The Cuban Lesson - Ask, Learn, LeadJürgen Oschadleus MBA PMP® In 350 BC Greek philosopher
Aristotle identified three core components of
persuasion. He writes: “Now the proofs furnished
by the speech are of three kinds. The first
depends on the moral character [ethos]
of the speaker, the second upon putting the
hearer into a certain frame of mind [pathos],
the third upon the speech itself, in so far as
it proves or seems to prove [logos]”
(Rhetoric). In this series of articles,
project leadership authority and educator Jürgen
Oschadleus illustrates how effective leaders
utilise these three principles to build and
nurture their influence over the world around
them. “Ask not what your country can
do for you; ask what you can do for your country. My
fellow citizens of the world, ask not what America
will do for you, but what, together, we can do for
the freedom of man.” With these stirring words, John
Fitzgerald Kennedy became the 35th man to
take office as President of the USA on 20 January
1961, and by one of the narrowest margins on record.
In the next three years, he gained the respect of
many for his coolness under pressure, his eloquence
and inspirational speeches, and his compassion and
willingness to fight for new initiatives to assist
the poor, the elderly and the disadvantaged.
Kennedy's
death at the hands of an assassin on 22 November
1963 meant he did not live to see the fulfilment of
many of his “New Frontiers” domestic policy
initiatives and his search for new frontiers in
space, but his optimism and his passionate belief
that people could solve their common problems by
placing their country’s interests ahead of personal
gain set America on a sustained growth path in the
aftermath of the Second World War, and marked a
turning point in the Cold War. His leadership,
personality and courage remain a lasting legacy to
the US and the world.
Speaking at a forum marking the
40th anniversary of the Cuban Missile
Crisis, which had brought the world to the brink of
nuclear catastrophe, Kennedy’s special counsel and
advisor, Theodore Sorensen commented: “…what I learned about
presidential decision-making I learned at the feet
of a pretty good teacher, John F. Kennedy. And I
learned from him not to make a decision of life or
death, war or peace, without having all the
information, and having the opportunity to review
all the options” (Sorensen, “On the
Brink”, 20 October 2002).
Ironically, Kennedy himself had learned this
lesson following one of his biggest errors in
judgment – one which would haunt the rest of his
administration, and which prompted him to reflect:
“How could I have been so stupid?”
The Bay of Pigs Debacle At issue was a plan, conceived
by the CIA during the Eisenhower years, to arm and
train Cuban exiles to depose Fidel Castro. On 17
April 1961 over 1,400 invaders of the so-called
Brigade 2506 landed at Bahía de Cochinos (Bay
of Pigs) in what quickly became a rout. Lacking air
and naval artillery support, sufficient ammunition
and an escape route, approximately 100 were killed
and 1,200 captured by the waiting and highly
organised Cuban troops, who had been tipped off by
advance media reports. Hopes for a local uprising
never materialised, and Castro was driven further
into the arms of the Soviet Union, who offered to
protect the island against future American
invasions.
Multiple factors contributed to
the Bay of Pigs debacle, but underpinning them all
was a concept subsequently defined as “group think”
– flawed group dynamics that can allow bad ideas to
go unchallenged. Group think usually leads to faulty
decisions because it is the result of a desire for
conformity and concurrence within the leadership
group, at the expense of critical and objective
thinking. The lack of dialogue within the military
leadership meant the need for naval artillery
support was never discussed and the conditions on
the ground were never assessed.
The same lack of “dissenting”
ideas and objective scrutiny occurred at the Cabinet
level too. At one crucial meeting Kennedy asked each
member to vote for or against the invasion – each,
that is, except for his advisor, Arthur Schlesinger,
who had already expressed serious objections about
the plan in a number of private memoranda to
Kennedy. These concerns were never voiced openly,
and many Cabinet members simply assumed others were
in favour. And so the debacle was permitted to
occur.
“In the months
after the Bay of Pigs I bitterly reproached myself
for having kept so silent during those crucial
discussions in the cabinet room,” Schlesinger
subsequently confessed. “I can only explain my
failure to do more than raise a few timid questions
by reporting that one’s impulse to blow the whistle
on this nonsense was simply undone by our inability
to challenge one another and ask questions.”
The Cuban Missile Crisis For all the embarrassment and
challenges brought about by the failed invasion,
Kennedy learned the lesson and changed his
decision-making style to encourage questions,
dissent and critical evaluation. A year later it was
put to the test.
On 16 October 1962 Kennedy was
informed that a US spy plane had uncovered the
secret construction of a Soviet missile site on
Cuba. His Chiefs of Staff recommended an air strike
against the missile sites and other potentially
hostile targets. It was a tough choice: attack Cuba
and risk nuclear war with the USSR, or do nothing
and expose America to a direct nuclear threat from a
range which made pre-emptive strikes all but
impossible.
Unbeknown to the Americans,
Soviet commanders on the ground in Cuba already
possessed an ample supply of tactical nuclear
weapons and had the authority to use them in the
event of an American attack. Fortunately, the
youngest-ever incumbent of the White House, himself
a decorated war hero, stood up to his military
leaders and rather than engage in a shooting war, he
sought a solution that would minimise the
possibility of war. It was a time for cool heads,
persistent yet decisive leadership, and, above all,
crystal clear communication.
He imposed a quarantine zone
around Cuba, warning the international community
that no interference would be tolerated in this part
of the world and that any ship attempting to enter
Cuban waters would be stopped and searched. But
Kennedy also knew that communications were essential
if the missiles were to be removed without a large
loss of life on all sides. He immediately opened
active and concerted negotiations with his Soviet
counterpart, doing everything possible to ensure
Chairman Nikita Khrushchev would not feel himself
driven into a corner where his only choices were
humiliation or escalation.
For thirteen days in October
1962 the two superpowers hovered on the brink of
nuclear catastrophe, its leaders trying desperately
to avoid the one bad decision, the one communication
faux pas that could have precipitated World War
Three. Kennedy and Khrushchev opened a hotline
between the White House and Kremlin to keep the
channels of communication open.
On 28 October the two nations
agreed that all Soviet missiles would be removed
from Cuba, in exchange for a US guarantee not to
invade Cuba and a secret promise to dismantle the US
missile base in Turkey. War had been averted, and
Kennedy’s decision vindicated.
The Aftermath of Cuba As he had learned from the Bay
of Pigs, Kennedy reflected deeply on the
implications of the second Cuban incident. It
reaffirmed his believe that standing firm on
principle was necessary (witness his strong stand in
Berlin in 1963), but that lasting peace required
re-examining his own values and perceptions, and
reaching out to others in a spirit of cooperation.
Consequently, he invited the Soviets to collaborate
on space exploration projects and set the example in
limiting nuclear tests.
In one of his most famous and
eloquent speeches at American University on 10 June
1963 he appealed to the public, as much as to
corporate and world leaders to focus on resolving
conflict and differences through peaceful means
built on a foundation of dialogue and example. “The
quality and spirit of our own society must justify
and support our efforts abroad. We must show it in
the dedication of our own lives,” he exhorted.
“So let us persevere. Peace
need not be impracticable, and war need not be
inevitable. By defining our goal more clearly, by
making it seem more manageable and less remote, we
can help all peoples to see it, to draw hope from
it, and to move irresistibly toward it. … So, let us
not be blind to our differences--but let us also
direct attention to our common interests and to the
means by which those differences can be resolved.
And if we cannot end now our differences, at least
we can help make the world safe for diversity. For,
in the final analysis, our most basic common link is
that we all inhabit this small planet. We all
breathe the same air. We all cherish our children's
future. And we are all mortal.”
One cannot help but ask what
more Kennedy would have done for America and the
world had his life not been cut short. But his
legacy endures, and encourages business and project
leaders to continually ask questions, to learn from
mistakes, and to focus attention on an optimistic
future in which differences are resolved for the
common good.
Ask not what you can get, but
what you can give. |
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