After the Fall

by Kasey S. Pipes

  Chapter Nine

  The 1980 Election

  “I have a gut feeling that your victory will be far greater . . . than predicted.”

  The story of the hostages in Iran dominated news coverage in early 1980. And the Carter administration’s seeming inability to do anything about it only added to the growing interest in the upcoming presidential election.

  The 1980 Republican presidential primary had essentially begun in 1976 when Governor Ronald Reagan stole the show at the convention with an impromptu speech after he narrowly lost the nomination to President Ford. “There is no substitute for victory,” Reagan told the delegates in his stirring remarks, which made little mention of President Ford. The next morning, Reagan—who was signing the convention credentials for one of his aides, Martin Anderson—wrote, “We dreamed, and the dream lives on.”

  During the 1976 fall campaign, Reagan made token efforts to help the Republican ticket. But when Ford narrowly lost to Georgia governor Jimmy Carter, the stage was set for Reagan to make one more run in 1980. Not that he would be the only Republican running. The struggles of the Carter administration virtually invited Republican candidates to join the fray. Senator Bob Dole, who had served as Ford’s running mate in 1976, announced his plans to run. So did Nixon’s favorite contender, former Texas governor and former treasury secretary John Connally. Former UN ambassador and RNC chairman George Bush of Texas also announced his candidacy.

  But all eyes were on Reagan. The charismatic former governor of California had always been something of an enigma to Nixon. Though friendly, the two weren’t really friends. At this point in their relationship, Nixon’s remarks about Reagan’s gifts could sound almost like backhanded compliments.

  “Reagan can give a good speech” was a frequent comment he made to friends who sometimes weren’t sure if it was genuine admiration of the former governor’s oratorial skills or a way of saying he didn’t have any substance. And the Watergate Tapes revealed a 1972 conversation Nixon had had with Haldeman in which the president suggested that Reagan “was not pleasant” to be around and, without a trace of irony, called Reagan “strange.” Reagan, for his part, found Nixon odd. The naturally smiling man found it difficult to connect with the introverted Nixon.1

  But by early 1980, Nixon began to warm up to the idea of Reagan. He had spoken to the candidate several times and told friends he was impressed. This was high praise, indicating that Nixon was impressed with Reagan’s questions during their foreign policy talks (which were mainly monologues by Nixon). And if Nixon had worried that Reagan didn’t have the gravitas for the job, the events in Iran were beginning to convince him that Reagan’s decisiveness might be just what was needed in American foreign policy.

  Though Carter’s public approval numbers eventually rose in the immediate aftermath of the hostage crisis, the public soon became concerned that the president had no strategy for ending the crisis. On ABC News, Ted Koppel began a new nightly program to cover the events in Iran called Nightline. And every night the show reminded the American people that the crisis was nowhere near being resolved.

  In early 1980, Carter ordered a commando raid that ended in disaster. When Nixon was briefed about the mission by Defense Department staffers, he asked why more helicopters hadn’t been used. “It’s not like we don’t have ‘em,” he said in a critical comment that was likely reported back to the White House.

  Nixon was more concerned not with the tactical failures of one operation, but with the strategic failures of the entire administration. He was particularly worried that Carter had allowed the entire standoff to be focused on the hostages—thus empowering the Iranians. “I think that one of the major errors that President Carter made at the outset,” the former president told Barbara Walters in an interview on ABC, “was to indicate that his primary, and, in fact, it seemed to me, his only concern at the beginning, was the lives and safety of the hostages. They are important. But the moment you do that, you are inviting blackmail. They know you’ll pay any price in order to save those lives and we could never do that.”2

  While the hostage crisis dragged on, the Republican presidential primary was heating up.

  Though he maintained a public posture of neutrality during the 1980 Republican primary, behind the scenes Nixon kept a close eye on two candidates in particular: John Connally and Ronald Reagan. His obsession with Connally stretched back nearly a decade to when he had recruited Lyndon B. Johnson's close friend from Texas politics to join his administration. “Nixon loved strong men,” Ken Khachigian later remembered. “That’s why he stuck with John Mitchell for so long. And it’s why he liked Connally so much.” Connally was the exact opposite of Nixon: he liked shaking hands with voters, he exuded a natural charm, and he possessed major self-confidence. But the former Texas governor possessed something else—baggage. Scandals had plagued Connally for much of his career. Surprisingly, the one president brought down by a scandal seemed unconcerned about Connally’s shady past. “He had a total blind spot when it came to Connally,” Khachigian said. “I told him Connally couldn’t get elected. But he thought he could.”3

  Still, Nixon kept his options open. And if Connally couldn’t get the nomination, then perhaps Reagan could. “They weren’t close personally at the time,” Khachigian said, “but Nixon certainly appreciated his political ability.” Reagan, like Connally, had many of the political attributes Nixon admired but never possessed: his handsome face looked good on camera, and he maintained a steady air of confidence. Even if Nixon didn’t think Reagan had the sharpest mind, he respected him as a formidable political talent. “He always said, ‘I have a great mind, but Reagan has a great gut,’ ” Ed Cox remembered.4

  Nixon’s ambivalence about the upcoming 1980 election had been visible to his friends and associates well before the election season began. A former aide named Rob Odle had visited Nixon that spring and found him fixated on presidential politics and world affairs. Odle had worked on the Nixon campaign in 1968 and then in the Nixon White House. He still proudly carried a worn-out brief case that he had collected from a trash can at campaign headquarters in 1968. He had noticed the initials “RMN” on it and asked secretary Rose Woods if it had been Nixon’s. “Yes,” she answered, “the boss got a new brief case.” Odle couldn’t believe his luck. He also remained close personal friends with Ed and Tricia Cox. But it had been a while since he saw his old boss.

  “He’s working on a book so don’t stay too long,” Rose Woods advised Odle as he arrived for his meeting. Nixon greeted his guest wearing his typical blue business suit. The president seemed to be in especially good spirits.

  “You are really in a great mood, sir,” Odle said as he sat down across from Nixon’s chair and ottoman. Nixon mentioned the new pope in Rome and said, “I’m really happy about what’s happening there.”

  The two men exchanged favorable comments about Pope John Paul II. But while Odle, a Catholic, expressed his hope for what the pope would do in the church, Nixon seemed much more interested in geopolitics. “John Paul will be tough, cunning, and efficient,” Nixon said, using adjectives that he would normally apply to a head of state he admired. Then he made a prediction: “He will go to Communist countries. I told Pope Paul to do that but he never did.”

  Odle remained unconvinced. But Nixon persisted: “What’s going to happen is he’s going to set off a spark. He said, “This is going to give the Poles back their pride and that’s going to set off a spark.”

  The conversation then shifted to Iran. “He foresaw that Iran would be a major foreign policy issue for years to come,” Odle remembered. “He was very concerned about its strategic location and geopolitical importance.” And he feared that President Carter relied too heavily on the diplomats at Foggy Bottom. “The State Department people,” he said, “they’re all McGovern people.” Nixon told Odle that eventually Iran would be a more important foreign policy challenge than anything else in the Middle East.

  After that, the two men talked
about the upcoming presidential campaign. After Odle said he had attended fundraisers for both Connally and Reagan, Nixon asked for a comparison of the two candidates. “I told him Reagan looked old and tired and Connally had it together. At the Reagan event, the candidate didn’t even speak until after ten o’clock in the evening.” Nixon nearly came out of his seat, saying, “I’ve told Reagan to never go on after eight!” Then he added, “No advance man!” The comment surprised Odle; he hadn’t realized the extent of the conversations going on between Nixon and Reagan.

  Nixon then asked what Odle thought of the only other living former president. “Weak and disappointing,” Odle said of Ford. Then he mentioned that Susan Ford had taped commercials selling Subarus.

  “What’s a Subaru?” Nixon asked.

  “A car.”

  “What?” Nixon incredulously asked. “Can you imagine Tricia selling cars? They would have indicted us for that.”5

  * * *

  After a surprising win in the Iowa Caususes, George Bush rode what he called “the big mo” into New Hampshire, where he hoped his East Coast pedigree would give him an advantage.

  But at a debate at a local high school in Nashau, New Hampshire, during the first week of February, the race took a turn away from Bush. A dispute erupted between the Bush and Reagan camps over the debate rules shortly before the debate was scheduled to begin. Reagan’s team had effectively put up the money for the event, operating on the theory that he needed debates and public appearances to reach as many people as possible. When Reagan began speaking into the microphone to explain to the assembled crowd what the delay was about, the moderator, John Breen, spoke over the public address system.

  “Turn off Mr. Reagan’s microphone,” he instructed the crew working in the sound booth.

  The crowd gasped as Reagan stood, picked up his microphone and raised his voice, saying, “Mr. Green, I am paying for this microphone!”

  It was vintage Reagan—he got the details wrong (the man’s name was “Breen” not “Green”) but he got the big picture right (he was paying for the event and no moderator should boss around a presidential candidate). The clip of the exchange—which included the crowd erupting in approval as Reagan told off the moderator—was played on news broadcasts around the state and across the nation. As America watched a helpless and indecisive president dealing with a hostage crisis in Washington, it saw a strong and decisive candidate in New Hampshire. Reagan was on the rise. A few days later, he went on to the win the New Hampshire Republican Primary. After that, he was well on his way to winning the Republican nomination.

  If strength and decisiveness were what the country was looking for, they were also the traits that Richard Nixon increasingly thought were needed in Washington. That summer the Iran Hostage Crisis became personal for him when the deposed Shah of Iran died. The Carter administration’s only comment came through the State Department. “His death marks the end of an era in Iran, which all hope will be followed by peace and stability,” the statement read in part.

  This outraged Nixon. He found the history of Carter’s treatment of the Shah nauseating. In 1977, President Carter had traveled to Tehran where he toasted the Shah for “the admiration and love which your people give you.” This announcement came as news to the Iranian people, many of whom loathed the dictator. At around the same time, Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini was creating a grassroots movement of Islamic revolutionaries. By 1979, the Shah was facing an uprising from the people Carter had thought loved him. When the Shah was forced to flee the country and seek asylum, President Carter offered to accept him in the U.S. The Shah had declined as he wanted to stay in the neighborhood in the remote hopes he could return to power in Iran. But it was not to be. Khomeini had filled the power vacuum in Iran and created the Islamic Republic of Iran.

  It was at this point that Carter had begun to reconsider his support for the Shah. His ambassador in Iran, William H. Sullivan, warned the White House that granting asylum to the Shah “would almost certainly result in an immediate and violent reaction” in Iran.

  But when news broke in October of 1979 that the Shah had been diagnosed with cancer, domestic pressure mounted on Carter from both outside and inside the White House. Inside, National Security Advisor Brzezinski urged the president to allow the Shah to enter the U.S. for medical treatment. Outside, prominent Republicans were pushing for the same thing. Henry Kissinger blasted the president for making the Shah look like “a Flying Dutchman looking for a port of call.” Carter, largely for humanitarian reasons but also looking to garner Republican and Democratic support for the SALT II Treaty, decided on October 21 to grant the Shah access to the U.S. for medical treatment. It proved to be a fateful decision, which led directly to the militants seizing the U.S. Embassy.

  All of this backstory was very much in Nixon’s mind in the Summer of 1980 as the Shah’s death was announced. And it still angered him. So much so that he decided to do something about it. He made plans to fly to Cairo and attend the Shah’s funeral. It was the ultimate slap in Carter’s face.

  When Nixon arrived in Cairo with his son-in-law Ed Cox and several Secret Service agents, he was greeted by reporters. Nixon did not hold back. Carter’s treatment of the Shah? “One of the black pages of American foreign policy history.” What about the official State Department statement on the Shah’s passing? “The administration didn’t even have the grace to point out that he had been an ally and friend of the United States for 30 years.”6

  But his most savage words were directed at Carter himself. Without naming him, Nixon pointed to the contrast with how Anwar Sadat had handled the Shah. “I think President Sadat’s guts in providing a home for the Shah in his last days at a time when the U.S. turned its back on one of its friends is an inspiration to us all,” he said.

  The comment showed the depth of Nixon’s anger. The former president sensed how real the challenge was in the Middle East and how ill-quipped Carter was to handle it. The presidency, it seemed, was too big for Jimmy Carter. Nixon had talked throughout his career about the need for a leader to take charge. “Get on top of the job or the job will get on top of you,” he would frequently counsel. Now it seemed painfully obvious that the job of president was on top of Carter. And he showed little sign of knowing how to get out from under it.

  After attending the funeral and a dinner that Sadat held for him in Cairo, Nixon traveled with his entourage back to the U.S. It was time to do something, once and for all, about the ineffective Carter White House. And with the 1980 presidential election quickly approaching, Nixon knew just what to do.

  * * *

  By the summer of 1980, Nixon had settled into a familiar routine in his new hometown. Each morning he would rise early and walk the two miles from his townhouse to his office in the Federal Building in New York City. Along the way he would buy coffee and the morning newspapers. Once in his office, which was located on the thirteenth floor, he would begin working. The office itself was ordinary. “The bigger the office the smaller the man,” Nixon often observed. And here at the New York Federal Building, he lived by his own rule. In his office there was a desk, a phone, a coffee table, and some photos of Nixon and foreign leaders. Next door his top aide, Nick Ruwe, worked in his own office. Ruwe had worked as the assistant protocol chief at the White House and had been hired by Nixon when Colonel Brennan left to work in Washington with John Mitchell.

  Each day the two men would follow the same ritual. Ruwe would go through all the mail and Nixon would make calls. At lunch, Nixon would often eat salmon from a tin container while seated at his desk. In the afternoon, Nixon would make his way back to his house. There he would rest and read and think.

  And there was a lot to think about. By this time, Governor Reagan’s momentum, which had begun in New Hampshire, had spread throughout the other primary states. He would win the nomination that summer at the Republican National Convention in Detroit. And Nixon, though originally a fan of Connally’s, was now on board with Reagan.


  Nixon had an advantage in dealing with Reagan—he knew so many of his top staffers. William Casey had served in the Nixon administration, as had Lyn Nofziger. In addition, a former Kissinger protégé named Richard Allen was serving as the Reagan campaign’s top policy aide on foreign policy. And Nixon had been friendly for years with Mike Deaver, Reagan’s indispensable advisor on all things image. These men kept Nixon up to speed on what was going on inside the campaign. And Nixon wasn’t shy about offering advice.

  But not all of Nixon’s work to help Reagan was behind the scenes. When it came to foreign affairs he knew his reputation was strong enough that he could occasionally comment publicly. One such moment came after the New York Times argued that John Anderson, the independent candidate also running for president, possessed more experience in world affairs than the former California governor.

  “I find that in fact Governor Reagan made four official trips abroad at the request of the White House between 1969 and 1973,” Nixon wrote in response to the Times. According to the former president, Reagan had been “well-received” in the sixteen countries that he had visited on behalf of the Nixon White House.7

  Nixon also granted a few television interviews in which he tried to appear fair and balanced but was actually shilling for Reagan. When the candidate makes a mistake, he said on the Today Show— referring to several Reagan gaffes on the campaign trail—it’s the staff’s job to “go out and take the heat.” Nixon then added sharply, “And that’s what the Reagan staff had better learn.” The comment gave the appearance of Nixon being critical of Reagan; actually, he was defending Reagan and shifting blame to his staff.

  Then Nixon turned to the incumbent in the White House. If Reagan’s weakness was “his words,” then Carter’s weakness was “his record.”

  In another interview, Nixon went a step farther. After praising Carter’s intellect and work ethic, he called his administration a “tragedy for the country” and castigated him as “ineffective president.”