True Faith and Allegiance

by Alberto R. Gonzales

  I also hired Brett Kavanaugh, an outstanding attorney who had worked for independent counsel Ken Starr and had clerked for US Supreme Court justice Anthony Kennedy. Brad Berenson, another former clerk for Justice Kennedy and a partner at Sidley & Austin, also joined our team. Courtney Elwood had been an attorney with Kellogg Huber and was a former clerk for US Supreme Court chief justice William Rehnquist. Noel Francisco was an associate with Cooper Carvin and had clerked for US Supreme Court justice Antonin Scalia. Helgi Walker was the senior legal advisor and chief of staff to commissioner Harold Furchtgolt-Roth of the Federal Communications Commission, and had clerked for US Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas. Stuart Bowen was a former deputy counsel to Governor Bush and the first lawyer I had hired in the governor’s office. Rachel Brand was a former associate with Cooper Carvin, who would go on to clerk for Justice Kennedy. Chris Bartolomucci was the former counsel for the Senate Whitewater investigation committee and was a former partner at Hogan & Hartson. Robert Cobb was the ethics advisor, and John Bellinger was the principal National Security Council legal advisor, a dual-hatted and key assistant to both Condoleezza Rice and me. The lawyers I had assembled were smart, tough, and loyal to the president and to me, with a clear understanding that our first true allegiance was to the United States Constitution, after which our top priority was protection of the constitutional prerogatives of the presidency.

  In addition to this remarkable array of talent—a group that many legal eagles in Washington referred to as the “Dream Team” of lawyers—David Addington also sat in on many of the meetings held in my office, offering strong opinions that I knew reflected the views of his boss. We met every morning at 8:15 a.m. to discuss assignments, priorities, and pending deadlines. In a room filled with overachievers, there was never a dull moment, with plenty of good-natured banter about one another’s performances, opinions, and politics.

  As my legal team came together, I increasingly assumed more responsibility from Fred Fielding for the legal issues during the transition. Much of the transition planning occurred in meetings with the vice president-elect Dick Cheney and other senior staff. I made only one visit to the White House to meet with President Clinton’s counsel. It was a brief meeting that offered little insight into the job. Nevertheless, I quickly grew comfortable with my role, thanks to some excellent advice I received from former White House counsels from both parties, including Lloyd Cutler, A. B. Culvahouse, Boyden Gray, and my new friend Fred Fielding. All were gracious with their tips and helped reduce my learning curve. On one point, all of the former counsels concurred. “This job will be the most difficult and the most rewarding of your career,” they said. They also agreed that there was nothing they could say that could adequately prepare me for the enormous responsibilities and the wide-ranging issues I was sure to encounter.

  I never could have imagined how correct these advisors would be.

  Inauguration week began for me on January 17, 2001, when my wife and three sons arrived in Washington. Although our younger sons, Graham and Gabriel, seemed excited about the events, I wasn’t sure how much they truly understood about their daddy going to work in the White House, or how much their lives were bound to change. None of us did.

  Washington buzzed with excitement as Republicans from all over the nation—including an especially enthusiastic bunch from Texas—descended on the city, swamping the hotels and restaurants and having a good time. Those of us involved in the presidential transition, however, continued to prepare for the transfer of power. On January 17, 2001, we had our last transition meeting with Vice President-elect Cheney. The following day, we began our senior staff meeting at 7:30 a.m., as we would every work day after George W. Bush took office. Unlike President Clinton, Bush was known for his punctuality. Meetings always began on time and often ended early.

  Even before we officially got rolling, meetings dominated my day. On Friday, January 19, the day before the transfer of power, I completed a series of meetings and interviews with Ted Olson as solicitor general and John Manning and Doug Cox for the position of assistant attorney general for the Office of Legal Counsel.

  At 3:45 p.m., I attended a meeting at Blair House, the elegant, official presidential guest house located across the street from the White House. At the meeting were President-elect Bush, Josh Bolten, Vance McMahon, John Bridgeland, Harriet Miers, Karl Rove, and Gary Edson. I had only visited with Bush a few times during the transition, so I was interested to see how he was faring through it all. In less than twenty-four hours he would be the leader of the free world, yet he seemed remarkably relaxed and calm.

  I reported on some of the memos our office was preparing, and we agreed to meet immediately after he took office to discuss the matter of presidential succession in the case of emergency or vacancy.

  The night before the inauguration, Becky and I, along with our family, attended a number of inaugural events including a candlelight dinner billed as a black-tie and boots gala appropriate for Texans in the mood to celebrate. That same evening, we attended the Hispanic Presidential Inauguration Gala. I was weary from working all day and drained from doing interviews with various media, but how often do you get to experience presidential inauguration activities from the perspective of an insider? We wanted to experience it all, everything we possibly could squeeze into our inaugural week schedule. As a senior member of the incoming Bush administration, I also felt an obligation to attend as many functions as possible to meet the president-elect’s friends and supporters. Moreover, as the most senior Hispanic White House appointee, I sincerely wanted to represent our heritage at these historic events. So, weary or not, Becky and I dressed to the nines and went out to party.

  Inauguration Day, January 20, 2001, dawned as another wintry cold, wet, downright miserable day weather-wise, but nothing could dampen my excitement and pride. For the midday ceremony, Becky and I sat in the VIP section with members of the Bush family, friends, and cabinet members, each strategically positioned on the platform temporarily located on the Capitol steps. Although the drizzle was incessant, the temperatures were in the low twenties, and we wore ponchos to keep dry, we were witnesses to history—and we loved it.

  As I sat among that distinguished group and watched my friend take the oath of office as the forty-third president of the United States, I thought about my mom and dad picking cotton in West Texas. I thought about my brothers and me playing baseball in our backyard. I thought about selling the trays of Cokes and Sprites at Rice University football games. I thought about my decision to risk leaving my old law firm and go to work for Governor Bush. As I sat watching history unfold before my eyes, even in the cold, misty weather, I thought back to the promise by Governor-elect Bush that he would make it worth my while. He was right. I thought, It has been worth it all! And I thought about how much I genuinely loved America.

  By now Becky was freezing, so after the ceremony we were happy to go inside the Capitol to a pre-inaugural parade reception. Later we settled into our seats on the reviewing stand along with the president and the First Lady and watched the inaugural parade coming up Pennsylvania Avenue. Occasionally I had to step out to field phone calls regarding some last-minute clearances for a couple of cabinet nominations. In the years to come, Becky would become quite accustomed to me getting up in the middle of an event or one of our boys’ soccer games to take a call related to work. My normal habit was to pace as I talked, and then when the call was complete, I would return and act as though nothing had happened and that I hadn’t missed a thing. Of course, I missed a lot.

  That evening, Becky and I got dressed up again and attended the Texas-Wyoming Ball, followed by the Fiesta Americana Inaugural Ball. As the night grew late, the events filled with happy revelers seemed to blur together, and we finally returned to our hotel room at the Westin exhausted but ecstatic. What a day—what a night—what a country!

  Andy Card had given instructions to the White House staff that we need not arrive at the office before noon the day follo
wing the inauguration. Nevertheless, I got up early and headed to the White House to scout out our space in the West Wing, as well as the offices in the Old Executive Office Building (OEOB) next door to the White House, where a number of my lawyers and staff members would be located. I showed my new White House photo identification card, and the guard waved me into the complex. Security was daunting and impressive, but nothing like it would be nine months later. I drove past several heavy steel gates and showed my ID again at each one.

  I parked on West Executive Drive and entered the White House through the basement door, where a guard at the desk checked my ID again and then helped me find my office, situated in the southwest corner on the second floor of the West Wing. Traditions are highly respected in Washington, and my office was the one traditionally assigned to the president’s counsel; it was the same office that Fred Fielding had occupied during his tenure with President Reagan.

  The office itself was fully paneled with dark wood and had several large windows, although a balcony, built in part to provide additional security, obscured my view of the South Lawn and to the west. The furniture in the room included a stand-up writing desk and a built-in desk against the wall. Adjacent to the counsel’s office suite was an embarrassingly small office for the deputy counsel, and an outer lobby area where we stationed three assistants. The remainder of my staff would work out of a group of large offices in the massive OEOB, overlooking Seventeenth Street to the west of the White House. Many of the offices in the OEOB contained fireplaces and were huge compared to the older, smaller West Wing offices, where space was at a premium.

  When I arrived at the White House, cleaning crews were still hard at work cleaning up debris left over by the Clinton White House. Tech crews were installing new computers, phones, and communications equipment, and other crews were changing out furniture.

  The sights that I first encountered were surprising. Although the cleanup crews had begun working the day before, immediately after the Clinton crew moved out, the place was still a mess. I was surprised at how much debris was strewn around the offices, especially those in the Old Executive Office Building. More surprises abounded, including the discovery of trashed offices in the White House and keyboards with the W scratched off, apparently a childish insult perpetrated by outgoing Clinton/Gore personnel.

  The clutter and debris was so bad most of my staff of lawyers could not even work in their offices that first day on the job. Undoubtedly, part of the mess was the result of normal wear and tear, and the type of clutter that might occur when hundreds of people leave an area all at once. Additionally, there was furniture stacked upon furniture, perhaps because it had taken so much extra time for the moving men to do their work, making it even more difficult for a bunch of lawyers to negotiate the territory strewn with junk. Nevertheless, I was truly surprised to see the mess that morning.

  At two o’clock, the White House opened to family and friends for informal tours. It was a fun, festive, and inspiring afternoon, although we took special pains to prevent visitors from seeing the still disheveled OEOB. When the tours were completed, Andy Card led a short senior staff meeting. Tomorrow was our first full day of work, and we were already expected to be ready to roll.

  On Monday, January 22, all staff members and commissioned officers were sworn in during a ceremony in the East Room. Immediate family members were able to attend. In a simple, down-to-earth talk—it really couldn’t be called a speech—the new president asked all of us to maintain the highest standards of ethics, and to serve the American people with respect and humility. He noted, “I want it said of us at the end of our service that promises made were promises kept. On a mantelpiece in this great house is inscribed the prayer of John Adams, that only the wise and honest may rule under this roof. He was speaking of those who live here, but wisdom and honesty are also required of those who work here. I know each of you is capable of meeting that charge.”

  Following the ceremony, I said good-bye to Becky and the boys, and they headed back to Austin. I wouldn’t see the boys on a regular basis again until summer.

  CHAPTER 14

  THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

  With the festivities now concluded, and my family safely on their way home, I went back to work, ready to focus fully on the tasks ahead. My responsibilities as counsel entailed a unique combination of law, policy, and politics. One of the first issues with which I needed to speak with President Bush was an awkward one—the matter of succession, reviewing the Twenty-Fifth Amendment to the Constitution, the plan for what must happen should the president become physically or mentally incapacitated, or otherwise unable to discharge the duties of his office. This concerns more than life or death situations; it also pertains to a potential sickness or medical operation in which the president is in a coma or under anesthesia for a period of time.

  Adding to the seriousness of our discussion was the fact that Vice President Cheney had a history of heart problems. He had experienced an incident as recently as November during the Florida recount, in which he was rushed to George Washington University Hospital, seven blocks from the White House, where doctors inserted a stent into one of the vice president’s arteries that was 90 percent blocked.1 So as uncomfortable as it was talking about such matters, we all had to be on the same page should something happen that would result in the president being unable to discharge his duties. We also had to ask, “What happens if the vice president becomes ill or incapacitated and can no longer perform his duties? Who should be notified and what steps should be taken to make sure the United States government is not decapitated and left devoid of leadership in case of an attack or some natural disaster?”

  My legal team and I were immediately immersed in a wide variety of issues, everything from requests for clemency to reviewing presidential pardons. President Clinton had granted more than one hundred pardons in the final days and hours before he left the White House. Included was a last-minute pardon for Marc Rich, still an at-large fugitive who had been indicted for tax evasion and illegal dealings with Iran; as well as pardons for Roger Clinton, the president’s brother, and Susan McDougal, notorious for her associations with the Whitewater scandal.

  We also had to make immediate decisions regarding the current ninety-three US attorneys. When President Clinton took office, he fired all ninety-three US attorneys—which is a president’s prerogative to do for any reason other than to obstruct justice—but we felt the country would be better served by keeping all but twenty-nine of them in place for a while, and even giving those we would ask to leave a thirty-day notice. Rather than a massive upheaval, we decided we would replace others as their successors could be appointed. With the Republicans in power in the Senate, few people paid much attention to our decision regarding the US attorneys in 2001, but when we removed seven US attorneys at once six years later, with the Democrats wielding the reins of the Senate, I was criticized for playing politics and potentially interfering with ongoing investigations. This was just one of too many examples of hypocrisy in Washington that still amaze me to this day.

  President Bush informed me early in the transition that one of my most important responsibilities was to help identify and interview candidates for possible federal judicial appointments, as well as US attorneys and US marshals. In response, I chaired a White House group called the Judicial Selection Committee, which included the attorney general and senior members of his staff; Andy Card; Nick Calio or his representative from White House legislative affairs; Karl Rove; and my entire team of lawyers.

  We met every Wednesday at 4:00 p.m. in the Roosevelt Room and kept an ongoing list of potential appointments. When we were notified of a vacancy or an impending vacancy, our committee worked to find the right, qualified person to fill that spot. Recommendations might come from home-state senators, members of Congress, a governor, political groups, or interested citizens. Once the committee had at least three suitable candidates, we invited them to the White House for interviews. The person interviewed h
ad to pay his or her own expenses for these trips, but no candidate that I know of ever turned down the opportunity to interview in the West Wing for a federal position because of money.

  During the early months of the administration, I worked seven days a week, and some of these interviews often ran until 9:30 at night. In the office by 6:00 a.m., I worked such long days that the wisdom of keeping Becky and the boys in Austin until school dismissed for the summer was apparent. It was Jared’s senior year, Graham was in second grade, and Gabriel was in kindergarten. I knew the best decision was for them to stay in Austin, but I missed my family. Those feelings were exacerbated even more when Becky sent me a hand-drawing colored by Graham. On the paper, along with his tearstains, Graham had written, “Come home, Daddy.” Then, just to make sure I did not forget, Graham included our home phone number. I felt some tears in my eyes as well.

  On my first trip back to Austin, I went directly to Graham’s school and found him in the cafeteria. He spotted me and came running, practically leaping into my arms. “Daddy, I’m so glad you are home!” he said. I knew I’d only be home for the weekend, but I was glad to hug my son. I eventually framed Graham’s handwritten note, and I keep it in my office to this day.

  As I continued working to identify nominees, President Bush repeatedly encouraged me to find more qualified women and minority candidates. I knew diversity mattered a great deal to George W. Bush, and he wanted to see judges reflect the diversity of our nation, so I strove to comply with his request.