenncc:y attel"1pted to supply his atidience with what they needed to justify placinc; their confidence in him. He uti lized five different appeals: anti-hypocrisy, fair treatment, leQ81 impl ication, reason, and anti-relisious bigotry. If he succeeded, then his audience I!/ould acce;}t his Catholicism and, more importantly, accent him as a viable contender for the Presidency.
His first appeal within the str?tegy of fair play was an attempt to ~oint out the hypocrisy in his audience's attitudes. He implied this by asking his audience,
Are we going to admit to the ~orld that a Jew can be chosen Foreign Minister of France, a Moslem can serve in the I srae Ii P('1r Ii ament--but a Catha Ii c cannot be
Pre::OJ ide n t
0 f the U nit e d S tat (' s ? !~ r e
Vi e t o t e I I C han c e I lor
Adenauer, for exanrle, that we want him risking his al I o n
0 u r fro n t lin e s; but t hat -- i f h e
\oJ ere a n Am e ric;1 n-we would never entrust him with our Presirlency--nor would
I.J e a c c e p t
0 u r dis tin 9 u ; she d tJ u est
1
G e n era Ide G a u I Ie?
Are we to admit to the world--worse sti I I, are we to admit to ourseltes--that one third of our population
1S

42. forever barred from the White House?21
But Kennedy did not stop with the impl ic?tion of hypocrisy.
He went on to apply it rlirectly to those wantin] him to settle for the Vice-Presidential nomination. he st~terl, "So I am not impressed by those rleas that I settle for the Vice
Presidency in order to ~vert are! igious spectacle. Surely tho s e \,' h
0 h 'c' lie v (; i t
(j:J n 9 e r
0 U s toe lee t (; Cat hoi icc, s Pre s i dent wi I I not wont him to serve
2S
Vice PreGid~nt,
8 hC2rtbeat away f rom t he
J i lee.
,,22
The s?rcasm in Kennedy's r h e tor i c './ asp v ide n t • his
? u die' n c e " I m s -t b rut
8 ,
I Y so. 11 u t he did not
I-J i ~ h to repel his audience "Iith any hitter'ness. Therefore, he softened hi" h a r s h n P s san d s t r en,: the ned h i ~~
<1. ", [J e
<1.
Ito i cl e n L i f i cat ion
'V i t h his au rl i en c e b ' s t tin U h i ~J con f i
(i (' n c e i nth e val u e s
0 f the American people. Ho .
II, b I ' t h ,\ . people
:3 rem
0 r e con c e r: ned
"J i t h a rn an' s vie vI
S i1 n cJ a b iii tie s t han
','J i t h the church to which he belongs.
n23
He further expressed his confid0nce an ther0by his identification with the American pub' i c by s t
8. tin 9 h i ~~ he lie f t hat J\ rn e ric·; n s \-.. '
0 u Ide, c t a c cor din 9 t o t h e i r no s t val u e d
:i r ; n c i ple~, • He . ec I ':.rerj, f!
I be I i eve that the American eople mean to adhere to those principles today."
24
By reinforcing confidence in his aurlience's integrity,
Kenner:y could effect identification with hi!~ c~u~iience wrile a I
<; 0 pro mot i n 9 r
0 sis ten c e
8. CJ a ins thy P
0 c r i: y •

43.
A sec
0 n d a: pea I w n ish the
II n fa i r t rea t men t
Kennedy had been receiving. Attempting to point out the lim; t s
0 f fa i r p I a y, Ken ned y sa i d t hat " an Am b a :. sad
0 r to the
Vatican could conceivably become a real issue again. I am opposed to it, and
• 1 sa
1
(-.J so But even though it was last proposed by a Baptist President, know of no other cand i date \.'ho has been even as~<ed about thi~; matter.
21'1 n -
He seemed to be asking his 2udience if it was fair for him to endure th i s mere I y because of his re Ii g ion. He later rej ected the unfai~ treatment in dealing directly with the blame for airing th.:; reli~Jious lssue. He stated: "Nor is there any real issue in the sense thnt any c~nJidate is exploiting his religious aff! liation. No one's candidacy, by itself, raises a religious issue. And I believe it is inaccurate to st(lte that my 'candidacy created the isslle.
,
,,26 He seemed to be tel ling them that he saw no need for such treatment and ':.lould easi Iy label those responsible as being unfair. y,=:t, Kennedy carefu I I Y avo i ded r lac i ng blame
1 n anyone direction. Instead, he relieved the editors of blame for creating the religious issue and identifi~d himself with their integrity. Acknowledging their proper roles, he said, "I know the press did not creatl7 this reliGious issue. Hy religious affi liatiJn is a fact--religinus intolerance is
2 fact. And the pro per r
0
I ~
0 f the pre s s i s tor- e p
0 r t
,1.
I I fa c t s t hat are a matter Jf public intercst.,,27 Ry being maJnanimous '"dth

the editors, he seem
0 d to emphasize further his own unfair treatment. Thus, identifyinO with Kennedy's integrity, the press would feel justified in grantins Kennerly's wishes. He strengthened the image of a man with integrity by expressing his confidence in the editors. He said, "I am confident that the press and other media of this country wi I I recognize their responsibi IIUes in this rlre':>--tD refute falsehood, to inform the ionor3.nt, ;:lnr1 tD concentrate on the issues, thf' real issues, in this h}IJr of the nation's peril.,,28 ky freeino the editors from blame, by expr~ssins his confi :ence in their integrity, an~ by recognizing them as the nation's defense against cor r u p t ion, K p nne d y \'/ a :_~ ~. b l e t a v
0 i d
(J n y r () I a r I z a t ion wit h the editors and tf) identif~1 cornn,on
90,115
,.lith them to~"ard fair trea~ment for each other.
A not her: P r
Nl
I
':10 r ked t
0 i ci e n t i f Y r.I ire c t I ~/ ",Ji t h the e d ito r s and
\.,1 i t h e
0 n sci e n t i r) u
S pol i tic a I I e a d e r '3 •
H e poi n ted
0 u t the proper perspective for the issue of relision by quoting the
Supreme Curt. He s;;id that
<l.S public offici3ls,
"\'1e
,Jre neither
J e
I,j nor ::;
E' n til e, n e i the r e a lie nor a ~; n
0
~, tic • ~,! e
0 \'/ e e qua I a t t a c h r,] e n t t o t h e C .. ' n s· i t uti
0 nan dar e e qua I I Y b
(0
U n d by
0 u r obi i (p t i
0 r,
VI he the r
\,1 e de r i ve
0 U rcit i zen s hip fro m the e
(I r lie s t or latest immi;~r2nb:o, to thec;e ~.)h()res • • • Lfor7 religion is outside the
of
government.,,29 With this brief appeal, KAnner'y seemer! tn be lIsi nS; the ~:;upreme C'urt to justify a policy of fair pley. I n dee d, i t a t
0 i r! e n t i f Y ' .. Ii t h h ; s

45. audience's respect for establisherl rules and regulations, im:lloring them to follow "the ri(;ht \vay.1t
In continuing with the third strategy, an 2ppeal to reason seems to pla.y a prom;npnt pclrt. This time the appeal functi'ned to i(lentify \,lith the auc'ience through the concept of fair play.
He seemed to project the image of a reasonable man when he admitted that
It • • • there ~re, I think, le~itimate questions of public policy--of concern to rei igiou s groups which no one should feel bigoted ahout raising, and to "hich I do not object to answering. Silt. I d0 object to beinJ the only candidate r e qui red to an s
\oJ
r tho
S ,2 q lJ e
t ion s • " 30 He b r i n J s the ide n t i fimtion elements into cle~rer focus by asking his audience to be reasonable in their feil.rs about the Presir:ency. He stated,
"On the other hand, we are in no danger of a one-man Constitutional upheaval. The President, however intent he moy be on subverting our institutions, cannot i~nore the ConJress--or the voters-or the Courts. I~nd our hishest court, incidentally, has a long history of Catholic justices, none of '.!hom, as far as
I know, \lIas ever chClIIr>ngerl on the fairness of hi~c rulings on sensit;:ve church-sLite i8S!I(>s.,,31 He then concluded his appeal tc their reason by rointins out the variety of motives
Catholics mi~ht h?ve for supporting him, other than his religion.
He said, rlOf those Catholics I.'ho voted for rne, hOIi! mi;ny did soon Cl r
0 u n d s
0 f my rei i
C) ion -- h
0 \<1 rn i3 n y b e c a use the y res e n ted the at tad: son my r e cor d - - h
0 \'.1 man :/ bee au::.; e the y
II e r- e u n ion

46. members--how many for other reasons? I do not know. And the fact~ are that no one knows.
lI
-
-52
Through this arreal, Kennedy was first able to identify with his audience on intel lig~nt and reasonable grounds.
He enhanced th3t identification by exrlaining the absurdity of a one-man overthrow of the gov~rnment and of assigning motives to the voting bphavior of Catholics. I [ t his a [' pea I
~orked, it meant thot his audience had accepted the ricture he had pAinted of the need for fair play c1nd \\Iould probably modify t~eir behavior tow rd him.
The final appeal used in the strateJY of fair play is agalns t re
1£10US
19oLry. He hinted at the existence of sllch bigotry in the Un i terl states by po i nt i n9 to t h" j i fferences expp.cted from him, but not the other--i-'rotestant--contenders.
For examrle, he said, "Thps, arp leoitimate inquiries about r e f1
I q
LJ est ion
S \It h i c h t h~ n ext Pre sid e n t may c f] n
C!': i v c'_ b I Y h
3. V e to face. But --these irq1liries ought to be directed equally
,~
'-i to all candioetes."-'-He identified hirnse!f llith the public's dista:te for al I forms of rei igiow; prejurlice--a~; conscientious
Ampricans--by jescribing how it rei ted to them. He explained t hat
!l V 0 t e r s are m r e t h
0. n Cat hoi i c
S , P rot c:
S t;1 n t s ,or J e
\<1 S •
They M~ke u~ their minds for many diverse reasons, cood and bad. T
0
'~u h mit the can did ate s t a are I i 9 i
0 U s t est i sun fa i r-the v
0 t e r' the me e I v e s i s d i vis i ve, de 9 r a din 9
I
?, n rl
1.<1 hoi I Y u n w
r ran ted • ,, 3
4 s h
0 tv edt hem h
0 H rei i 9 i
0 U S

b i got r y a f f e c t s no ton I y Cat hoi i c s, but ;: I I fa i t h s • no t only politicianf, but the entire American public. Not wishing to identify with the concept of religious bigotry, his audience the ref
0 r e \,
0 u I d pro b a b I'y goo u t
0 f the i r
\'1 p.
Y to a v
0 i d it, by voting for Kennedy. In effect, his rhetoric functioned to chan~e the direction of attadk of tho:::,e opposer! to him on religious gr'Junds only by trying to label them as bigots, placing them on the defensive.
35
Kennedy's final tactic against religious bigotry was to acknowledge and to signify the need for knowing its extent in th~ United states. He concluded by saying that,
If there is bigotry in the country, then so be it-there is bigotry. If thet bigotry is too great to permit the fair consideration of a Cat:olic ' . ."ilo has made clear his complete independence and his complete dedication to separation of church and state, then we ought to know it. 36
Kennedy's final plea served to reinforce the image of a candidate re2~y to bring the issue out in the open, to discuss i tho n est I y n n doe n I y \·Ii t h his au diD nee. f;: h e tor i c a I I y i t functionej to identify once again with his listeners through their beli~f in an individual's right to fair play.
Kenn",dy's rhetoric invited his immediate e_udience--the ne\o/spaper editors--to ch::llengp. him ~"ith the bias they had been printing against him. Even if they had missed his

-
48. suggestions throughout thr speech for comments, he made it clear Itlhen he conclw1ed by calling on them directly for questions. As Sorensen sa~ it, n.
. . ther r were no questions.
The Senator was disappointed. Many of the editors in attendance, he told me, had printed stories--and vlOIJlej continue to print s tor i e s -- il b 0 u t Vat i c;; n c I aim son
2.
I I Cat hoi i c s,
R b:") ute I i c blocs and about their use by Kennedy as a candidate.
H e h a rl an';
I!! ere d c. I I tho seq
II est ion s
8. n d m r e • Hew i'1 n ted t
0 answer theM directly to the editors.
n37
Nonetheless, the e d ito r s i 9 nor e d his ; n v ita t ion
I and Ken nee: y
ItJ a
S iJ rob
2 b I y I eft wondering about the effect of his rhetoric.
;.\ftcT carefully eXnmining th(~ teyt of f(pnnedy's rhetoric, h e a p p e " red t
0 uti liz e t h r e e dis tin c t r h e tor ice. 1st rat e
Q i e s to 8c~ieve identificRtion, either directly or indirectly, with al I segments of his audience. It is now possible to beg in, 'i'~ ~ Ken ned y
;:I n d his ass
0 c i
<J t e s, i n e val
U 2. t i i) n
0 f the success of that rhetoric.

IV. Conclusion f..!o analy~ds of
;4 s~le.clker's rhetori~ lS cornplete \Jithout
InrJeed,
Wh03 t
18 thf' end-rec;IJlt of analyzing ~ spe?ker's ~urposes an~ rethorls of achievina t h n S e r u r p ()
S e s, 1 f t p
;~ n
'3
I y ~; t rn ::t k e s n
0 (3 t t ."
I: p t t
0 d r a
Vl con clusions concerninr his rhetorical effectiveness? Cha~ter
F0ur ;jtter<,ts to eV':l I u2te Kt:nnedy' s success on hJO I eve Is: first--hy eX::Jrninlns the irlrrlPdiate responses to his rhetoric and sec
0 n rj - - by e
\I a I u a tin 9 the ;' rob
D b lee f fee t i ve n e s
S 0 f his rhetorical str'::Jte::i"'s to ~'roduce identification ~'Jith his alJdience.
!,vhat hlere the Imrnediate effects of Kennedy's rhetoric?
A I tho
U CJ h Ii e en t ere
(i the '.! est Vir gin I apr i r~1 a r y
0 r i
CJ ina I I Y fecin<] y.fh(~t f1fJpec1re,j to be insurrr:ountable odds, the [·.liassachusetts senator l.'IOn an incrediblE,) n1;, of the vote, c8rrying A.I but sevr:n of '.Jest
55 counties.
1
The r res s I.vas quick to recognize this
8S a huge victory for Kennedy.
Lawrence Fuchs, in ~ ~orld, conclud2d:
" I n f i v e r l e r - c e n t - Cat hoi I c') est Vir gin i a, w h i c h J\ ISm i t h los t i n I 928,
2l n d , ..
1 her e c h ron i c de pre s s ion \-/ a s s up po sed tog i ve
Hubert Hum)hrey's s~ecial a~peal an extra boost, Kennedy trounced the r·'iinnesotan. Clearly, we aTe rJealinc: \i.,lith an
49

5C) •
The results of the rrlmary brou~ht about varYlng, yet mostly optimistic, opInIons as to the accompl ishme~ts of
Kennedy's victory. The ~lay 14th issue of Business ~ outlined the following results;
1. Kennedy had become the fEivorite to vin the Democratic
2.
Presidential nomination at the Los Angeles convention.
Kennedy had elirr-inated Humphrey froln the active list of contenders for t~e nomination.
3. Adlai Stevenson had seen his chances of heading the
ticket strongly diminished.
3
This outlook, indeed, seemed promising for Kennedy. The
West Virginia primary had I)een such a success for him that at its conclusion, Kennerly himself
11 joy f u I I Y but m stakenly c0ncluded t~at the religious issue had been 'buried here in the state of West
Kennedy was only partially right. The relisious issue wo.s not yet dearl; however, it ceased to be impurtant unti I after the D~mocratic convention. Then he had difficulty with Catholic leaders who resented his almost anti-church stand. Roman Catholic
,vi 0 n s i 'J nor Jam e sF. N e'f! com b s
(J i d he'l • • • "" a s r art i cui a r I y critical af Kennedy's ASNE sreech and said the Senator had needlessly stated he would not permit higher authorities of his churcl to exert pressure on him if elected President.
'AI I he had to say was • • • If I'm elected President, 1'1 I abide by the Constitution absolutely and act according to my conscience.,,,5

51.
Therefore, the immediate effects of Kennedy's rhetoric see m e d t
0 d e r:n n s t rat e t rem end
0 U S sue c e s s • His vic tor yin
'dest Virginia
II
. .
• presented the impressive proof which party leaders could not ignore. After the West Virginia p rim a r y, he sit ant I.;
3. d e r s i n sue h k e j s t
(J t e s as r'1 i chi ~: a n
I
Nev York, and Fennsyl\,ania became convincerl that Kennedy
WetS their man. They gave him the votes he needed to win the n 0 r1 ina t ion 0 nth e fir s t b ('\ i lot. " 6 Tim e mag a z i n e r e cog n i zed
Ken ned y 's s u c c e s s, say i n ~l t hat
II i t
VI 0. s a t urn p h t hat confounded t1e experts. The ~" est Vir gin i apr i mar y c I
C 21 red the rJO lit i ea I air. I t s e p t the rei i g i
0 us iss u e as i (i e a t I e as t unti I Rft'~r the Dem')cratic Convention, Rnrl it remover! any doubt abo:Jt f<ennedy's abi I ity as a
i~ e ~ a ~ din 9 K· nne rJ 'j , sus e r) f per
S lJ 2. S i v e l' r inc i ;,' I e
S l i t seer's evi:Jr:nt that his ~drrteCJic decision to bring the religlOUS issue out in the forefront, to discuss it openly and h
0 n est I y . '" i t h h i
5 a u die n c e,
\,J a s r h e tor i c
EJ.
I I Y
SOLI n d • By b
0
I d I Y att::'ckfn:; the issue, he
\\1;,5 not only the SOllrce of his audience's anxiety, but also the aoent for its resolution. He identified h i ri S elf b
<) t h
\v i t h the pro b I p rn and ~Ji t h the a u die n c e ' s nee d t
0 air the c,uestion. His Rppeals to fair play and to reason not o n 1 y f
11 n c t ion edt ide n t i f Y
'>1 i t h the n e
I,! spa per e d i t
Q r s , b u t also with his national audience and the people of West Virginia.
According to Business . .:eek, "fvlost analyses of the vote concluded that West Virginians were, in effect, almost shamed into voting for Kenne1y, rather than have themselves held up to the nation

52. and the vlorld as bigoted.
u8
Kennedy's attack brou~ht the issue out in front of the public's eyes, emrhasizing the r21igious bigotry and demanding that it cease. Then, by ar~ealing to his audience's sense of fair play, by utilizing common values and ideals of the America~ people, and by dis~laying distaste for al I for~s of religious prejudice, Kennedy Nas able to project the image of a sincere and courageous candidate, concerned with the basic p r inc i pie
S 0 fin d i v i d u a I i i be r t y and h u r'1 e n r i h t s -- p r inc i pie s valued by al I segments of the American public.
It seems then that Kennedy, through his three strategies, had indeed found effective rhetorical vehicles for achieving identific2tion with his audience. He reused these same basic ide as, e v (", nth e vI c r rl i n 9
2. n d p h r a sin g, a 9 a i n i nth e tel e vis e d com f'i e n t t o t h e VI est Vir gin ian s the n i 9 h t b e for e the p rIm a r y , to the Houston Ministerial Association after he had received the nominntion, and in countless press interviews prior to the ele,ction. Kennerly had found the effectivC' formula for overcoming his religious handicap in We~t Virginia and used i t f u I I y fro m the n
0 I: •
To his i m m e d i ate au die n ceo f n e tv spa per editors, Kennedy's appenls to fair play and his insistence on res~onsible and fair reporting must have had some success.
For as the campaign wore on, very I ittle of the jisconsin style reporting was in evidence. And in West Vir~inia,
Charleston newsp~rer editor, Harry Ernst, concluded: West
Virginia was, indeed, the primary that made a president. 9

-
.
-
BIB L I 0 (~ lU\ P H Y
Rooks
Burke, Kenneth. A Rhetoric of Motives. New York: Prentice-
Hall, 1950. li urn s, ,I i3 rn e s Hac G r e ~J
0 r • ,J
0 h n Ken ned y :
~ Pol i tic a I F) r
0 f i Ie.
~lel:J York: Harcourt, Brace,
2t1d
'.Jorld, Inc., 1960.
Ern s t., H a r' r y
'1.
The f
1 riM?' r y T hat r'.1 a d e ~ Pre sid e n t : :/ est
Virq;:nia 1960.
Nf>V!
York: t·k(~ra\·J-Hi II Book Co., Inc.,
1962 .•
Fuchs, Lahlrr-:nr:e H. John h
Kennedy ::'Ira ArnF?ric(ln Cathol icisrY'.
New York: Meredith Press, 1967.
L .::;. sky; Vic tor • J. F. ~(.: T h p
Han '-, n d the ~:i y t h • New Y
0 r k :
The \~ a em i I I a nCo •
1
I 963 •
Houat, L. H. "/;n /-\flpro2.ch to i=?hetorical Criticisrn,n in The
IIhetnric21 Idiom, [)"nalrl c,. r;ry8nt, pd. New York: o x f
IJ r d l.1 n i v e r sit Y P r "
S s, I 9 58 • o '
D () nne I !
1
K p nne t h p. <'~ n d D.'1
V i d F. F
0 14 e r s,
\'J i t r
,10 e r·1c Car thy.
J
0 h n n y
..!.!.. H a r (; I Y V. n e
\'.1
Ye. N e
\.1
Yo r k : S i
Tn 0 n
21 n d S c h u s t e r ,
Inc., 1973 •
53

--
-
-
54.
Salinger, F'ierre. \v'ith Kennedy. Garden City, r-Ie\\1 York:
DouhledRY, 1966.
Sorensen, Theodore C. Kennedy. New York: Harper and Row,
1965.
"'1 hit e, The 0 r do r e • j •
The I'; a kin 9 0 f the Pre sid e n t ' 60. NevI
York: Atheneum House, Inc., 1961.
Articlps
"A C
8 tho I i c i nth e liJ hit e H
0 use?
II
E con
0 m i s t (A P r i I 1 6,
1
960) , pp. 247-8.
F u c h s, La',' r e n c e H. "T he h' e , i 0 i
0 lJ S
Vo t e , Fa c t o r F i c t ion?"
Cat hoi i c ',j 0 rid, I 92 (0 c to b e r I 960), ~-j -1 4 •
Holland, Virginia. "f~hetorical Criticism:
,u..
Burkeian t:!ethod."
Quarter Iy Journal of Speech, 39 (1953)
1
4L~4-Ll-50.
" H
0 \lJ
Hum p h r e y, Ken n ~ d Y Lin pUp i n
'L i i s c () n sin t
B e aut yeo n t est • '
It
Busi ness ,leek O!1arch 26, 1960), pp. 1621 l-4.
"Kennedy: It's Almost Cinched." Business \.veek flP. 23-24.
U!lclY 14,1960),
"Kennedy's Hopes HantJ on 'vJe::t Virginia Rematch." Business
I;J e e k ( Apr i I 9
1
I 960 )
I
P r.
2 6- 2 7 •
Sheerin, John B. "How Fair are Kennerly's Critics?" Cathol Ie
'vJ 0 rid, I 90 (I 960 ), 333- 5 •

-
-
-
55.
"vote Cetter's Victory.tI Time, 75 (~lay 23, 19(0), 15.
N ~ \~ spa per s
Kennedy, John F. The Text of his Speech to the American
Society of Newspa.rler Editors. The r'Jevl York Times,
Apri I 22, 1960, 16:1.

--
Notes on Chapter 1
1
II
Ken n e
(1 y : It's .A!most Cinched," t~usiness
;·!eek (i':,ay
1 4, I 960), ;J. 24.
2 " H
0 \.J
H urn p h r e Y
I
K p nne
:1 y Lin e U pin IV i s con sin • B e aut y
Con t est, ,
II
B lJ sin e s s.i e e k ( Mar c h 26, I 960)
1 p. 1 67.
3 " Ken ned y 's Hop e s H
;'1 n
CJ 0 n i.~ pst Vir 0 i n i a c,: e
IT! a t ch,
1/
Bus i ness i,jeek (April 9,1960), p. 26. l~
I bid.
-
.-.
6 Ibid ., p. 27.
7Kenneth Burke, A Rhetoric of
(New York: Prentice-
I J, I 950), p. 579.
8 lb'
·4 p p. ~LJ·4-545.
9 L • H. r·1ouat, "An Approach to I<hetorical Criticism," in
The f? h e tor i c a I I d i
0 rn , e d. [) 0 n 2.
Ide • f1 r y ant (N c ,.) Y
0 r k : 0 x for d
1 0 Vir Din i a Hoi I ,) n d, "r;
e tor i
C 21
I C r i tic ism : ;\ Bur k e ian
Hethod," i!uarterl'l ... Iournal of S;>ef'ch, :19 (1953), L~L+5.
56

,-
57.
11Kenreth p. O'Oonnel I and navid F. Powers with Joe
M c Car thy, ,J
0 h n n '/
1:/2
H a r rj I y K n c
\,J
Y e (r'-,j e vJ
Yo r k : Sin
0 nan d
Schuster, Inc., 1973), p. 168.
Notes on Chapter 2
1Theodore H. ,hite, The
of the President 1960
(New York: AtheneuM House, Inc., 1961), p. 110. Each candidate threh' 3.11 ris ,,:nergy into the "isconsin prir;'lary Rnd spent apfJroxirnately $15C1,rmO a piece.
2Theodore C. Sorensen, Kennedy (New York: Harper and
R
0 lv, ,
965 ), p P. 1 367 •
-
-
•
4 1 bi d •
I p. 1lf2.
5 Jarnes ["i8.cGregor Burns
I
John Kennedy: A Po l i t i col Prof i 1 e
( Nevi York: Harcourt, R r c. c e, ::) n d:j r , d l i n c.,
I 960), p p. 2hO'3.
6'bid., p. 243.
7\'Jh'ite, p. 112.
8 Ib -id ., p • 11 3.
9 1 b'j d.
1
(1
Vi
G tor Las k y, J. F. K.: The f'! a nan d the
.!:l:Lib.
e
\oJ
Yo r k :
The t·, a c mil len Co.
I ,
9 G j ), p. 337.

58 •
•
12sorensen, p.
1 -,
.:t e.
\,1 r e nee H. F u c h s,
~
Ken ned y and Am e ric a n Cat hoI i cism (NevJ York: r'1ereclith Pre~3s, 1967), p. 172.
15\IJhite, p. 121.
-
•
190 , )onne II, et a I. , p. 184.
20
Ibid ., p. 185.
21
Ibid ., p. 184.
22 lbid •
23Ibid., p. 185.
24 Ibi'd., p. 186.
25lbid • p.
122
•
27 u 1<ennedy's Hopes • • • ," Bus i ness I'leek, p. 27.

59.
28
0
'J 0 r ens e n,P •
1/2
•
30 I hid.
I
P. 11.j 2 • -
-
-
• e
I p. 127.
33FuchS,
Kennedy and AmericEln Catholicism, P. 172.
34 Ib1"d., pp. 6
35Burns, p. 255.
-
"'.)6
J 0 h n
B
•
Sh "
Cat hoi i c ' ",or I d
I
190 (196Cl),
,
"
0
253
.
38lbid.
39 1 b;' d'
. , p. 254.
40 I bid.
I p. 239.
41"A Catholic
In the.,'hite House?"
(Ar->ri I 16,
1960), p. 247 • e
I p. 110.
43 H a r r'j
,'I.
E r n s , The Pr i mary n'at I\'iade
!l
Pres i dent: VIe s t
Virginia 1960 (Ne\4 York: tvicGra\,,-Hi" Book Co., Inc., 1962), pp. 5-6.

60.
-
•
•
. Whlte, p • 130 •
45 Ibid ., p. 127.
46
Ernst, pp. 5-6.
47,bid., p. 6.
48'Jh" t e, p. 118.
4g, h
"rl
1 ' . , pp. 118-9.
5
0
'bid., P. 119.
Notes on Chapter 3
1
John F. KennedYI The Text of his Speech to the American
Soc i e t y
0 f N e
\'!
~, pap erE rl ito r s, The ~~ e
\-!
Yo r k Tim e s (A P r 22 ,
I 960), 1 6 : 1 • Her e aft e r, a I Ire fer en c e~; t o t his t ext Iv i i ' be referred to as "Kennerly-ASNE."
2Kennedy-ASHE. 9 lbirl • 16 ,hid •
3 ,bid •
41 b'i d.
51 h;i d.
6, b i' d.
7 I hid.
Rlb"d
•
10 ,bid •
1 1 I r - ,
12, t " ,
1
3
'bid.
1
11 "
I b
1 d.
1) , bid.
17 lhirl •
18 lbid •
19 lbid •
20 lbid •
21 lbid •
22 lbid •

•
•
61 •
23
1hirl •
24
1bid •
25 lbirl •
26 lbid •
35FLlChS, John
27
1hi rl..
2B I h" 1
:'1(1
1 t, . rl
,1 .•
31lhid.
~)2
I b "
~
•
-.;
,
-~-Ibid.
-z'+
-) 1 bid. p. 172.
37Sorensen, p. 1'+3.
Notes on Charter 4
1
Fuchs, John ~ 8.nrl .L\meric?n C8tholicism, p. 174.
2l
')':lrence
~'
, i .
Fuchs, "The ReliC;ious Vote, F(lct or Fiction?"
Catholic ,'Jorld, 192 (Octoher 1960),9-14.
3"Kennedy: I t '
S (\
I
IT,O S t C inc h t: d
I II t~ u sin e s s
'I,} e e k, p. 2
=L, •
4e h
S
1
John f..:..
Kennedy and /\meric2.n Catholicism, p. 17'+. p. 342.
6Ernst, r· 1 •
7" V
0 t e (; e t t e r 's Vic tor y ," Tim e
1
75
(1-'1 a y 2 3
1
I 960 ), 1 5 •
8"Kennerly: It's Almost Cinched," f3usiness \.l/eek, p. 2L~.
9 Er n s t, t i t Ie.