RN

by Richard Nixon

  As we became more at ease and more familiar with each other, our conversations occasionally became light, even humorous.

  During one of our airport drives, Chou told me about a meeting between Chairman Mao and Emperor Haile Selassie a few months before my trip to China was announced. Mao had asked the old Emperor whether he thought that the “socialist devil,” as he humorously called himself, should sit down and talk with the “capitalist devil.” I said, “I expect that many of your colleagues must have thought the reason I didn’t bring a hat with me was because I couldn’t find one to fit over my horns.”

  A recurring theme in our conversations was age. As Malraux had said, the Chinese leaders were obsessed by the amount that remained to be done and by the little time that was left them in which to do it.

  Diary

  Chou came to the age factor two or three times. I said that I was enormously impressed by his vitality and that age really was a question of not how many years a person lived but how much he lived in those years. I seemed to sense that he felt that being involved in great affairs kept a person alive and young, but there was a haunting refrain throughout that he felt that the current leadership was near the end of the road with still very much to be done.

  All the Chinese leaders we met seemed particularly struck by the youth of our entire party. In our first meeting Chou singled out Dwight Chapin, who was only thirty-one and looked even younger. “We have too many elderly people in our leadership. So on this point we should learn from you,” he said. “I have found that you have many young men; Mr. Chapin is very young indeed, and Mr. Green is not very old either.” Marshall Green, the Assistant Secretary of State for East Asia and Pacific Affairs, was fifty-six.

  Despite the fact that I was almost a quarter of a century younger than Mao, I approached this trip as if it were the last chance I would have to do something about the Sino-American relationship. As I put it in a diary dictation shortly after returning home, “I am really probably older than they are—I have only ten months to live (politically)—or at most four years and ten months, and I must get results now. That is why now is the hour for me, even more than for them, despite the fact that they are older in conventional terms.”

  One afternoon as we were discussing the need for patience in the solution of problems, Chou said, “I can’t wait ten years. You have ten years. Mr. President may be re-elected to a third term.”

  “That’s against the Constitution,” Kissinger interjected.

  “After four years then you can run again, because your age permits you to do that. But in view of the age of the present leaders of China, it is not possible. They’re too old,” Chou said.

  “Mr. Prime Minister,” I replied, “former Presidents of the United States are like British kings; they have great responsibility but no power. I mean one who is out of office.”

  “But your career is quite rare in history. You have been Vice President for two terms, then lost and then won an election again. It’s quite rare in history.”

  Our joint statement, issued from Shanghai at the end of the trip, has become known as the Shanghai Communiqué.

  Following the formula Kissinger had worked out during Polo II, the communiqué broke diplomatic ground by stating frankly the significant differences between the two sides on major issues rather than smoothing them over. Thus the text is surprisingly lively for a diplomatic document.

  The first substantive section begins: “The U.S. side stated” and then details our positions on each of the major issues discussed. This is followed by a section that begins: “The Chinese side stated” and then covers the same ground in counterpoint.

  Thus the U.S. side proclaimed its support for the eight-point peace plan proposed by us and the South Vietnamese in Paris on January 27; the Chinese side stated its support for the seven-point proposal put forward by the Vietcong in February.

  We stated our intention to maintain close ties with and support for South Korea; the Chinese endorsed North Korea’s plan for unification of the Korean peninsula, and called for the abolition of the UN presence in South Korea.

  We affirmed that we placed the highest value on our friendly relations with Japan and said that we would continue to develop the existing close bonds; the Chinese side stated that it “firmly opposes the revival and outward expansion of Japanese militarism and firmly supports the Japanese people’s desire to build an independent, democratic, peaceful and neutral Japan.”

  The Chinese stated their claim to be the sole legal government of China and their conviction that Taiwan is a province of China. They affirmed that the liberation of Taiwan was China’s internal affair in which no country had a right to interfere, and demanded that all American forces and military installations be withdrawn from Taiwan. They concluded by stating that “the Chinese government firmly opposes any activities which aim at the creation of ‘One China, one Taiwan,’ ‘one China, two governments,’ ‘two Chinas,’ and ‘independent Taiwan’ or advocate that ‘the status of Taiwan remains to be determined.’ ”

  The wording of the American section on Taiwan avoided a clash by stating simply: “The United States acknowledges that all Chinese on either side of the Taiwan Strait maintain there is but one China and that Taiwan is a part of China. The United States government does not challenge that position. It reaffirms its interest in a peaceful settlement of the Taiwan question by the Chinese themselves.” We stated our ultimate objective of withdrawing American troops from Taiwan but did not put any final date on it, and we agreed in the meantime to reduce our forces and installations on Taiwan progressively “as the tension in the area diminishes.”

  Perhaps the most vitally important section of the Shanghai Communiqué was the provision that neither nation “should seek hegemony in the Asia Pacific region and each is opposed to efforts by any other country or group of countries to establish such hegemony.” By agreeing to this provision both the P.R.C. and the United States were imposing restraints on themselves. But far more important, particularly as far as the Chinese were concerned, was that the provision subtly but unmistakably made it clear that we both would oppose efforts by the U.S.S.R. or any other major power to dominate Asia.

  As I look back on that week in China two impressions stand out most vividly. One is the awesome sight of the disciplined but wildly—almost fanatically—enthusiastic audience at the gymnastic exhibition in Peking, confirming my belief that we must cultivate China during the next few decades while it is still learning to develop its national strength and potential. Otherwise we will one day be confronted with the most formidable enemy that has ever existed in the history of the world.

  My other most vivid memory of the trip is the unique personality of Chou En-lai. My meeting with Mao Tse-tung was too brief and too formal to have given me much more than a superficial personal impression. But many hours of formal talks and social conversation with Chou made me appreciate his brilliance and dynamism.

  Unlike many world leaders and statesmen who are completely absorbed in one particular cause or issue, Chou En-lai was able to talk in broad terms about men and history. Even though his perspective was badly distorted by his rigid ideological frame of reference the extent of his knowledge was impressive.

  After one of the banquets in Peking, I made notes of our conversation.

  Diary

  It was interesting to note the remarkable knowledge of history that Chou En-lai displays, and, also, how his historical perspective is shaped by his ideology. For example, he sees the French intervention in the Revolutionary War as being by volunteers [led by Lafayette] and not by the French government.

  Chou also sees Lincoln [as one] who “after many defeats,” as he put it, finally prevailed because he had the people on his side. While it is true that Lincoln is one of the few great figures in history, he was a total pragmatist. He did not fight the war for the purpose of freeing the slaves, although he was unalterably opposed to slavery; and when he freed the slaves, he did not free them as an end in
itself—he did so as a purely tactical, military maneuver, freeing only the slaves in the South but not in the Northern border states.

  I regret that Chou did not live long enough for me to meet him again when I visited China for the second time in February 1976. I feel that although our acquaintance was brief and necessarily somewhat restrained and even wary, we had formed bonds of mutual respect and personal esteem.

  During our last long session together in the guesthouse in Peking, Chou said, “In your dining room upstairs we have a poem by Chairman Mao in his calligraphy about Lushan mountain. The last sentence reads, ‘The beauty lies at the top of the mountain.’ You have risked something to come to China. But there is another Chinese poem which reads, ‘On perilous peaks dwells beauty in its infinite variety.’ ”

  “We are at the top of the mountain now,” I said.

  “That’s one poem,” he continued. “Another one which I would have liked to have put up, but I couldn’t find an appropriate place, is ‘Ode to a Plum Blossom.’ In that poem the Chairman meant that one who makes an initiative may not always be one who stretches out his or her hand. By the time the blossoms are full-blown, that is the time they are about to disappear.” He took a small book from his pocket and read the poem.

  “Spring disappears with rain and winds

  and comes with flying snow.

  Ice hangs on a thousand feet of cliff

  yet at the tip of the topmost branch the plum blooms.

  The plum is not a delicious girl showing off

  yet she heralds spring.

  When mountain flowers are in wild bloom

  she giggles in all the color.”

  “Therefore,” Chou continued, “we believe we are in accord with the idea you have expressed: you are the one who made the initiative. You may not be there to see its success, but of course we would welcome your return,” he said.

  Kissinger diplomatically pointed out that even if I won re-election, a return visit would not be very likely.

  “I was only trying to illustrate the Chinese way of thinking,” Chou said. “It does not matter anyhow.”

  Chou referred to the fact that I had changed the name of Air Force One to The Spirit of 76 shortly before this trip. “Regardless of who is the next President,” he said, “the spirit of seventy-six still exists and will prevail. From the standpoint of policies, I hope that our counterpart will be the same so that we can continue our efforts. We also hope not only that the President continues in office but that your National Security Adviser and your assistants continue in office. Various changes may be bound to come. For example, if I should suddenly die of a heart attack, you would also have to deal with a different counterpart. Therefore, we have tried to bring more people to meet you. I hope you won’t complain that I am too lengthy in my words.”

  I assured him that, on the contrary, I was very interested in what he was saying.

  “This belongs to the philosophic field, but also to the political point of view. For example,” he said, pointing to the book of poems open in his lap, “this poem was written after a military victory over the enemy. In the whole poem there is not one word about the enemy; it was very difficult to write the poem.”

  “Of course, I believe it is very useful to think in philosophic terms,” I said. “Too often we look at problems of the world from the point of view of tactics. We take the short view. If the one who wrote that poem took the short view, you would not be here today. It is essential to look at the world not just in terms of immediate diplomatic battles and decisions but the great forces that move the world. Maybe we have some disagreements, but we know there will be changes, and we know that there can be a better, and I trust safer, world for our two peoples regardless of differences if we can find common ground.”

  I described the real nature of my thinking behind the China initiative in notes I made at 2:30 A.M. on Friday, February 24, of points I planned to make in my meeting with Chou that afternoon. Perhaps if I could have publicized these notes the conservative critics of the China initiative would at least have felt reassured that I had not approached the Chinese naïvely.

  The first was to emphasize the immense potential of the Chinese living overseas, and the need for the P.R.C. to use that potential and learn to live with it, rather than to blunt it by trying to drive them into the system.

  The second was to emphasize that RN would turn like a cobra on the Russians, or for that matter on anyone else, if they break their word with him. My record in Vietnam helped in getting this point across.

  The third was to emphasize, in a very personal and direct way, my intense belief in our system and my belief that in peaceful competition it would prevail. I think we have gotten that across. I believe that it is essential not to let the assumption exist at all on their part that their system will eventually prevail because of its superiority.

  Related to this point is that we are not going to become weak—that our system is not coming apart at the seams—and that all of the public criticism, etc., of our system should not be taken as a sign of weakness.

  In my toast at the banquet on our last night in China I said, “The joint communiqué which we have issued today summarizes the results of our talks. That communiqué will make headlines around the world tomorrow. But what we have said in that communiqué is not nearly as important as what we will do in the years ahead to build a bridge across 16,000 miles and twenty-two years of hostility which have divided us in the past.”

  I raised my glass and said, “We have been here a week. This was the week that changed the world.”

  ITT

  The day after we returned from China, Jack Anderson began a series of newspaper columns in which he claimed to have unearthed a major administration scandal. His charges were based on a memorandum allegedly from Dita Beard, a lobbyist for International Telephone and Telegraph Corporation, to one of her ITT superiors. Anderson said that the memo implied that a government anti-trust settlement with ITT had been influenced by an ITT contribution toward the upcoming Republican convention and that John Mitchell and I had pushed for favorable treatment for ITT because of this contribution. Mrs. Beard supposedly managed this whole deal almost single-handedly.

  In fact, the anti-trust settlement in question had been a favorable one for the government and not for ITT, which was required to divest itself of holdings representing $1 billion in sales. On the first trading day after this settlement ITT’s stock fell 11 percent. Furthermore, the money that allegedly influenced the settlement was not a contribution to the Committee to Re-elect the President or to the Republican Party, but to the city of San Diego so that the city could bid to be the site of the 1972 Republican National Convention. It is standard practice for local businesses to help underwrite a city’s convention bid, and the Sheraton division of ITT, which was in the process of opening a new hotel in San Diego, saw the contribution as a promotional investment: the nationwide publicity and prestige that would come with being the presidential staff headquarters during convention week would be worth the payment to San Diego.

  My own role in the ITT anti-trust matter consisted of one angry phone call to Dick Kleindienst almost a year earlier at the time of three Justice Department anti-trust suits against ITT. Kleindienst, Mitchell’s deputy, was in charge of the case due to the fact that Mitchell had excused himself because an ITT subsidiary had been a client of our former law firm.

  As I saw it, the Justice Department suits were a clear violation of my anti-trust policy. I was convinced that American companies would be able to compete in the international market only if they were as big and strong as the government-sheltered monopolies in so many foreign countries, and therefore I had instructed that big businesses were to be broken up only when they violated the laws of fair competition and not simply because they were big. I had made this position clear at staff and Cabinet meetings—and now some subordinate officials in the Justice Department were pursuing a course that deliberately contradicted it. ITT officials felt they
were being unfairly sued and descended upon Washington in an effort to get the suits dropped. They had seen members of Congress from both parties and also everyone they could reach in the administration who would give them a hearing. When one case came to trial at the end of 1970, the court agreed that the suit was groundless and ruled against the Justice Department.

  Several weeks later I learned that the Justice Department was going to appeal this decision to a higher court. I called Kleindienst and ordered him not to do it. The original suit had been contrary to my specifically stated policy, and I was was not going to countenance further defiance by any subordinate or by any department. Two days later, when my anger had cooled, I was approached by John Mitchell. He was sensitive to the tempers and the egos at the Justice Department. He urged me to retract my order to Kleindienst, advising that if I did not, there would be resignations within the department and that would mean noisy congressional hearings and a general political mess. He explained the policy conflict as the result of unintentional confusion. I agreed to refrain from interfering in the Anti-Trust Division’s decision to appeal the case.

  As it turned out—for reasons wholly unrelated to my call to Kleindienst or to any contributions toward the selection of the Republican convention site—the Justice officials prosecuting the case decided to settle it and not proceed with the appeal. Months later both Watergate Special Prosecutors, Archibald Cox and Leon Jaworski, investigated the ITT case and concluded that there had been no quid pro quo involved in the settlement. When the tapes of my conversations with Mitchell and Kleindienst were turned over, they proved that my motive in ordering that no appeal be filed was policy and not politics. But this vindication was more than a year away. In that pre-election spring of 1972, the Democrats played the ITT issue to the hilt. And by the way we reacted we played right into their hands.