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Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
Forty years ago, America's cultural icons expressed the frustratation
of the American people with the failure of then-President Lyndon
Johnson to end this country's undeclared war in Vietnam by boldly
demanding peace.
The most respected newsman in the nation, CBS anchorman Walter
Cronkite, explained to a national television audience after the Tet
Offensive that the war had gone horribly awry.
Singer Johnny Cash, whose music and style had made him a hero of
blue-collar Americans, described himself as "a dove with claws" and
began singing the anti-war song "Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream."
The Smothers Brothers variety show was censored when it attempted to
air a segment featuring Harry Belafonte singing in front of images of
student protesters clashing with the police. CBS executives reportedly
feared that the implicit anti-war message would offend President
Johnson and his aides.
But the most direct and powerful anti-war statement of the period
was delived by singer Eartha Kitt, then at the height of her celebrity.
Kitt, the sultry singer of hits such as "Santa Baby" who died at age
81 on Christmas Day, was in 1968 an internationally-acclaimed music
star who had begun making major stage and screen appearances. So it
came as no great surprise when she was invited to a White House
luncheon hosted by Lady Bird Johnson.
But the First Lady was surprised when she asked Kitt about the Vietnam War.
"You send the best of this country off to be shot and maimed," the
singer told the First Lady and the 50 other women at the luncheon.
"They rebel in the street. They don't want to go to school because
they're going to be snatched off from their mothers to be shot in
Vietnam."
The First Lady reportedly burst into tears.
The president was furious.
Kitt was blacklisted. She was investigated by the FBI and CIA, and
ended up on the "Enemies List" of Johnson's successor, Richard Nixon.
Kitt spent the next decade performing mostly in Europe until, in
1978 -- after a triumphal return to Broadway to perform in the musical
"Timbuktu!" -- she was invited back to the White House by the great
healing executive of the post-war era, Jimmy Carter.
Years later, Kitt would recall her White House visit in an interview with Esquire
magazine, saying "The thing that hurts, that became anger, was when I
realized that if you tell the truth -- in a country that says you're
entitled to tell the truth -- you get your face slapped and you get put
out of work."
It was a painful lesson.
But we remember Kitt today as one of those remarkable Americans who
was patriotic enough to speak truth to power. And she spoke in such a
remarkable voice that it will linger far longer in our memory than
those of the foolish politicians and misguided media moguls who were
wrong about Vietnam -- and wrong about Eartha Kitt.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
Forty years ago, America's cultural icons expressed the frustratation
of the American people with the failure of then-President Lyndon
Johnson to end this country's undeclared war in Vietnam by boldly
demanding peace.
The most respected newsman in the nation, CBS anchorman Walter
Cronkite, explained to a national television audience after the Tet
Offensive that the war had gone horribly awry.
Singer Johnny Cash, whose music and style had made him a hero of
blue-collar Americans, described himself as "a dove with claws" and
began singing the anti-war song "Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream."
The Smothers Brothers variety show was censored when it attempted to
air a segment featuring Harry Belafonte singing in front of images of
student protesters clashing with the police. CBS executives reportedly
feared that the implicit anti-war message would offend President
Johnson and his aides.
But the most direct and powerful anti-war statement of the period
was delived by singer Eartha Kitt, then at the height of her celebrity.
Kitt, the sultry singer of hits such as "Santa Baby" who died at age
81 on Christmas Day, was in 1968 an internationally-acclaimed music
star who had begun making major stage and screen appearances. So it
came as no great surprise when she was invited to a White House
luncheon hosted by Lady Bird Johnson.
But the First Lady was surprised when she asked Kitt about the Vietnam War.
"You send the best of this country off to be shot and maimed," the
singer told the First Lady and the 50 other women at the luncheon.
"They rebel in the street. They don't want to go to school because
they're going to be snatched off from their mothers to be shot in
Vietnam."
The First Lady reportedly burst into tears.
The president was furious.
Kitt was blacklisted. She was investigated by the FBI and CIA, and
ended up on the "Enemies List" of Johnson's successor, Richard Nixon.
Kitt spent the next decade performing mostly in Europe until, in
1978 -- after a triumphal return to Broadway to perform in the musical
"Timbuktu!" -- she was invited back to the White House by the great
healing executive of the post-war era, Jimmy Carter.
Years later, Kitt would recall her White House visit in an interview with Esquire
magazine, saying "The thing that hurts, that became anger, was when I
realized that if you tell the truth -- in a country that says you're
entitled to tell the truth -- you get your face slapped and you get put
out of work."
It was a painful lesson.
But we remember Kitt today as one of those remarkable Americans who
was patriotic enough to speak truth to power. And she spoke in such a
remarkable voice that it will linger far longer in our memory than
those of the foolish politicians and misguided media moguls who were
wrong about Vietnam -- and wrong about Eartha Kitt.
Forty years ago, America's cultural icons expressed the frustratation
of the American people with the failure of then-President Lyndon
Johnson to end this country's undeclared war in Vietnam by boldly
demanding peace.
The most respected newsman in the nation, CBS anchorman Walter
Cronkite, explained to a national television audience after the Tet
Offensive that the war had gone horribly awry.
Singer Johnny Cash, whose music and style had made him a hero of
blue-collar Americans, described himself as "a dove with claws" and
began singing the anti-war song "Last Night I Had the Strangest Dream."
The Smothers Brothers variety show was censored when it attempted to
air a segment featuring Harry Belafonte singing in front of images of
student protesters clashing with the police. CBS executives reportedly
feared that the implicit anti-war message would offend President
Johnson and his aides.
But the most direct and powerful anti-war statement of the period
was delived by singer Eartha Kitt, then at the height of her celebrity.
Kitt, the sultry singer of hits such as "Santa Baby" who died at age
81 on Christmas Day, was in 1968 an internationally-acclaimed music
star who had begun making major stage and screen appearances. So it
came as no great surprise when she was invited to a White House
luncheon hosted by Lady Bird Johnson.
But the First Lady was surprised when she asked Kitt about the Vietnam War.
"You send the best of this country off to be shot and maimed," the
singer told the First Lady and the 50 other women at the luncheon.
"They rebel in the street. They don't want to go to school because
they're going to be snatched off from their mothers to be shot in
Vietnam."
The First Lady reportedly burst into tears.
The president was furious.
Kitt was blacklisted. She was investigated by the FBI and CIA, and
ended up on the "Enemies List" of Johnson's successor, Richard Nixon.
Kitt spent the next decade performing mostly in Europe until, in
1978 -- after a triumphal return to Broadway to perform in the musical
"Timbuktu!" -- she was invited back to the White House by the great
healing executive of the post-war era, Jimmy Carter.
Years later, Kitt would recall her White House visit in an interview with Esquire
magazine, saying "The thing that hurts, that became anger, was when I
realized that if you tell the truth -- in a country that says you're
entitled to tell the truth -- you get your face slapped and you get put
out of work."
It was a painful lesson.
But we remember Kitt today as one of those remarkable Americans who
was patriotic enough to speak truth to power. And she spoke in such a
remarkable voice that it will linger far longer in our memory than
those of the foolish politicians and misguided media moguls who were
wrong about Vietnam -- and wrong about Eartha Kitt.