RN

by Richard Nixon

  The news of the imminent attack on Israel took us completely by surprise. As recently as the day before, the CIA had reported that war in the Middle East was unlikely, dismissing as annual maneuvers the massive and unusual troop movement that had recently been taking place in Egypt. They had similarly interpreted the dramatic step-up in Syrian military activity as a precautionary move because the Israelis had recently shot down three Syrian jets.

  I was disappointed by our own intelligence shortcomings, and I was stunned by the failure of Israeli intelligence. They were among the best in the world, and they, too, had been caught off guard. For the first time since 1948 the Israelis were about to go into a war without having positioned their equipment or having their reserve troops on standby. It was also Yom Kippur—the Day of Atonement—the holiest day in the Jewish calendar, when most Israelis, including many in the armed forces, would be spending the day at home with their families or in synagogue at prayer. It was the one day of the year when Israel was least prepared to defend itself.

  It was tragic enough that war was once again going to plague this troubled area. But there was an even more disturbing question mark in the background concerning the role of the Soviet Union. It was hard for me to believe that the Egyptians and Syrians would have moved without the knowledge of the Soviets, if not without their direct encouragement.

  In the last few hours before the fighting actually began, Kissinger contacted the Israelis, the Egyptians, and the Soviets to see if war could be prevented. But it was too late. At eight o’clock that morning the Syrians attacked Israel from the north and the Egyptians attacked from the south.

  By the end of the first day of fighting, the Egyptians had crossed the Suez Canal and begun a thrust into the Sinai. In the north the Israelis were pushing the Syrians back in the Golan Heights, but they were unable to rout them as they had in earlier conflicts. Israeli losses were heavy. Mrs. Meir, however, was confident that if the Israelis had three or four days in which to mount a counteroffensive, they could turn the military tide on both fronts. We had convened a special meeting of the UN Security Council right after the fighting began, but there was little interest on either side in holding cease-fire discussions. The Soviets objected to our having called the Security Council into session; they clearly thought that the Arabs would win the war on the battlefield if they had enough time to secure their early victories. The French and the British—also Security Council members—were trying to stay at arm’s length; they did not share our uniquely close ties with Israel and they knew that Arab oil was at stake in this confrontation.

  As far as the American position was concerned, I saw no point in trying to impose a diplomatic cease-fire that neither side wanted or could be expected to observe. It would be better to wait until the war had reached the point at which neither side had a decisive military advantage. Despite the great skepticism of the Israeli hawks, I believed that only a battlefield stalemate would provide the foundation on which fruitful negotiations might begin. Any equilibrium—even if only an equilibrium of mutual exhaustion—would make it easier to reach an enforceable settlement. Therefore, I was convinced that we must not use our influence to bring about a cease-fire that would leave the parties in such imbalance that negotiations for a permanent settlement would never begin. I was also concerned that if the Arabs were actually to start losing this war, the Soviet leaders would feel that they could not stand by and watch their allies suffer another humiliating defeat as they had in 1967.

  We had a particularly delicate situation insofar as the Egyptians were concerned. Beginning in February 1973, with a view toward building better relations, we had had a series of private contacts with them. While we had to keep the interests of the Israelis uppermost during this conflict in which they were the victims of aggression, I hoped that we could support them in such a way that we would not force an irreparable break with the Egyptians, the Syrians, and the other Arab nations. We also had to restrain the Soviets from intervening in any way that would require us to confront them. Underlying all the military complications was the danger that the Arabs would try to bring economic pressure to bear on us by declaring an oil embargo.

  The immensely volatile situation created by the unexpected outbreak of this war could not have come at a more complicated domestic juncture. Agnew was beginning the final plea-bargaining negotiations that would lead to his resignation, and I was faced with the need to select his successor. The media were slamming us with daily Watergate charges, and we had just begun reviewing the subpoenaed tapes in preparation for reaching a compromise with the Special Prosecutor in the unfortunate but likely event that the court of appeals ruled against us. And Congress was pushing to assert its authority by passing a far-reaching bill to restrict the President’s war powers. All these concerns would be interwoven through the next two weeks. Just as a crisis in one area seemed to be settling down, it would be overtaken by a crisis in another area, until all the crises reached a concerted crescendo as we neared the brink of nuclear war.

  By the end of the third day of the Yom Kippur War it was clear that the Israelis had been overconfident about their ability to win a quick victory. The initial battles had gone against them. They had already lost a thousand men—compared with the fewer than 700 lost in the entire 1967 war—and were on the way to losing a third of their tank force. By Tuesday, October 9, the fourth day of the war, we could see that if the Israelis were to continue fighting, we would have to provide them with planes and ammunition to replace their early losses. I had absolutely no doubt or hesitation about what we must do. I met with Kissinger and told him to let the Israelis know that we would replace all their losses, and asked him to work out the logistics for doing so.

  At 6 P.M. Steve Bull stepped in and announced my next appointment. “Mr. President,” he said, “the Vice President.” Ted Agnew walked in behind him. He had come to inform me officially of what I already knew: he had decided to resign.

  We shook hands and sat down in the chairs in front of the fireplace. I spoke first, saying that I knew his decision had been very difficult for him. I knew that he was by nature a man who would almost rather have lost everything fighting, even from his disadvantaged position, than have won the assurance that he would not go to prison at the price of having to compromise with his opponents. I told him how much I had appreciated his hard campaigning in 1968, 1970, and 1972 and the dedicated way he handled all his assignments from me. I asked about his wife and family; I knew how painful it had been for them.

  He was particularly embittered by what he considered the hypocrisy of the members of Congress who had formerly served as governors. He repeated his belief that most of the governors in other states had followed practices such as those common in Maryland. He emphasized that he had always awarded contracts on the basis of merit, and he felt that the amounts he had received had been so small that no reasonable critic could claim that they could have influenced him to make a decision that contravened the public interest. He said that he could not see that what he had done was unethical.

  He mentioned that after a few months he would like to have some kind of foreign assignment; he thought that he could be particularly effective in a Far Eastern country, perhaps Japan. He said he would appreciate anything that I could do to get some corporation to put him on a retainer as a consultant. I said that if an opportunity arose in which I could help, I would do so. At one point he said that he supposed the IRS would be harassing him the rest of his life. “You know, they were even charting up how much I paid for my neckties,” he said bitterly.

  Our meeting was over. I shook his hand and told him that I wished him well. I said that he could always count on me as a friend.

  The next day Agnew walked into the federal courtroom in Baltimore and announced that he was pleading nolo contendere to one count of having knowingly failed to report income for tax purposes, and that he was resigning as Vice President.

  The judge sentenced him to three years’ probation and a $10,000
fine.

  Ted Agnew’s resignation was a personal tragedy for him and for his family, and a national tragedy as well. I wrote to him on October 10, the day he resigned:

  As Vice President, you have addressed the great issues of our times with courage and candor. Your strong patriotism, and your profound dedication to the welfare of the nation, have been an inspiration to all who have served with you as well as to millions of others throughout the country.

  I have been deeply saddened by this whole course of events, and I hope that you and your family will be sustained in the days ahead by a well-justified pride in all that you have contributed to the nation by your years of service as Vice President.

  On the morning of October 10 I met with the Republican and Democratic congressional leaders. I said that our objective was to achieve peace without losing the support we had been able to build up in both the Arab and Israeli camps. So far we had succeeded, and neither side felt that we had turned against it. It was clear that none of these men, not even the most ardently pro-Israel among them, was enthusiastic about the prospect of a Mideast war that might involve American participation. Mike Mansfield said, “Mr. President, we want no more Vietnams.”

  “Is Israel going to lose?” one of the leaders asked apprehensively.

  “No,” I replied. “We will not let Israel go down the tubes.”

  Later that morning, as Agnew was entering his plea in a courtroom in Baltimore, the Israeli ambassador came to the White House to deliver a letter from Golda Meir. She wrote:

  Early this morning I was told of the decision you made to assure us the immediate flow of U.S. matériel. Your decision will have a great and beneficial influence on our fighting capability. I know that in this hour of dire need to Israel, I could turn to you and count on your deep sympathy and understanding.

  We are fighting against heavy odds, but we are fully confident that we shall come out victorious. When we do we will have you in mind.

  I had been checking almost hourly with Kissinger to see how our re-supply effort was coming. The reports were not good.

  “Defense is putting up all kinds of obstacles,” he said. Defense Secretary James Schlesinger was apparently concerned about offending the Arabs and therefore did not want to let any Israeli El Al transport planes land at American military bases. Kissinger had finally persuaded him to relent if the planes first stopped in New York and had their tail markings painted over. I agreed that it was important not to offend the Arabs gratuitously, but we now had reports that a massive Soviet airlift of weapons and supplies was under way to Syria and Egypt, and that three Soviet airborne divisions had been put on alert. The Arabs were obviously trying to consolidate their initial military victories. It was unthinkable that Israel should lose the war for lack of weapons while we were spraying paint over Stars of David. “Tell Schlesinger to speed it up,” I told Kissinger.

  The situation was further complicated when we received intelligence information that our strong ally King Hussein had decided to send a small contingent of Jordanian soldiers to fight with the Syrians. General Brent Scowcroft, who had replaced Haig as Kissinger’s deputy, called the Israeli ambassador and expressed our hope that Israel would not widen the war by attacking Jordan.

  In the midst of the developing Mideast crisis I had to turn my attention to the selection of the new Vice President.

  Several members of Congress came to the White House to talk to me about it. Many of the Democrats were understandably apprehensive at the prospect of the sudden elevation of a strong Republican to a position of such national prominence. Since I would not be able to run again in 1976, my Vice President would enjoy many of the advantages of incumbency if he became the Republican nominee. There was already a drumbeat of demands from the more partisan Democrats that I not appoint anyone who was going to run for President in 1976; they wanted a caretaker Vice President who would simply fill out Agnew’s unexpired term.

  Mike Mansfield in particular urged that I go the caretaker route. His own choices were Senator John Sherman Cooper of Kentucky and Bill Rogers. He said that Connally, Rockefeller, or Reagan would meet with very strong opposition in Congress. This was, and I am sure was meant to be, a signal that if I nominated one of these dynamic Republican presidential contenders, the Democrats would turn very partisan. I said that the primary criterion had to be the man’s qualification for the job, and I deliberately mentioned Jerry Ford as an example of a qualified man. Mansfield lighted his pipe, took some deep puffs, and made no comment.

  I asked Republican Party leaders to list their recommendations for Vice President in order of preference and send the lists to Rose Woods. On the afternoon of October 11 I left for Camp David with Rose’s compilation of the recommendations and the text of an announcement speech that at my direction had been prepared with four optional endings—for John Connally, for Nelson Rockefeller, for Ronald Reagan, and for Jerry Ford.

  Among the approximately 400 top party leaders from all sections of the country and from Congress, the Cabinet, and the White House staff whose recommendations I had solicited, Rockefeller and Reagan were in a virtual tie for first choice; Connally was third; Ford was fourth. Ford, however, was first choice among members of Congress, and they were the ones who would have to approve the man I nominated.

  John Connally had been my own first choice. As early as October 6 I had asked Haig to call him and see whether he would take the position if it were offered to him. I had also wanted to know Connally’s own assessment of his chances of confirmation. Over the next few days we did some quiet checking, and the reports were all the same: Connally simply could not make it. He would be opposed by an overwhelming number of Democrats who would fear him as the strongest possible Republican candidate in 1976. With all the problems I was having with Watergate, I could not become embroiled in a massive partisan slugging match over the selection of the new Vice President.

  I had Haig call Connally again and tell him that, while he still remained my first choice, I was very seriously concerned whether he could survive a confirmation battle. Connally replied that he had been checking through his own sources and had reached the same conclusion.

  Looking at the other choices, I concluded that nominating either Rockefeller or Reagan would split the Republican Party down the middle and result in a bitter partisan fight that, while it might not be fatal in terms of confirmation, might leave scars that would not be healed by 1976. This left Jerry Ford.

  From the outset of the search for a new Vice President I had established four criteria for the man I would select: qualification to be President; ideological affinity; loyalty; and confirmability. I felt that Jerry Ford was qualified to be President if for any reason I did not complete my term; I knew that his views on both domestic and foreign policy were very close to mine and that he would be a dedicated team player; and there was no question that he would be the easiest to get confirmed.

  I returned to the White House early on Friday morning, October 12, and told Haig of my decision. The only other person we informed was Connally. He agreed immediately that Ford was the right choice in the circumstances. I wondered if Connally remembered, as I did, that I had once told him about a conversation I had had with Jerry Ford in 1972, when Ford had told me that in his view Connally was the man for 1976.

  Later that morning a somber-faced Haig brought me the news: the court of appeals, in a 5-2 decision, had ruled against us in the tapes case. We now had one week to decide if we wished to appeal the decision to the Supreme Court.

  Hugh Scott and Jerry Ford arrived to talk about the congressional schedule for the next few days. I revealed nothing of my decision about the vice presidency. According to some reporters, Ford had been hoping that during this visit he would learn that he was going to be named Vice President, and I was amused by news accounts that he had appeared downcast when he left the White House.

  During the afternoon I learned that the plans for resupplying Israel with military equipment had become seriously bottle
necked. Because Israel was a war zone, no insurance company was willing to risk issuing policies for chartered private planes flying there. In order to get around the insurance problem, we raised with the Pentagon the idea of mobilizing a part of the Civil Reserve Air Fleet. The option of flying supplies to the Azores for transshipment to Israel was also considered, and after much discussion we were able to persuade the reluctant Portuguese government to agree to this plan. In the meantime, however, the Soviet airlift was assuming such massive proportions and the Israeli shortages, particularly ammunition, were becoming so serious, that I concluded that any further delay was unacceptable and decided we must use U.S. military aircraft if that was what was necessary to get our supplies through to Israel. I asked Kissinger to convey my decision to the Pentagon and have them prepare a plan. I was shocked when he told me that the Pentagon’s proposal was that we send only three C-5A military transport planes to Israel. Their rationale was that sending a small number of planes would cause fewer difficulties with the Egyptians, the Syrians, and also the Soviets. My reaction was that we would take just as much heat for sending three planes as for sending thirty.

  I called Schlesinger and told him that I understood his concern and appreciated his caution. I assured him that I was fully aware of the gravity of my decision and that I would accept complete personal responsibility if, as a result, we alienated the Arabs and had our oil supplies cut off. I said if we could not get the private planes, we should use our own military transports. “Whichever way we have to do it, get them in the air, now,” I told him.

  When I was informed that there was disagreement in the Pentagon about which kind of plane should be used for the airlift, I became totally exasperated. I said to Kissinger, “Goddamn it, use every one we have. Tell them to send everything that can fly.”

  Shortly after seven o’clock on Friday evening, October 12, I had Haig place the call to Jerry Ford at home to tell him that he was my choice for Vice President and to ask if he was prepared to accept. Ford asked if we could call back on another number so that his wife, Betty, could share the call on an extension phone.