Nicholas Katzenbach

Nicholas Katzenbach

Nicholas Katzenbach is gebore in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, op 17 Januarie 1922. Nadat hy aan die Phillips Exeter Academy gegradueer het, het hy by die United States Army Air Force (USAAF) aangesluit. Tydens die Tweede Wêreldoorlog is hy deur vyandelike troepe gevange geneem en twee jaar as krygsgevangene in Italië deurgebring.

Na die oorlog het Katzenbach die Princeton University en die Yale Law School bygewoon. Terwyl hy in Yale was, was hy die hoofredakteur van die Yale Law Journal. Katzenbach ontvang ook 'n Rhodes -beurs en studeer twee jaar aan die Universiteit van Oxford. In 1950 word hy advokaat in New Jersey.

In 1952 word Katzenbach medeprofessor in die regte aan die Yale Universiteit. Hy was ook professor in die regte aan die Universiteit van Chicago (1956-1960). Hy was ook die medeskrywer van Die politieke grondslae van die internasionale reg (1961).

Katzenbach het hom aangesluit by die departement van justisie se kantoor van regsadvies en is in April 1962 bevorder tot adjunk -prokureur -generaal, die tweede hoogste pos in die departement. Katzenbach werk nou saam met president John F. Kennedy en kry die taak om die vrylating van gevangenes wat tydens die aanval van die Baai van Varke op Kuba gevang is, te verseker.

'N Ondersteuner van burgerregte Katzenbach het toesig gehou oor departementele bedrywighede in die desegregasie van die Universiteit van Mississippi in September 1962 en die Universiteit van Alabama in Junie 1963. Hy werk ook saam met die Kongres om die deurvaarding van die Wet op Burgerregte van 1964 te verseker.

Op advies van Robert Kennedy het president Lyndon B. Johnson Katzenbach as prokureur -generaal van die Verenigde State aangestel. In hierdie pos het hy gehelp om die stemregwet op te stel. Katzenbach het met J. Edgar Hoover gebots oor sy beleid om ongemagtigde afluisters van mense soos Martin Luther King te beveel. Katzenbach bedank in 1966 en verklaar dat "hy nie meer effektief as prokureur -generaal kon dien nie, omdat mnr. Hoover voor die hand liggend gegrief was oor my."

President Johnson het hom toe op 21 September 1966 as die minister van buitelandse sake aangestel. Johnson het Katzenbach ook aangestel in 'n kommissie van drie lede wat die sentrale intelligensie-agentskap se aktiwiteite moes hersien. Nadat Johnson bedank het, keer Katzenbach terug na die privaatregspraktyk in Princeton, New Jersey.

Dit is belangrik dat alle feite rakende die moord op president Kennedy openbaar gemaak word op 'n manier wat mense in die Verenigde State en in die buiteland tevrede sal stel dat al die feite bekend gemaak is en dat 'n verklaring hieroor nou gemaak word.

1. Die publiek moet tevrede wees dat Oswald die sluipmoordenaar was; dat hy nie konfederate gehad het wat nog op vrye voet is nie; en dat die getuienis sodanig was dat hy tydens die verhoor skuldig bevind sou gewees het.

2. Spekulasie oor Oswald se motivering moet afgesny word, en ons moet 'n grondslag hê om die gedagte te weerlê dat dit 'n kommunistiese sameswering is of (soos die pers van die Ystergordyn sê) 'n regse sameswering om dit aan die kommuniste te blameer. Ongelukkig lyk die feite oor Oswald te pat - te duidelik (Marxis, Kuba, Russiese vrou, ens.). Die polisie in Dallas het verklarings oor die kommunistiese samesweringsteorie uitgereik, en dit was hulle wat in beheer was toe hy geskiet is en dus stilgemaak is.

3. Die aangeleentheid is tot dusver sonder waardigheid of oortuiging hanteer. Feite is vermeng met gerugte en bespiegelinge. Ons kan skaars toelaat dat die wêreld ons heeltemal in die beeld van die polisie in Dallas sien as ons president vermoor word.

Ek dink dat hierdie doelwit bereik kan word deur so gou as moontlik 'n volledige en deeglike FBI -verslag oor Oswald en die sluipmoord bekend te maak. Dit kan moeilik wees om te wys op die teenstrydigheid tussen hierdie verslag en verklarings deur die polisiebeamptes in Dallas. Maar die reputasie van die Buro is van so 'n aard dat dit die hele werk kan doen. Die enigste ander stap is die aanstelling van 'n presidensiële kommissie van onaantasbare personeel om die getuienis te hersien en te ondersoek en die gevolgtrekkings daarvan bekend te maak. Dit het beide voordele en nadele. Dit dink dat dit kan wag vir die publikasie van die FBI -verslag en openbare reaksie daarop in die buiteland.

Ek dink egter dat 'n stelling dat alle feite op 'n ordelike en verantwoordelike wyse tot openbare eiendom gemaak sal word, gemaak moet word. Ons het iets nodig om openbare spekulasie of kongresverhore van die verkeerde soort af te weer.


Vertel 'n POW's Tale

Toe Nicholas Katzenbach op die filmstel "Hart's War" instap, word die herinneringe aan sy krygsgevangenes tydens die Tweede Wêreldoorlog met volle krag teruggebring.

"Dit was so realisties, so akkuraat as wat dit kon wees," sê Katzenbach (80), wie se seun John die roman geskryf het waarop die MGM -film, wat vandag begin, gebaseer is. “Dit het my ontspan.”

John (51) onthou dat sy pa uit 'n taxi stap in Milovice, die klein Tsjeggiese dorpie waar 'n groot deel van die film geskiet is en die replika van die wagtoring sien. 'Hy het vir my gesê:' Ek het nooit gedink ek sou dit weer sien nie, 'het John gesê, wat nie sy pa, Nicholas, prokureur-generaal onder president Lyndon Johnson, onthou nie, en baie gepraat het oor sy 27 maande as 'n krygsgevangene Duitsland.

Daar was nie baie verhale oor die feit dat hy in Februarie 1943 in die Middellandse See neergeskiet is tydens sy 20ste bombardement nie, dat hy deur die Italianers uit die oseaan gepluk is, hongerrantsoene gegee is of in bokswaens vasgekeer was, maar net die helfte van die mans kon op 'n slag sit. Maar John Katzenbach is 'n voormalige joernalis en 'n raaiselskrywer, en uiteindelik het sy pa se geskiedenis 'n voer geword vir 'n roman.

In 'n onlangse onderhoud het vader en seun beklemtoon dat die boek 'n roman is en slegs losweg gebaseer is op die ervarings van Nicholas. En soos byna altyd die geval is, is die film self 'n stap uit die boek verwyder. Byvoorbeeld, in die boek is Tommy, net soos die jong Nicholas Katzenbach, 'n navigator wat neergeskiet word. Soos Nicholas, is hy 'n jong Ivy Leaguer. Soos Nicholas was hy skoenloos toe hy gevang is. Maar die ooreenkoms eindig amper daar.

"Ons het 'n bietjie van die roman afgewyk en soms was John nie heeltemal seker nie, maar aan die einde van die dag het ons nie van die integriteit afgewyk nie," sê die vervaardiger van die film, David Ladd.

John Katzenbach stem saam. 'Baie romanskrywers sit en tjank oor wat Hollywood aan hul boeke doen, maar films is nie boeke nie. Ek wou hê dat hulle die kern van die boek moes vind en dit in 'n wonderlike film kon verander-om iets te skep wat op sy eie voete sou staan. "

Ondanks die feit dat die fliek as 'n Bruce Willis-aksie-opname bemark word-tot ontsteltenis van regisseur Gregory Hoblit, wat dit 'n 'onbeduidendheid' vir die regte krygsgevangenes noem, gaan die kern van die film oor twee swart vlieëniers wat neergeskiet word en by die geheel-wit krygsgevangenekamp aansluit. Die pamflette-Lt. Lincoln Scott (Terrence Howard) en Lt. Lamar Archer (Vicellous Shannon)-steek rassisme by sommige van die aangewese mans aan, wat lei tot 'n moord en 'n krygsraad in die krygsgevangenekamp. Colin Farrell, die jong Ierse akteur wat veral bekend was vir sy werk in die film "Tigerland" uit die Viëtnam-era, speel Tommy Hart, 'n vars luitenant wat verweerder Scott verteenwoordig, terwyl Willis die harde en verbitterde kolonel William McNamara, die hoogste -rangorde Amerikaanse offisier in die kamp.

Niks daarvan het in Katzenbach se krygsgevangenekamp gebeur nie. Sommige swart vlieëniers is neergeskiet en by sy kamp aangesluit, maar, sê Katzenbach, die bevelvoerder van die krygsgevangenskap kom uit Suid -Carolina “en hy was absoluut vasbeslote dat daar geen rassediskriminasie sou wees wat die Duitsers vir propaganda kon gebruik nie. Hy het die eerste swart offisier met nege mans van onder die Mason-Dixon Line ingesit en gesê: 'As daar probleme is, sal daar 'n krygsraad wees as ons terugkom.'

Selfs al was die rassistiese voorvalle nie deel van Nicholas se ervaring van die krygsgevangene nie, sê John dat sy belangstelling in sulke kwessies direk voortspruit uit die rol van sy vader in die Kennedy- en Johnson -administrasie gedurende die 1960's.

'Elke goeie idee wat hy van my geërf het,' skerts sy pa. Met 'n sywaartse blik op hierdie pa, maak John asof hy hom ignoreer, maar stem saam: 'Ek is geneig om romans te skryf met ras of ouderdom. Tommy Hart het oorlog toe gegaan, maar sy werklike oorlog was teen rassisme. ”

Vir produsent-regisseur Hoblit ('Primal Fear', 'Frequency') was een van sy belangrikste doelwitte om die daaglikse lewe van die soldate akkuraat uit te beeld. Tydens sy navorsing oor die film, "het dit vir my duidelik geword dat ek nie net met die grootste geslag te doen gehad het nie, maar ook met 'n geslag wat verbygegaan het. Binnekort sal daar niemand wees wat die eerste persoon se verhaal vertel nie.

'Ek het gevoel dat dit noodsaaklik is om alles reg te stel. Ek wou hê veterane wat dit kyk, moet dink dat ons dit regkry. As ons dit gedoen het, sal ek 'n lang pad wees om 'n gelukkige persoon te wees. "

Nicholas Katzenbach sê die film weerspieël suksesvol die eentonigheid van 'n krygsgevangene. 'As u in die kamp sit, is die belangrikste ding dat u tot die dood toe verveeld is,' sê hy. Trouens, Nicholas, wat sy voorgraadse opleiding in Princeton onderbreek het om by die oorlog aan te sluit, het daarin geslaag om met sy klas te gradueer deur die handboeke vir sy junior en senior jare in die kamp te lees. Die boeke is deur die YMCA gestuur, 'en elke keer het die Duitsers 'n' Mein Kampf 'in Engels ingegee', onthou Nicholas, wat in Princeton, N.J.

Die jonger Katzenbach, wat in Amherst, Mass., Woon, sê dit was die belangrikste boodskap wat hy as kind oor sy pa se krygsgevangenesdae gekry het-"dat daar in elke situasie 'n geleentheid is, al is dit hoe erg."

Dit wil nie sê dat die tyd van die ouderling Katzenbach as 'n krygsgevangene sonder drama was nie. Hy onthou dat die Amerikaanse vlieërs per ongeluk begin het om die krygsgevangenestreine te bombardeer terwyl hulle per trein vervoer is, net soos in die film. Die bakkarre het oopgevlieg en "ons het uitgeklim en in ons uniform begin loop," sê hy. 'Ons was ongeveer 40 of 50 myl van die Switserse grens af. Niemand het ons gekeer nie. Dan sien ons 'n hele peloton Duitsers wat saamstap, en ons stap in 'n deur om onopvallend te wees. Maar dit was toevallig die deur van die Duitse hoofkwartier. ”

Katzenbach en sy kamerade is betrap en weer op die trein gesit. “Die SS het oorgeneem en gesê vir elkeen van ons wat ontsnap het, sou twee geskiet word. En vir elke bakkar wat ontsnap het, sou al die mans in elke bakkar aan weerskante tereggestel word. Ek het nooit getwyfel dat hulle dit sou doen nie. ”

Die filmspan het 'n gevoel van hoe dit was om in die harde Europese winter te oorleef, en het ses maande lank in en om Praag gefilm, dikwels in die nag, by temperature onder nul. Die kampreplika is op 400 hektaar gebou, met tientalle kaserne en wagtorings.

Sommige rolspelers het 'n nag in die koue deurgebring

Willis en 'n paar van die ander lede van die rolverdeling het so geraak dat hulle een nag op 'n strooimatras in die vriesende tente waarin die krygsgevangenes was, slaap. Toe die bemanning die volgende oggend begin verfilm, het Willis 'sy kop uitgesteek en 'n goeie dag gesê', onthou Hoblit. Toevallig was die film se krygsgevangeneskonsultant kolonel Hal Cook, wat in dieselfde kamp-Stalag Luft III-as Nicholas Katzenbach opgesluit was, alhoewel hulle mekaar nie geken het nie.

Wat Hoblit veral by die film aangetrek het, was die moeilikheid en uitdaging om mans uit te beeld, wat almal gebrekkig is, maar nietemin wat "ongeag hul vooroordele, ongeacht hun wereldbeeld, probeer om die regte ding te doen." Die mengsel van oorlogstydse optrede en die hofsaal (of ten minste krygsgerigte) drama maak dit 'n moeilike fliek om te duiwel, en die vervaardiger Ladd erken dat 'dit iets is wat ons noukeurig probeer het om naatloos saam te werk.'

Die advertensieveldtog druk egter op "Hart's War" as 'n Willis -aksiefliek, en Hoblit is vir die eerste keer nie gelukkig daaroor nie. 'Ons het kwaai gevegte daaroor gehad en die stadsaal het gewen,' sê hy bedroef. 'Die ateljee wou dit onverskillig in die hartjie van die Bruce Willis -mark bemark, en dit is wat dit gedoen het.

Alhoewel die film van $ 70 miljoen wel aksie en spanning en opwinding bevat, soos in die advertensies en voorskoue uitgebeeld, "ontbreek [in die advertensieveldtog] die waardigheid van mans in onuitspreeklike omstandighede," sê Hoblit. 'Dit doen 'n slegte diens aan ouens soos Nicholas. Hier maak ons ​​'n film oor eerlikheid en ordentlikheid en gedra ons ons goed en dit is presies hoe ons ons nie gedra as ons 'n film verkoop nie. "

Aan die ander kant sê John Katzenbach: 'Ek dink hulle moet mense op die sitplek sit. As u dan vir hulle kan sê, hier is iets wat u terselfdertyd kan leer, des te beter. ”

Die vervaardigers sê dat die veldtog kan verander namate die rolprentresensies verskyn en die reaksie van die gehoor registreer, en let op dat die mees positiewe reaksie van die voorskougehore verbasend op die 30-jarige plus vrouegroep was. 'Dit lyk nie soos 'n film wat die groep sal aanspreek nie, maar tog is dit so,' sê Ladd.

Vir hom is die film ''n weerspieëling van mans wat baie opgeoffer het om vryheid vir die vrye wêreld te verkry, en as u die waarheid wil weet, gee ek nie om wat iemand dink nie. Ek kan nie onthou dat ek voorheen so gevoel het nie. Ek het 'n werklike gevoel van 'ons het goed gedoen.' Uiteindelik leef u nie met u bruto nie, maar met uself. '


Nicholas deB. Katzenbach

Nick Katzenbach was in die 1980's die senior vise -president, wet en eksterne betrekkinge van IBM.

Die volgende is die teks van 'n korporatiewe biografie wat in Maart 1985 gepubliseer is.

Nicholas deB. Katzenbach is verkies tot vise -president en algemene raad van International Business Machines Corporation in Januarie 1969. Hy is verkies tot 'n direkteur in November 1970 en 'n senior vise -president in Junie 1979. Hy is in Maart 1983 aangewys as 'n lid van die Korporatiewe Bestuursraad. in Maart 1985 aangewys as senior vise -president, regte en eksterne betrekkinge.

Mnr. Katzenbach was voorheen die Amerikaanse minister van buitelandse sake, 'n pos waarna hy in 1966 aangestel is. Voorheen was hy die Amerikaanse prokureur -generaal van 1965 tot 1966 waarnemende prokureur -generaal in 1964, adjunk -prokureur -generaal van 1962 tot 1964 en assistent -prokureur -generaal van 1961 tot 1962.

Voordat hy by die departement van justisie aangesluit het, was Katzenbach 'n professor in regte aan die Universiteit van Chicago van 1956 tot 1960 en 'n medeprofessor aan die Yale Law School van 1952 tot 1956.

Katzenbach studeer aan die Phillips Exeter Academy en skryf aan die Princeton Universiteit, maar vertrek om by die Army Air Force aan te sluit tydens die Tweede Wêreldoorlog. Nadat hy na die oorlog na Princeton teruggekeer het, het hy sy studies voltooi en later 'n LL.B. -graad aan die Yale Law School. Daarna wen hy 'n Rhodes -beurs aan die Universiteit van Oxford van 1947 tot 1949.

In 1950 begin mnr. Katzenbach die privaatregspraktyk in Trenton, N.J. Hy gaan later na die Pentagon om as advokaat-adviseur en konsultant in die kantoor van die algemene raad van die sekretaris van die lugmag te dien.

Katzenbach is lid van die American Law Institute, die American Bar Association en die American Judicature Society.


Prokureur Katzenbach was 'n sleutelmag vir burgerregte

Die voormalige prokureur -generaal Nicholas Katzenbach het 'n groot rol gespeel in die stryd van die land oor burgerregte en ander belangrike oomblikke in die 1960's. Soos NPR se Debbie Elliott berig, is hy hierdie week in die ouderdom van 90 in sy huis in New Jersey oorlede.

Vanoggend onthou ons 'n man wat George Wallace voor die oë van die wêreld opstaan. Nicholas Katzenbach word prokureur -generaal in die Johnson -administrasie en speel 'n deurslaggewende rol in 'n groot deel van die burgerregtegeskiedenis van die 1960's. Hy sterf hierdie week in sy huis in New Jersey op 90 -jarige ouderdom. NPR se Debbie Elliott kyk terug op sy lewe.

DEBBIE ELLIOTT, BYLINE: As adjunk van die broer van JFK, prokureur -generaal Bobby Kennedy, was Nicholas Katzenbach 'n sentrale figuur in die kragmeting van die Amerikaanse regering met uitdagende suidelike goewerneurs wat integrasie teenstaan. In een van die bekendste tonele van destyds het die goewerneur van Alabama, George Wallace, by die deur van die skoolhuis gestaan ​​om te verhoed dat swart studente aan die Universiteit van Alabama inskryf. Die veel groter Katzenbach kom nader, arms gekruis by sy bors en sweet deurweek sy broekbene in die snikhete Alabama -hitte.

NICHOLAS KATZENBACH: En ek het hierheen gekom om u nou te vra vir 'n ondubbelsinnige versekering dat u hierdie studente toelaat, wat immers net 'n opleiding aan die groot universiteit wil hê.

GOVERNOR GEORGE WALLACE: O, u maak u stelling, maar ons hoef nie 'n toespraak te lewer nie. Jy maak jou stelling.

KATZENBACH: Ek sal my verklaring aflê, goewerneur. Ek was besig om my verklaring af te lê.

ELLIOTT: Wallace stap uiteindelik opsy in die gesig van Katzenbach en nasionale wagte. In 'n 2011 -onderhoud op BigThink.com onthou Katzenbach dat hy met Bobby Kennedy gepraat het net voor die opstand.

KATZENBACH: Hy het gesê wat gaan jy vir goewerneur Wallace sê, en ek het goed gesê, ek weet nie regtig nie. Hy het gesê, wel, die president wil hê dat jy hom dwaas laat lyk.

ELLIOTT: Katzenbach was 'n bestendige teenwoordigheid in gespanne oomblikke. Die Princeton- en Yale-opgeleide advokaat was tydens die Tweede Wêreldoorlog 'n krygsgevangene. Hy het president Kennedy in kennis gestel tydens die Kubaanse missielkrisis. Toe JFK vermoor is, was dit Katzenbach wat Lyndon Johnson gehelp het met die presidensiële eed, en daarna die onafhanklike ondersoek gesoek het wat die Warren -kommissie sou wees.

Johnson het hom later as prokureur -generaal aangestel. Sy stempel was op beide die burgerregte en stemregte. En hy het kop aan kop gespeel met FBI -direkteur J. Edgar Hoover oor sy afluister van Martin Luther King, Jr.

Gefrustreerd met Hoover se taktiek in 1966, bedank Katzenbach as prokureur -generaal en neem sy pos as staatsekretaris aan. In sy onderhoud met Big Think noem hy die werk 'n mislukking.

KATZENBACH: Alhoewel ek 'n paar dinge in die staatsdepartement gedoen het, het ek ons ​​nie uit Viëtnam verwyder nie, en dit was die belangrikste van alles.

ELLIOTT: Nicholas Katzenbach het slegs ses jaar in die regering deurgebring voordat hy na die privaat praktyk teruggekeer het, maar die ses jaar het groot veranderinge in die loop van die land meegebring. Sy memoires uit 2008 het die titel 'Some of It Was Fun'.

Kopiereg en kopie 2012 NPR. Alle regte voorbehou. Besoek ons ​​webwerf se gebruiksvoorwaardes en toestemmingsbladsye op www.npr.org vir meer inligting.

NPR -transkripsies word vinnig gemaak deur Verb8tm, Inc., 'n NPR -kontrakteur, en vervaardig met behulp van 'n eie transkripsieproses wat saam met NPR ontwikkel is. Hierdie teks is moontlik nie in die finale vorm nie en kan in die toekoms opgedateer of hersien word. Die akkuraatheid en beskikbaarheid kan wissel. Die gesaghebbende rekord van NPR & rsquos -programmering is die klankopname.


Nicholas Katzenbach dood op 90

SKILLMAN, N.J. - Nicholas deB. Katzenbach, wat invloedryke poste in die Kennedy- en Johnson -administrasies beklee het en 'n prominente televisie -rol gespeel het in die pogings van die federale desegregasie in die Suide, is dood. Hy was 90.

Martin Mbugua, 'n woordvoerder van die Princeton -universiteit, het gesê Katzenbach is Dinsdagaand by sy huis in Skillman dood. Hy het nie 'n rede gegee nie.

Katzenbach se agt jaar in die regering gedurende die sestigerjare begin met die idealisme van die departement van justisie van Robert Kennedy en eindig in die uitputting en wanhoop van die staatsdepartement van die Johnson -administrasie. Katzenbach was nog nooit so bekend soos die mans vir wie hy gewerk het nie, maar min regeringsamptenare was so betrokke by soveel historiese oomblikke, in die VSA en oorsee.

"Gedurende sy lang en unieke loopbaan in die land se diens, kombineer Nicholas Katzenbach realisme, lojaliteit en uiterste billikheid met 'n vaste toewyding aan die beginsel, veral oor burgerregte, het professor Sean Wilentz, 'n jarelange vriend van Katzenbach, aan die Universiteit van Princeton gesê. Hy was een van sy reuse se reuse, en die geskiedenis sal hom so onthou

Katzenbach was 'n gegradueerde van Princeton en Yale, en 'n voormalige krygsgevangene, Katzenbach het die verstand en vasberadenheid gehad waarna Robert Kennedy gesoek het toe hy sy departement van justisie beman het. Burke Marshall, toekomstige hooggeregshofregter Byron White en toekomstige Watergate -aanklaer, Archibald Cox, is ander aangestel om in justisie te dien. Hulle kort tyd saam word steeds as 'n hoogtepunt vir die departement beskou.

Hulle was jonk, begaafd en helderkoppig en werk onder die kode van die Ivy League Gentleman, 'het Victor Navasky geskryf in die bekroonde' Kennedy Justice ', gepubliseer in 1971. Hulle het gewerk met 'n' ongekende elan 'en het geglo dat die idee dat redelike mans kan werk altyd dinge uit. & quot

Die Koue Oorlog, burgerregte, Viëtnam en die moord op 'n president sou die kode telkens toets.

Katzenbach het 'n regsopdrag geskryf ter ondersteuning van president John F. Kennedy se besluit om Kuba tydens die missielkrisis in 1962 te blokkeer en het gehelp om die vrylating van gevangenes wat tydens die rampspoedige aanval van Bay of Pigs op Kuba in 1961 vasgelê is, te verseker. Hy word adjunk -prokureur -generaal in 1963 en het na die moord op Kennedy gedien as prokureur -generaal en 'n staatsekretaris onder Lyndon Johnson, wat saam met Kennedy in Dallas was toe die president geskiet is.

Katzenbach se eerste werk vir Johnson was eenvoudig, maar sensitief. Die nuwe president was op Air Force One en wou so gou as moontlik ingesweer word. Katzenbach, destyds in Washington, het nie gedink dat so 'n seremonie nodig was nie, maar het steeds ingestem om met Johnson -assistent Jack Valenti te praat en vir hom die presiese bewoording van die eed van die amp voor te lees. Die donker prentjie van Johnson wat ingesweer is, met Jacqueline Kennedy aan sy sy, het vinnig 'n ikoniese beeld geword van die oordrag van mag.

Katzenbach, wat gehelp het om te werk aan die Wet op Burgerregte van 1964 wat deur Johnson onderteken is, was die Kennedy -administrasie se punteman toe James Meredith die eerste swart geword het wat in 1962 by die Universiteit van Mississippi ingeskryf het. Dit het gevolg op 'n lang hofstryd, pogings van destydse Gov. Ross Barnett om hom te blokkeer en geweld wat op die kampus ontstaan ​​het. Die probleme het Kennedy gedwing om federale marshals te beveel om Meredith te begelei en later duisende federale troepe op 1 Oktober 1962 te ontbied, toe oproer begin by Ole Miss.

''n Beenmoeide Katzenbach praat met president Kennedy toe vreugdevolle geskreeu lui dat gereelde troepe buite die Lyceum (administrasiegebou) gesien is,' skryf die skrywer Taylor Branch in 'Parting the Waters: America in the King Years 1954-63.'

Die volgende jaar was hy die federale amptenaar, toe die segregasie -regisseur Alabama, George Wallace, sy berugte staanplek in die deur van die skoolhuis maak - simbolies probeer om twee swart studente, Vivian Malone en James Hood, te verhinder om die Universiteit van Alabama te betree.

Katzenbach lyk sakeloos in 'n pak en das, en sy kaalkop sweet onder die son van Alabama. Hy stap na die ingang van die skool en gee vir Wallace, wat in die skaduwee staan, 'n presidensiële afkondiging dat hy die wet moet gehoorsaam. Die nasie het op televisie gekyk, waaronder 'n senuweeagtige Robert Kennedy by sy kantoor in Washington.

Dit was 'n historiese konfrontasie, maar vooraf opgelos. President Kennedy het die Alabama National Guard gefederaliseer en sommige van sy eenhede na die universiteitskampus bestel. Daar is toe 'n ooreenkoms bereik tussen die Withuis en Wallace se hulpverleners, en Malone en Hood het by die skool ingeskryf nadat Wallace 'n proklamasie aan Katzenbach voorgelees en vertrek het.

'N Paar maande na die kragmeting in Alabama het Katzenbach weer opgestaan ​​in die dae na Kennedy se moord. Op 25 November, drie dae na die moord, het Katzenbach 'n memo aan Bill Moyers, 'n medewerker van Johnson, gestuur waarin hy versoek dat die resultate van die FBI se ondersoek openbaar gemaak word om die opvatting dat Lee Harvey Oswald nie alleen opgetree het nie, te bestry.

"Die publiek moet tevrede wees dat Oswald die sluipmoordenaar was dat hy nie konfederate gehad het nie," het Katzenbach geskryf.

Spekulasie oor Oswald se motivering moet afgesny word, en ons moet 'n grondslag hê om te dink dat dit 'n kommunistiese sameswering is of (soos die ystergordynpers sê) 'n regse sameswering om dit aan die kommuniste te blameer, "het hy geskryf in die memorandum, een van duisende lêers wat in 1994 deur die National Archives vrygestel is

Ongelukkig lyk die feite oor Oswald te pat, te duidelik (Marxisties, Kuba, Russiese vrou, ens.), & quot het hy geskryf. Die polisie in Dallas het verklarings oor die kommunistiese samesweringsteorie uitgereik, en dit was hulle wat in beheer was toe hy geskiet is en dus stilgemaak is.

Vier dae na die memorandum het Johnson 'n paar van die mees prominente figure van die land in die Warren -kommissie aangestel, wat uiteindelik tot die gevolgtrekking gekom het dat Oswald alleen opgetree het, 'n teorie wat steeds betwis word. Skeptici en samesweringsteoretici het Katzenbach se memo dikwels as 'n teken van 'n toesmeer van die regering aangehaal.

In Februarie 1965 het Johnson Katzenbach as sy prokureur -generaal aangewys, maar hy het die pos minder as twee jaar beklee. van die staat, 'n pos wat hy vir die res van die Johnson -administrasie beklee het en wat tot 'n ongelukkige verstrengeling met die Viëtnam -oorlog gelei het.

In getuienis voor die senaat se komitee vir buitelandse betrekkinge in 1967, het Katzenbach 'n omstrede verdediging van die wettigheid van die oorlog gemaak, met verwysing na die resolusie van die Golf van Tonkin uit 1964, wat die VSA in staat gestel het om aanvalle af te weer en verdere aggressie te voorkom. Die voorsitter van die komitee, senator J. William Fulbright, het betwis dat die Tonkin -resolusie - aangeneem voordat die VSA grondtroepe na Viëtnam gestuur het - 'n formele oorlogsverklaring was.

& quot Wat kon 'n oorlogsverklaring gedoen het wat die president duideliker gesag sou gegee het? & quot Katzenbach het geantwoord. Ek dink dit sou nie die baie beperkte doelwitte van die Verenigde State ten opsigte van Viëtnam om 'n verouderde fraseologie te gebruik om oorlog te verklaar, korrek weerspieël nie.

Katzenbach het geglo dat sy getuienis akkuraat was, maar erken dat dit ongewild was. Philip Roth en Jules Feiffer was een van die kunstenaars wat 'n volbladkoerantadvertensie uitgehaal het waarin hy sy opmerkings veroordeel het. Sen Eugene McCarthy van Minnesota sou Katzenbach noem as 'n rede vir die verkiesing in 1968 as 'n anti-oorlogskandidaat, 'n besluit wat gehelp het om Johnson te oortuig om nie 'n tweede termyn te soek nie.

Feiffer onthou in sy herinnering "Backing Forward Forward" dat hy met Katzenbach gepraat het tydens 'n partytjie wat deur die skrywer William Styron gehou is en verseker is dat hy teen die oorlog is en dit probeer beëindig.

Ek het toevallig een oggend die TV aangeskakel, nie meer as 'n week nadat ek Nick ontmoet het nie, & quot; Feiffer het geskryf, & quotand - my God! - daar was hy, wat voor senator William Fulbright se komitee vir buitelandse betrekkinge staan, en sy hand opsteek om die eed af te lê. My nuwe vriend, Nicholas deB. Katzenbach, wat naarstiglik getuig het ter ondersteuning van die Tonkin-golfresolusie, wat totale administratiewe magte aan die administrasie verleen het, 'n volskaalse onderskrywing van oop eskalasie. Sê dit is nie so nie, Nick! & Quot

Katzenbach het ook vasgevang geraak in die nare stryd tussen sy voormalige baas, Robert Kennedy, en Johnson. In sy memoires van 2008 & quotSome of It Was Fun, & quot, skryf Katzenbach oor 'n vergadering in die Withuis wat hy gehelp het om te reël en te kyk hoe die twee stry oor Vietnam. Kennedy, wat 'n Amerikaanse senator van New York geword het, het Viëtnam besoek en voorgestel dat 'n onderhandelde skikking moontlik is. Johnson beskuldig hom daarvan dat hy die VSA verswak het

& quotJy het bloed op jou hande! & quot Katzenbach onthou hoe die president skree. Kennedy, 'bleek met onderdrukte woede', het die kamer verlaat.

In 1969, nadat die Johnson-administrasie beëindig is, word Katzenbach die algemene raadgewer van IBM en help hy die rekenaarreus in sy lang stryd teen 'n regsgeding teen die trust wat uiteindelik deur die regering aanhangig gemaak word. Hy dien ook in die hervormingspanele van die gevangenis en bly aktief in die nasionale demokratiese politiek en grondwetlike aangeleenthede. In Desember 1998 neem hy deel aan 'n betoging in Princeton teen die Republikeinse pogings om president Clinton te beskuldig en spreek hy ook as getuie vir die president.

Ek vind dit baie ontmoedigend as ordentlike Republikeine nie die moed het om op te staan ​​en te sê: 'Nee, ons sal dit nie doen nie', 'het Katzenbach destyds gesê.

In Junie 2005 het Katzenbach en drie ander voormalige prokureur-generaals-saam met byna 160 ander amptenare van die departement van justisie en federale regters-'n 'vriend van die hof' onderteken wat 'n vonnis van 55 jaar aan Weldon Angelos, 'n man in Utah, wou onttrek. skuldig bevind aan die dra van 'n pistool tydens 'n reeks dagga-transaksies en 13 ander aanklagte van dwelm- en geldwassery.

In die brief word opgemerk dat die kongres die reg het om verpligte minimum vonnisse in te stel, maar dat die vonnis wat grootliks buite verhouding is met die misdaad en tot wrede en ongewone straf kom.

'N Paneel met drie regters van die tiende Amerikaanse appèlhof het die argumente verwerp in 'n uitspraak wat in Januarie 2006 uitgereik is, en gesê dat die vonniswet grondwetlik die Kongres se voorneme weerspieël om misdade met dwelms en gewere ernstig te straf. Katzenbach sou later 'n afsku spreek oor wat hy die politisering van die departement van justisie onder president George W. Bush genoem het.

Nicholas deBelleville Katzenbach is in 1922 in Philadelphia gebore uit 'n familie van politici. Sy middelnaam, met die ongewone afkorting deB., Kom van 'n voorvader wat as dokter by Napoleon se broer gedien het voordat hy na die VSA emigreer

Katzenbach het tydens die Tweede Wêreldoorlog in die Army Air Force gedien en twee jaar as krygsgevangene in Italië deurgebring. Hy studeer later aan die Princeton -universiteit en die Yale Law School en studeer twee jaar aan die Universiteit van Oxford as 'n Rhodes -geleerde.

Die grootste deel van die vyftigerjare was Katzenbach professor in die regte, eers aan Yale, daarna aan die Universiteit van Chicago. Hy was met verlof, in Switserland, toe John F. Kennedy in 1960 die benoeming van die Demokrate vir president ontvang het.

Kennedy was 'n junior offisier in die Tweede Wêreldoorlog, net soos ek was. En dit was 'n baie sterk trek vir jong veterane wat uit die Tweede Wêreldoorlog teruggekeer het, 'het Katzenbach in 2008 aan The Associated Press gesê.

Katzenbach het sy mede -Yale -alum Byron White gebel en is aangesê om na Washington te kom. Nadat hy ondervra is deur Robert Kennedy (wat hom as "professor Katzenbach" toegespreek het), is hy aangestel as hoof van die departement van justisie se kantoor van regsadvies.

Dit was 'n opwindende tyd, 'het Katzenbach aan die AP gesê. Daar was baie jongmense wat betrokke geraak het by burgerregte, en later in protes teen die Viëtnam -oorlog, dat hulle betrokke was by die regering en wat in hul eie toekoms aangaan. Na my mening is dit wat dit 'n wonderlike land maak. & Quot


Nicholas Katzenbach - sleutelpolitieke figuur - sterf

1 van 8 LêER - In hierdie lêerfoto van 17 Augustus 1967 getuig die minister van buitelandse sake, Nicholas Katzenbach, voor die senaatskomitee vir buitelandse betrekkinge wat 'n resolusie bestudeer om die kongres meer mag in buitelandse aangeleenthede te gee en sê dat die president die beste buitelandse sake mag ingevolge die Grondwet. Katzenbach, wat invloedryke poste in die Kennedy- en Johnson -administrasies beklee het en 'n prominente, televisie -rol gespeel het in die federale desegregasiepogings in die Suide, is op Dinsdag 8 Mei 2012 oorlede. Hy was 90. (AP Photo/Henry Griffin) Henry Griffin/Associated Druk Wys meer Wys minder

2 of 8 FILE - In this Jan. 17, 1966 file photo, Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach, center, stands with Solicitor General Thurgood Marshall, left, and Assistant Attorney General John Doar as he arrives at the Supreme Court Building in Washington to defend the legality of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. Katzenbach, who held influential posts in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations and played a prominent, televised role in federal desegregation efforts in the South, died Tuesday, May 8, 2012. He was 90. (AP Photo) Associated Press Show More Show Less

4 of 8 FILE - This Aug. 23, 1965 file photo shows Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach in his office at the Department of Justice in Washington. Katzenbach, who held influential posts in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations and played a prominent, televised role in federal desegregation efforts in the South, died Tuesday, May 8, 2012. He was 90. (AP Photo) Associated Press Show More Show Less

5 of 8 FILE - In this June 11, 1963 file photo, U.S. Deputy Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach second right, confronts Alabama Gov. George C. Wallace, standing in front of a door to keep blacks from enrolling at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala. Katzenbach, who held influential posts in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations and played a prominent, televised role in federal desegregation efforts in the South, died Tuesday, May 8, 2012. He was 90. (AP Photo/Tuscaloosa News, Calvin Hannah) Calvin Hannah/Associated Press Show More Show Less

7 of 8 FILE - In this June 11, 1963 file photo, Alabama Gov. George C. Wallace, left, raises his hand to stop U.S. Deputy Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach as Wallace stands in front of a door to keep blacks from enrolling at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa, Ala. Katzenbach, who held influential posts in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations and played a prominent, televised role in federal desegregation efforts in the South, died Tuesday, May 8, 2012. He was 90. (AP Photo/Tuscaloosa News, Calvin Hannah) Associated Press Show More Show Less

Nicholas Katzenbach, whose eight years in the Kennedy and Johnson administrations helped shape some of the most important events of the 1960s, has died. He was 90.

Mr. Katzenbach died Tuesday at his home in Skillman, N.J. Mr. Katzenbach's son, John, said his father "passed away with the same quiet dignity that he displayed throughout his life."

Mr. Katzenbach's time in government was like a history of government in the 1960s: The Bay of Pigs. The Cuban Missile Crisis. Integration of schools. The Warren Report. The Civil Rights Act. Vietnam.

"He was a key figure in so many of the most crucial moments in both the Kennedy and Johnson administrations," said author Robert Caro, whose fourth volume in his series on Lyndon Johnson, "The Passage of Power," was recently released.

Caro said while researching his books, he found himself again and again calling upon Mr. Katzenbach for information.

Mr. Katzenbach was in his early 40s when he joined the Justice Department in 1961 under Attorney General Robert Kennedy. The graduate of Princeton and Yale and former prisoner of war had the intellect and resolve that the Kennedys valued. He soon joined Burke Marshall, future Supreme Court Justice Byron White and future Watergate prosecutor Archibald Cox among others during what is regarded as a brief, golden era for the department.

Mr. Katzenbach wrote a legal brief in support of President John F. Kennedy's decision to blockade Cuba during the 1962 missile crisis and helped secure the release of prisoners captured during the disastrous Bay of Pigs raid on Cuba in 1961. He became a deputy attorney general in 1963 and, after Kennedy's assassination, served as attorney general and undersecretary of state under President Lyndon Johnson.

Mr. Katzenbach, who helped Johnson pass the 1964 Civil Rights Act, had been the Kennedy administration's point man when James Meredith became the first black student to enroll at the University of Mississippi in 1962.

The following year, he was the federal official on hand when segregationist Alabama Gov. George Wallace made his infamous "stand in the schoolhouse door" - symbolically attempting to block two black students, Vivian Malone and James Hood, from entering the University of Alabama.


Nicholas Katzenbach dies: Lawyer, who served as attorney general, shaped civil rights policy in 1960s

Nicholas deB. Katzenbach, an unflappable lawyer who served as the Kennedy brothers’ emissary to the South during the violent confrontations over racial segregation in the early 1960s and who later was an architect of landmark civil rights laws and Vietnam War policy under President Lyndon Johnson, died May 8 at his home in Skillman, N.J. He was 90.

He had been in failing health since breaking a hip in December, said his wife, Lydia Stokes Katzenbach.

A hulk of a man with a penchant for rumpled suits, Mr. Katzenbach was a law professor at the University of Chicago and Yale before joining the Kennedy administration in 1961. He built a reputation during his years in government as a sure-footed problem-solver who was called on to deal with many of the public crises that defined the 1960s.

He wrote a key midnight brief during the Cuban missile crisis, challenged FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover over the wiretapping of civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr., conceived of the Warren Commission to investigate President John F. Kennedy’s assassination, and argued with some of the most powerful federal officials over how to extricate the country from the Vietnam War.

He is perhaps most widely remembered for his role as a graceful negotiator during political and physical altercations over court-ordered desegregation in the South.

In the early 1960s, Kennedy and his brother, Attorney General Robert Kennedy, feared that sending military troops to force integration of public institutions would spark an anti-Democrat revolution in the South. So they twice turned to Mr. Katzenbach, then deputy attorney general, to lead federal marshals in securing safe passage for black students attempting to register at previously all-white schools.

“Hey, Nick. Don’t worry if you get shot,” Robert Kennedy quipped as Mr. Katzenbach left Washington to oversee the enrollment of a black student, James Meredith, at the University of Mississippi in 1962. “The president needs a moral issue.”

When Meredith arrived at Ole Miss, the campus erupted in a race riot that lasted 15 hours and ended only after Mr. Katzenbach, who sent urgent communiques to Washington via collect calls from a campus pay phone, persuaded the Kennedys to send in 25,000 U.S. soldiers.

Onlookers wielding rocks, lead pipes and rifles laid siege to Mr. Katzenbach and his 400 federal marshals, who took refuge in the basement of a university administrative building. Mr. Katzenbach became the de facto field general, directing the marshals to refrain from resorting to gunfire even as the violence left dozens injured and two dead, a French journalist and a curious bystander.

Meredith, who survived the riots in his guarded dormitory room, ultimately enrolled.

Mr. Katzenbach stepped outside into the detritus of the chaos — broken glass, bricks and baseball bats — and gave an interview to a Canadian television reporter.

“He stood in the sunlight and gently, graciously and without imputation of evil designs to anybody, he described what was happening on TV in French,” fellow Justice Department employee James Symington later recalled. “He had the sang-froid to do this.”

Mr. Katzenbach later said he thought he had failed the Kennedys utterly because of the violence.

In June 1963, Mr. Katzenbach navigated a similarly explosive situation when segregationist Gov. George Wallace planted himself in the doorway of the University of Alabama to block two black students from registering. Rather than escorting the students to a dangerous and politically messy showdown — the Kennedys did not want to antagonize the South by arresting a sitting governor for defying court-ordered integration — Mr. Katzenbach approached Wallace alone in the searing Tuscaloosa heat.

Mr. Katzenbach bent over the considerably shorter Alabama governor, who launched into a diatribe against the “central government” within view of the assembled TV cameras. Wallace, who had presidential ambitions, got the national media attention he was seeking.

But Mr. Katzenbach achieved his aim, too. The students were sent to their dormitories — Mr. Katzenbach had procured their room keys by telling university officials that Justice officials needed to do a security sweep — and registered without incident later that day.

Mr. Katzenbach’s performance in Alabama earned him admiration from the Kennedys and a public reputation as a “courageous egghead, committed activist and intellectual who put principle ahead of expediency, public good before personal safety,” wrote journalist Victor S. Navasky in a 1971 New York Times profile.

That night in a nationally televised address, President Kennedy called for a comprehensive civil rights bill. Mr. Katzenbach largely wrote that bill, and his soft-pedal salesmanship was crucial in passing it over a Senate filibuster in 1964.

Mr. Katzenbach was successful at least in part because “he was not an idealogue who alienated people,” civil rights historian Taylor Branch said. “Like any good lawyer, he could see people coming from the other side and figure out some kind of accommodation to move the whole thing forward.”

After Robert Kennedy resigned as attorney general in fall 1964, Mr. Katzenbach was named to the post and served for two years under Johnson.

Mr. Katzenbach continued to address civil rights issues, particularly at the bloody march from Selma to Montgomery, Ala. He was also the president’s key partner in writing and passing the 1965 Voting Rights Act, which established direct and extensive federal oversight of elections to ensure fair voter registration practices.

As the Vietnam War began to dominate policy discussions and protests, Mr. Katzenbach volunteered for a demotion, leaving his Cabinet position to become undersecretary of state in 1966. At the time, he said he could no longer serve as attorney general because of his deteriorating relationship with Hoover, with whom he had clashed over the wiretapping of King’s phones and hotel rooms.

In his 2008 memoir, “Some of It Was Fun,” Mr. Katzenbach offered a different reason for his resignation: The work at Justice had begun to feel less urgent than ending the war in Vietnam. “It seemed to me from afar and ignorance that there ought to be a way to put the killing to an end,” he wrote. “If so, I would like to try.”

Behind the scenes, particularly after visiting Saigon, Vietnam, himself, he tried to push the war toward a negotiated peace as a member of Johnson’s informal war cabinet. But publicly, he was seen as an apologist for the bloody stalemate after he told a Senate subcommittee that although Congress hadn’t formally declared war, it had legally authorized Johnson’s escalation of the conflict when it passed the Tonkin Gulf Resolution in 1964.

That resolution, issued in response to an alleged attack on U.S. naval ships by North Vietnamese forces, came at Johnson’s urging to express “the unity and determination of the United States in supporting freedom and in protecting peace in Southeast Asia.” Doves in Congress were livid that Johnson, via Mr. Katzenbach, used it to justify war.

Mr. Katzenbach left government at the end of Johnson’s administration in early 1969. “I felt that I’d been something of a failure in the State,” he later recalled. “I went over there to try to get us out of Vietnam, which was probably a very arrogant thing to think I could do.”

Nicholas deBelleville Katzenbach was born Jan. 17, 1922, in Philadelphia. He grew up in Trenton, N.J., where his mother was a member of the state board of education for 44 years and its president for nine. His father, who died when Mr. Katzenbach was 12, was a lawyer and state attorney general.

Mr. Katzenbach graduated from the private Phillips Exeter Academy and enrolled at Princeton University in 1939. After the 1941 attack on Pearl Harbor, he left school to join the U.S. Army Air Forces as a navigator.

In 1943, he was shot down during a Mediterranean bombing mission. He spent the next two years as a prisoner of war in Italy and Germany, escaping twice, only to be recaptured both times. While incarcerated, he spent 18 hours a day reading books provided by the YMCA and the International Red Cross.

“I really said to myself,” Mr. Katzenbach later recalled, “if I get out of this, I’m going to try to do something in this world, not make a fool out of myself.”

After the war, he returned to Princeton and was allowed to graduate almost immediately based on the strength of his examinations and senior thesis.

In 1946, he married Lydia Stokes. Besides his wife, of Skillman, survivors include four children, Christopher Katzenbach of Mill Valley, Calif., John Katzenbach of Amherst, Mass., Maria Katzenbach of Portland, Ore., and Anne Katzenbach of New York City and six grandchildren.

Mr. Katzenbach received a law degree in 1947 from Yale, where he served as editor of the law review, and then won a Rhodes Scholarship to Balliol College at Oxford.

He was recruited to the Kennedy administration by Byron White, a top Justice Department official and old law school friend who later was named to the U.S. Supreme Court. After his government career, Mr. Katzenbach became general counsel for IBM, leading the company’s legal team during one of the longest antitrust cases in U.S. history. The suit, which sought to break the computer giant into several companies, ground along for 13 years until the Reagan Justice Department dropped it in 1982, saying it was “without merit.”

He retired from IBM and went on to investigate the October 1987 stock market collapse for the New York Stock Exchange. In 1990, he took over as chairman of Washington’s First American Bankshares, when the bank was mired in turmoil and corruption.

Later, after the country entered the Iraq war, he expressed his desire for a return to consensus and compromise in Washington.

“Being members of political parties does not relieve our legislators of their responsibilities to all constituents, not merely those who supported or helped to finance their candidacies,” he said in 2003, speaking at Ole Miss four decades after the violence there. “Ideologues of any stripe make poor protectors of fundamental freedoms.”


Nicholas Katzenbach, Unsung Hero of America's Desegregation

When we think back upon the Civil Rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s we usually think of the marches and the fire hoses, of Martin Luther King and Eugene "Bull" Connor, of Brown v. Onderwysraad and Southern judges and grandiloquent presidential proclamations. We seldom think about the dedicated and loyal men and women of the federal government who literally, often at great personal peril, enforced the new desegregation policies.

One of these brave public servants, a true American hero, was Nicholas Katzenbach, who died Tuesday night in New Jersey at the age of 90. The obituaries note that he served as the 65th attorney general of the United States, under President Lyndon Johnson, but even if Katzenbach had never worked a day in his life after 1965 his place in American history would have been secured. When it came to the ugliness of race in America, when it came to the battleground, he both talked the talk and walked the walk.

It was Nicolas Katzenbach, Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy's main man at the Justice Department, who bounded up the steps of Foster Auditorium at the University of Alabama in June 1963 to face Governor George Wallace, the unrepentant segregationist, who had pledged to block the registration of two black students to the college. Here's the audio of that momentous confrontation. Here is the video of it. It is both chilling and inspiring to experience today. Here's what Katzenbach told the popular Southern governor after Wallace had made his "stand:"

You stand upon that statement. Governor, I'm not interested in a show, I don't know what the purpose of the show is. I am interested in the orders of these courts being enforced, that is my only responsibility here. I ask you once more, the choice is yours. There is no choice that the United States government has in this, but to see that the lawful orders of its court are enforced. The consequences of your stand must rest with you, the choice is yours .

A year earlier, it was Nicholas Katzenbach who had parachuted into Mississippi to help get James Meredith enrolled at the University of Mississippi. What was the atmosphere like in Oxford at the time? Awful. Violent. Full of hate and rage. Here's how the Times' Claude Sitton saw it on October 1, 1962:

OXFORD, Miss., Oct. 1 -- James H. Meredith, a Negro, enrolled in the University of Mississippi today and began classes as Federal troops and federalized units of the Mississippi National Guard quelled a 15-hour riot. A force of more than 3,000 soldiers and guardsmen and 400 deputy United States marshals fired rifles and hurled tear-gas grenades to stop the violent demonstrations.

It was Katzenbach who played intermediary on voting rights between the Kennedy Administration and racist Mississippi senator James Eastland. It was Katzenbach who cajoled the appellate judges of the 5th Circuit to stand firm against persistent state defiance of federal court orders. It was Katzenbach who pushed for Section 5 of the Voting Rights Act, the "pre-clearance" provision so often in the news today. It was Kaztenbach whom Lyndon Johnson turned to for guidance in March 1965 after the police attacked civil rights protestors on the Edmund Pettus Bridge.

From the federal perspective, Katzenbach was the Forrest Gump of the Civil Rights movement. He rounded off RFK's harsh side and put teeth into JFK's style. He put the words in LBJ's mouth and took the words right out of the mouths of dozens of state officials who had vowed never to integrate their public places. Katzenbach accomplished this because he was smart, and self-deprecating, and because he looked like he could have been anyone's uncle. He fought hate not with love but with measured tones and a calm demeanor. In a time of great chaos, he was always a reasonable man.

It's one thing to honor the brave men and women who marched and sang and bled for racial equality-- and who still do today. It's quite another thing to honor those public officials, like Katzenbach, who helped the country achieve a measure of integration because it was their job to do so, because they had sworn an oath to do so, and because they believed that the lawlessness of the Southern response to desegregation was a threat to the rule of law. The same can and should be said of Burke Marshall and Archibald Cox and Bryon White and John Doar-- and only Doar is still with us today.

Like these other icons, World War II veterans all, Katzenbach represented the "boots on the ground" concept we've made popular today overseas. And his success as a tribune of the law should be measured not just by the violence he (largely) helped to avoid but also by the number of black students who enroll today without so much as a hiccup in Southern colleges. The law is only as real and as strong as are the men and women of good faith who are willing to sacrifice their safety to enforce it. As Katzenbach showed over and over again during those fractious times he was well worthy of that sacred trust.


Nicholas Katzenbach, N.J. native who worked under JFK and LBJ, dies at 90

Library of Congress Deputy U.S. Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach, standing at right, confronts Alabama Gov. George Wallace in this 1963 photo.

Nicholas deB. Katzenbach, who famously faced down Alabama Gov. George Wallace on the steps of the University of Alabama, fought the FBI over wiretapping Martin Luther King Jr., was a trusted adviser to two presidents and enhanced the legacy of an already distinguished New Jersey family, died Tuesday night at his home in Skillman. He was 90.

He had been in failing health since breaking a hip last December, said his wife, Lydia Stokes Katzenbach.

Katzenbach, a graduate of Princeton and Yale, was brought to Washington by Robert Kennedy, who was looking for young, intelligent, passionate attorneys to staff his justice department.

In Katzenbach, Kennedy found his man.

Die Baai van Varke. The Cuban Missile Crisis. Integration of schools. The Warren Report. The Civil Rights Act. Vietnam. Katzenbach played a significant role in the defining moments of the decade.

"Throughout his long and singular career in the nation’s service, Nicholas Katzenbach combined realism, loyalty, and supreme equability with a bedrock devotion to principle, especially on civil rights," said Princeton University history professor Sean Wilentz, a longtime friend. "He was one of his generation’s giants, and history will remember him."

Katzenbach’s son, John, said his father "passed away with the same quiet dignity that he displayed throughout his life."

Despite his legendary career, Katzenbach showed no pretense, colleagues said.

"He never attempted to show his brilliance, he didn’t try to dazzle you," said retired state Supreme Court justice Stewart Pollock. "He didn’t have to. If you met him and didn’t know what he had done or who he had been, you wouldn’t have guessed it."

Nicholas deBelleville Katzenbach was born in Philadelphia in 1922 to a prominent New Jersey family. He was the younger of two sons born to Edward Lawrence Katzenbach and the former Marie Louise Hilson. His father was a corporate lawyer and New Jersey’s attorney general from 1924-29. He died when Nicholas was 12. His mother was a member of the New Jersey state board of education for 44 years and its president for a decade. His middle name, with the unusual abbreviation deB., came from a forebear who had served as physician to Napoleon’s brother before emigrating to the United States.

Almost from the moment he arrived in Washington, Katzenbach was beset by tense moments and complicated legal battles with national and international implications. He wrote a brief supporting President John F. Kennedy’s decision to blockade Cuba during the 1962 missile crisis and helped secure the release of prisoners captured during the Bay of Pigs raid in 1961.

He became a deputy attorney general in 1963. In June of that year, the nation watched as he marched up the steps of the University of Alabama and confronted Wallace.

Wearing a suit, and with his bald-head glistening in the stifling southern sun, Katzenbach approached Foster auditorium, flanked by a federal marshal and a U.S. attorney. Wallace stood behind a lectern surrounded by white supporters. He stood opposed to federal authority to integration, symbolically attempting to block two black students from entering the university.

The picture of the two men facing one another became one of the era’s most sigmature images.

Katzenbach, at 6-foot-2, bent over the considerably shorter governor, who launched into a diatribe against the "central government" within view of the assembled television cameras.

Wallace, who had presidential ambitions, received the media attention he was seeking. But Katzenbach achieved something with far more lasting implications.

The two students were sent to their dormitories — Katzenbach had procured their room keys by saying Justice officials needed to do a security sweep — and registered without incident.

After Kennedy’s assassination, Katzenbach served under President Lyndon Johnson. His first assignment produced another lasting image. Johnson wanted to be sworn in as soon as possible. Katzenbach, in Washington, did not think a ceremony was needed, but agreed to read a Johnson aid the exact wording of the oath of office. The grim picture of Johnson being sworn in, with Jacqueline Kennedy at his side, was seared into the national conscious.

It was Katzenbach who insisted the FBI’s investigation into Kennedy assassination be made public to quell the rumor Lee Harvey Oswald had been part of a conspiracy.

"Speculation about Oswald’s motivation ought to be cut off," Katzenbach wrote in a memo three days after the assassination, "and we should have some basis for rebutting thought that this was a Communist conspiracy or (as the Iron Curtain press is saying) a right-wing conspiracy to blame it on the communists."

In February 1965, Johnson picked Katzenbach as his attorney general, but he held the post for less than two years, feuding with FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover. A short time later, he was named an Undersecretary of State, a post he held for the remainder of the Johnson administration.

Katzenbach became IBM’s general counsel and helped represent the company in its fight against an anti-trust lawsuit filed by the government and eventually dismissed.

Resigning from IBM in 1986, Katzenbach went into private practice at the New Jersey-based firm of Riker, Danzig, Scherer, Hyland & Perretti.

There, he was the scholar with the corner office, recalled Glenn Clark, now a partner at the firm. The younger attorneys would walk into that office with a problem and emerge with a solution.

"You would go to discuss cases with him and he would always see an angle, a different way to approach it," Clark said. "He was a master at reducing tension, of getting into the middle and working things out."

Katzenbach’s children have moved out of the state. But several members of his family still live in Mercer County. Charles B. Katzenbach Jr., 63, an artist and home builder who lives in Hopewell, is a first cousin once removed.

Katzenbach said he did work on his elderly cousin’s homes in Princeton and Martha’s Vineyard, and on the apartment in a retirement home in Skillman where he spent the final months of his life.

"He would know the name of every plumber’s helper, and was and genuinely concerned about them," Katzenbach said."He had a tremendous wit, and even when he had trouble speaking, he had a twinkle in his eye and would acknowledge what was said that he was completely with it.

"I saw Nick last week," he said. "I mentioned to him that he had done for this country more than anybody knew."

Star-Ledger staff writer Steve Strunsky and Star-Ledger wire services contributed to this report.


Nicholas Katzenbach, shaped US policy in ’60s

In 1967, as undersecretary of state, Nicholas Katzenbach testified before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Henry Griffin/Associated Press/Associated Press

NEW YORK - Nicholas deB. Katzenbach, who helped shape the political history of the 1960s, facing down segregationists, riding herd on historic civil rights legislation, and helping to map Vietnam War strategy as a central player in both the Kennedy and Johnson administrations, died Tuesday night at his home in Skillman, N.J. He was 90.

His death was confirmed by his wife, Lydia.

Mr. Katzenbach was one of the “best and the brightest,’’ David Halberstam’s term for the likes of Robert McNamara, McGeorge Bundy, Walt Rostow, and other ambitious, cerebral and often idealistic postwar policy makers who came to Washington from business and academia carrying golden credentials. Mr. Katzenbach, an attorney general under President Lyndon B. Johnson, was the son of a New Jersey state attorney general, a Rhodes scholar, a law professor at Yale and the University of Chicago, and a war hero.

His government service virtually encompassed the issues of the ’60s. He advised President John F. Kennedy during the Cuban missile crisis, negotiated the release of Cuban prisoners captured during the Bay of Pigs invasion, and pushed for an independent commission to investigate the Kennedy assassination. He was Robert F. Kennedy’s top lieutenant in the Justice Department and took on the pugnacious FBI director J. Edgar Hoover over his wiretapping of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Before Congress, as an undersecretary of state, he defended Johnson’s escalation of the Vietnam War.

Perhaps his most tense moment in government came on June 11, 1963, when he confronted George C. Wallace in stifling heat on the steps of the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa. Wallace was the Alabama governor who had trumpeted “segregation now, segregation tomorrow, segregation forever’’ and vowed to block the admission of two black students “at the schoolhouse door.’’

Mr. Katzenbach, flanked by a federal marshal and a US attorney, approached Foster Auditorium, the main building on campus, around 11 a.m. Wallace was waiting behind a lectern at the top of the stairs, surrounded by a crowd of whites, some armed.

“Stop!’’ he called out, raising his hand like a traffic cop.

Mr. Katzenbach read a presidential proclamation ordering that the students be admitted and asked the governor to step aside peacefully. Wallace read a five-minute statement castigating “the central government’’ for “suppression of rights.’’

Towering over Wallace, Mr. Katzenbach, a 6-foot-2-inch former hockey goalie, was dismissive. “I’m not interested in this show,’’ he said.

The students were registered about four hours later.

On Capitol Hill, Mr. Katzenbach, a devoted Democrat, cultivated the good will of Republican senators in 1964 to help pass the landmark 1964 Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act of 1965, which he also helped draft.

As attorney general, besides helping to draft and steer civil rights legislation through Congress, Mr. Katzenbach also defended the 1964 Civil Rights Act before the Supreme Court, winning a 9-0 ruling.

As undersecretary of state, the second-ranking post at the State Department, Mr. Katzenbach defended the legality of United States involvement in Vietnam.

Opponents of the war had hoped that he would be a devil’s advocate, challenging the administration’s policies from within. Mr. Katzenbach took a quieter tack, setting up a secret working group to pursue ways to end the war. He later said the group had added shades of gray to policy discussions and had contributed to bombing halts.


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