The Kennedys: Back from Chappaquiddick

After a month’s hiatus, all of the unanswered questions were due to take shape again this week as the Massachusetts Supreme Court meets to consider whether—and on what ground rules—an inquest will be held into the death of Mary Jo Kopechne. Yet the issues of the case have been more psychological and political than legal. Ever since Edward Kennedy’s black sedan dropped off the Dike Bridge on Chappaquiddick on July 18, the question of guilt or innocence—or at least a sort of non-guilt—has been tried in the national mind, and in Kennedy’s.

The popular verdict is difficult to discern and could still be considerably altered if Kennedy, at an inquest or in some other forum, can provide a more complete explanation of his behavior on Chappaquiddick. Kennedy is privately convinced that he will eventually be able to persuade millions of Americans of his innocence. But he is certain that an equal number will never believe him.

In his own mind, however, Kennedy has obviously learned to live with the tragedy of Mary Jo Kopechne’s death and his political misfortunes. In recent days, he has displayed a marked resilience. He has lost 20 lbs.—leading to a Capitol Hill sick joke: “There must be an easier way to lose weight.” He is clear-eyed, the puffy jowls are gone, his hair is razor-cut in the back with the sideburns shorter. His handshake is firm once more.

Last week, as Kennedy was rushing to a Senate-House conference, he encountered a couple with a teen-age daughter. When the father raised his camera, Kennedy asked, “Do you want a picture? Stand here with me.” The excited mother and daughter posed with Kennedy while the father snapped away. A few weeks ago, Kennedy would have walked by with his eyes on the floor.

Questions of Secrecy. He may have forsaken any presidential ambition for 1972, but Kennedy is now determined to prove that he deserves re-election next year as an active Senator. A nearly total immersion in Senate business has also acted as a kind of therapy. Occasionally, he fears that he has lost some effectiveness. During a hearing of his Senate Subcommittee on Administrative Practice and Procedure, for example, Kennedy upbraided Federal Trade Commission Chairman Paul Rand Dixon. Later in the hearing, Maryland Senator Charles Mathias defended Dixon against accusations of undue secrecy and suggested that the FTC practice of not publicizing complaints against various firms was akin to grand jury procedures—which are held in secret.

Although Mathias’ reference was unintentional, it reminded everyone present of Kennedy’s effort to avoid a public inquest. Kennedy looked downcast and did not pursue the matter of FTC secrecy any further. Similarly, Kennedy was uncharacteristically restrained during Judiciary Committee hearings on Judge Clement Haynsworth’s nomination to the Supreme Court.

Yet he was finding his confidence again on other fronts. As Democratic whip, Kennedy happily took over the majority leadership last week during a brief absence by Mike Mansfield. He skillfully managed to restore $3.9 million in committee to an education program for Eskimo and Indian children —and was scheduled to meet in New Mexico early this week with Indian leaders to discuss the bill. He floor-managed a National Science Foundation bill that resulted in a half-billion-dollar authorization. He led a fight to kill a $45 million appropriation to extend the west front of the Capitol, a particularly fatuous project promoted by some of the Senate’s leading Bourbons. Kennedy has also become once again one of the most prominent voices of dissent against the Administration’s Viet Nam policies.

Losing the Young. In his private life, Kennedy has also recovered some exuberance. He took time off last week to attend his son Teddy’s eighth birthday party—blowing up balloons and directing football games. He appears frequently at Washington parties now, although he generally does not stay long.

No one doubts that Kennedy’s national stature remains much diminished. A Gallup poll showed him running behind Maine’s Edmund Muskie and former Vice President Hubert Humphrey against Richard Nixon. The traditional Kennedy constituency—made up of the young, women, blacks—were especially disillusioned. His once unassailable power in Massachusetts has continued to slide, though Bay State Republicans probably have no hope of defeating him next year. And it remains possible that the reopening of the Kopechne case will damage him further.

For all that, Kennedy, if not the extravert he once was, is far from being the abject introvert that he became after Mary Jo Kopechne’s death. In a political sense, Kennedy seems to be learning to survive what might have seemed his certain destruction.