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

Page 60

by John W. Dean


  “I know you don’t think it’s important,” Haldeman told Nixon, “but the White House counsel is important. [The job] is important if it goes wrong, and it’s totally insignificant as long as it goes right.” Nixon did not disagree but noted, “Now let’s face it, face up to this thing: Dean handled a lot of stuff well.” Haldeman agreed, and as Nixon felt the discussion of a new counsel was premature, the conversation moved forward.

  Ehrlichman reported that their new lawyer, Wilson, was going to talk to the U.S. attorneys and warn them that if Haldeman and Ehrlichman were placed on some list of conspirators, it could ruin innocent men. Ehrlichman said Wilson “has quite a close relationship with Titus,” the U.S. attorney, and he was going to tell them not to make some sort of side deal with me, granting me informal immunity, in which they would simply tell me I was a witness and not a defendant. As the conversation proceeded, a minor problem was identified: I was, in fact, only a middle-level staffer at the Nixon White House, which was why the president had worded his no-immunity statement so broadly. Yet, as Nixon observed, that statement was now a problem for the prosecutors, because “Dean is the only one who can sink Haldeman and Ehrlichman.” Ehrlichman said I could not be viewed as some “little clerk,” notwithstanding the fact that he had generally viewed me that way since my arrival at the White House. But for purposes of preventing me from obtaining immunity, Ehrlichman would elevate me even in his perception of my place on the staff.

  “I have no intention to see Dean again,” Nixon told them, “unless it’s useful. I don’t think you can control him; he’s fanatic. If you feel it would be useful, let me know.” Ehrlichman said, “I will tell you, what is lurking in the back of my mind is that, based on the chain of circumstances, Dean may be provoked to make a public statement which is slanderous and hostile.” Ehrlichman was hoping I might do so, as they could then file libel lawsuits if they were defamed. Nixon agreed, and they speculated about who else they might sue, but reached no conclusions. They agreed that in the coming days they had to “maintain the façade of normal operations.” If they were not tied up with their attorneys, Ehrlichman suggested they go to Florida with the president for the weekend. Ehrlichman also asked, if they were forced to take a leave, if the president might consider their “use of Camp David occasionally.” Nixon, dodging the request, said he wanted them to go forward so they could “beat the rap, at all costs, beat the God damn rap.”

  Curious if Wilson had explained the legal issues in question to them, Nixon asked, “What the hell is the law on obstruction of justice?” Haldeman said they had not had a full discussion on that yet, and Ehrlichman added that they would be briefed on it that evening. Haldeman reported that Wilson had characterized obstruction of justice as “damn tough, loose.” He also had told them that Glanzer was “the major, leading authority on it. He uses it like a bludgeon.” Haldeman further cited Wilson as saying that the obstruction law was” broad, and cases go all different ways.”

  Though he now had legal representation, however, Ehrlichman’s mood was sinking. Even if they “beat the rap,” he felt they were still “damaged goods.” They were not to Nixon, he told them, and he said he wanted them to work for his postpresidential foundation. Ehrlichman, looking at the larger picture, noted, “But I think we’ve just about had it. I think the odds are against it.” Nixon interrupted this discussion to ask if they had spoken with Kalmbach regarding the money. They had not, and Ehrlichman, being less than candid, said I had only told Kalmbach that the fund-raising was an urgent situation.67 Which brought the president back to the plight of his two top aides. He again offered them money for their legal fees, but Ehrlichman said, “Let’s wait and see if it’s necessary.” Nixon assured them the money would not be his—Bebe had some funds that could be used. Ehrlichman said, “I’ll tell you, my feeling on this is that, I may be an optimist, I’m just not willing to believe that the process will result in an indictment. I just can’t accept that.” Haldeman, too, had not given up hope, adding, “You’ve got to have faith that the system works.” The president, assessing the situation more realistically, said they should not forget that there would be an effort to get them and to get Nixon, and that “Glanzer is a great obstruction of justice man.” Ehrlichman observed that “Glanzer can’t do this all by himself,” counting on Wilson’s putting up a block with Glanzer’s boss, Harold Titus. Haldeman said they must “keep some face.” Ehrlichman reported that he was handing over many of his daily duties to his top assistant, Ken Cole, informing him that he was going to have to carry a heavier load. Ehrlichman mentioned that he had passed Kissinger in the hallway, “And I could have sworn I had a spot of leprosy,” adding that Henry really did not know how to handle what was happening.

  Nixon asked, “Where do we put Garment at this point?” “I think he’s eligible for a trip,” offered Ehrlichman, to mildly disparage the president’s former law partner who was considered the White House liberal, and added, “I think maybe you ought to send him to Ceylon or someplace.” They agreed that a decision about Garment, who was threatening to resign, could be deferred. The president was more concerned about finding a new FBI director and a new attorney general. And he somewhat surprised them both when he asked, “Bob and John, if you have to be replaced, who the hell would we put in your spot?” No viable suggestions emerged, and when the president again offered them money for legal fees, Ehrlichman said, “If we get into a trial phase, I would go out of town and hire the best God damn trial lawyer in the world, bring him in here, and load him up, and really put on a show. So that’ll cost plenty, you know.” Haldeman asked who he had in mind. “Somebody like Bill Frates down in Miami, or somebody of that kind. He’s very skillful and very tough.”

  Before Nixon returned to the residence to change for a state dinner, he made a quick call to Ziegler. “Did you get Dean?” he asked.68 Ziegler reported, “Yes, I did, and outlined the position to him, and he sounded fine, and a copy of the statement [is] being sent over to him.” He then described to the president the types of questions he had gotten at his briefing, which he said he had dodged by refusing to talk about any individual. “Very good, Ron,” the president said.

  Following the dinner the president returned to the Lincoln Sitting Room and called Henry Kissinger.69 Nixon confided that he could not look at his problem in “the detached way [he] really should,” because those involved in Watergate were “good men.” So he was rejecting Garment’s approach of firing Haldeman, Ehrlichman and Dean “without waiting until” they got to the real culprit, John Mitchell. “I’m not going to fire a guy on the basis of a charge made by Dean, who basically is trying to save his ass and get immunity, you see. That’s why I had that phrase in there that no immunity should be granted to a top person. He has no right to do that,” Nixon declared, and Kissinger agreed.

  Nixon was essentially testing his new and developing defense on Kissinger, and explained, “Some of these people will even piss on the president if they think it will help them. It’s pretty bad. I’m the only one, frankly, of the whole bunch who really didn’t know a God damn thing about it until March, when finally Dean came in and said, well, here’s where it is, which he should have done months ago.” “Well,” Kissinger observed, “they were in over their heads, and they tried to, instead of stepping back and assessing where they were, got in deeper and deeper.” “Maybe we’ll even consider the possibility of, frankly, just throwing myself on the sword, and letting Agnew take it,” the president rather dramatically declared, again testing Kissinger. Kissinger’s reaction was instant, and he sounded horrified: “That is out of the question, with all due respect, Mr. President. That cannot be considered.” But he was not finished: “His personality, what it would do to the presidency. And the historical injustice of it. Why should you do it, and what good would it do? Whom would it help? It wouldn’t help the country. It wouldn’t help any individuals involved. With all respect, I don’t think the president has the right to sacrifice himself for an individual. And it
would, of course, be personally unjust.” With a long sigh, Nixon told Kissinger that the dinner that evening “was a hard one for me to get through,” and then he added,” I don’t think the audience sensed it.” “No one sensed it,” Kissinger assured him. “No one. In fact, I didn’t know you had made a statement [until] one of my dinner partners said, ‘Isn’t it astonishing how the president is behaving, given what he’s done today?’ ‘Yes,’ I said, ‘he had a tough meeting in the morning, but he does that all the time.’ She said, ‘No, the statement.’ So it was an astonishing performance.”

  The president said he wanted Kissinger to talk off-the-record to people about how difficult all this was for him, if it might help. Kissinger assured the president he would do so, and that it would help, adding, “It’s impermissible to touch the president. That cannot be permitted, at whatever price. And I’m sure that Bob wouldn’t want that.” The president confided, “Bob and John are willing to throw themselves on the sword over there. When they do, they’re going to fight like hell.” “But one of them ought to stay,” Kissinger insisted, candidly, “I would hope so,” Nixon said, “but I’m afraid it can’t be Haldeman. I’m afraid the only one that possibly could be saved would be Ehrlichman, and that’s tough, too.”

  Kissinger was not in the dark about what was at stake and told him, “Well, Garment wants you to fire Haldeman [and] Dean.” And Ehrlichman as well, Nixon added, but Kissinger questioned that, saying, “I don’t know whether he wants you to fire Ehrlichman, too.” The president pointed out that the evidence was changing, and Kissinger offered that they should resign on the grounds that their usefulness had been impaired, and that they had to be “like Caesar’s wife.” The president said he was considering his alternatives and told Kissinger not to get discouraged, and to do his job. “You, two or three of us,” Nixon said, “have to stick around, try to hold the God damn fort.” Seeking to bolster Nixon, Kissinger said, “You have saved this country, Mr. President. The history books will show that, when no one will know what Watergate means.” Nixon was doubtful, however, and Kissinger noted, “It’s a human tragedy for Haldeman and Dean and a few of those fellows.”

  “Dean is the real, the fellow that’s really going to be the loose cannon,” Nixon said, and explained again that I was the reason for the no-immunity directive in his statement: “And that’s going to burn his ass, because then he’ll thrash out about everything you can imagine. Although Ziegler has made an interesting point. He has God damn little credulity; after all, he was making the report. He was the one that said there was no involvement, and that’s what we relied on. And it took him until February, or March, until he finally came in and said, here it is. A little damn late, isn’t it?”

  “I’d just fire him as soon as it comes out and let him scream from the outside,” Kissinger advised. The president was silent for a moment, then said he guessed he would have to do that when the time came, adding, “Well, you know, nobody really will know what they put a president through on a thing like this.” “Well,” Kissinger agreed, “it’s inhuman, Mr. President. These bastards know damn well that you couldn’t have known about it, if one considers all the things you had to go through. You couldn’t be a police judge, too. You’re running the government, you’re doing all the negotiating, you’re carrying a bigger load than any president has.” The president mentioned his trips to Russia and China and ending the war but wondered if he should have spent more time on his campaign, rather than on Vietnam. “If you can’t rely on your own people to tell you the facts, then it’s rather difficult.” Kissinger added, “Exactly. If you had done that, we might still be in the war.” Nixon found Kissinger’s assurances comforting, and told him, “And in the meantime, put your arm around Haldeman and Ehrlichman.”

  “You can count on it, Mr. President. I’ve been standing by Haldeman. I didn’t know Ehrlichman was in trouble, too. Now you can count on the fact that I’ll stand by them. But the major person to stand by now is you,” Kissinger said. The conversation ended with a discussion of the state dinner and how “old Frank Sinatra,” who had entertained that night, had given everyone a lift.

  After saying good night to Kissinger shortly after midnight, Nixon called Haldeman and told him: “I just wanted to say, keep the faith.”70 Haldeman said that he and Ehrlichman had reviewed the worst-case scenario and “what’s in between,” and “the thing now is just play it as it lies, day by day, and see where we come out.” The president asked if Strachan had been to the grand jury, but Haldeman did not think that had happened, and Nixon told him he wanted to meet in the morning to discuss who was vulnerable, for he thought I would probably be given immunity notwithstanding his statement.

  “One thing we’ve got to do, Bob, is get some kind of line with regard to this whole business of helping the defendants. I just feel some way that ought to be able to be done, you know what I mean? I don’t know whether there is any way, though, is there?” Haldeman felt they could only keep stressing the point that the money had been intended for fees and support and that was it. Nixon again reviewed how Hunt had been taken care of by Mitchell, with Haldeman, Ehrlichman and me being told the next day, and asked if there was some way Ehrlichman could be separated out. “You see,” Nixon noted, “the vulnerabilities of a lawyer here is enormous, because it’s a destruction of his career.” Haldeman thought there was a long way to go before Ehrlichman would face that possibility, and Nixon backed off this idea.

  Despite the statement he had issued only a few hour earlier, Nixon was now privately claiming that it was Ehrlichman who had triggered his interest in the Watergate matter. “Ehrlichman’s own investigation was, it’s very important that we get that, you know, that is what really triggered it, rather than what Dean said, see my point?” Haldeman responded with a noncommittal, “Mmm, hmm,” and the president continued. “That makes sense,” Nixon said, suggesting they discuss it, and then got to his point: “We’ve really got to think how to save what there is left of the president, the presidency.” He now thought an Ehrlichman report worked better because “Ehrlichman did call the attorney general and say look, here it is, and after that call, Magruder cracked, so let’s put it all down. Do you think that’s a good idea?” The president asked Haldeman who in addition to Strachan at the White House had any problems; he asked specifically about Larry Higby, who would slip through the cracks notwithstanding his intimate connections with all things Haldeman: “It doesn’t touch our trust in Higby, does it? Or?” Haldeman answered Nixon’s hanging question softly, “Yeah,” indicating that Higby was indeed touched, though Haldeman added that he had not been subpoenaed.

  Nixon remained most concerned about me. If I was indicted, the president was convinced, “then, of course, he’ll says he’s going to destroy the president, too. Isn’t that what he’s threatened? He’s been threatening all the time, isn’t he, even you? Isn’t he?” Checking the president’s anxiety, Haldeman assured him, “No, no, he never did.” Nixon began trying to provoke Haldeman into saying that he and Ehrlichman had been pushing to let it all hang out, but I had somehow blocked them. When Haldeman did not react as hoped, Nixon suggested the tragedy was Mitchell, and his refusal to step up. After a pause the president offered an example—Mitchell’s request to activate Kalmbach. “Who said that, Mitchell said it, didn’t he?” Nixon asked twice, and Haldeman answered twice that Mitchell had requested that I go to Ehrlichman, but he did not recall that I had come to him as well; rather, I had only “alluded” to his agreement. “Well, make him prove it, okay John, Bob, Bob, bye.”

  April 18, 1973, the White House

  Before going to the bipartisan leadership meeting in the Cabinet Room to discuss energy issues, the president spoke to Ziegler in the Oval Office.71 Ziegler had drafted an explanation of why Nixon had taken action based on new Watergate information, which was presented as the president’s response to newspaper reports, grand jury information and the Gray hearings. Nixon listened as Ziegler read the document, and while the president ad
ded a few thoughts, he was not seriously considering Ziegler’s suggestions. At 8:11 A.M. Haldeman arrived in the Oval Office for a brief chat.72

  Nixon had been thinking about his secret recording system. “I would like you to take all these tapes, if you wouldn’t mind,” Nixon began. “In other words, there is some material in there that’s probably worth keeping, [but] most of [them are] worth destroying. Would you do that?” “Sure,” Haldeman said, and the president added that he thought some of the material might go to the future Nixon library.

  Haldeman proceeded to tell the president that he had been thinking the night before about the Hunt threat on March 21, a date Haldeman said he did not recall but had looked up. He now felt that the Hunt money matter actually had nothing to do with Watergate but rather was a national security matter. Nixon recognized that Haldeman was reaching beyond reality, so he did not pursue the topic. Rather they speculated again what I would do with, or without, immunity. Ziegler, who was the only link to me at the time and was stepping in and out of this meeting, reported on our conversation of the preceding evening: “When Dean called me last night, he said, ‘You know what the twenty-first was, don’t you?’ And I said, ‘No, as a matter of fact, I don’t.’ He said, ‘That’s when I went in and gave the president my “cancer on the presidency” speech, which brought the president out of his chair.’ And—” The president affirmed this, saying, “That’s right, he did.” When Ziegler brought up the matter of my failure to provide the president with a written Dean report, Nixon said, “In fairness, it wasn’t that he couldn’t put it on paper.” The president explained, “We were trying to make a public statement,” and my report “would have criminally implicated others.” He felt I was turning on other people now to save myself, and he wanted Ziegler to talk to me. Ziegler said he would.

 

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