RN

by Richard Nixon

  After talking with both Jerry and Betty, I went to the Residence to tell Pat the news. “Good,” she said. “I guessed it.”

  At nine that night the announcement was made at a televised ceremony in the East Room. Afterward the family joined me while I ate dinner. I had just finished a small steak when Haig came in to discuss the latest Soviet message, which had been delivered to the White House earlier in the evening.

  The message stated that they had heard we were supplying Israel with bombs, air-to-air missiles, planes, and tanks. They said that they had also heard rumors that 150 American Air Force pilots were going to Israel disguised as tourists. No threats were made, but the menacing tone and intention of the message were clear. Of course, there was no mention of the massive Soviet airlift, which was by then supplying an estimated 700 tons of weapons and matériel daily to Syria and Egypt.

  This message was premature. Our airlift to Israel had not yet begun at the time he wrote, but the next day, Saturday, October 13, at 3:30 P.M., thirty C-130 transports were on their way to Israel.

  By Tuesday we were sending in a thousand tons a day. Over the next few weeks there would be more than 550 American missions, an operation bigger than the Berlin airlift of 1948-49. I also ordered that an additional ten Phantom Jets be delivered to Israel.

  In fact, the Israelis had already begun to turn the tide of battle on their own, and with our infusion of new supplies they were able to push all the way to the outskirts of Damascus and were close to encircling the Egyptian forces in the Sinai.

  It was not until Saturday morning that I finally had time to go over the decision of the court of appeals, which had ruled against us in the Special Prosecutor’s suit for the nine tapes.

  In one sense the ruling was a victory, because the court accepted our argument that wholesale access to executive deliberations would cripple the government. The majority opinion said that the ruling should be considered an “unusual and limited” requirement for a President to produce material evidence. But such a victory was relative at best because the majority on the court rejected our contention that only a President could decide whether such material was or was not privileged. Instead they arrogated that power to themselves.

  The ruling was a serious blow to me personally, even though I had tried to prepare myself for it, as indicated by notes I had made for discussion with Haig and Ziegler:

  We must not kid ourselves; we must face these facts.

  After our August 15 statement, Gallup showed us with 38 percent support; since then we’ve had the August 22 press conference, the September 5 press conference, and a backbreaking schedule of foreign and domestic newsworthy events. We hear from some of our friends in Congress that Congress is in a better mood; that Ervin is going down in public esteem; that the news is not as biased as it was.

  Yet both Gallup and Harris show our support going down from 38 in Gallup to 32, and in Harris the number of resignation rising to 31, with 56 opposed.

  The question is: are we facing the facts? Aren’t we in a losing battle with the media despite the personal efforts I have made over the past month particularly? Are we facing the fact that the public attitudes may have hardened to the point that we can’t change them?

  The situation was intolerable. Week by week, month by month, we were being worn down, trapped, paralyzed. The Ervin Committee continued its leaks and accusations. It had been four and a half months since Haldeman and Ehrlichman resigned; four months since Cox was named. Nothing had been resolved. The investigations dragged on. Despite the fact that a President can only be impeached, rumors that he wanted to indict me continued. Strong conservatives in Congress and on my staff had long felt that he had to go, both because of the liberal enclave he had established and also because of the parasite he had become, dangerously draining the executive month after month. Firing him seemed the only way to rid the administration of the partisan viper we had planted in our bosom. Whether or not we decided to appeal to the Supreme Court in this particular tapes case, I knew that it would be only a matter of days before Cox would be back for more, and then more after that.

  This ruling had come at the worst possible time: we were in the midst of a major world crisis in the Middle East, and in the aftermath of the shattering domestic trauma of the resignation of a Vice President. But any such considerations were extraneous to the timetable imposed on us by the ruling. We had until midnight on Friday either to comply or to file a further appeal.

  Appointing a Special Prosecutor had been a major mistake, one that I knew would be difficult and costly to remedy. If I could develop an acceptable compromise on the battle for the tapes, I decided to fire Cox and return the Watergate investigation to the Justice Department, where it had been considered 90 percent complete months earlier and where the investigators would not have the interest Cox and his staff had in self-perpetuation.

  When the idea of supplying summaries instead of transcripts of the subpoenaed tapes had first been explored at the end of September, we had begun thinking of finding some outside person who could verify their accuracy. Fred Buzhardt suggested Senator John Stennis of Mississippi. Stennis was a Democrat, the Chairman of the Senate Select Committee on Standards and Conduct, a former judge, and one of the few men in Congress respected by members of both parties for his fairness and integrity. Summaries, we felt, would not compromise the critical question of precedent.

  On Sunday, October 14, I saw Stennis for a few minutes after the White House worship service and mentioned the possibility of his verifying the accuracy of some tape summaries. He felt he could handle the job.

  The next day, Monday, October 15, Haig called in Elliot Richardson. Cox was officially Richardson’s subordinate, and therefore Richardson would be the one who would have to fire him. Richardson, however, was an unpredictable element. He had publicly acknowledged the constitutional foundations of my refusal to hand over tapes when they were first subpoenaed; but he had also promised at his confirmation hearings that he would not fire Cox except for “extraordinary improprieties,” and Richardson might feel that if he fired Cox he too would have to resign for breaking his promise to the Senate. After their meeting Haig confirmed that this was indeed how Richardson felt. Besides, I thought, no one could ignore the reality of the situation: Cox had become a Watergate hero.

  Richardson’s resignation was something we wanted to avoid at all costs. Haig and I decided to approach him with a compromise: we would not insist on firing Cox, but we would go ahead with the Stennis plan. I was still determined that this would be the end of our compromises with Cox. Haig told Richardson this and reported back that Richardson felt that the plan was good and reasonable and that Stennis was perfect for the job. He also said that he had received Richardson’s assurance that if Cox refused to accept the Stennis compromise, Richardson would support me in the controversy that was bound to ensue. Haig said that Richardson was confident there would be no problem and that Cox, who had been his mentor at Harvard Law School and with whom he had been friendly ever since, would agree to the compromise.

  On Monday Haig and Buzhardt went to see Stennis and confirmed the arrangements. Stennis would verify the line-by-line third-person summaries of the tapes that we produced and attest to the propriety of whatever omissions we made of material that dealt with irrelevant or national security matters. We had also decided to provide the verified summaries to Ervin and Baker for the Watergate Committee.

  On October 17 I met in the Oval Office with four Arab Foreign Ministers. Afterward the Saudi Foreign Minister told reporters, “We think the man who could solve the Vietnam war, the man who could have settled the peace all over the world, can easily play a good role in settling and having peace in our area of the Middle East.”

  At 8:45 P.M. on Thursday, October 18, we received word of a proposal the Soviets intended to submit to the UN Security Council for a joint Mideast cease-fire resolution. The combination of Israeli successes and our military airlift had proved too much for the Arabs and th
eir Soviet sponsors, who proposed a resolution based on the three principles of a cease-fire in place, immediate withdrawal by the Israelis to the borders described in UN Resolution 242—in other words, to the pre-1967 borders—and the beginning of consultations on a peace agreement.

  These terms reflected the familiar Soviet insistence that before any discussions of peace could begin, the Israelis would have to give up the territory they had gained in the 1967 war. This demand was utterly unrealistic, since the Israelis saw this territory not just as their leverage in any negotiations but as essential to their national security in the present environment. Besides, the recent Israeli battlefield successes had given them a decided military advantage, and there was no chance whatever that they would accept willingly the same terms the Arabs would have tried to impose if they had been the victors.

  I sent a response that did not commit us to accepting the Soviet proposal but stressed the importance of keeping communications open. I said that our détente would remain incomplete unless peace was achieved in the Middle East and both of us had played a part in it.

  In the meantime Haig reported that Richardson had talked with Cox but could not persuade him to compromise. Cox was unwilling to accept Stennis’s verification. Richardson told Haig that Cox didn’t have the sense of who Stennis was—his integrity—that Washington insiders had. Not only that, Cox wanted specific assurances of total access to all White House documents and tapes in the future. Haig reported that even Richardson thought this was unreasonable. More than ever I wanted Cox fired.

  On Thursday and Friday, October 18 and 19, Richardson met twice with Haig, Wright, Garment, and Buzhardt. Haig told me that Richardson had suggested as an alternative to firing Cox, putting what he called “parameters” around him. The Special Prosecutor, as a part of the executive branch, was required to obey the orders of his superiors. The parameters could include an instruction that he was forbidden to sue for any further presidential documents. In the meantime we would bypass Cox with the Stennis compromise by offering the transcripts to the court and to the Ervin Committee.

  Haig told me that our lawyers had analyzed Cox’s possible reactions to Richardson’s proposal and decided that he had three possible choices: he could accept the Stennis compromise; he could reject it and do nothing; or he could reject it and resign. According to Haig, everyone was certain that Cox, if he did not accept the Stennis compromise, would resign in protest against it; this would pose no problem for Richardson.

  On October 19, while we were still trying to determine the best way to deal with Cox, a letter arrived from Brezhnev. He said that the situation in the Middle East was becoming more and more dangerous. Since neither the United States nor the Soviet Union wanted to see our relations harmed, he stated that we both should do our utmost to keep events in the Middle East from taking an even more dangerous turn. He suggested that Kissinger come to Moscow for direct talks.

  We had reached a critical juncture in the war. The Israelis were now defeating the Arabs on the battlefield, and over the next few days the Soviets would have to decide what they were going to do about it. In the afternoon I sent Congress a request for $2.2 billion in emergency aid for Israel. On October 17 the Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries had voted to reduce crude oil production. Within a few days after my request for aid to Israel, Abu Dhabi, Libya, Saudi Arabia, Algeria, and Kuwait had imposed total oil embargoes on the United States. Even so, I felt that we could do no less for Israel at such a critical time.

  Later that same afternoon, October 19, Haig brought me word of what he called a “tepid” complaint from Richardson about some of the terms of our plan for dealing with Cox. “It’s no big problem,” Haig said.

  At 5:25 P.M., Sam Ervin and Howard Baker arrived at my office. They had been reached in New Orleans and Chicago respectively and brought to Washington aboard Air Force jets. When I told them about the Stennis compromise, they both seemed pleased and relieved.

  Ervin was very respectful during the meeting. Toward the end I told him that I regretted that I had talked to him so bluntly on the telephone in July. He said that he had not realized at the time that I was ill and that no apologies were necessary. After Baker and Ervin had agreed to the Stennis compromise, Haig notified the members of the White House staff, the Cabinet, and Jerry Ford. Everyone was elated by the news.

  It was reported to me later that Bryce Harlow, who was helping Haig make the calls to the Cabinet, mistakenly called Elliot Richardson. He quickly apologized, but Richardson gave a petulant reply: “I have never been treated so shabbily.” Harlow reported this incident to Haig, who immediately called Richardson and said that he was astonished to hear what he had said to Harlow. Richardson apologized. He told Haig that he was very tired and had had a drink and that things were looking much better to him now.

  I announced the Stennis compromise in a statement released at 8:15 that night. I began with a reference to the extremely delicate world situation at that very moment:

  What matters most, in this critical hour, is our ability to act—and to act in a way that enables us to control events, not to be paralyzed and overwhelmed by them. At home, the Watergate issue has taken on overtones of a partisan political contest. Concurrently, there are those in the international community who may be tempted by our Watergate-related difficulties at home to misread America’s unity and resolve in meeting the challenges we confront abroad.

  Then I described the Stennis compromise and stated that the verified summaries would be sent to Judge Sirica and to the Ervin Committee. Having done this, I announced the instruction to Cox to cease and desist from his Watergate fishing expedition:

  Though I have not wished to intrude upon the independence of the Special Prosecutor, I have felt it necessary to direct him, as an employee of the executive branch, to make no further attempts by judicial process to obtain tapes, notes, or memoranda of presidential conversations. I believe that with the statement that will be provided to the court, any legitimate need of the Special Prosecutor is fully satisfied and that he can proceed to obtain indictments against those who may have committed any crimes. And I believe that by these actions I have taken today, America will be spared the anguish of further indecision and litigation about tapes.

  The initial congressional and public reaction to the Stennis compromise was favorable. Congressional colleagues of both parties expressed confidence in Stennis. David Broder wrote a column describing him as the logical man for the job.

  I had immediately agreed to Brezhnev’s suggestion that Kissinger go to Moscow for direct talks about the Middle East. At midnight on October 19, just before Kissinger was to leave for Moscow, I phoned him to discuss his trip.

  The next morning, Saturday, October 20, I sent a stern letter to Brezhnev. I purposely mitigated the hard language in the text with a handwritten note extending best personal regards from Pat and me to him and Mrs. Brezhnev. Brezhnev, I knew, would understand what this mixture conveyed: if he was willing to get behind a serious peace effort, I would not consider that the Soviet airlift had affected our personal relationship or deflected the course of détente.

  Shortly after Kissinger arrived in Moscow, he sent me a letter from Brezhnev, echoing the sentiments of my letter and containing a similar handwritten postscript: “Mrs. Brezhnev is grateful for the regards and in turn joins me in sending our best personal regards to Mrs. Nixon and to you.”

  Early Saturday afternoon Cox called a press conference. Adopting the air of a modest and even befuddled professor, he said, “I am certainly not out to get the President of the United States. I am even worried, to put it in colloquial terms, that I am getting too big for my britches, that what I see as principle could be vanity. . . . It is sort of embarrassing to be put in the position to say, well, I don’t want the President of the United States to tell me what to do.” He said that he was going ahead with his request for the tapes despite the compromise I had offered. He said he questioned whether anyone but Elliot Richardson c
ould give him instructions that he was legally obligated to obey.

  I strongly felt that I could not allow Cox to defy openly a presidential directive. I thought of Brezhnev and how it would look to the Soviets if in the midst of our diplomatic showdown with them I were in the position of having to defer to the demands of one of my own employees. Furthermore, I thought that Cox had deliberately exceeded his authority; I felt that he was trying to get me personally, and I wanted him out.

  Shortly after two o’clock Haig called Richardson and asked him to fire Cox. Richardson said that he would not, and that he wanted to see me in order to resign. There were rumors that Richardson in conversations with others was now trying to back off from his own role in the formulation of the Stennis compromise and the cease-and-desist directive to Cox.

  When Richardson arrived at the White House, Haig appealed to him to withhold his resignation at least until the Mideast crisis had been resolved. The impact of his resignation during this crisis, while Kissinger was meeting with Brezhnev, might have incalculable effects, not just on the Soviets’ assessment of our intentions and our strength, but on the morale within our own government. I later asked Len Garment, “If I can’t get an order carried out by my Attorney General, how can I get arms to Israel?” But Richardson refused to wait even a few days.

  Shortly after 4:30 he was ushered into the Oval Office to tender his resignation. It was an emotional meeting. I talked to him about the gravity of the decision he was making and the ramifications of the things it might precipitate. I told him how serious I thought the next days were going to be with respect to the situation in the Mideast, and I repeated Haig’s arguments in a personal appeal to him to delay his resignation in order not to trigger a domestic crisis at such a critical time for us abroad. Again he refused. He thanked me for being such a good friend and for having honored him with so many high appointments.