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

by John W. Dean

  Ehrlichman explained that Krogh wanted permission when filing his affidavit to take full responsibility for the Ellsberg break-in operation. He noted that Krogh was having trouble recalling what, in fact, he had authorized Hunt and Liddy to do, but it certainly was not a break-in: Liddy and Hunt had exceeded their authority. From Ehrlichman’s description of the situation, he was clearly not helping Krogh recall the fact that he himself had also authorized this operation, nor was Ehrlichman revealing his role to Nixon. (Ehrlichman had only days earlier extracted his written authorization for the “covert” action from the files, telling David Young the documents were too sensitive in showing “forethought.”18) Nixon authorized Krogh’s affidavit, and they discussed whether this break-in had been the basis of Howard Hunt’s blackmail threat that I had raised on March 21. Ehrlichman was certain it had been, because I had suggested that was the case at the time. Krogh had also inquired if he should resign from his post as undersecretary of transportation, though Ehrlichman said both Krogh and David Young felt they had done nothing improper; rather, “their agents exceeded their authority.” Without hesitation Nixon said Krogh should make his affidavit and then resign. Young had already left government. (Ehrlichman and the president were unaware that Hunt had appeared before the Watergate grand jury earlier in the day, where he testified that Krogh and Young had authorized the Ellsberg break-in, and the CIA had provided him and Liddy with equipment for the undertaking.)19

  Less than two hours later Ehrlichman was back with the president for an urgent follow-up: The New York Times had the Krogh story, and it would break the following day.20 While they had no evidence that I had leaked this story, they were both convinced this was my work, based on a Times story that had run that morning.21 “Dean’s targets at the moment are you and Haldeman,” Nixon said, and asked, “What does that do for him?” Ehrlichman thought I was negotiating with the Senate Watergate committee for immunity. (In fact, that deal had been made earlier, but it was not yet publicly known.) Nixon wondered if the Senate could give me immunity that would affect the prosecution of the case. “Yep,” Ehrlichman confirmed. Although the president was not happy to learn this, Ehrlichman felt certain that no one would believe me. It was also during this conversation that the first signs of Ehrlichman’s defense for authorizing the so-called covert effort to obtain Ellsberg’s psychiatric records began to surface, in a passing remark he made to Nixon. When asked if Krogh had authorized a break-in, Ehrlichman said that Krogh would say, “They [referring to Hunt and Liddy] compromised a covert investigation,” explaining that “they [referring to Krogh and Young but excluding himself] did not authorize a burglary. There is a big difference.”*

  Disclosure of the Ellsberg break-in, along with Judge Byrne’s demand for full information, provoked new Justice Department and FBI investigations, not to mention growing press coverage. Ehrlichman requested the president do with Elliot Richardson and the Ellsberg matter what he had done with Henry Petersen: obtain inside information about what was happening, “a progress report” that would “smoke out” Richardson as it had Petersen. To Ehrlichman’s surprise Nixon answered, “I don’t believe I really want to.” Ehrlichman soon pressed an even more important entreaty: “Mr. President, I have one request: If anything ever happens to that boy—Krogh—and he ends up in the pokey, I don’t care what happens to me or Bob or anybody else, but I wish we should get him out, because he doesn’t deserve this.” Nixon did not reply.

  Late that afternoon Nixon had an off-the-record Oval Office meeting with Haldeman.22 It was a rambling, friendly chat, with Nixon personally extending an invitation to use Camp David, which Haldeman declined. Haldeman was not troubled by the FBI’s coming in to protect his papers but was instead far more concerned about someone such as Len Garment taking it upon himself to go through them as they contained all his notes of his meetings with Nixon and his dictations based on those notes for his diary. Nixon understood and wanted no one in those documents. Haldeman said former Nixon White House aide, cabinet officer, and longtime California friend of the president’s Bob Finch had called him with a recommendation he wished he had thought of: Al Haig for chief of staff. Nixon thought Haig, who had recently returned to the army as a general, would not want the job, but Haldeman told Nixon that, as Haig’s commander-in-chief, he should simply assign him to take the post. He reminded Nixon that Eisenhower had had a general running his White House, Andrew Goodpaster, who primarily handled the press. Haldeman observed that “all kinds of people are banging to get into you” and reminded him that he that needed a trustworthy confidant. He also pointed out that Haig not only knew the operation, but that “he’s tough, tough as hell. But he doesn’t look tough. He doesn’t act belligerent,” and added, “He can cope with Henry.” Nixon asked Haldeman if he could talk with Haig, and Haldeman agreed to do so.

  Nixon mentioned telling his daughter Julie the evening before about wishing at times that he could resign. “Do you think I should stick it out?” he asked Haldeman, who said he understood why Nixon might like to “chuck it,” but he did not have that option. That night Nixon telephoned both Haldeman and Ehrlichman to wish them well before their grand jury appearances.23

  May 3, 1973, the White House

  Nixon requested Dick Kleindienst come by the Oval Office for a morning meeting to discuss the Ellsberg case, including a set of 1971 photos of Liddy standing in front of the office of Dr. Fielding, Ellsberg’s psychiatrist.24 Kleindienst did not know what he was talking about, causing Nixon to observe, “I guess I know more about it that you do.” Nixon was trying to figure out how to deal with Richardson’s questions to Krogh about why the president had not informed Judge Byrne earlier. But neither Kleindienst nor Nixon was aware of what Petersen did or did not know about these pictures of Liddy, and whether he understood them when they were provided by the CIA.

  By default Ziegler had begun taking on some of the chief of staff responsibilities, which became evident in his and Nixon’s conversations.25 Ziegler not only had become the sort of sounding board for Nixon that Haldeman and Ehrlichman had once been but was also coordinating staff functions. Ziegler caused Nixon to have second thoughts about Krogh, who had taken a leave of absence, when he asked if Krogh should resign. “I don’t want him to resign,” Nixon said. “He should take a leave until this matter is cleared up. And do it quietly.” Nixon told Ziegler that I was behind the torrent of negative news stories and warned, “These stories are going to continue. Dean will continue to come out and thrash again,” and he said that he expected me to be talking about Hunt’s money demands. Ziegler was not concerned, for he, like Ehrlichman, insisted, “They’re not going to believe him.”

  May 4–9, 1973, Key Biscayne and the White House

  Following the April 30 speech Watergate stories dominated the news, so Watergate dominated most of the president’s conversations. Nixon, however, became something of a spectator as events quickly unfolded. A new Watergate defense team was assembled that started working from his Florida home, with three central players: Al Haig (chief of staff), Fred Buzhardt (special Watergate counsel) and Ron Ziegler (media and sounding board), with others, such as Ray Price, Pat Buchanan and Len Garment joining the group to deal with particular issues. Nixon had asked his former treasury secretary, John Connally, who had switched to the Republican Party on May 2, to serve as a special adviser to the president on domestic and foreign affairs (a part-time job), but Nixon never seriously turned to him for advice on Watergate.

  Although Haig did not wish to return to the White House, nor did he feel himself qualified to be chief of staff given his lack of legal and political acumen, his interim-basis appointment was announced on May 4,26 as Haldeman had suggested.27 Rose Mary Woods talked with Kissinger to make sure he would not cause any problems, since Haig’s appointment made Henry’s former deputy his titular boss.28

  Nixon returned to the White House on May 8, and in his first morning conversation with Ziegler never got beyond Watergate. Not only was there m
uch speculation about my testimony, but Nixon: struggled with his memory of events, such as when he had learned of the Ellsberg break-in; decided Ehrlichman had been wrong in failing not only “to reprimand [Liddy and Hunt] but to fire their asses”; felt Ehrlichman was not telling all about the Ellsberg break-in because “everybody fibs trying to defend themselves”; conceded he needed a criminal lawyer but did not want a trial lawyer; wanted the Justice Department to obtain the papers I had deposited in a safe-deposit box and given Judge Sirica the key; was unhappy and concerned that I had given an interview to Newsweek, in which I said the president had approved of the job I had done when we met on September 15, 1972, after the DNC break-in indictments were handed down, and that I had mentioned the discussion of clemency for Hunt. Nixon asked Ziegler if I was angry, and Ziegler said not as far as he knew.29

  When Haig arrived at the Oval Office on the morning of May 8 for what would prove to be another long Watergate conversation, he found Nixon pleased that a Harris Poll revealed that a 2-to-1 margin of the public felt he should be given the benefit of the doubt on Watergate, and that his resignation was opposed by 77 percent to 13 percent.30 Nixon said I was the only person causing him problems, so they needed to time their attacks on me carefully. “Well, he’s a sniveling coward,” Haig said. “I think we destroy him,” Nixon declared, although he was not sure how. “I don’t think we can, but I think we must destroy him.” “We have to,” Haig agreed flatly. Nixon added that that would have to happen “even if he [Nixon] were guilty as hell”—which, he hastened to add, he was not.

  The conversation soon turned to whether Elliot Richardson, who had publicly announced he would appoint a special Watergate prosecutor, had made a selection yet. Haig reported that he had not. Although Nixon had assured Richardson of his innocence, and that as attorney general he should conduct a vigorous investigation, the president was now having second thoughts. “Well, he knows quietly that he is to appoint no one [special prosecutor] without checking with you,” Haig assured Nixon, who clearly understood that Richardson’s confirmation would be dependent on his having named his special prosecutor. Nixon told Haig he had made the big move on Watergate by forcing Haldeman and Ehrlichman to resign, explaining, “They had no friends, let’s face it.” When Haig agreed, Nixon asked, “You think the stampede has stopped?” “Yes, I do,” Haig replied.

  When Ziegler returned to the Oval Office, Nixon wanted a Dean update.31 Still upset about my Newsweek interview, the president told Ziegler, “He must be destroyed,” but warned that it had to be done cautiously. When speaking with Ziegler, Nixon constantly sought reassurance that the press secretary believed him. Early that afternoon the president likewise took Haig through a forty-five-minute explanation of his innocent behavior during our March 21 conversation, casting me as a man with much to hide.32

  During the afternoon of May 8, Nixon met with Dick Moore in his EOB office and tried to turn Moore’s memory against me, telling Moore he thought they could challenge my account on the basis that I had waited nine months to tell the president about the cover-up.33 Nixon could not resist, however, admitting that “Tom Pappas, bless his dear soul, came in to see me about the ambassador to Greece. He said to me, ‘You know, I’m helping John Mitchell with some things.’ And I said, ‘Well, thank you.’” He added that I had known about Pappas and mentioned him on March 21, which worried Nixon.

  In a late-afternoon Oval Office meeting with Haig, Nixon said they had “to have a strategy” to deal with my appearance before the Senate Watergate committee, when I would be given immunity.34 “He’ll spill his guts on everything, because he’s protected,” Haig agreed. “He can’t incriminate himself.” “And he does it on national live television,” Nixon added, wondering if the office of the president could survive my “popping off before the Senate committee.” Haig was confident it could but warned, “I think it’s going to be tough.” “Having this little son of a bitch going in there and talking about conversations with the president, unbelievable,” Nixon replied, but he claimed that if I told the truth, he was not worried. Haig shared with the president what he had learned about the immunity statute: It was automatic, and the Justice Department could delay the Senate’s granting me immunity for thirty days but not prevent it altogether. This conversation produced a tactic they would try to employ to block the Senate Watergate committee; they would claim that if it went forward it would jeopardize the rights of potential defendants. (This was precisely how we had blocked the Patman committee hearing in the House in October.*)

  During a meeting with Ziegler later that afternoon the president complained that they had no one in the Senate who was going to take me on, and he remarked, “I don’t see why people are playing him up as a great hero.”35 When Haig later returned, Nixon made the same point: “I think, if you really want to destroy this office, have me out there fighting John Dean. Somebody else has got to fight him.”*36 When Nixon began to complain about his legal team, Haig recommended that his former roommate from the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, Fred Buzhardt, be transferred on a temporary basis to the White House from his post as general counsel of the Department of Defense. “Get him over right away,” Nixon said, but he also wanted his attorney friend from his vice presidential days, Chappie Rose, “for every hour we can get him.” Missing Ehrlichman, who he was sure would have a strategy in place, Nixon lamented, “We don’t have a good, sound, mature lawyer around right now on the staff.” J. Fred Buzhardt, Jr.’s appointment as special Watergate counsel was announced on May 10. Fred’s father had been a law partner with Senator Strom Thurmond, and Fred had worked in the Senate for Thurmond for eight years, directly out of law school, so he knew his way around Capitol Hill. But he had no experience whatsoever with federal criminal law.

  Meeting with Ziegler in his EOB office that evening, Nixon again insisted that more action be directed at attacking me.37 Ziegler assured the president that he would “shoot Dean down,” but it would be off-the-record. “You know,” Nixon said, “sometimes it takes a snake to kill a snake, and you might use Jack Anderson on a thing like this, too, some of these things, you know?” Nixon wanted me discredited before I testified before the Senate or the grand jury; otherwise it would be “impossible for these poor bastards [referring to Haldeman and Ehrlichman] to have a fair trial, and also it will attack the presidency in a way that we’ve got to answer.” “We are working out that strategy now, this meeting with Chappie Rose tonight,” Ziegler told him, and he assured the president he had his staff ready to strike me hard at “the right time.”38 Later that evening, when Nixon again telephoned Ziegler, he was still thinking about how he could discredit my testimony and suggested “a sort of white paper,” a preemptive report from the White House, on matters I might discuss—an idea that would gain ground in the coming days.39

  In an early telephone conversation on May 9, Nixon spoke with Haldeman, who was on his way to the grand jury.40 He said that Ehrlichman had been there for five hours the day before and was scheduled to return that morning. Ehrlichman had taken great offense at being questioned by prosecutors who were once under his thumb.* Haldeman reported that he had been through his Watergate notes, and while they would be a problem, he felt they were a problem “we can live with,” if they had to do so. Nixon assured Haldeman they would remain as presidential papers, and he would “stand absolutely firm” on their remaining so sealed.

  When Haig arrived in the Oval Office later that morning, Nixon quickly launched into a rant about why I had not informed Haldeman and Ehrlichman about the problems with paying money to the Watergate defendants (which, of course, I had done).41 Haig was ready with their plan: “Now, what we’ve got going now is a very comprehensive game plan on taking this thing on. We’ve got to start now building a backdrop, but not shoot our big guns yet on Dean.” Nixon still felt that the best plan was to stop the Senate hearings from occurring by having people like Haldeman claim his “rights will be jeopardized if these hearings go forward.” He wanted the p
rosecutors, but not the White House, to join this action. “The main thing we’ve got to do is keep our iron hand on presidential papers [and] national security”–related matters like “the plumbers operation,” Nixon said. As for how to deal with me, they would simply “say Dean’s a liar.” Although I had yet to testify, Haig said I was “lying through [my] teeth, [with] one conflict after another in [my] testimony.” Later that morning Nixon instructed Ziegler on a similar approach concerning me: “We’ve got no choice: Whatever he says, to fight him to the death.”42

  That evening the president and Haig had an almost two-hour-long conversation in the EOB office, during which Haig, the seasoned bureaucrat, boldly began turning Nixon against both Haldeman and Ehrlichman, convincing him that an alliance with them was not in his best interest.43 Haig also handily eased Len Garment out of a position of influence on Watergate as he brought Fred Buzhardt into play. As Haig was moving against Garment, the president also noted, “Bob’s lawyer doesn’t like Len” explaining the problem as “Bob’s lawyer is basically anti-Semitic.” Haig noted that Haldeman was, as well. Once again, throughout this conversation Nixon protested his innocence regarding the March 21 conversation and, tellingly did not blame Haldeman, Ehrlichman or Mitchell for not informing him about the Watergate issues, but only me. Nixon instructed Haig to put Buzhardt to work with the congressional relations staff to block the Senate’s Watergate hearings.

  Partway through this conversation the president asked Buzhardt to join them. Nixon opened by asserting his innocence and noninvolvement: “I just want you to know I didn’t know anything about the God damn Watergate, as far as the so-called”—and rather than use the terms hush money or payoffs he rephrased it—“the whole business of payments and all that crap is concerned.” While he believed Haldeman and Ehrlichman were innocent, he acknowledged that they might have become part of the problem, “in a tangential way, which may get them in this very mushy area of conspiracy to obstruct justice, which, as you know, is very broad and hard to prove.” Speaking in his soft Southern drawl, Buzhardt told the president it would be difficult to involve Haldeman and Ehrlichman in a conspiracy, because “most of the evidence is hearsay, somebody down the line.” (Buzhardt was wrong, for there has long been an exception to the rule against hearsay for statements of coconspirators made during the course and in furtherance of the conspiracy.) Nixon instructed Buzhardt that Haldeman and Ehrlichman were to have access to their files, and then with a chuckle added, “Dean has no access.”