November 22nd marks the half-centenary milepost since the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in Dallas, an event that perhaps more than any other, is symbolic of the second half of the 20th century and the 'hyper-real' media landscape that grew like an additional ozone layer around the earth in consequence.
It is perhaps one of the most documented, analysed and debated single events of the last fifty years, and yet I would argue that in 2013 its real legacy resides, not in the repercussions of the event per se, but with the lasting impact on the mediarised 'image' as a wholly distinct entity capable of endless manipulation and exploitation.
Never before had the mass media, physical reality and the collective imagination fused together in a profound symbiosis that would leave such an indelible imprint upon the psyche of America, and to a certain extent, the wider world. Abraham Zapruder's infamous filmed footage provided the template for the endless reproductions and contexts in which it would be used from then on; its ubiquitous presence sinking deep within the public consciousness. In a sense, it galvanised the media organism like no other event had done previously; the bullet fired into the head of Kennedy was in essence the starting pistol for the media race that would go on to dominate the rest of the 1960s, with the Vietnam War and the moon landings being broadcast and reproduced on TV screens the world over.
Of course this vast media expansion was already in full flow, nonetheless, it can legitimately be judged that the Kennedy assassination - which harnassed all the fundamental dramatic components - from death and conspiracy to power and glamour - was the defining event, the final act of a Shakespearean tragedy captured frame-by-frame, that was needed to commodify and turn reality into artificial 'spectacle' for the purposes of mass consumption.
It became the blueprint for the 'captured event' compulsive obsession that pervades in 2013 when it seems everyone has the capability and inclination to record and distribute anything and everything at any given time. The obvious 'spectacular event' with which to draw comparison is 9/11. Again, a shocking and epochal event that was played and replayed across the world via the mass media landscape; thereby, scorching the images into the consciousness of everyone from that point on.
Leaving aside the limitless recyclability of the event, in thinking about it over the last few days, I began to query whether the events of Dealey Plaza in 1963 really warrant such unbridled notoriety? And what relevance, if any, does the assassination of JFK have to someone like me born in 1989, or to someone born today in 2013?
I would argue very little (aside from the aforementioned impact on the media landscape that it helped to fertilise). At the end of the day, the stark reality of the event is that it was the death of one man. Indeed, that man was the president of the leading world power, but nevertheless, it was one individual. The political ramifications in the aftermath were nothing like as severe as the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in 1914, or, one could argue, of Martin Luther King in 1968 which was seen as an attack on the whole social movement of which he had been appointed spokesman.
Of infinitely more devastating universal implication was an event that took place only a year earlier. It seems curious to me that this colossal event, which for the first time brought the planet within inexorable proximity to its own destruction, appears to have been relegated somewhat in the league tables and its legacy diluted by the admixture of history. If JFK holds relatively minor significance for the children born into the 21st century, then the events of the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962 have faded even further into the background. In fact, I barely remember it featuring on my school history syllabus to any great extent.
My theory for the reasons behind this are based on the comparable scale of events. JFK's death came almost pre-packaged with all the elements of a Hollywood conspiracy thriller, together with Oswald's murder and the sensationalist Warren Commission that followed, as a 'human tragedy' that the collective imagination could invest in on a recognisable emotional level. The contemplation of such closeness to 'mutually assured destruction' (MAD) is on far too vast a scale for humans to psychologically grapple with on any meaningful grounding, it simply doesn't accord with any familiar level of reality.
This is the same reason why on any real scale the Space Age, according to J.G. Ballard -
'...lasted barely 15 years, from Gagarin's first flight in 1961 to the first Apollo splashdown not shown live on TV in 1975, a consequence of the public's loss of interest'.
The exploration of space was just too advanced a contemplation for easily digestible mass consumption, being literally not-of-this-earth, and therefore nowhere near as resonant or captivating as the more orthodox humanistic drama of the political assassination; a nation's grief at the loss of their glamorous figurehead.
Consider 'Black Saturday', when a Soviet submarine armed with nuclear warheads was prevented from surfacing by American fighter planes, leading them to believe a nuclear war had begun and nearly resulting in them launching their missiles. If humankind were able to fully grasp the cataclysmic implications of 'Black Saturday' I believe it could have been a ground-breaking moment, a transcendent mass-realisation of the folly of war, the nature of man and the fragile biosphere in which he has been allotted to exist.
It could have been a moment in which ideology, prejudice, and politics all took a substantial step backward, as we subsequently tried to move trepidatiously forward in a brave new world of co-existance, tolerance and appreciation of just how fallible and precious life is.
In reality, it has had nothing even close to such an influence; men still wage war, still refuse to take the decisive steps necessary to reverse or tackle environmental destruction, and nations still seem intent on developing and hoarding nuclear arms whilst concurrently, sections of their societies suffer from hunger and disease.
The assassination of JFK was of course a momentous event, a defining media spectacle. And yet I can't help but find its persistent resonance 50 years on to be ever so slightly misguided when you consider that the vast majority of people on Earth will never have heard of Vasili Arkhipov, the man who, if reports are to be believed, prevented our very own suicide.
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