The Nixon Defense: What He Knew and When He Knew It (69 page)

Haldeman and Ehrlichman arrived from a first meeting with their new attorney, John J. Wilson, whom Rogers had recommended. He was seventy-two, and they found him sharp and knowledgeable. Wilson had advised them, in the event they went to trial, that he had a heart condition. Nixon interrupted their account to insist, “You don’t need a trial lawyer,” and Haldeman agreed that what they needed was brains. Best of all, Ehrlichman said, Wilson knew the entire cast of chargers at the Justice Department, specifically, Henry Petersen and Seymour Glanzer, and he “despises them,” Haldeman added. Nixon said, “I am not going to talk to Petersen anymore. That’s done, except to suck all the information I can get from him, you know what I mean.”

Ehrlichman said Wilson had explained to them what would happen when Magruder pleaded: “In this district it is customary for the judge to
interrogate if he wished” when there is a guilty plea and the government files “a statement of the case, in the nature of an information.” They had discussed with Wilson at some length what Nixon had falsely told them about Petersen’s intention to proceed against Haldeman and Ehrlichman if they refused to take leaves of absence. Rogers agreed that to do as Nixon claimed Petersen was planning was “a perversion of the system, for it allowed prosecutors to ruin anyone without their day in court.”

Ehrlichman revealed that they had also discussed with Wilson another way to block my testimony—namely, that he and Haldeman were my two conduits to the president, who was my client, and under the attorney-client privilege I could not discuss these matters. Ehrlichman felt their relationship to me as such conduits entitled them to the same privilege. Accordingly he suggested, “What I said to Dean and what Dean said to me in private conversation with no third party present could be a [matter] of privilege.” He gave an example: “Dean’s conversation where he says he came in and told me that Liddy had confessed.” “Well,” he noted, “the only reason to tell me was not for me as me, but because I was one of the two conduits that he had to his boss. The organizational setup was that way.” Ehrlichman asserted that if this strategy was correct, and the president did not waive his privilege, it would silence me. “I’ll take a look,” the president said, and asked Rogers what he thought. But Rogers offered no opinion, or was being polite, because the proposal was so fundamentally farfetched.
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When Bill Rogers departed the conversation became a bit less restrained. Nixon was pleased that his aides had procured an attorney, because they were all in a fight. Haldeman reported that Wilson said, “Glanzer is a bad operator. He knows him well. He doesn’t know Silbert.” They discussed the latest media coverage. Nixon thought I was leaking, while Haldeman sensed that
The Washington Post
was keeping a lower profile, playing for the longer game. “As a matter of fact,” Ehrlichman added, “you might have to turn on the [television] set some day and watch your White House counsel crap for the glorious television [audience].” Ehrlichman urged the president to “immediately approve a new White House counsel,” and he had a candidate in mind: Jim Thompson, the former U.S. attorney who tried Illinois governor Otto Kerner. Thompson had visited the White House, and Ehrlichman noted, “He’s tough, bright, dedicated to public service, attractive [and] clean.” Nixon wondered if he would be loyal, and Ehrlichman said he thought he would.

“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.
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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.
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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.
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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?”