The Transformation of a Kennedy and a Queen

The Brave and the Bold #85
Cover art by Neal Adams

In September 1969, the wealthy Oliver Queen was at a crossroads. He had, in essence, been living two lives. The first was as a rich financier whose construction projects were making a genuine difference in people’s lives. The other was as the superhero Green Arrow, who was making an alternative difference by fighting crime, keeping people safe, and protecting society-at-large from the evils of the world.

As Queen debated whether it was time to discard Green Arrow and permanently embrace his public persona, he was suddenly drawn into an assassination attempt against United States Senator Paul Cathcart. Now in a coma, Cathcart had been the key architect of a new crime bill and quite possibly the deciding vote for its passage in the Senate. It turns out that Cathcart’s enemies were also the enemies of Oliver Queen, and it was only by again assuming the mantle of Green Arrow that those adversaries were inevitably brought to justice.

While the “Senator’s Been Shot!” issue of The Brave and the Bold may have been the start of Oliver Queen’s existential crisis, it was two months later that it fully exploded in the “In Each Man There Is a Demon” narrative of Justice League of America. Since his first appearance in 1941, Green Arrow had been depicted as a bland copycat of Batman, a wealthy millionaire who masqueraded as a non-super superhero with a teenage “ward” as a sidekick and plenty of trick arrows to help with his crusade.

The character’s transformation into something more than mere Batman rip-off began in The Brave and the Bold when artist Neal Adams made Oliver Queen’s physical features more distinct with the addition of a Van Dyke beard. Writer Dennis O’Neil then continued that evolution in Justice League of America, erasing Queen’s wealth while likewise giving him a new liberal mission of helping the downtrodden, turning Green Arrow into a social justice warrior as opposed to run-of-the-mill superhero.

The year before the fictional Paul Cathcart survived an attempt on his life in the DC Universe, real-world Senator Robert F. Kennedy was likewise the victim of an assassination, although with a tragically different outcome. While Green Arrow may have been overshadowed by Batman, the majority of RFK’s life had been in the shadows of his older brother, John F. Kennedy.

After serving as campaign manager for JFK’s presidential run in 1960, Robert Kennedy was named Attorney General, becoming the president’s most trusted advisor on issues ranging from the Cold War to the Civil Rights Movement. RFK’s role was mostly behind the scenes, however, taking actions that were considered beneath a president and thus protecting his brother while also advancing his causes.

When John F. Kennedy was assassinated in 1963, Robert Kennedy’s lifelong role as brother-protector came to an abrupt end. Suddenly faced with having to find a new purpose, Kennedy struggled at first, overcome by the grief and uncertainty that followed the tragic event. But like Green Arrow a half-decade later, Robert Kennedy ultimately embarked on his own mission of helping the downtrodden of society, becoming a social justice advocate as opposed to run-of-the-mill politician.

In the “In Each Man There Is a Demon” narrative of Justice League of America, Oliver Queen must not only come to terms with his new-found poverty but his identity as Green Arrow as well. In the previous issue, the Justice League visited the alternate universe of Earth-Two and their return resulted in “evil” versions of the superheroes appearing on their own Earth-One. While the Atom, Batman, and Black Canary easily dispatch their doppelgängers, Green Arrow struggles with his own.

“You’ve fought law-breakers but not because you’re good,” his alterative self says after being caught robbing a pawn shop in the poor section of Star City. “You maintained the Green Arrow identity because it was fun. You enjoyed the thrill of outsmarting foes, you gloried in the fame it brought you. But underneath you were always Oliver Queen – much more interested in wealth than heroism.”

The words hit Green Arrow hard, and he abruptly walks away from his counterpart. He does not get far, however, before being confronted by the elderly couple who own the pawn shop. The pair explain that the store is their lone source of income and the theft means that they will be unable to pay their mounting bills.

“Guess we ain’t got a right to blame you, though,” the old man says. “We’re poor, plain folk. We don’t count for much. Still, we always figured you were different. We figured you cared.” His wife then adds, “An’ heaven knows people like us need somebody to care.”

As Evan Thomas notes in his 2000 biography Robert Kennedy: His Life, RFK’s own transformation into “somebody who cares” evolved over time as opposed to springing from a lone dramatic event. After his brother’s death, Kennedy went through a spiritual quest that led him to the writings of the Ancient Greeks and testing his own mortality through mountain climbing and white water rafting. Slowly, however, he found himself drawn to the poorer regions of not only the United States but other countries as well, finding an outlet for his own grief by identifying with the downtrodden and – more importantly – embarking on ways to help their plight.

When Robert Kennedy traveled to rural Mississippi in April 1967 as part of the Senate Labor Committee, the living conditions of poor African Americans in the Delta had just as profound an effect on him as the words spoken to Green Arrow in the slums of Star City. Kennedy walked past windowless shacks crawling with vermin that served as homes for entire families, children so hungry that their bodies were covered with sores and bellies inflated from malnutrition, and families with no income to help overcome their plight.

Visibly shaken by the experience, Kennedy could not let go of what he saw, going so far as to tell one of his confidantes, “I have done nothing in my life! Everything I have done is a waste! Everything I have done was worthless!”

Robert Kennedy witnessed similar travesties while traveling across the country and did his best to both give voice to the voiceless that he met and change their lives for the better. When RFK’s own life was cut short in 1968, others picked up his mantel within the real world. In the world of DC Comics, meanwhile, it was Green Arrow who most exemplified Kennedy’s emotional response and continued the fight for social and economic equality – becoming an inspiring symbol of social justice within the fictional just like Robert F. Kennedy had become in the factual.

Anthony Letizia

Related Articles

Latest Articles

Popular Categories