After Sammy introduced us, Elvis pulled me aside. He wanted to discuss what I thought was an unlikely subject-the United States Army. Some years earlier he had served with the Third Armored Division in Germany for seventeen months. He wanted to share his thoughts about the armed forces and the pride he had in his service. Something of an admirer of Nixon, he was also interested in discussing the administration. Around that time, Presley had sent a letter to Nixon asking to help with the illegal narcotics trade. This led to the famous meeting between Elvis and the President in the Oval Office of the White House.

I imagine there weren't a lot of people in Elvis' normal circle with whom he could have a serious conversation about the military. I was impressed that years after his service he still cared so much about the Army. It certainly wasn't the sort of conversation I expected to have when I walked into his dressing room, but it was a welcome reminder that patriots can be found everywhere.*

During my tenure as director of OEO, we were successful in saving and strengthening some worthwhile programs by reallocating funds to them from less successful projects. We spun off functioning programs to other federal departments. We didn't perform miracles there, though I believe we did some good for the poor and for the country.

Even though many well-intentioned people at the agency worked hard to find solutions to the problems of poverty, easy answers were in short supply. During those tough times I could always count on Joyce to provide some good-humored perspective. She knew how often I would come home feeling disappointed that a program had not worked out better.

One night when I came home late, I went to the refrigerator and found a note taped to the door. Joyce had written, I am sure with a smile: "He tackled the job that couldn't be done; with a smile he went right to it. He tackled the job that couldn't be done-and couldn't do it."

CHAPTER 9

Counsellor.

After I left the Office of Economic Opportunity, Nixon appointed me Counsellor to the President, a general advisory position in the White House. I continued as a member of the cabinet, and I moved full time into an office in the West Wing. I began to see the President and his top aides far more regularly than I had while at OEO.

I soon noticed that Nixon liked to ruminate away from the Oval Office. He often took refuge in a separate private office in the Old Executive Office Building, the ma.s.sive nineteenth-century building adjacent to the White House. There he would meet with small groups of aides to talk about whatever might be on his mind. I would find him there dressed in a suit and tie, his feet up on a stool, the ever-present yellow pad in his lap, thinking his way through a problem.

In 1970, the country remained in turmoil. Tension over Vietnam remained high, and the situation flared in the spring after the so-called incursion into Cambodia-a phrase that seemed to conjure up a sightseeing visit more than the armed invasion it was. On May 4, students at Kent State University shut down the campus with a ma.s.sive demonstration protesting the administration's action in Cambodia, which students feared would widen and extend the war. In an attempt to control the chaos, Ohio National Guardsmen opened fire, killing four people and wounding others. The incident precipitated a nationwide student strike at more than four hundred colleges and universities-involving as many as four million students.1 Nixon, troubled by the ma.s.s demonstration, appeared at the Lincoln Memorial at an early-morning student protest and talked to a group of them who had made camp there. His visit was dismissed by a growing and vocal legion of critics, but I thought it demonstrated an interesting aspect of the President's character that he was willing to put himself in the middle of such a scene. Nixon, troubled by the ma.s.s demonstration, appeared at the Lincoln Memorial at an early-morning student protest and talked to a group of them who had made camp there. His visit was dismissed by a growing and vocal legion of critics, but I thought it demonstrated an interesting aspect of the President's character that he was willing to put himself in the middle of such a scene.

On May 15, protests at the historically black Jackson State University in Mississippi turned violent, and two more students were killed. Shortly after these shootings, Cheney (who continued to work as my a.s.sistant after I left OEO) and I traveled to Mississippi to get a sense of what might happen and to reach out to the families.2 We found a fluid, unstable situation-everyone was holding his breath waiting to see what might happen next. It was a tense moment, as the country watched Americans-young students and equally young National Guardsmen-turn on one another. The disorder continued across the country for many months, until campuses finally reopened that fall. We found a fluid, unstable situation-everyone was holding his breath waiting to see what might happen next. It was a tense moment, as the country watched Americans-young students and equally young National Guardsmen-turn on one another. The disorder continued across the country for many months, until campuses finally reopened that fall.

Members of Nixon's cabinet had their own personal experiences with young people expressing opposition to the war and wanting to be part of the so-called youth movement, which was characterized by wearing long hair, beads, and tie-dyed shirts. This provided a challenge for some parents in the cabinet, since most Sundays Nixon invited our families to the White House for a church service, and parents had to work overtime to make sure their children looked presentable enough to read scripture or shake hands with the President. Our own children were friends with some of the antiwar demonstrators, and it was not exactly easy for them to reveal that their dad worked for Richard Nixon in the White House. Valerie once told me that she was thinking of joining one of the demonstrations. "Okay, do it," I said bluntly, "if you believe in what you are saying." But I told her I didn't want her to join a protest simply because she wanted to be part of her crowd. She decided not to go.

Now that I was at the White House full-time, there was speculation in the press and elsewhere that I had moved into President Nixon's inner circle. That was an outsider's perspective. Inside the White House the situation was more complex. Nixon had more than one so-called inner circle-and he would swing back and forth among them, depending on his interests and moods. He also used the various circles for quite different purposes.

There was, of course, the well-publicized duo in the Nixon White House, consisting of Bob Haldeman and John Ehrlichman. They appealed to Nixon's political bent, his toughness, and his long-held resentment of those he called the Washington elites. Haldeman and Ehrlichman's German surnames led the press to dub them the Berlin Wall for their reputation as a united front protecting the President and, it was implied, keeping others out. My experience was that Haldeman and Ehrlichman had quite different personalities and working methods.

As chief of staff, Haldeman was the aide closest to the President. He was a trim man with a crew cut, brisk and methodical, but rarely unpleasant. I liked his meetings, because they tended to be substantive and efficient. I also had a reasonable certainty when I dealt with him that he was providing an accurate version of President Nixon's wishes and views, which made me comfortable with the guidance he offered. Because of his closeness to Nixon, Haldeman might have been the one person who could have stepped in and stopped Nixon's decisions regarding the management of the Watergate scandal. Nixon sometimes said things he hadn't thought through. What he needed was someone to talk him out of those thoughts. I suspect Haldeman's fault might have been in not insisting to his boss that he was wrong.

Ehrlichman was less pleasant to deal with. He seemed to have a high degree of certainty about his views that bordered on arrogance, a trait that did him no favors as he gathered more influence in the White House. Certainty without power can be interesting, and even amusing. Certainty with power can be dangerous. It was never clear to me whether Ehrlichman was basing his guidance to others on the President's views or his own. I did not follow his guidance without checking his suggestions out with others, and then only if I agreed with them.

One person who made his way through the Berlin Wall was Chuck Colson. He served as Nixon's special counsel and seemed to become increasingly close to him as the 1972 election approached. A former Marine, a troubleshooter, and a self-described hatchet man, Colson was bright and tough. The President boasted that Colson would do anything for him, including walk "right through doors."3 Nixon no doubt valued Colson's loyalty, but in my experience unquestioning obedience rarely serves a president well. Nixon no doubt valued Colson's loyalty, but in my experience unquestioning obedience rarely serves a president well.

There was another group-another so-called inner circle-in the White House that included former California lieutenant governor Bob Finch, Pat Moynihan, George Shultz, and me. We were what Bill Safire once described as "youngish intellectual types" who appealed to Nixon's inner policy wonk. Unlike members of the Haldeman group, each of us had backgrounds in elected office, government, or academia that predated the Nixon administration. We all respected the President, but none of us awoke every morning planning to bash through closed doors for Nixon's political purposes.

During his early years as president, Nixon tried to merge these two groups into meetings Haldeman called FRESH, const.i.tuting Finch, Rumsfeld, Ehrlichman, Shultz, and Harlow.4 We were an informal sounding board for Nixon on policy and political issues. It was an interesting opportunity to watch Nixon's mind at work. He was a strategic thinker, often looking two or three steps ahead of a given decision and always musing about and considering a full range of options. We were an informal sounding board for Nixon on policy and political issues. It was an interesting opportunity to watch Nixon's mind at work. He was a strategic thinker, often looking two or three steps ahead of a given decision and always musing about and considering a full range of options.

There were, of course, times that Nixon would rant about something that had angered him. He'd go on about members of the press or certain administration figures who weren't carrying the ball well enough. I wasn't surprised to learn that sometimes I was the subject of these harangues. Contrary to the impression from the secret Nixon tapes-and the occasional deleted expletives-I did not find the President anywhere near as profane as some portray him. As historian Stephen Ambrose noted, most of those expletives were milder words, like c.r.a.p and h.e.l.l and d.a.m.n.5 One of the things I took occasion to discuss with the President was the administration's outreach to minorities-a perennial problem for Republicans and something government needed to be attentive to if it hoped to be truly representative. Some people blamed the widening gap between minorities and the GOP on Nixon's Southern strategy, a political effort that sought to win the votes of Southern Democrats, many of whom tended to be unsympathetic to civil rights legislation. Whether the strategy was a good idea or not, the fact is that the Democratic Party had successfully engaged in exactly that sort of maneuvering for decades-these voters were called "Southern Democrats" for a reason.

While I did not favor racial quotas, I believed it was important for the administration to make a serious effort at diversity. In the Nixon administration there were too few individuals from minority groups involved in policy-making positions at a time when issues with significant racial ramifications-school desegregation, riots, inner-city school problems, and drugs-were front and center. I suggested that the White House form a group to monitor minority hiring, marshal aid to black colleges, and focus on other efforts in support of minorities-including speaking to minority organizations.

In making my case to the President, I cast it in political terms that I thought might appeal to him. Strained relations between the Nixon administration and minorities, I noted, were eroding support for his priorities, such as the economy and ending the war in Vietnam. "A critical factor in altering the present perception of the Administration is hiring," I suggested in one memo. "Minority groups will be far more likely to see the administration in a favorable light if they are in fact a part of it."6 As the tapes have revealed, Nixon occasionally made offensive remarks about minorities. I didn't know exactly how he felt, however, since my experience was that his comments seemed in part generational, and I found his actions regarding minorities were not consistent with his sometimes inappropriate words. Nixon generally seemed to agree with my arguments about minority outreach, and his administration made serious efforts in that regard, including the major effort on school desegregation and the successful work by Bob Brown, Nixon's White House lead on minority affairs.

President Nixon occasionally gave me a.s.signments that involved foreign policy, which he knew was among my interests. He also thought my having that exposure could be helpful if I sought a seat in the United States Senate-which was a frequent suggestion of his. He thought many Republicans in the Senate were weak-willed and poor advocates for his policies. He wanted people he considered his proteges to get to the Senate and "toughen them up." I tended to put off his suggestions that I run for a Senate seat in Illinois. But Nixon did persuade George H. W. Bush to run for a seat in Texas, a campaign Bush lost.

In September 1970, the President asked me to be a member of the U.S. delegation to the funeral of Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Na.s.ser. Na.s.ser, a close Soviet ally, was the beneficiary of millions of dollars in Soviet arms. As a result of our country's strained relations, no senior American foreign policy official was a.s.signed to the delegation.

The large population of Cairo had at least doubled for the funeral of their leader. Many delegations from around the globe gathered in a huge tent to await the official events. For hours, pa.s.sages from the Koran were broadcast over loudspeakers. Egyptian women on the mobbed streets wailed in a ritual chant. I left to see what was going on in the streets and ended up with the crushing mob of mourners following Na.s.ser's body across the Nile.

While in Cairo our group met with the then Vice President and acting President, Anwar Sadat. We were advised in our Department of State and intelligence briefings that Sadat was unremarkable and not likely to successfully succeed Na.s.ser as president. As it turned out, he proved to be a bold, courageous leader who successfully mended Egyptian relations with the West and moved the Soviet troops out of Egypt in short order.

In the spring of 1971, the President proposed that Bob Finch and I go to Europe and North Africa to discuss the growing illegal drug problem. As we prepared to leave, Nixon made an unexpected request. Stressing the need for the utmost secrecy, the President asked us to pa.s.s a message to a Romanian official that Nixon wanted to establish a channel of communications with the leadership of the People's Republic of China. We were to ask that Chinese leaders make contact with Nixon through Major General Vernon Walters, then the U.S. defense attache in Paris. It was an unusual request to make-and I didn't know if Secretary of State William Rogers was privy to it. But Nixon sometimes had people doing things in secret. As it happened, the Romanian official in question was traveling and we were not able to pa.s.s along the message. But Nixon had given us an early indication that he had decided to make a direct and bold overture to China.

It was during this period that I first worked with National Security Adviser Henry Kissinger. I was impressed with Kissinger's uncommon ability to arrange matters as he wanted them. Kissinger was not in anyone's circle within the White House and over time became a force unto himself. The conventional wisdom about the Nixon-Kissinger relationship was that they worked as equals, or even that Kissinger was the teacher and Nixon the student. Though Kissinger is now properly recognized as a critical figure in modern American foreign policy, he did not enter the Nixon administration with that same stature. Kissinger had come from an academic world of theoretical rather than practical experience. By contrast, Nixon had real-world experience and had been actively engaged with foreign leaders in scores of countries for decades. If anything, at the outset, Nixon was the professor and Kissinger the student, though an unquestionably brilliant one at that.

A problem that came up time and again was something I would become familiar with over the ensuing decades: the complicated relationships between the National Security Council, the State Department, and the Defense Department. Once at a cabinet meeting a discussion arose as to how State, Defense, and the NSC were working together. Kissinger, then serving as the National Security Adviser, scribbled a note and handed it to me with a smile. It said, "As a team of barracudas."7 Tensions appeared to come to a head in one meeting, when Kissinger expressed his concern that the State Department was doing things without coordinating them with the National Security Council, meaning him. Specifically, he believed that Secretary of State Rogers had communicated with the Soviet leadership without his knowledge. Haldeman, who was not intimidated by anyone, even the formidable Kissinger, responded that Kissinger had done the exact same thing when he met with Soviet amba.s.sador Anatoly Dobrynin without informing Rogers. Kissinger bristled at Haldeman's suggestion. He rumbled that he had only spoken to foreign officials outside of regular channels when the President directed him not to inform the State Department. He was, of course, ignoring the possibility that Rogers had also acted at Nixon's direction. In any event, Kissinger then stormed out of the room.8 Fifteen minutes later, Kissinger returned. He informed the group that Haldeman's comment was "inadmissible." Cryptically, he added that he was now reconsidering "the other matter" he had discussed with Haldeman. I later learned that the other matter Kissinger referred to was choosing between resigning from the faculty of Harvard to stay on in the Nixon administration-and losing tenure-or returning to academia. Kissinger, who at times used the threat of resigning as a bargaining chip, was suggesting that he might change his mind and return to Harvard unless Secretary Rogers stopped dealing with foreign governments without his knowledge.

Ultimately, Kissinger would replace William Rogers as secretary of state while retaining his position at the NSC. During the period when Henry wore both hats, all he had to do was talk to himself to ensure good communications between State and the NSC. But a president benefits from a range of viewpoints. I thought Kissinger was most effective, and President Nixon and the country better served, when he was filling a single post.

I preferred having more substantive responsibilities to functioning as a general adviser and troubleshooter in the White House. The President and I had several conversations during this period in which we discussed possible future a.s.signments for me, such as U.S. special trade representative, deputy secretary of state, and U.S. amba.s.sador to NATO. preferred having more substantive responsibilities to functioning as a general adviser and troubleshooter in the White House. The President and I had several conversations during this period in which we discussed possible future a.s.signments for me, such as U.S. special trade representative, deputy secretary of state, and U.S. amba.s.sador to NATO.9 He seemed to enjoy these discussions, which were an opportunity for him to be actively involved in mentoring younger members of his administration. He seemed to enjoy these discussions, which were an opportunity for him to be actively involved in mentoring younger members of his administration.

In fact, the President frequently considered staff shake-ups, possibly to make sure he always had fresh eyes looking at important issues-and also, I suspect, to keep people on their toes. It was something of a hobby for him-like a general war gaming moves on a map.

To this end, shortly after the 1970 midterm elections, the President called a small group to Key Biscayne for a day-long meeting.10 He was now looking ahead to his 1972 reelection campaign and told us he wanted to make some personnel changes in the administration. He mused aloud about all sorts of possibilities. As the meeting went on, I stepped out to the men's room. When I returned, the President looked at me. He was now looking ahead to his 1972 reelection campaign and told us he wanted to make some personnel changes in the administration. He mused aloud about all sorts of possibilities. As the meeting went on, I stepped out to the men's room. When I returned, the President looked at me.

"Don, we're going to make Rogers Morton Secretary of the Interior and make you Secretary of Housing and Urban Development," Nixon said matter-of-factly. He was going to fire the current secretary of HUD, former Michigan governor George Romney. Another former governor in his cabinet, Walter Hickel, Secretary of the Interior, was going to be fired as well.

I looked around the room. The idea of my going to HUD apparently was fine by everyone else. I wondered what had happened in my absence to lead to this strange idea. I said I'd have to think about it, knowing that as a congressman I had voted against making Housing and Urban Development a cabinet-level post.11 A day or so later, I talked to Attorney General John Mitch.e.l.l and told him my views. I said I thought it was unwise for the President to replace two former governors in his cabinet at the same time. I pointed out that Romney, for one, came from the key state of Michigan. As it turned out, Nixon had a b.u.mpy time in the press when he announced his planned dismissal of Hickel at Interior. Fortunately, knowing he would get still more flak if he fired Romney, the Hickel b.u.mps reinforced my arguments and ended the President's idea of my going to HUD.

With the 1972 presidential campaign in mind, Nixon soon had another thought for me. He suggested that I become chairman of the Committee to Reelect the President, which had the unfortunate acronym of CREEP. Running Nixon's reelection campaign might have seemed like a prestigious a.s.signment at the time, but I had no desire to be a full-time political operative.

I tried to turn the President down in a lighthearted way. "Mr. President," I said with a laugh, "I'm pretty sure you're going to run your campaign, and to the extent you don't have the time, John Mitch.e.l.l will run it, and to the extent he doesn't, Bob Haldeman will. So you certainly don't need me at that post. The organ-grinders will all be in the White House." I didn't have any desire to be the trained monkey.

Nixon smiled. "Well, let's think about it some more," he said. For whatever reason, that idea too was dropped.

Later the President raised the idea of my becoming chair of the Republican National Committee. I felt once again that it would be Nixon, Mitch.e.l.l, and Haldeman who would be calling the shots, and that whoever was at the RNC would be little more than an adornment. It was not the job for me.

I was well aware that repeatedly saying no to a president posed risks, risks that increased each time I did it. My pattern of turning down job offers did not seem to please Haldeman or Ehrlichman. I'm sure they began to think that I wasn't a team player. And I suspected that Nixon probably was beginning to feel the same way.

As the 1972 election drew closer and politics took over, the group in the White House that Joyce and I were close to, the academics and policy-oriented people like Shultz and Moynihan, became less involved than they had been at the beginning of Nixon's term. The other circle-Haldeman, Ehrlichman, and later, Colson-were the ones who seemed to have his ear and confidence.

In one sense, this was a natural development. The Haldeman group was attuned to Nixon's increased focus on his reelection. We were not. But the theory put forward by some, that this group unduly influenced the President by appealing to his resentments is inconsistent with my experience. Maybe it's because I was younger and he was the president of the United States, but I seldom observed Nixon being unduly influenced by anyone. He may have had his enablers, but Nixon seemed to me to be the one in the lead.

As the campaign proceeded, I did sense a change in mood at the White House, and not for the better. At the end of one meeting I watched the President walk off with Haldeman and Colson. There was nothing particularly unusual about that, since they were frequently together. But for some reason I was increasingly uncomfortable with what was going on at the White House. Something didn't feel right.

By the early 1970s the rate of inflation, though not high by historical standards, was a growing political issue. As was typical in Washington, there was pressure on politicians to do something, if for no other reason than to demonstrate the government's concern about a problem. The Democratic majority in Congress came up with a solution that seemed politically attractive but was unwise: They pa.s.sed legislation giving the president the power to impose wage and price controls on the country.

My suspicion was that Congress pa.s.sed the legislation never imagining that President Nixon would actually use the power, but rather to put him on the spot politically, and to demonstrate that the Congress was doing something about inflation. The Democrats hadn't counted on John Connally, the charismatic former governor of Texas. Connally was well-known for having been hit by one of the bullets fired at President Kennedy by Lee Harvey Oswald. A Democrat who switched to the Republican Party in 1973, he was a prominent, if not dominant, figure in the Nixon cabinet. n.o.body seemed to have the effect on Nixon that Connally did. Indeed, the President appeared to hang on his every word.

Connally, a protege of LBJ's, liked big, bold action. When wage and price control legislation first came up, Connally's staff at Treasury drafted a memo urging the President to veto it on philosophical grounds. "Why are we doing this?" Connally demanded, when he saw their memo. "If a legislature wants to give you a new power-you take it. Put it in the corner, like an old shotgun. You never know when you might need it."12 Six months later, to almost everyone's amazement-and certainly to mine-Connally had successfully persuaded Nixon to grab that old shotgun and pull the trigger. The dollar was weak, inflation seemed to be getting worse, and Connally recommended presidential action.

In August 1971, the President held a confidential meeting with his economic team at Camp David. Nixon had long blamed an economic downturn for his narrow loss to Kennedy in 1960. Now that he was president, he was determined to not have the economy ruin his chances for reelection. At the meeting, the President agreed to the approach recommended by Connally.

Nixon demanded absolute secrecy about his decision until he was ready to unveil it. In the first phase of the program, Nixon planned to announce a ninety-day freeze on wages and prices in the United States. He also would sign an executive order to create an economic stabilization program, a pay board, a price commission, a health advisory board, a rent-control board, and various other new government ent.i.ties.13 All of them would be overseen by the Cost of Living Council, to be chaired by Secretary of the Treasury Connally, which would include most of the nonnational security members of the President's cabinet. All of them would be overseen by the Cost of Living Council, to be chaired by Secretary of the Treasury Connally, which would include most of the nonnational security members of the President's cabinet.14 In my view, imposing wage and price controls may have been politically expedient, but it was probably the worst policy decision the administration made. I thought the proposal would subvert the free market's ability to allow consumers and producers across the United States to determine prices based on the laws of supply and demand. This couldn't be done by any centralized planning or planner, no matter how brilliant.15 The President needed a director for the Cost of Living Council (CLC) to administer what was called "Phase Two" of the program. Nixon, with the advice of Shultz, decided I was the man for the job. I'd told him I wanted to be involved in policy, and this was clearly a policy position. It just happened to be one I did not agree with. George Shultz, who had moved from being Secretary of Labor to director of the Office of Management and Budget, informed me of the President's decision. He urged me to accept the post.

"I don't believe in wage and price controls," I told him.

"I know," he said. "That's why you need to do the job."

Shultz told me he wanted a director of the program who would work to make sure the new controls were temporary and did as little damage as possible.16 So for the second time in the Nixon administration, I agreed to take on a presidential a.s.signment that seemed like a no-win position, and which ran counter to my beliefs. So for the second time in the Nixon administration, I agreed to take on a presidential a.s.signment that seemed like a no-win position, and which ran counter to my beliefs.*

If the goal was to end wage and price controls as soon as possible, I saw a first step in that direction: the need to ensure that we did not hire a permanent staff that would want to perpetuate itself. Instead, I borrowed individuals from other departments and agencies-called detailees-particularly individuals who understood the dangers of wage-price controls, and who could be sent back to their home departments with the stroke of my pen.

Second, I emphasized from the outset that Congress pa.s.sed the Economic Stabilization Act for the sole purpose of dealing with inflation. Not only did I believe that such an intrusion by the federal government would undermine the free market system, I feared that it presented government officials with the almost irresistible temptation to use that power for political ends.17 Some wanted the controls to be used to break labor unions. Others wanted them to be used to strengthen unions. I ruled out all of those ideas immediately. Furthermore, I insisted that we would not use these new statutory powers to favor or punish any given const.i.tuency for political gain. Some wanted the controls to be used to break labor unions. Others wanted them to be used to strengthen unions. I ruled out all of those ideas immediately. Furthermore, I insisted that we would not use these new statutory powers to favor or punish any given const.i.tuency for political gain.

We established a tiered system based on the size of the companies to be regulated. We freed smaller companies from the controls, placed only modest reporting requirements on medium-sized companies, and focused on the larger companies that could better handle the burdens. They had the resources of large law, accounting, and lobbying firms to effectively deal with the federal government.

Our nonpolitical, nonpartisan approach to the work of the cost of living program did not sit well with everyone. The different interpretations of how the powers of the CLC should be used led to some difficult encounters. Joyce could often tell who was on the other end of the phone based on how much colorful language I used. When Ehrlichman called, he would rail against the decisions of various ent.i.ties that made up the Economic Stabilization Program. I had to explain repeatedly that once the President gave them the powers to make decisions, we had little choice but to live with them.18 From the outset, I was deeply concerned that the CLC would be tarnished with allegations of political favoritism and corruption. As a result, we spent a great deal of effort trying to make sure that that did not happen. During the time that I was director of the Cost of Living Council, to my knowledge there was only one accusation that a staff member might have a conflict of interest. When I heard about it, I sent it straight to the Justice Department, where it was promptly found to be groundless. In a presidential election year-especially in the Nixon administration that particular election year-I considered it an amazing, indeed an almost unbelievable, accomplishment that there was not one instance of wrongdoing. Public officials generally don't get credit or awards for avoiding potholes, but our group at CLC deserved an award for the many bad things that did not happen on our watch.

A consequence of my service as director of the CLC was that it put still further distance between Nixon's closest political aides and me. Not being deeply involved in the 1972 campaign, however, turned out to be a considerably bigger blessing than I could possibly have imagined.

As the election year heated up, Nixon was heading toward what some political experts said would be a close reelection fight. During much of the prior year, Nixon's job approval rating had hovered at just under 50 percent in the Gallup polls. While I personally liked the eventual Democratic nominee, South Dakota Senator George McGovern, I did not believe he would be a strong candidate for president. I came to know him while I was serving in Congress. He was to the left of the country, and his platform seemed weak. But McGovern did have an advantage, the same advantage Kennedy and Humphrey had had in Nixon's previous contests: He projected warmth.

I wrote a memo for the President, noting that McGovern's "warmth, concern, and decency are appealing." I suggested that the administration seek opportunities to highlight Nixon's interest in the problems of ordinary Americans. I believed Nixon did care about improving people's quality of life but that he just preferred to view and discuss things in theoretical, rather than personal, terms. That didn't always come across positively in that new media age. "A danger for our administration is that in its competence we seem harsh, in our strength we seem tough, in our pragmatism we seem goal-less and ideal-less." Finally, I offered a warning, perhaps reflecting concerns I was starting to have about operations at the White House. "The campaign," I wrote, "must scrupulously avoid going 'over the line.'"19 Even if anyone had listened to that advice, it came a bit late. On June 19, 1972, three days after I sent that memo to the President, the Washington Post Washington Post published a front-page news story with a headline: " published a front-page news story with a headline: "GOP SECURITY AIDE AMONG FIVE ARRESTED IN BUGGING AFFAIR."20 The story linked an attempt to place listening devices at the Democratic National Committee headquarters in the Watergate Hotel to an aide at the Committee to Reelect the President. The story linked an attempt to place listening devices at the Democratic National Committee headquarters in the Watergate Hotel to an aide at the Committee to Reelect the President.21 I attended the regular White House senior staff meeting in the Roosevelt Room that morning.* Several expressed curiosity about the piece in the Several expressed curiosity about the piece in the Post. Post. There were differing ideas as to how to deal with the article. Some wanted to confront it as a news story that needed to be managed-in other words, as a public relations problem. My instinct was to get to the root of what had happened and get the situation resolved. Years later, Chuck Colson recalled my comment in the meeting: "If any jacka.s.s across the street [at campaign headquarters] or here [in the White House] had anything to do with this, he should be hung up by his thumbs today. We'd better not have anything to do with this. It will kill us.'" There were differing ideas as to how to deal with the article. Some wanted to confront it as a news story that needed to be managed-in other words, as a public relations problem. My instinct was to get to the root of what had happened and get the situation resolved. Years later, Chuck Colson recalled my comment in the meeting: "If any jacka.s.s across the street [at campaign headquarters] or here [in the White House] had anything to do with this, he should be hung up by his thumbs today. We'd better not have anything to do with this. It will kill us.'"22 I don't remember if that was precisely what I said, but if anything that was an understated version of my thinking. I don't remember if that was precisely what I said, but if anything that was an understated version of my thinking.

Despite the drumbeat of news stories that began to appear in the Post Post on that subject, the Watergate break-in was not uppermost in voters' minds during the 1972 presidential campaign. However, I did notice troubling signs when the Watergate matter came up in conversations. Joyce and I attended a meeting in the fifth-floor auditorium of the Old Executive Office Building for those Nixon had selected to serve as surrogate speakers for his campaign, including many from his cabinet and key members of Congress, such as Goldwater, as well as Joyce and some other cabinet wives. Ehrlichman offered the group what seemed to me to be tortured responses to some of the questions being raised in the newspapers about Watergate and the campaign. After the meeting I advised Joyce never to repeat Ehrlichman's recommended talking points, because I felt they did not have the ring of truth. Joyce had had the same reaction. on that subject, the Watergate break-in was not uppermost in voters' minds during the 1972 presidential campaign. However, I did notice troubling signs when the Watergate matter came up in conversations. Joyce and I attended a meeting in the fifth-floor auditorium of the Old Executive Office Building for those Nixon had selected to serve as surrogate speakers for his campaign, including many from his cabinet and key members of Congress, such as Goldwater, as well as Joyce and some other cabinet wives. Ehrlichman offered the group what seemed to me to be tortured responses to some of the questions being raised in the newspapers about Watergate and the campaign. After the meeting I advised Joyce never to repeat Ehrlichman's recommended talking points, because I felt they did not have the ring of truth. Joyce had had the same reaction.23

The Watergate issue proved little more than a nuisance in 1972. Concerns about a close election were misplaced. Nixon won in a landslide, losing only Ma.s.sachusetts and the District of Columbia. His stunning 23 point margin-60.7 percent to 37.5 percent-was one of the most decisive presidential victories in U.S. history. The President's reaction to his overwhelming victory was not what most people might have expected. It certainly wasn't what I expected.

The morning after his reelection, Nixon held a cabinet meeting. I a.s.sumed the purpose would be to thank everyone for their help in the campaign, and to talk a bit about his goals for his second term.24 The meeting started off well. Nixon walked into the White House cabinet room to an enthusiastic standing ovation. The President beamed and urged us to take our seats. But the applause continued. For a moment, as he soaked in our congratulations, Nixon paused and gripped the back of his chair in the middle of the large oval table.

Whatever celebratory emotions he may have felt at that moment quickly dissipated. He spoke with his usual precision. He did thank us all for our work, but then quickly moved on to abstract policy discussions. Referring to the most prominent campaign issue, the ongoing conflict in Vietnam, the President said that he had complete confidence that his administration would bring peace. "Richard Nixon doesn't shoot blanks," he said.25 He remarked at length on what he said was his favorite period of history, which oddly enough was the British parliamentary debates of the 1850s. He mentioned Winston Churchill's father. "He was a brilliant man," Nixon said, "whose career was ruined by syphilis."

He talked about the rival British prime ministers William Gladstone and Benjamin Disraeli. Gladstone was in office longer, Nixon observed, but Disraeli had a more brilliant record. The President informed us that Disraeli once described Gladstone's government as "an exhausted volcano." This was a roundabout way for Nixon to make what I took as his central point; namely, that some from his first-term administration were tired. This was a special problem, Nixon added, because second presidential terms usually did not measure up to first terms.26 Then, to his by now somewhat subdued audience, the President announced he was going to spend the next few weeks on what I knew was his favorite pastime-thinking about the role each of us would play, if any, in his second term. He said he did not want to be merciless, but that "the government needs an enema." The President then nodded to his chief of staff. "Bob will take over now," he said, looking at Haldeman.27 Nixon left the room to another, considerably more muted, round of applause. Nixon left the room to another, considerably more muted, round of applause.

After the President left, Haldeman rather abruptly announced that Nixon wanted everyone's resignation by the end of the week. He said this was customary in a second term, and that Nixon would be making decisions to accept or reject the resignations in the days ahead. He handed each of us an unsigned memo with the subject heading "Post-Election Activities." It was all very businesslike, as was Haldeman's way.

"While it is recognized that this period will necessarily be a time of some uncertainty," the memo stated, "this will be dispelled as quickly as possible." That was not a particularly comforting thought. Nor was what followed. "Between now and December 15, please plan on remaining on the job, finishing first-term work, collecting and depositing Presidential plans, and making plans for next term. This is not a vacation period."

We were asked to put together a book describing our current a.s.signments, and I sensed that we might well be writing job descriptions for the people replacing us. "This should be as comprehensive as possible," the memo instructed.28 All in all the meeting deflated the cabinet's enthusiasm for Nixon's impressive victory. Many of them had worked hard to support the President, and most had served as surrogate speakers. His behavior let down some and angered others. Most everything about it-the judgment it revealed, the timing, the tone-was insensitive and unwise.

Immediately after the meeting I told Haldeman he might want to be careful about asking for resignations from anyone at the Cost of Living Council, because almost none of us had wanted to be there in the first place. If we did submit our resignations, we would mean it, and the President would be faced with the problem of trying to manage the economic stabilization programs with a whole new team-if he could find people willing to do it. I added that he should also be aware that there may be situations like that elsewhere in the administration, where his broad, sweeping request for resignations could boomerang badly. Haldeman came back to me a few hours later, undoubtedly after talking to the President, and said he understood and retracted his earlier request, saying I should not ask for the resignations of those at the CLC.

President Nixon soon departed for Camp David to ponder the upcoming staff shake-ups that had been so indelicately telegraphed.* He had his key people with him-Haldeman and Ehrlichman, along with George Shultz-a rea.s.suring sign that Nixon still held Shultz in high esteem. Regrettably, if the President had listened to Shultz more often, and more closely, his second term might have been quite different. He had his key people with him-Haldeman and Ehrlichman, along with George Shultz-a rea.s.suring sign that Nixon still held Shultz in high esteem. Regrettably, if the President had listened to Shultz more often, and more closely, his second term might have been quite different.

I was ready to leave the administration and had been thinking of going to the private sector. I started consulting with friends back in Chicago about what I might do, and I told Shultz my intentions. As I was deliberating, the President asked me to come to Camp David to meet with him before I made any firm decisions. So in late November 1972, I went up by helicopter, flying north along the Potomac River to the Catoctin Mountain of Maryland, with no idea of what might result from my visit. I met first alone with Shultz and Ehrlichman to give them my thoughts. Then we joined the President in his office for about an hour.

Nixon quickly went to business. He again urged me to run for the U.S. Senate seat from Illinois. He told me he would endorse me for the GOP nomination in 1974, even in a crowded primary. Running for the Senate still didn't feel right to me. I had come to understand that I would prefer an executive position more than a legislative role, having by then served in both.

On several occasions, President Nixon and I had talked about the possibility of a foreign policy post. At this meeting, Nixon told me he was going to appoint Elliot Richardson as Secretary of Defense, and that Pete Peterson, the Secretary of Commerce, would probably go to NATO as the U.S. amba.s.sador. As a result, I a.s.sumed that the NATO position, which Nixon had discussed with me previously, was out. That had all but decided it for me, since I knew I did not want to remain in the White House.

The President understood that I was starting to move on to other plans. "Don, we will find the right spot," Nixon a.s.sured me as the meeting drew to a close. "To use the chess a.n.a.logy, I want you to know that you are not a p.a.w.n."30 A few days later, the Peterson nomination was scratched, and the President informed me he wanted to nominate me to serve as U.S. amba.s.sador to NATO after all. While I knew he had reservations about the way the NATO alliance was functioning, and that Europe hadn't exactly been at the epicenter of his foreign policy in his first term, the President spoke positively of NATO as a good place for me. In one conversation he said that NATO was more interesting and substantive than other amba.s.sadorial posts because it dealt with many countries rather than just one.31 Because of NATO's collective security approach-an attack on one member nation was to be considered an attack against all-the alliance had served as an effective deterrent against the Soviet Union. As such, the NATO headquarters in Brussels tended to be a prestigious destination for Europe's most seasoned diplomats. I told the President I would be pleased to be nominated for the post.

The a.s.signment had two important attractions: First it was an opportunity to serve in a new field, and to learn, which I had always enjoyed. Second, I would be out of the White House. My preference to be out of Washington seemed counterintuitive to some. After the public announcement on December 2, 1972, Washington Post Washington Post reporter David Broder wrote: "Much of official Washington was surprised" by my selection. reporter David Broder wrote: "Much of official Washington was surprised" by my selection.32 It was true enough that a former congressman from the Midwest who had primarily worked on domestic and economic policy issues might not have been the obvious choice for NATO amba.s.sador. It was true enough that a former congressman from the Midwest who had primarily worked on domestic and economic policy issues might not have been the obvious choice for NATO amba.s.sador.

Others in town, who measured people's power solely in terms of their proximity to the Oval Office, thought I had ruined my career by leaving for Europe right after President Nixon's landslide reelection victory. They could not see why anyone would voluntarily leave the cabinet and the White House-the seat of world power-to move so far from what they believed to be the center of the universe. But I had worked in two administration posts for close to four years. I had served in the White House and the cabinet, and I was uncomfortable with the thought of staying. I knew the White House was no longer the place for me.

CHAPTER 10

NATO and Nixon's Fall.

As much as he appreciated the symbolic importance of NATO, Nixon found the alliance frustrating. It operated by consensus-requiring unanimity in any major decision-and Nixon didn't have a great deal of patience for policy making by committee. Unanimity is hard to achieve in any organization, and it was not easy with a group of the most respected diplomats from fourteen other nations operating on instructions from their capitals, each with different country histories, needs, cultures, and languages, not to mention lingering animosities toward one another after two world wars.

The move to Brussels, Belgium, where NATO is headquartered, turned out to be a treasured experience for our family. But first we had to overcome some initial qualms. Our oldest child, Valerie, was sixteen and had been looking forward to learning how to drive. In Belgium, driver's licenses weren't available until the age of eighteen. So before we left, a friend volunteered to teach her the basics. In our old car with the k.n.o.b on the floor stick shift missing, Richard B. Cheney kindly and skillfully moonlighted as Valerie's driving instructor in parallel parking.