All the Best, George Bush: My Life in Letters and Other Writings

by George H. W. Bush

  . . . I was sorely tempted there with the Vice President to talk about immunity. I did tell him about my concern and agony over the family, but I felt like saying, “Jerry, you must, you have to clear this matter from the Nation’s conscience by declaring when you become President that Watergate is behind us.” The President will not be harassed by every penny ante judge or prosecutor in this country. Surely this nation has that much forgiveness in its heart.

  August 7, 1974

  Hon. Alexander Haig, Jr.

  The White House

  Washington, D. C.

  Dear Al:

  I have no plans to release this letter, but it comes from the heart as I am sure you know. . . .

  Respectfully,

  George Bush

  August 7, 1974

  The Honorable Richard M. Nixon

  President of the United States

  Washington, D. C.

  Dear Mr. President:

  It is my considered judgment that you should now resign. I expect in your lonely embattled position this would seem to you as an act of disloyalty from one you have supported and helped in so many ways.

  My own view is that I would now ill serve a President, whose massive accomplishments I will always respect and whose family I love, if I did not now give you my judgment.

  Until this moment resignation has been no answer at all, but given the impact of the latest development, and it will be a lasting one, I now firmly feel resignation is best for this country, best for this President. I believe this view is held by most Republican leaders across the country.

  This letter is made much more difficult because of the gratitude I will always have for you.

  If you do leave office history will properly record your achievements with a lasting respect.

  Very sincerely,

  George Bush

  The President announced to the nation on August 8 that he was resigning, effective noon the next day.

  August 8, 1974

  . . . The day was unreal. A pall was over the White House. I met with the Vice President. We discussed [Democratic Congressman] Dan Rostenkowski’s offer to be helpful in lining up votes for the Vice President to grant immunity. I talked about the White House staff and my concerns about it. I particularly mentioned the press section, and that Ziegler had to go. I told the Vice President that I had dealt with this situation for a year and a half and would like to have an input based on experience with whomever was going to sort that all out. He indicated that he had seen the President, the President had told him that of the whole Cabinet in his view Kissinger should stay and in the White House Haig should stay.

  I then went on to the National Security Council. I told him that in my judgment he should revert to something between what it used to be when Rogers was Secretary of State and what it is now when Kissinger totally dominates it.24 I said that the President must put an imprint of his own on foreign policy, that there must be a mediator in the White House as the head of NSC who would mediate between the Secretary of State and the Defense Department, and represent solely the President or present solely to the President the views of these two departments. . . . The Vice President made little comment on this but seemed to have some appreciation of what I was talking about.

  I then went to the National Committee, told him that I should resign from there, that again the Vice President should be looking forward to ’76 very soon, that there would be a honeymoon period during which the National Committee would do anything he wanted, that he should get his own man in there and get him in right away.25 He indicated that he wanted me to stay for awhile, that he had total confidence in me, that he didn’t want it to look like he didn’t have confidence in me, nor did he want it to look like I didn’t have confidence in him, by doing anything precipitous. . . . During the visit his son called in from way out in Utah. It was really amazing to hear the father talking to the son—down to earth. The son had heard part of what was happening—and Jerry told him matter of factly that the next day at noon he would be sworn in and about how the kid was going to get there. There was a natural quality about it all. . . .

  August 9, 1974

  There is no way to really describe the emotion of the day. Bar and I went down and had breakfast at the White House. Dean and Pat Burch and the Buchanans were there in the conference Mess. There was an aura of sadness, like somebody died. Grief. Saw Tricia and Eddie Cox in the Rose Garden—talked to them on the way into the ceremony. President Nixon looked just awful. He used glasses—the first time I ever saw them. Close to breaking down—understandably. Everyone in the room in tears. The speech was vintage Nixon—a kick or two at the press—enormous strains. One couldn’t help but look at the family and the whole thing and think of his accomplishments and then think of the shame and wonder what kind of a man is this really. No morality—kicking his friends in those tapes—all of them. Gratuitous abuse. Caring for no one and yet doing so much. . . .

  The Nixon speech was masterful. In spite of his inability to totally resist a dig at the press, that argument about hating—only if you hate do you join the haters. We walked through the bottom lobby to go out. Many of the pictures were changed with a great emphasis on the new President. We went over and hung around waiting for the swearing in of Ford. And then the whole mood changed. It was quiet, respectful, sorrowful in one sense, but upbeat. The music and the band seemed cheerier, the talking and babbling of voices after Ford’s fantastic speech, crowds of friends, indeed a new spirit, a new lift. I walked through the line and the President was warm and friendly, kissing the wives, telling Bar he appreciated my job, and on and on. It was much more relaxed. There of course were a lot of people that didn’t know what they were going to do. There was great turmoil in that sense.

  The rest of the day was swirling around on the vice presidential speculation. We got our telegrams out asking for input from the National Committee. . . . Jerry Pettis working on it, a lot of speculation. Timmons26 called to say the President wanted to talk to me about this matter at 3:00 p.m. on Sunday. . . . Quiet evening. Suspense mounting again. Deep down inside I think maybe it should work this time. I have that inner feeling that it will finally abort. I sure hope not. Another defeat in this line is going to be tough but then again it is awful egotistical to think I should be selected.

  On August 20, I was in Kennebunkport, watching TV with my family and waiting for the President to enter the East Room of the White House to announce his vice-presidential choice. While the TV announcers were speculating as to why the President was late, our telephone rang. It was President Ford, telling me he had picked Nelson Rockefeller. He did not have to take the time to call and tell me that, but that was typical of Jerry Ford. I wrote Jim Baker.

  August 21, 1974

  Dear Bake—

  Yesterday was an enormous personal disappointment. For valid reasons we made the finals (valid reasons I mean a lot of Hill, RNC, & letter support) and so the defeat was more intense—

  But that was yesterday. Today and tomorrow will be different for I see now, clearly, what it means to have really close friends—more clearly than ever before in my life. I take personal pleasure from the great official support, but I take even more from the way our friends rallied around. None did more than you to help me with a problem that burned my soul and conscience. The sun is about to come out and life looks pretty darn good—

  Thanks

  George

  August 22

  Meeting in Oval Office . . . The President indicated that the decision on the VP had been very close. “You should have been very complimented by the support.” “What do you want?” Haig had indicated that the President had told him George can have anything he wants. . . .

  We discussed my being chief of staff if there was some real substance. I brought it up. Ford seemed very interested in that. Ford just having said however that the chief of staff job was changed—he wanted to see more people than Nixon did. He wanted to deal more with them himself. I told him I could see a
role where I would deal with the embassies, special interest groups, etc. but only if there was some stature or substance involved in this deal.

  We went back and talked more about England. He wondered if it was substantive enough—so did I. We talked about the money. I told him I had lost a lot of money and didn’t know if I could afford it. He indicated there were some outside ways of doing this. I told him I was aware of this from my U.N. days.27

  Ford said, “I will mention it to Kissinger. I see no problems there.” We also touched on France and China. . . .

  We went back to China. I told him the U.N. vote conceivably could be against me although I got along with them once they were there. I told him that I was very interested in foreign affairs. . . . I indicated that way down the line, maybe 1980, if I stayed involved in foreign affairs, I conceivably could qualify for Secretary of State. The President seemed to agree. He was very warm, very grateful, very friendly. I told him that if I was appointed to England the party people would think he was moving me over and out—or kicking me upstairs. I told him this was perfectly OK with me though because I thought it was a great challenge. I told him, “You don’t owe me a thing. I could very easily go back into private life.” Indeed we discussed it. He said, “I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want to lose your talents.”

  After much thought, and after discussing it with Barbara, I decided what I really wanted to do was represent the United States in China. We did not yet have full diplomatic relations, which meant I would not be an ambassador but a “liaison officer.” But I felt China was so important to our future, and a bigger diplomatic challenge than even Great Britain or France. I decided I needed to talk to the best China expert I knew—President Nixon.

  September 4, 1974

  Talked to President Nixon—reserved, very reserved—“How’s your family”? “Fine, George. Give my best to your family,” he said. He was very formal, very perfunctory. I said it would be nice to come out there.28 Hinted twice about being nice to chat—like very much to visit on this, and the President never responded. He sounded very quiet. He chatted a little bit about China—saying that after 25 years—that it would be such a power—that [my job] would be kind of lonely and quiet—things are isolated and separated—you only see people at big diplomatic functions—but it would be a great experience.

  He was less than warm personally. I inquired about him and he was reserved. I gave him credit saying “This wouldn’t have been possible of course without you” etc., etc., but he never warmed up at that. The conversation was very brief. . . .

  September 16, 1974

  Mrs. Estelle Stacy Carrier

  Secretary, Republican National Committee

  Washington, D. C. 20003

  Dear Mrs. Carrier:

  I hereby submit my resignation as Chairman of the Republican National Committee.

  Sincerely,

  George Bush

  UNITED STATES LIAISON OFFICE

  PEKING, PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF CHINA

  CHAPTER 6

  China

  Barbara and I began preparing immediately for our move to China. She packed and got the children settled in various schools while I attended endless briefings at the State Department. We both took Chinese lessons. Finally, on October 17, we left. Even before we reached Chinese soil, I began keeping a diary about the adventure and challenge that awaited us.

  This is the beginning of Peking1 Diary. October 21, 1974

  . . . My emotions are mixed about this. I read the Japan Times. I begin already to wish I had more details on American politics, the elections. . . .

  When we got to Anchorage there was a message for me to call Leon Jaworski.2 . . . They were asking me about a conversation on tape in April, 1973. They had not heard the tape but they saw a transcript. In it Richard Moore apparently told President Nixon that I had been approached by Mardian3 to raise $30,000 for the Watergate defendants and that Moore told the President that I refused to do this and had urged the whole thing to come out. They were asking me my recollection. I told them that I had absolutely no recollection of this, that I was confident I had not talked to Mardian about this, that I hadn’t seen him since I had become National Chairman. Indeed I hadn’t seen him since perhaps a year before that and then only in passing. . . . I told them I would look at my notes and try to recall any conversation. . . .

  The incident itself is not important except that here I was leaving the United States, last point of land, and a call out of the ugly past wondering about something having to do with Watergate, cover-up and all those matters that I want to leave behind.

  In going to China I am asking myself, “Am I running away from something?”, “Am I leaving—what with inflation, incivility in the press and Watergate and all the ugliness?” Am I taking the easy way out?” The answer I think is “no” because of the intrigue and fascination that is China.

  I think it is an important assignment, it is what I want to do, it is what I told the President I want to do, and all in all, in spite of the great warnings of isolation, I think it is right—at least for now.

  General Notes—People at the State Department seem scared to death about our China policy. Kissinger keeps the cards so close to his chest that able officers in EA4 seem unwilling to take any kinds of initiative. This troubles me a little bit because I worry that our policy is “plateaued out,” and that if we don’t do something the policy will come under the microscopic scrutiny the CIA has come under, that the Middle East policy has come under. And indeed the American people are going to be looking for forward motion. And it is my hope that I will be able to meet the next generation of China’s leaders—whomever they may prove to be. Yet everyone tells me that that is impossible. I have the feeling that David Bruce5 felt it was best to have a small mission, keep a very low profile, do little reporting and to feel his way along on this new relationship. He was revered, properly so and respected, but my hyper-adrenaline, political instincts tell me that the fun of this job is going to be to try to do more, make more contacts. Although everyone all along the line says that you will be frustrated, won’t be able to make contacts, won’t be able to meet people, they will never come see you, etc. etc. I fear this may be true, but the fun will be trying . . .

  October 25, 1974

  Strauss6 you old bastard,

  You’ll never believe this.

  I come to Peking, China to get away from you—I’m doing my thing—out of politics half way around the world . . . trying to bring peace to a troubled world—when I turn on the short wave and ‘midst much whistling and woofing I hear—“Robert Strauss called Pres. Ford’s statement irresponsible.”

  . . . How far away do I have to go?

  Anyway we’re here—fascinating in so many ways—I miss our jousts and our leisure times of pleasantness, but this is right for us for now. We are happy—

  Hang in—pleasantly—

  Best to all at DNC but damn it lose!! Bar sends love.

  Best

  GB

  October 25, 1974

  . . . We went to bed early. They put a board under my bed, making it properly hard but we were confused. The wind was whistling outside and yet the heat inside was enormous. I went around and turned off all the heaters. Bar got snoring again just like West Texas. I turned on the Sears humidifier and she did OK. She’ll have that place singing in a day or two. It needs pictures, it needs some warmth, it needs some table-top items, but other than that we have inherited a lot in the Bruce style. It’s great. All’s well. End first night. No substance. Lot of new sights and sounds and smells. Don’t drink the water. The soap is good. The eggs are little. Short-wave makes a lot of whistling sounds—sounds just like 30 years ago . . .

  October 27, 1974

  . . . People stare at you. Gather around the car. Look at you. Once in a while smile. No hostility but tremendous curiosity. Our driver, Mr. Kuo, is amazing. It looks to me like we are going to crash into bicycles, donkey carts, overloaded buses, trailer-type setups
, or get lost in a dust storm but sure enough Mr. Kuo manages. Yesterday a bicyclist almost ran in front of us and Mr. Kuo held up his finger and disciplined the young bike rider with a rather serious reprimand. The kid looked somewhat chastened but continued boldly across the great breadth of highway and was soon blended into a jillion other cyclists, a bunch of buses, and a few pulled donkey carts.

  October 27, 1974

  Dear Kids,

  This is the first chance I’ve had to write. Excuse my typing but this is the best way to make it readable. Life here is really different—a world of contrast. The society is closed no dissent, no real freedoms; and yet they’ve made much progress from the bad old days with people dying on the street etc. Our house is nice—plenty of room for all of you. The people helping us (large staff) speak no English at all. We’ve been having our large meal at noon—always new Chinese dishes—they are sensational but the jelly-like spiked sea slugs that looked like those horrible Sculpins in Maine only smaller. The rest of the dishes are really something—I hope I’m not putting on weight.

  Some observations: too few contact with the Chinese officials and people—they just don’t want the contacts. Everything gets gray in Peking—it’s like west Texas in a lot of ways—lots of dust in the air at times. Fred7 is gray inspite of two baths. People stare at Fred in amazement—the young are scared of him, the older heads seems to smile at him—but they don’t call him or pat him. We start Chinese lessons next week—We’ve gotten no mail and we miss you all a lot—Today we went to a little Church service in a run-down Bible Institute. 4 Chinese oldsters singing forth in Chinese as we 14 petitioners equally divided between African and European diplomats sang in English. Mum and I were both choked up—here we were worshipping in a land where this kind of worship is all but forbidden. They permit services but in a very limited way. Yesterday we went to Western Hills for a climb. It is very pretty there. In Chinese a big sign said “Don’t pick the red leaves” (bright fall colors) Yep, guessed it—all the kids were walking around with red leaves in their hands. There is no handholding in public—no heing and sheing in sight. Hap and Robin8 would have a rough go here if they were Chinese. The weather, except for the dust, has been beautiful—warmish fall weather. I’ve played tennis once—The Int’l club has a bunch of poorly surfaced courts, tho they are resurfacing the 2 indoor courts with a red concrete which will be pretty nice to have. The Club for diplomats and some Chinese is very spacious, is a few blocks (easy cycle) from our house. It has billiards, [ping] pong, outdoor basketball etc. A haircut costs 30 cents. Some things here are very expensive—some quite cheap/A lot of things that we take for granted at home you just can’t get; but there are no hardships in this direction. I feel cutoff from the day to day news. Our short wave works pretty well so we get a good 7 a.m. news report but it is just the highlights. Very few dogs around here—great bunch of USLO9 staff—A pace in my life less hectic than I have known in many many years, but still plenty to do. I haven’t gotten a phone call in a week—imagine that! I jog every a.m. at 6:30 with Fred—1 mile—I hate it. I also do sit-ups. Everything gets pretty dirty in the house though it is kept up very well. Soon it will get really really cold. I hear there are two really cheap round trip fares out here—Air France and Air (Pakistan) have trips US-Peking for less than $1000. Mum just called wanting me to go to the Friendship store (hooray my first phone call) . . . I have a nice Chrysler car and a good driver Mr. Kuo who speaks no English but is a great driver in horribly difficult circumstances. The difficulty comes from the cyclists. There are few cars around—lots of Army trucks etc. The People Liberation Army [PLA] guard our gate—nice looking young men. Yes Doro they have women in the PLA too but they don’t guard the gate. I have made a lot of calls on other Ambassadors and Chinese officials but the latter calls are formalities pretty much. We are permitted to travel in China and we will do so a lot. The Chinese have been most hospitable in the sense of politeness and trying to provide us with certain courtesies.