The Nixon Defense: What He Knew and When He Knew It

by John W. Dean

  “Okay. Take the God damn thing,” the president said, as he finished the last of the editing of the statement he was going to personally deliver on camera. Then he asked Haldeman where he was meeting with Helms and Walters. When Haldeman told him it would be in Ehrlichman’s office, the president can be heard tapping his finger on his desk, a typical contemplative gesture, before sharing his thoughts about it. “I’d say, the primary reason, you’ve got to cut it the hell off. I just don’t think, ah, it would be very bad to have this fellow Hunt, you know, he knows too damn much. And he was involved [in the Watergate break-in], we happen to know that. And if it gets out, the whole, this is all involved in the Cuban thing, it’s a fiasco, and it’s going to make the FBI”—he had misspoken and corrected himself—“the CIA look bad, it’s going to make Hunt look bad, and it’s likely to blow the whole Bay of Pigs thing, which we think would be very unfortunate for the CIA, and for the country at this time, and for American foreign policy. And he’s just got to tell them, lay off.”

  “Yeah, that’s the basis I’m going to do it on. Just leave it at that,” Haldeman said.

  “I don’t want them to get any idea that we’re doing it because of our concern about the political, and they know the, I wouldn’t tell them it is not political,” Nixon said. Haldeman agreed, and Nixon continued, “I’d just say, look, it’s because of the Hunt involvement, just say, yeah, Hunt got involved, is involved in this sort of thing.” The president wanted to use Hunt as the excuse because he thought the CIA cover—a seed Colson had planted a few days earlier—was a “good move.” But it is less than clear precisely what he actually had in mind for the CIA to do. Suffice it to say that when this conversation is viewed in the context of what preceded it and what followed, its intent is not as clear as most believed at the time it became public.

  Following the discussion with Helms and Walters, Haldeman met with the president in his EOB office, at 2:20 P.M., to give him a report.16 “Well, it’s no problem,” he announced. “Had the two of them in, and—”

  “You scare Helms to death, did you?” the president interrupted.

  “Well, it’s kind of interesting. Walters just sat there. Made the point, I didn’t mention Hunt at the opening of it, I just said that this thing would lead in the directions that were going to create some very major potential problems, that they were exploring leads that lead back into areas that would be harmful to the CIA, harmful to the government. But Walters didn’t say much.” Haldeman reported that Helms said the CIA had nothing to do with Watergate: “Gray had called [him], told them what he knew, and said, ‘I think we’ve run right into the middle of a CIA covert operation here.’ Helms said, ‘Nothing that we’ve got going at all,’ and that was the end of that conversation.”

  Haldeman then turned to what he and Ehrlichman had told Helms. “We said, well, the problem is that it tracks back to the Bay of Pigs. It tracks back to some other stuff, if their leads run out to people who had no involvement in this except by contacts or connections, but it gets to areas that are going to be raised. The whole problem [is] this fellow Hunt, so at that point Helms kind of got the picture, very clearly. He said, ‘We’ll be very happy to be helpful to, you know, we’ll handle everything you want. I would like to know the reason for being helpful.’” But Haldeman said that he was not sharing that information. “And it may have appeared, when he wasn’t going to get such information explicitly but was gonna get it through generality, he said fine. And Walters was ready to do it, Walters said that.” Haldeman chuckled. “And Walters is going to make a call to Gray, I think. That’s the way we put it, that’s the way it was left.”

  “How would that work, though?” the president asked, very clearly referring to the campaign contribution money. He wanted to know what would happen if the judge pulled in people from the Miami bank and asked them about Barker’s account. Haldeman conceded this could be a problem. “The point that John [Ehrlichman] made is, the Bureau is going all-out on this because they don’t know what they’re uncovering. Because they think they need to pursue it. And they don’t need to, because they’ve already got their case as far as the charges against these men, or something, so they don’t need anything further on that. And, as they pursue it, they’re uncovering stuff that’s none of their business,” he paraphrased, clearly referring to the campaign contributions, though Ehrlichman, it seems, was also thinking of Hunt’s other activities, ones that predated Watergate.

  “One thing Helms did raise,” Haldeman said, “is, he said he asked Gray why he felt they’re going into a CIA thing, and Gray said because of the characters involved and the amount of money involved. He said there’s a lot of dough.”

  Just before six o’clock that evening the president was joined by First Lady Pat Nixon, his daughter and son-in-law Julie and David Eisenhower, Henry Kissinger and White House secretary Terry Decker for the thirty-minute helicopter flight from the South Grounds of the White House to Camp David, Maryland, for the weekend. Haldeman would travel by car to Camp David on Saturday, June 24, 1972. The president planned to use the weekend to start preparing for his nationally televised press conference, to be held in the East Room of the White House, on June 29, 1972, which was the last major commitment on his schedule before his departure for California, where the pace of work was cut back at the Western White House in San Clemente, California.

  June 24 to July 1, 1972

  Martha’s Breakdown, John’s Resignation and Another Scenario

  On June 24 Nixon had breakfast in Aspen Lodge, the presidential residence at Camp David. What caught his attention in the papers that morning was a story in The Washington Post by Helen Thomas, a United Press International (UPI) reporter, about another storm brewing. Martha Mitchell had called Thomas from California to announce that she had given her husband, John, an “ultimatum to get out of politics” or she would leave him. Thomas reported that Martha’s call had ended abruptly when someone apparently tried to take the phone away from her as she protested, “You just get away!” With those words the connection was broken. When Thomas called back she was told that “Mrs. Mitchell is indisposed and cannot talk.” Thomas then called John Mitchell at his Watergate apartment, reported the situation and found him amused. He said Martha never liked his being in politics and confided, “We have a compact. We have agreed we’re going to get the hell out of this gambit. We aren’t going to be in Washington after November 7 [the date of the election]. We’re going to leave lock, stock and barrel. We have an understanding. We’re going to get out of this rat race. We have no interest.” Mitchell informed Thomas that his wife was in California with her sister and a secretary, who had probably sought to stop her from calling. Mitchell added, “She’s great. That little sweetheart. I love her so much. She gets a little upset about politics, but she loves me and I love her and that’s what counts.”1

  Nixon and his top aides had witnessed such behavior from Martha before, during the previous campaign and periodically during Mitchell’s tenure as attorney general. Martha had gone (either voluntarily or involuntarily committed by John) to Craig House, a psychiatric hospital in Beacon, New York, to deal with a drinking problem before coming to Washington, and while living in the capital she had spent time in the VIP wing of Walter Reed Army Medical Center.2 But Nixon understood that with this latest revelation the responsibilities of the president’s reelection campaign were now more than John Mitchell could handle. It was a situation that had to be addressed quickly.

  Haldeman joined the president at 2:29 P.M. in Aspen Lodge, where they talked briefly before continuing out by the swimming pool.3 (The Aspen Lodge recording system had been installed only a month earlier, and it included the president’s study as well as the two telephones in it.) After a brief discussion of Martha Mitchell, Haldeman reported that he had nothing new on Watergate. “We forwarded the message to Vernon Walters, and it was properly received,” Haldeman said. “And no problem with the director.” Somewhat wishfully, Nixon said he felt that some of t
hose involved in the Watergate operation should plead guilty. Haldeman agreed, but wondered, “Who?”

  “Fair question,” the president responded. They discussed the civil lawsuit and how the Democrats hoped to move quickly on depositions and to “slap a subpoena on Mitchell,” as Haldeman described it. The president figured they would go after Colson to try to learn about the White House’s political activities. Haldeman was not concerned but rather found it amusing that “nobody believes the truth.” When a surprised Nixon asked, “You don’t think so?” Haldeman explained, “Oh, I don’t think at this point, they don’t. Even our own people don’t think the Cubans did it. You know, the press and the Democrats are trying to push it onto us.” Haldeman’s bemusement belied the situation, for as he wrote in his diary later that day: “The problems on Watergate continue to multiply as John Dean runs into more and more FBI leads that he has to figure out ways to cope with.”

  June 25, 1973, Sunday, Camp David

  The president slept late and had breakfast at 10:30 A.M. He went to Birch Lodge to work at 11:26 A.M. and requested that Haldeman join him. They talked for an hour and a half, but there was no recording equipment at that location. According to Haldeman’s diary, they discussed the campaign, which, in turn, led to Martha Mitchell, but Haldeman had little more than what had been reported the day before.4

  The president was clearly burned by an op-ed by columnist Joseph Kraft, THE WATERGATE CAPER, in that Sunday’s Washington Post, for he raised it with several of his aides during the day. In his column, Kraft—unaware at the time that the Nixon White House had tried to bug his home and office to uncover his sources within the administration, and that when the first attempt failed the FBI succeeded on a second try, while Kraft was in Paris on assignment, though it ultimately never discovered who was leaking—launched a direct attack on Nixon and Mitchell. While no one believed Nixon and Mitchell were so foolish as to have been directly involved in the Watergate caper, he wrote, “you don’t hear anybody say that President Nixon and John Mitchell couldn’t have been involved because they are too honorable and high-minded, too sensitive to the requirements of decency, fair play and law.” Rather, Kraft argued, “The central fact is that the president and his campaign manager have set a tone that positively encourages dirty work by low-level operators. The president’s record goes back a long way. Every election he has fought since 1946 has featured smear charges, knees in the groin and thumbs in the eye.” Kraft said Nixon had a “special tolerance [for] using unethical means for partisan purposes” and for “[b]ending the law for political advantage.” Whoever had done this deed of “doing the dirty on the Democrats,” Kraft concluded, did so to earn “good marks in high favor” from Nixon and Mitchell.5

  Kraft further charged that Mitchell had, in his very brief public career as attorney general, compiled “deep associations in matters involving chicanery and the cutting of corners,” citing high-profile prosecutions undertaken with an “astonishing insufficiency of evidence”; the use of unconstitutional authority (unanimously condemned by the Supreme Court) to bug domestic subversives without judicial approval; and the appointment, as head of the Justice Department’s Criminal Division, of Will Wilson, a man who was then forced to resign because of “a gamy Texas scandal involving fraud and bribery.”6

  June 26, 1972, Monday, the White House

  Martha Mitchell’s threat to leave her husband was now a front-page story in The Washington Post. Helen Thomas reported that she’d received another “tearful telephone call” from Martha, who had relocated to the Westchester Country Club in Rye, New York. Martha claimed she was “a political prisoner” who couldn’t stand the life she’d been living. “It’s horrible to me. I have been through so much. I don’t like it. Martha isn’t going to stand for it,” she announced. “I love my husband very much. But I’m not going to stand for all those dirty things that go on,” she hinted darkly. She told Thomas that a security man for the reelection committee had pulled her telephone out of the wall when they last spoke from California, and they had left her “black and blue.” She said she had been left behind in California “with absolutely no information. They don’t want me to talk.”7

  Haldeman noted in his diary that Martha’s situation was the president’s principal concern “throughout the day.”8 John Mitchell, Haldeman told the president when they met in the Oval Office between 9:50 A.M. and 10:45 A.M., had attended the senior staff meeting that morning but told Haldeman he was heading up to New York to get Martha to try to work out their problems.9 “Is it the same story?” the president asked.

  When Haldeman recounted the substance of that morning’s coverage, Nixon remarked, “Helen Thomas ought not to be brought into this thing, God damn it, as a matter of decency. The woman’s sick.”

  They spoke sympathetically about the situation and how it hit Mitchell harder every time it occurred. “Maybe he should send her abroad,” Nixon thought, adding softly, “You know, Mexico.” Haldeman noted, “Locking her up is a problem, but I think he can make the point that, and get a little sympathy for it, that she’s had a nervous breakdown, or something, that she’s ill.” Nixon pointed out, “Any sophisticated person reading that story will realize she’s sick.” Haldeman agreed.

  When the discussion turned to Kraft’s column, Nixon observed that it showed the “left-wingers” were having trouble “laying gloves” on him for the Watergate bugging, ITT and such scandals, which he felt were not “hurting the president.” He was annoyed at the lack of media response to his comments distancing the White House from Watergate: “Well, for Christ sakes, I said I completely shared the stated views of Mitchell and Ziegler that this kind of activity has no place in our political process. What in the name of Christ do they want? I think Ziegler ought to crack somebody on that one, I mean, what the hell, what do they want me to do, jump up and down and say this is a horrifying thing? No, I’ll tell you, there’s a plus side of all this. I’m sure you can see what it is. I think they’re reaching. Do you agree, or not?”

  Haldeman agreed, and after making a note, they discussed the absurdity of Larry O’Brien’s calling for the appointment of a special prosecutor, since the matter was being investigated and would be prosecuted. The president again wondered, “Is there any way that Ehrlichman’s crowd can get these people to plead guilty and get the hell out of the case? Or how is it working there? I don’t know what kind of jackassery is going on in the handling of it, you know, because I don’t have much confidence in these lawyers. Who’s watching that end of it? Is that Dean?”

  “Dean and Mitchell,” Haldeman answered. “Mitchell, alright,” the president said, satisfied. Haldeman added, “Very closely watching it. Also Mardian.” He awkwardly added, “Unfortunately, I have to agree with you, though it may not be that simple. It would seem to me if they plead them guilty and get them out. But they don’t have an indictment yet. They keep investigating and uncovering new things. Hopefully we’ve got that turned off,” referring to his conversation with Helms and Walters.

  This conversation ended with the president’s further thoughts on Martha and John Mitchell, given the unfolding problems with the Watergate investigation. “You realize, you’re looking here at Mitchell’s case, we may be looking at something we may not be able to handle,” the president said. “That’s what I’m concerned about, you know. John is a strong man, and I don’t know how in hell he got—” He did not finish the thought, but added, “This woman, if she goes completely off her rocker, I don’t need that business. She was different before. She wasn’t a national celebrity, but now she’s a national celebrity. I mean, what the hell John’s got to do is put her in rehabilitation—” On that unfinished point the conversation ended and Haldeman departed.

  When Haldeman stopped by the Oval Office shortly after noon to discuss other matters, the subject of Mitchell’s resignation as campaign manager arose.10 The president had earlier asked Haldeman to speak to Richard “Dick” Moore, a retired television broadcasting executive
who had worked with Mitchell on his public image as attorney general, developed a friendship with him and then joined the White House staff. The president wanted Moore to probe Mitchell’s thinking and see whether he, too, was thinking about resignation.

  “I talked to Moore,” Haldeman began. “He said John hasn’t said anything to Moore, and Moore felt he shouldn’t push into it because John knows he can call on him if he wants. But he’s going to do a little checking, see what LaRue might know. Apparently Mitchell’s used LaRue some to keep Martha under control.” Fred LaRue and Martha had developed a special bond, both being committed Southerners in the Nixon administration. “Martha’s very strange,” Nixon added, softly. When this subject was broached again later in the day, it concerned Ziegler, who had been advised of the situation but wanted Haldeman’s judgment on whether he should discuss it publicly, since he would have a press conference in a few days. “The question I have is whether I really ought to speak about it,” the president asked.

  “I wouldn’t worry,” Haldeman said, to which Nixon replied, “Well, I naturally worry, not so much because of the effect on me but the effect on him. And on her, too. I don’t want to see them hurt.”

  When Haldeman met with Nixon in his EOB office shortly after noon, the conversation quickly turned to Watergate: “[S]omeone raised the point this morning that, although the potential is nowhere near now, but we could get to it, there were real potential problems with Watergate.”11