"LET the word go forth," John Kennedy proclaimed on January 21, 1961, "that the torch has been passed to a new generation of Americans – born in this century, tempered by war, disciplined by a hard and bitter peace, proud of our ancient heritage." To the crowds huddling in the bitter cold at the new president's inauguration, it seemed a hero had arrived.
Early on Wednesday morning, a new hero took the stage. Barack Obama began his victory speech with a statement that was both introduction and conclusion: "If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are pos
sible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer." All across America, the young are asking the old: "Is this what Kennedy was like?"
The similarities are striking. Like JFK, Obama is young, handsome, Harvard-educated and intelligent. He has a pretty wife, two kids and an incandescent smile. Both had to overcome bigotry: Kennedy was told that America would never elect a Catholic; Obama that it would never elect a black.
With single-minded purpose, Kennedy set out to satisfy a hunger for something new. "It is time... for a new generation of leadership – new men to cope with new problems and new opportunities," he argued during the campaign.
For "new", substitute "change". "It's been a long time coming," Obama proclaimed, "but tonight, because of what we did on this day, in this election, at this defining moment, change has come to America."
If America had a dollar for every time the word "change" was uttered during the campaign, there would be no economic crisis. The sceptic in me has to wonder what this change is going to mean. The dreamer says "shut up".
Kennedy had that same effect. He could replace doubts with dreams simply by uttering a few mellifluous phrases. That quality is hugely important in politics, and especially during times of woe. Obama's ability to make Americans believe in themselves may prove the best antidote to recession.
Kennedy's message had a profound effect upon young people who wanted desperately to build a world different from that of their parents. When he uttered an off the cuff remark about establishing a Peace Corps, within two days 700 students had volunteered for an agency which did not yet exist.
Obama has the same effect. On Wednesday morning, image after image showed young people taking to the streets as if to join a crusade.
But Obama's similarities to Kennedy occasionally worry me. Kennedy made a career of fooling the American people.
Behind the image of youthful vigour walked a man of poor health. The self-proclaimed family man was a bounder who cheated on his wife. The dreams he inspired were transcendent, but the realities he delivered were often ignoble. Romantic illusions of Camelot are soured by memories of the Bay of Pigs and Vietnam.
In other words, our future teeters precariously on the hope that Obama will prove a better man than Kennedy.
Gerard DeGroot is professor of modern history at the University of St Andrews