The Nixon Defense: What He Knew and When He Knew It

by John W. Dean

  April 25, 1973, the White House

  The president had had several unrecorded conversations with Henry Petersen while in Florida, and called him almost immediately after arriving in the Oval Office on Wednesday morning, April 25.107 After scheduling a meeting for later that afternoon, Nixon badgered Petersen about his prosecutors, who were tracking a leak of grand jury information. The president suggested this was another reason for Petersen to give lie-detector tests to the prosecutors. When Nixon brought up Magruder, Petersen replied that, while it still was not public, the secretary of commerce had accepted Magruder’s resignation effective Friday, April 27.

  After Steve Bull, who had taken over Haldeman’s scheduling duties, departed the Oval Office, the president spoke with Ziegler.108 Ziegler reported on his conversation with Bryce Harlow, who supported Haldeman’s and Ehrlichman’s departures. Nixon acknowledged that he was having trouble with them: “They’re never going to do it, they won’t resign. So let’s just see if we can get them to resign today. What would you do, tell them to resign?” Before Ziegler could answer, Nixon added, “Or would you say, ‘Alright, fellows, you’ve got a week?’ That’s about all you can do.” Ziegler passed over the question and reported“the Connally view and Harlow’s view is that the time to act is instant, and not in a panicky way and not in a the-presidency-is-crumbling-type of emotion.” Connally also thought the president should announce a reorganization when he moved on Haldeman and Ehrlichman.

  The two aides, however, persuaded Nixon to allow their lawyers to make the case for why they should not resign, and Nixon met for almost an hour and a half with John Wilson and Frank Strickler in the Oval Office that morning.109 Claiming they were “much better informed about things than they were the other night,” the lawyers focused on the troubling area for both their clients—namely, the payment of money to the Watergate defendants. (Clearly, however, the president was better informed than Wilson and Strickler.) Wilson then briefed the president on what they believed was the applicable law, the obstruction of justice statutes, 18 USC §§ 1503 and 1510, which they paraphrased for the president, and whose requisite state-of-mind requirement they clearly did not appear to fully understand.110 Wilson did mention the law regarding conspiracy, which would instead become the core case against all the Watergate actors involved in the cover-up, but instead briskly dismissed it: “But I do not think that these men criminally breached these statutes,” and this was true “even if you make this a shotgun [i.e., broad] conspiracy.”

  After arguing that his clients had not violated the law, Wilson said he wanted to “drop my role as an advocate for a moment and be a recommender—may I be permitted to suggest certain things?” Nixon encouraged him to proceed. Wilson wanted the president to have Petersen state in writing exactly how his clients had violated the law. (Needless to say, such a document would have been uniquely valuable, not to mention unprecedented.) Although Wilson did not dwell on this, he assured the president he was not asking for anything improper. He mentioned that they had run into Glanzer at the federal courthouse: “Glanzer is destroyed. He’s always tense. He looks terrible. He looks like he’s been through a bad illness. I said to him, ‘Seymour, your hair has turned gray.’ He said, ‘Well, they haven’t found us a leaker yet.’” While Wilson solicited information from Glanzer, he got little, only an agreement that they would get an opportunity to bring their clients in informally.

  Wilson then turned to the reason for their visit: to argue why Haldeman and Ehrlichman should not be forced out of the White House. He went through his notes, and his seven points boiled down to: (1) If Haldeman and Ehrlichman departed, it “takes all of the White House cover away” and would embolden the prosecutors to go after them; (2) if should they be indicted it “would relate to acts which while in the White House [but] have no effect upon the presidency”; (3) in the present climate the press would place the worst connotation on their resignation; (4) if I resigned at the same time, it would “place all three in the same boat,” which would put an awful shadow “upon these boys”; (5) if they remained and were indicted, the president had already said that anyone who was indicted would have to leave; (6) to act now “simply helps nobody but the press, [which] will claim credit for driving you to it”; and (7) if they remained in the White House and were indicted, “we’re prepared to write you a very brief letter, as counsel to these two men,” stating that, based on the facts they had been given, “we do not believe they have committed a crime.” In fact, they would write that letter immediately, so the president could produce it and say he had it before they were indicted.

  The president, however, was not convinced by the lawyers’ arguments, and told them he was being advised the aides should leave by “hard-liners” such as John Connally. Much of the conversation that followed focused on how they might deal with me, if I testified or was given immunity. Their lawyers’ conclusion was that they would effectively have to destroy me, which understandably troubled the president, who feared that I might then strike at him. Strickler noted, “This is possible for a Judas to do.” Nixon explained that notwithstanding his recent statement on immunity, he had told Petersen that the decision on granting immunity was Petersen’s own. But the president agreed with these lawyers: “I would think that we’d really have to destroy [Dean] in the public mind.” Wilson added that, if I said anything untrue, I could be indicted for perjury.

  Returning to Henry Petersen, Wilson said, “I want to be sure that you understand we are not meaning to suggest anything improper with Petersen, as you’re Petersen’s boss. All you wanted to know is certain vital information affecting the office of the president, not with regard to the protection of individuals.” (Obviously they wanted the prosecutorial information for their clients Haldeman and Ehrlichman, since they did not represent the office of the president.) Again Wilson argued that Haldeman and Ehrlichman had to be treated differently from me, for as Wilson described me, I was “a self-confessed crook.” Not too subtly Wilson made it clear he wanted me fired, for it would start a necessary discrediting process and weaken any case against his clients. The president’s argument, for which these lawyers had no real answer, was that Republicans in Congress were now calling, and would continue to call, for Haldeman and Ehrlichman to resign. As this conversation wound down, Wilson took a few more shots at Henry Petersen, calling him “a dangerous man, and I think, if he’s your friend, he’s only your friend because he’s got his tail in a crack, and I’m afraid he’s your enemy. I don’t trust Petersen. I told you so the other night.”

  “Is his tail in a crack because he basically cooperated with Dean in the cover-up?” the president asked. “Yes, sir,” Wilson answered, and went on to explain why he was also less than happy that Mitchell had hired attorney Bill Hundley, a former Justice Department prosecutor and longtime friend of Petersen’s. He thought that Hundley and Mitchell would sway Petersen in an alliance against Ehrlichman. Wilson was also unhappy with my comment to Haldeman aide Larry Higby, whom I had told that Haldeman had made a mistake in having the same lawyer as Ehrlichman, for it had the appearance of being collusive. But Wilson told Nixon, “That’s the last thing that exists here, is collusion.” In fact, it was an accurate observation, but Nixon and Wilson agreed that I was “a very desperate man”—although neither had any actual information about what I was or was not doing.111 On the other hand, Wilson did like the fact that I told Higby that the president needed to be careful with Petersen to not get into a position of obstructing justice, and that Petersen was the president’s best counsel but not his friend. Wilson chose to interpret this as my sending threatening messages to the president. Strickler warned the president that the prosecutors would put pressure on me in an effort to “psych” me into giving false testimony against higher-ups.

  The conversation turned to Judge John Sirica, who Wilson reported was an old friend, as they had been in the prosecutor’s office together “almost forty years ago.” “I think, without boasting,” Wilson quickly added,
“that we could get rid of Sirica.” He explained that he was currently “representing Sirica in the Court of Appeals in the controversy over the district attorney. And if my man gets indicted, he can’t sit with me [as judge], because he goes around town telling everybody, ‘John Wilson’s my lawyer.’” When Wilson added, “I don’t know a more emphatic Republican than John,” Nixon countered that he felt that Sirica had “gone far beyond what he should have” in sentencing people like Liddy: “That’s just unconscionable.” Wilson observed, “He’s lost his head about the whole thing. [Still], I’m very fond of him personally,” and then he repeated, “We can get rid of him. We can get another judge here who will be—” “Worse,” Nixon interrupted, and everyone laughed. As Wilson continued to make his point that they could get Sirica off their case, the president got up from his chair and retrieved two small boxes of cufflinks with the presidential seal on them, which he gave to Wilson and Strickler as they departed this second and final meeting with the president. They had made their case, but they had not changed his mind: rather, they succeeded only in delaying the implementation of his decision.

  After the lawyers departed, the president went to his EOB office, where he was joined by Ron Ziegler.112 Ziegler wanted to clarify Connally’s recommendation on Haldeman and Ehrlichman, which was more nuanced that he had initially portrayed it. The president then asked Haldeman and Ehrlichman to come to his EOB office. They arrived at 11:06 A.M. for a conversation that lasted almost three hours, and in which Ehrlichman became increasingly confrontational.113 The conversation opened with Haldeman’s taking them all through his notes of his lengthy conversation with Connally, which was so nuanced that no one could disagree with any of his points, for Connally had managed to take all sides on the question of whether or not the president should force the resignations of his aides. Connally was, however, blunt about “moving Kleindienst out of the Justice Department” and getting “a new attorney general.” Nixon’s former treasury secretary also believed, as Haldeman reported, that “the money payoffs” to the defendants was “as big as the bugging” and “maybe bigger.” Connally was likewise concerned “about the stories of the feud between Ehrlichman and Mitchell, and that they’ve sworn vengeance on each other.” Nixon asked, “What about that?” and then quickly added, “I would agree there’s some truth in it. Not on your part, but Mitchell’s.” Ehrlichman assured the president that there was none on his part. The president mentioned a story by syndicated columnist Joe Alsop that alluded to the supposed feud, and Ehrlichman explained that when Mitchell was attorney general, he “got drunk at a party and fell on me in the presence of Kay Graham,” publisher of The Washington Post. Ehrlichman said Mitchell had been busy attacking Ehrlichman’s positions as “too liberal” and charging that he “was misadvising” the president, who should remove him from the White House. When they all agreed that he had lied at least once in the Watergate case (regarding meetings with Liddy), Ehrlichman asked the president, “Is Petersen telling you anything about Mitchell’s problems in New York with that grand jury?” in the Vesco case.114 When Nixon said not yet, Ehrlichman reported, “I understand they’re very close to indicting him for perjury.” Throughout the conversation Nixon alluded to his meeting with Wilson and Strickler and the fact that he liked the idea of the lawyers’ giving him a letter stating that they did not find the aides had any criminal liability.

  This long, rambling, highly repetitive rehashing of what they did and did not remember, coupled with their attacks on others with whom they were having problems, revealed that both Ehrlichman and Haldeman were in serious denial about their standing and fixated on rationalizations. Nixon, however, remained a realist. Although he was careful not to cross them, and conversationally agreed with them, he did pick up some new information and insight. For example, he certainly took note when Ehrlichman raised the prospect of his impeachment. Ehrlichman began by “spinning something out” for him: “I think it’s entirely conceivable that if Dean is totally out of control, and if matters are not handled adroitly, that you could get a resolution of impeachment.” The president, though a bit taken aback, agreed. Ehrlichman continued, “I don’t know if you’ve thought of this or not, but I got thinking about it last night. On the ground that you committed a crime and that there is no other legal process available to the United States people other than impeachment. Otherwise, you have immunity from prosecution. And so I think we have to think about that.” Ehrlichman suggested that the president needed to determine how great a threat I might be, although in Ehrlichman’s analysis, “what he has falls far short of any commission of a crime by you, so far as I know.”

  Ehrlichman had Nixon’s full attention as he proceeded, explaining that, in fact, he had no idea what we had discussed during the ten or twelve hours we talked in February and March. “But you get down to a point where you’ve got John Dean prancing in there and saying, ‘The president said this’ and ‘the president said that’ and having somebody in your behalf come back and say, ‘No, the president didn’t say that, and that’s ridiculous.’ So you get a kind of credibility thing.” Although, Ehrlichman said, he thought I had been “very busy dredging up corroborating evidence and looking for documentation or taking statements from people based on leads that may have developed from those conversations.” But Ehrlichman had a recommendation: “I think really the only way that I know to make a judgment on this is for you to listen to your tapes [the existence of which Haldeman had recently informed him, but apparently not that the system was still operating] and see what actually was said, or maybe for Bob to do it, or somebody. See what was said there. And then analyze how big a threat he is.”

  “Right,” Nixon agreed. Ehrlichman continued, “If it didn’t come out of those meetings, then I think it’s imaginary. Because it then does not come out of your mouth, it comes by reason of the actions or something that one of us said or did, and it can be handled. But if you’re really confronted with that kind of a dilemma, or that kind of crisis in this thing, I think, before any other steps are taken, any precipitous steps,” Ehrlichman told the president, “you better damn sure know what your hole card is.” Nixon agreed. “Beyond that,” Ehrlichman continued, “hell, I’m not afraid of Dean and what he might say about me, for instance. I think it can be handled. I don’t think Bob has anything to fear from Dean, basically, then, particularly based on what the attorneys tell us; he has an almost unlimited capacity to dredge up anecdotes from a dim and murky past, and we’re just going to have to handle it one by one. You mentioned the La Costa plan. Our fellows [i.e., their attorneys] probably didn’t tell you this, but Dick Moore’s attorney called John Wilson and indicated that Dick Moore just doesn’t have any memory at all about La Costa. He can barely remember even being out there.”

  “Dick Moore told me—” Nixon tried to explain what Moore had related, but Ehrlichman kept interrupting, saying, “I understand,” until Nixon did understand that Moore’s memory had gone from bad to none. Ehrlichman explained, “His memory is, apparently, feeble beyond measure, because his attorney has explained to him what his exposure is, and Dick is scared shitless, apparently. To the point where he has contacted Silbert to ascertain that he will not be indicted prior to his daughter’s wedding, so that he can go to his daughter’s wedding.”

  Notwithstanding the fact that Haldeman had agreed to listen to the March 21 conversation, which would confirm what was or was not said, they proceeded to speculate about the content of that discussion. Ehrlichman reminded the president that he had no exposure whatsoever on the Ellsberg break-in—or, as Ehrlichman described it, “the Hunt escapade on the coast”—as it had been totally outside the president’s knowledge and did not reach him. Ehrlichman reported, though, that he himself might have some culpability for the “Hunt escapade” after thinking about the fact that “it was a legitimate national security subject and that we are to stonewall it”; he was then no longer concerned.

  About halfway through this conversation, while discussing H
aldeman’s listening to the March 21 recorded conversation, Ehrlichman said that with that information they might “try and disarm” me, adding, “I’m morally certain he does not know that he is on tape.” This led Nixon to ask, “I wonder if he has a tape himself.” “That might be,” Ehrlichman replied.” Nixon then asked, “Is it possible that he carries a tape? Does he do that?” Nixon wondered if I carried it in my “hip or something,” but Ehrlichman was not concerned, because “those things almost always go haywire,” while Haldeman pointed out that I would have been recording “privileged communications.”

  Ehrlichman questioned if privilege remained in force if a crime was involved, and thought that might be why I was pushing for immunity. Haldeman shared a thought, based on a misunderstanding of how immunity worked, including the idea that it might enable me to use information I still had against them: “My argument would be that that’s the worst thing you can do, because that then puts you in as a permanent hostage the rest of your life to John Dean, and if you look beyond that to Henry Petersen, and beyond that probably to Silbert and Glanzer, and to the court reporters, and others.” Ehrlichman added my lawyers to the list of those who would hold them hostage. Haldeman agreed and concluded, “Really, your only real route is to destroy Dean.”