by John W. Dean
Nixon wanted Ziegler to kill the rumored stories, and Ziegler said he had spoken to Clifton Daniel, who had not mentioned them. The president wanted David Gergen to talk to his old friend Bob Woodward and tell him, “They better watch their damned cotton-picking faces. As Henry will tell you, since March 21, when I had that conversation with Dean, I have broken my ass to try to get the facts on this case. Right?” But before Petersen could respond, Nixon reminded them that he had tried to get Liddy to talk, he had tried to get Gray to refresh his recollection, which he had finally done, and he had put Ruckelshaus in the FBI rather than Mark Felt because of what Petersen had told him. Then he paused to asked Petersen if Ruckelshaus was acceptable to him. Petersen said, “I know him and think well of him.”
“So there you are, you’ve got to knock that crap down,” Nixon instructed Ziegler, and then added to Petersen, “If there’s one thing you’ve got to do, you’ve got to maintain the presidency out of this, because damn it, I’ve got things to do for this country yet, and I’m not going to have, now this is personal, I sometimes feel like I’d like to resign. Let Agnew be the president for a while. He’d love it.” Nixon did not get the protest he expected from Petersen, who merely said, “I don’t even know why you want the job.” Nixon then turned to the story about Agnew’s preparing to resign, and Ziegler explained, “Well, that’s the Post and the Times.” Nixon asked what Agnew had to say, and Ziegler indicated that the story was so “ridiculous” that he had not even spoken with Agnew about it: Agnew’s press secretary, J. Marsh Thompson, was going to turn it off.* After again being reassured by Petersen that I had not given information to the prosecutors implicating the president, Ziegler was sent to kill the rumored stories, and Nixon turned his conversation with Petersen back to me.
Nixon again made clear to Petersen that he should understand that, with the April 17 statement regarding immunity, he was not trying “to block Dean giving evidence against Haldeman and Ehrlichman.” This was apparently in response to my warning that he and Ehrlichman were obstructing justice by adding the no-immunity directive to that statement. When Petersen explained that, as acting attorney general in this case, the statute expressly gave him the authority to make the immunity decision, Nixon asked if the prosecutors were inclined to give me immunity. “They’ve vacillated,” Petersen acknowledged. “In the first instance they, I think, felt quite strongly that Dean should be immunized, and I was resisting.” But Petersen explained that they now felt I would “have the most credibility” if I pleaded and testified “as a codefendant against Ehrlichman and Haldeman as opposed to someone who is given immunity and then testified against them.”
Nixon asked what would happen if I began “trying to impeach the president, the word of the president of the United States, and says, ‘Well, I have information to the effect that I once discussed with the president,’ the question of this damn Bittman stuff I spoke with you about last time?” The president supplied his own answer: “Henry, it wouldn’t stand up for five minutes, because nothing was done, and fortunately I had Haldeman at that conversation,” and Nixon said that, in the end, he had told me, “It won’t work.” The president similarly recast the matter of clemency for Hunt, and he also claimed that any discussion by him of using the Cuban committee sounded ridiculous. “I said, there is no damn thing we can do,” Nixon insisted and added, “Mitchell came down the next day, and we talked executive privilege, nothing else. Now that’s the total story, and so I just want you to be sure that if Dean ever raises the thing, you’ve got the whole thing. Now kick him straight.” Petersen agreed and acknowledged, “I mean, that’s what we have to do.”
Petersen then explained in some detail how Bill Bittman’s legal fees were being investigated, because McCord had claimed that he had learned from Dorothy Hunt that money was coming to them through those fees. As this discussion proceeded, Petersen noted, “In other words, what we think happened is that a considerable amount within the law firm was paid out in fees, and the balance went on to Dorothy Hunt for distribution to the Cubans and what have you. The strange thing about this one, Mr. President, is that they could have done it openly. If they had just come out in The Washington Post, they could have said, ‘Well these people were—’” Nixon interrupted to agree and note, “Of course, they helped the Scottsboro people, they helped the Berrigans, and remember the Alger Hiss defense fund?” Petersen said that, because this was done in a clandestine fashion, it had taken on the elements of cover-up and obstruction of justice.152
Throughout this conversation Nixon sought to remind Petersen, “But Dean is not credible. He is not credible. He really can’t go out and say, ‘Look I’ve talked to the president, and he told me this and that in the other thing.’ First, it’s not true.” Petersen explained that I would become credible by pleading, and then the case would be built with other witnesses, like LaRue and Magruder. After discussing Shaffer’s bombast, Nixon said, “Let’s come to the Dean thing again. I can give you some more time if you want to negotiate with him. I mean, when I say, more time—”
“He needs more pressure,” Petersen said, and explained, “It’s become counterproductive. I think he was pressed up against the wall, he’s seen the early morning crisis pass and now he’s had resurgence. You know, he sees Ehrlichman here. He sees Haldeman here. He sees John Dean still here. Nothing’s happened. His confidence is coming back rather than ebbing.” “What is the proper course of action with Dean?” Nixon asked, but then he also turned to the problem of Haldeman and Ehrlichman. He told Petersen that he had two courses of action: They could take leaves of absence until they were cleared, and if they were not cleared, then they would resign; or he could simply ask us all to resign, treating everyone the same. But Nixon worried that resignations could influence the grand jury. Petersen suggested that a leave of absence was the best of both worlds, explaining, “You have given them the benefit of the doubt and you haven’t cut the Gordian knot.” Nixon also mentioned the possibility of letting Haldeman and Ehrlichman go while keeping me, to see what I did, or some other way of not putting us all “in the same bag.” Petersen thought it was a loyalty distinction, but Nixon insisted otherwise. Soon Petersen cut through the chatter with some solid advice: “Mr. President, my wife is not a politically sophisticated woman. She knows I’m upset about this, and you know I’m working hard, and she sees it. But she asked me at breakfast, now I don’t want you to hold this against her [if you ever meet her], because she’s a charming lady. She said, ‘Doesn’t all this upset you?’ And I said, ‘Of course it does.’ She said, ‘You think the president knows?’ And I looked at her and said, ‘If I thought the president knew, I would have to resign.’ But you know, now, there is my own family, Mr. President. Now whatever confidence she has in you, her confidence in me ought to be unquestioned. Well, when that type of question comes through in my house, we’ve got a problem.” Petersen repeated that Nixon should not try to distinguish between Haldeman, Ehrlichman and me, and Nixon responded, “I will do it my way, and it will be done. I’m working on it. I won’t even tell you how.”
Mrs. Petersen’s concerns appear to have registered with the president, who spent the rest of that evening discussing the departure of Haldeman and Ehrlichman from his White House. Nixon was not only avoiding me but increasingly evading one-on-one conversations with Ehrlichman, who was still not happy about the prospect of being forced from the White House, nor was Haldeman making his own departure easy. Haldeman was summoned to the Oval Office as soon as Petersen departed.153 Nixon had a remarkably difficult time telling Haldeman he wanted him, as well as Ehrlichman, to leave the staff. For over an hour they went around and around, with Haldeman making points such as Pat Buchanan’s not understanding why the president hadn’t fired me, and Nixon responding with the claim that he had to think “in terms of the presidency.” What emerged from this conversation was the understanding that the president was going to go up to Camp David over the weekend and work on “trying to get a statement ready”
for Monday night. He would also have Len Garment inform me of his decision regarding my status on Monday, and although Ehrlichman did not want to see Garment become White House counsel, Nixon was inclined to have him take my job.
Nixon suggested he would call on me to submit my leave, but Haldeman erupted. “The president of the United States cannot call upon some little shit that works for him to do something publicly. You can call on a U. S. senator to do something, or Khrushchev to do something, but not an employee.” Nixon explained that he had not intended to do that on television but rather would announce that he had requested and accepted my resignation. “Well, now,” Haldeman said, “maybe that’s the way to separate.” As the conversation continued they discussed timing and Nixon’s wish “to avoid at all costs getting into any position where John Dean tries to barf on me.” He was going to catch me “by surprise” with his speech, and at several points during the conversation told Haldeman, “I’ll handle Dean,” adding along the way, “Look, that little son of a bitch doesn’t have anything. You know what I mean? Really.”
Haldeman told Nixon that if he were me and had something on Nixon, he would use it to get out of prison. “I don’t think he has any interest in bringing down the presidency,” Haldeman said. “I don’t think he would want to do that. Unless he goes berserk. And there’s that. He just totally flips, and I think he’s in, you know, a strange mood.” Nixon acknowledged that “every dog could snap,” which caused Haldeman to wonder if I would become a “John Wilkes Booth or something.” Haldeman quickly added that he did not think I had become that “warped.” Still, Haldeman observed, “he’s a vicious and evil enough guy to be willing to use everything in his command any way he feels is the most effective way of using it.” As this exchange proceeded, Haldeman noted, “He’s playing a very large bluff that, to his credit, it’s working.”
“Well, you know, what he’s, he’s, he’s,” a sputtering Nixon began, “Well, the son of a bitch has acquired confidential information,” which Nixon felt “unconscionable,” and told Haldeman, “The son of a bitch is finished, in my view. I think he’s finished with everybody.” Haldeman responded, “There seems to be a place in the world for people like that. They seem to thrive.” After discussing the enthusiastic crowds in Mississippi that morning, which Haldeman reported had overwhelmingly voted for Nixon, the president said he was ready to start working on his speech. As Haldeman got up to leave, Nixon said, “Today we start fighting.” It was agreed that Haldeman and Ehrlichman would come to Camp David over the weekend, and they would decide how to proceed.
When Haldeman left the Oval Office, Nixon requested Ziegler return to discuss the logistics of a live television speech the following Monday night.154 They talked about Price versus Buchanan, or both, or neither, working on the speech. When Ziegler observed that Price was likely to “wallow in the ashes of self-piety, pity and atonement,” Nixon agreed that people do not want their president to say, “Please forgive me, my people, for what I have done,” adding, “I cannot do it, and I won’t do it.” At 8:22 P.M. this conversation moved to the EOB.155 Ziegler had by now taken over Haldeman’s role as the staff person to whom Nixon could complain about others on the staff, and on that night the president was clearly unhappy with Haldeman and Ehrlichman. “Let me say that this has been a terribly bitter thing for Bob, and even more for John,” Nixon began. “John is a fighter, and thinks he is guiltless, and, frankly, not aware, you know, of how serious this problem is, in my opinion.” Nixon was still accepting Ehrlichman’s dubious claim that he had not authorized the Ellsberg entry. “Why after that was done did Hunt stay around?” he wondered.
“Here are two men [Hunt and Liddy] that you reprimand,” Ziegler replied, who were then sent over to the campaign. Nixon said, “John probably thought, these crazy bastards, get them out of here.”
The president then turned to the matter of removing Haldeman, Ehrlichman and me or, if Haldeman and Ehrlichman had their way, simply removing me. He told Ziegler that Haldeman wanted to hold off and wait it out, but in a frustrated tone asserted, “Well, I can’t wait it out.” He had made this point to Haldeman and asked Ziegler, who understood the problem of forcing me out without Haldeman and Ehrlichman, “Do you want to make Dean madder than he is? He’s a mad dog now, do you agree?” Ziegler did, and Nixon proceeded to vent his frustration at his intractable aides.
As the conversation progressed, with the usual compulsive rehashing of information, the president told Ziegler: “Ehrlichman says, ‘This is going to hurt you if I get out.’ And I gave them the argument that ‘Look, you fellows can’t do your jobs.’ Bob made the point to me today, he said, ‘Well, half of me is worth more than anybody else,’ which is exactly right.” “But that isn’t the point,” Ziegler protested, and Nixon agreed: “Half of him is damaged goods. That’s what he doesn’t realize. He’s damaged goods. Right? We can’t have damaged goods in the White House. There’s no way.” Nixon thought Ehrlichman may have come around with the release of this information about the Ellsberg break-in, remarking, “That shook the shit out of him.” Ziegler reported that Haldeman and Ehrlichman had also been shaken by the press attention they received in Mississippi earlier in the day, when swarms of television camera crews began following them at the Stennis Day events. The unwritten rule was that White House staff was not to attract such media attention.
Nixon assured Ziegler, however, that everything was under control, and he was not panicking. “But we’re doing something cold,” he acknowledged, and if Ehrlichman gave him any problems when he and Haldeman came up to Camp David for a final meeting, he was simply going to tell him it was over. “What the hell else can you do?” Nixon asked. Ziegler agreed he had no other choice, and Nixon confided, “Even though, Ron, I told them a week ago, they knew what the hell I was going to do.” Which brought him back to me, leading him to add, with anger, “You know, you’ve got to fight, though, on Dean. You’ve got a vicious son of a bitch like this, lying and so forth, there comes a time when you may have to smite him right to death.”* Ziegler did not think it would be much of fight, but Nixon was not sure. “Well, I don’t know. He’s got a lot of shit that he’s going to pour out there, but I think your point, as I’ve said, he’s a discredited asshole.”
April 28, 1973, Camp David
After breakfast on the porch of Aspen Lodge, where he read the morning newspapers, the president called Ziegler from his study.156 “That’s quite a collection of headlines this morning, isn’t it?” he observed.157 Ziegler responded, “Oh, boy.” Nixon asked after Ziegler’s morale, and Ziegler assured him it was fine. Nixon said he was delighted with the timing of all this, for if they had gone sooner, “all this shit” would not have been incorporated in his statement. Mistakenly, the president thought he was through the worst of it. Nixon, a skilled poker player, advised, “You’ve got to let others play their hand a little bit, and then you crack. This is a time for strong me, Ron. You don’t get panicky, and so forth. And our day is going to come. Because we’re going to clean a lot of things up.” Ziegler asked when Haldeman and Ehrlichman would arrive at Camp David, but Nixon did not know. “As you know,” he said, “this is going to be a painful session. And God, I don’t—” he started but then went in a different direction, “—Jesus, I mean, with all this, the Congress or, I mean, everybody else saying, Jesus Christ, do something, should they really hang on? What’s your feeling on that?” When Ziegler said he favored their leaving, Nixon said, “We’ve got a lot of big things left to be done,” and they could not be addressed until he dealt with this problem, noting, “We can’t start that, really, Ron, until after the grand jury indicts.” Nixon figured, “Two or three weeks away, I guess, depending on Dean. Dean is the key to the whole thing.” But the mere mention of my name caused him to worry aloud, until he finally signed off, telling Ziegler, “I just wanted to cheer you up a little, you know.” Ziegler thanked him, and Nixon continued on to spend the day making telephone calls.
8:43 A.M. to 9:01
A.M. telephone call with Haldeman: After asking Haldeman about his and Ehrlichman’s arrival time, Nixon observed that the timing for his speech would be good, for more had unfolded for him to deal with in the talk. “Now on Dean,” Nixon said, “I’ve been doing some thinking about it. I’ve got a very tough plan for him. It will be handled properly. It’s going to be very preemptory, you know. I’m not going to see him, that’s my point. He can’t come dicker with me.” Nixon said he was merely going to tell me I was out. Haldeman cautioned Nixon not to “antagonize him any more than you have to.” As the call ended Nixon said, “Remember, the decision is made,” regarding Haldeman’s and Ehrlichman’s taking leaves of absence, “and I am going to write [my speech] on that assumption.” Haldeman said, “Okay.”158
9:02 A.M. telephone call with Rogers: The president asked Rogers if he “might have time to drop up and we could have a little talk.” Nixon said he would arrange a helicopter, but Rogers was fine with driving up. The president said his aides were going to make their move, as “I worked it out with them, finally.” Nixon said he was preparing to deal with me “in a preemptory way, but the same way,” and he was going to do a broadcast Monday night. He told Rogers his speech would cover “everything that happened,” because he wanted the country to know “that I am in charge, and we’re getting to the bottom of it.” He closed by telling Rogers, “Frankly, Bill, I’m glad to get it all out. I want to get it done.”159
