Bred to Look the Other Way?

As is well known by now, becoming a Kennedy wife can be fraught with certain challenges, going all the way back to Rose Fitzgerald’s flawed marriage to the chronically unfaithful Joseph P. Kennedy and then her daughters-in-law Jackie’s and Joan’s troubled marriages to Jack and Teddy. Where Bobby was concerned, maybe he cheated on Ethel, but we don’t know for sure and, based on what we do know of his character, it’s doubtful.

In terms of the third generation, the experience of each woman who married into the family has been, of course, particular to her upbringing and personality, as well as specific to the character of the man she took as a husband. Just surveying the RFK branch of the family, many of the women who took Ethel’s sons as husbands have actually had good marriages, especially worth noting considering the misogynistic leanings of Kennedy men. Sheila Sinclair-Berner has been married to Christopher since 1987; Victoria Anne Strauss to Max since 1991; Anne Elizabeth “Beth” Kelly to Joe since 1993; and Molly Stark to Douglas since 1998. It’s worth remembering that Sheila Rauch, Joe’s first wife, was no milquetoast; she found a way to fight back after Joe insisted on an annulment in the 1990s by writing her devastating memoir. Victoria Gifford made an empowered decision to divorce Michael after the Marisa Verrochi scandal. Unfortunately, Mary Richardson, Bobby’s second wife, would find herself in a torturous marriage to a man who seemed completely incapable of fidelity.

While women who married into the family no doubt have interesting stories should they ever decide to tell them, so do those who were actually born Kennedy. After all, these young women were raised in a culture that generally accepted infidelity. Sometimes they were fortunate and never had to deal with it: Kathleen Kennedy Townsend, for instance, has been happily married (as of this writing) for forty-five years (since 1973) to a husband who, from all accounts, has always been good to her. The same holds true for her cousin Caroline Kennedy, married for thirty-two years (since 1986). Maria Shriver, though, wasn’t as fortunate.

Despite sweeping changes over the years relating to feminism and women’s rights, Maria would somehow find herself stuck in the same kind of troubled marriage as some of her female relatives of the fifties and sixties. Her union with Arnold Schwarzenegger seemed to suggest that no matter the country’s climate, men of a certain character and sense of entitlement will still misbehave. It has to do with wealth and prestige and a sense of power. Maybe it has to do with politics, too. In Maria’s case, add show business to the mix and the result was truly toxic.

Shortly before the 2003 gubernatorial election, Arnold’s political career was rocked by multiple allegations of sexual misconduct. The Los Angeles Times published a series of scathing articles in which sixteen women accused him of sexual harassment and humiliation over a thirty-year period. Arnold admitted to having “behaved badly” but insisted that most of the allegations were false. He waffled, though. “Some of it probably happened,” he said, “and some of it probably didn’t. But I apologize in any case to anyone I offended.” Considering all the women who’d been profiled, as well as later testimony from many people in the entertainment industry who claimed to have caught Arnold in compromising positions, it’s difficult to escape the conclusion that he was probably unfaithful to his wife. There’s simply too much evidence to believe otherwise.

History shows that it didn’t matter to voters that Arnold might have been a sexual predator, no matter how many egregious complaints were lodged against him. Again, the Schwarzenegger trajectory reminds one of Donald Trump’s thirteen years later. During Trump’s presidential run and even after he was in office, complaints of sexual harassment were made against him with, again, as many as sixteen women coming forward. However, his base decided that even if these allegations were true, they had no bearing on whether he would be a successful leader.

A big difference between Schwarzenegger and Trump would be the degree of their wives’ support. Of course, Melania Trump backed her husband. However, to say she was vociferous about it would be untrue, especially after she kept quiet when Trump was accused of having sex with both an adult film star and a Playboy playmate and then paying them both off to keep quiet. Unlike Melania, Maria didn’t just issue a few supportive comments about her husband and then smile mysteriously, causing people to wonder what was truly in her heart. To the contrary, she supported Arnold with everything she had, even putting her personal integrity and professional credibility on the line.

Of the reams of newspaper articles about the subject, Myriam Marquez of the Orlando Sentinel put it best: “There was Maria, in stop after stop, never wavering, never once showing any sign that there could be an ounce of doubt in her mind about her husband’s ethical core. She asked voters: Whom are you going to trust? Anonymous women who are saying bad things or even those who give their names and talk about Arnold’s raunchy side, or this woman, the gal who has pledged to love him for better or worse? Trust me, she told voters. I’m his wife, the mother of his four children, the woman who knows him best.”

Ultimately, of course, Arnold was elected, and, as we have seen, in the Shrivers’ world winning was everything, so in that respect, maybe everyone got what he or she wanted out of the deal. Still, outside of the political arena, in her private moments when she wasn’t trying to sway voters, one has to wonder how Maria was able to square it all.

Maria’s mother, Eunice, never had to contend with infidelity from the deeply religious Sarge. With his strong moral compass, he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he ever strayed. He and Eunice were happily married for fifty-six years.

Given her family history, one can understand that, at least at the start, Maria didn’t have the coping skills to grapple with her marriage to the cheating Arnold. According to her intimates, she had to figure it out on her own without Eunice’s help. As one person close to her put it, “she wouldn’t have discussed this kind of thing with her mother since she knew it would have broken Eunice’s heart. Eunice adored Arnold. In the end, Maria was pretty much on her own when it came to dealing with him.”

Also, it’s worth remembering that Maria was a woman who’d become a terrific success in the male-dominated television industry. She had to be tough. She could probably write a book about the many indignities she’d suffered along the way in television, or, at the very least, the demonstrations of disrespect from male colleagues in positions of power. In other words, she wasn’t a delicate, overly sensitive, or emotional person. She brought that toughness into her marriage. Though it obviously wouldn’t inure her from heartbreak, it would definitely imbue her with the resolve she needed to focus on the positive and have a good, quality life despite any marital adversities. She once told a friend, “I am well aware of Arnold’s limitations.” She’d created a happy world for herself as California’s First Lady, was respected and revered by many people. She also had her children.

At one point, Maria appeared on her close friend Oprah Winfrey’s show to deny that she, like some of her Kennedy predecessors, “always look the other way.” She said, “Well, you know, that ticks me off. I am my own woman. I have not been, quote, ‘bred’ to look the other way. I look at that man [Schwarzenegger] back there in the green room straight on, eyes wide open, and I look at him with an open heart.” Reading between the lines, though, Maria suggested she knew the character of the man she’d married and had made a conscious decision to accept him and his flaws. In other words, she looked the other way—just like Rose … just like Jackie … just like Joan … and just like so many others.

Where Arnold was concerned, he had his own way of viewing things. One person who worked with him closely in government recalled a conversation the two had about his behavior. “It was during the period when the Los Angeles Times was doing its greatest damage,” he recalled. “I sat down with Arnold and had a frank conversation with him about the women who had come forward.”

The associate asked Arnold if he was worried about how the news might affect Maria. No, Arnold said. He said that Maria knew what she had signed up for when she married him. He’d never been a saint, he admitted, but he treated his wife and children well and that would have to be enough for them. In his view, they were all happy, so what was the problem? Was he afraid Maria might one day also stray? Arnold made a face and chuckled as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. If she was unhappy, she would tell him so and, because he loves her, he would probably do something about it. “Like?” the associate asked. Arnold shrugged. Maybe he would divorce her, he theorized, if she said it would make her happy. However, he hastened to add, he didn’t think that this was what she wanted.

“What does she want?” the associate asked.

“To be married to me, obviously, and to give our children a nice life,” Arnold answered, getting testy.

“And what do you want, Arnold?”

“For this conversation to end.”