Texas Two-Step: Nixon nominates Connally as VP in 1973

[wolverinethad]

As Fred Buzhardt entered the hearing room for the House Judiciary Committee, the House staffers breathed a sigh of relief. There had been some concern that Buzhardt would try to invoke the lawyer-client privilege to avoid testifying. Buzhardt was never really the issue, though. That was the President. Richard Nixon, forever trying to evade any culpability for Watergate being pinned on him, spent his weekend scheming up ways that Buzhardt could be kept from testifying. That scheming, of course, meant that Buzhardt, Haig, and Connally spent their weekend with the President as well, who at least had the good grace to invite them down to Key Biscayne with him as opposed to staying in cold, snowy Washington. The foursome sat around a table by the swimming pool, the sea breezes washing over them. Saturday night found them drinking a gift that the Vice President had brought with him, a white whiskey from the Rio Brazos Valley, strong and pure.

Some would later trace the incident that would take place on Monday to this night’s activities, but in truth, what would happen then would be the culmination of decades. In the here and now, though, Connally’s whiskey had the expected and obvious effect of the President getting stone cold drunk by the end of the night, because Richard Nixon always wanted to show what a man he was, long having ignored the reality that a real man doesn’t need to try and drink others under the table. Haig followed the usual procedure, calling the President’s faithful valet, Manolo Sanchez, to come help Nixon to bed. The other three men stayed up, talked some more about how to handle this latest kerfuffle, and finally bedded down after one am.

Sunday night, the entourage flew back to Washington, and Buzhardt was kept late at the White House by Nixon, still looking for an angle, still trying to get out of the trap that his own friends had accidentally laid for him. The President insisted he hadn’t erased the tape, and kept telling Buzhardt to testify to the fact that they listened to it together, that Buzhardt never saw the President do anything wrong. The part that the lawyer dared not say out loud, though, was that Nixon had listened to the tapes alone, first, and only after that did he come in and play them with Buzhardt, whereupon they heard the eighteen-and-a-half-minute gap. Unable to bring himself to contradict the man, he simply nodded at the President while he chain-smoked his Marlboro Reds and finally headed out at eleven that night.

The White House counsel for Watergate had already been furiously puffing away, Surgeon General’s warning be damned, when he arrived on Capitol Hill to testify. Buzhardt smoked at West Point, smoked in the Air Force, smoked when he worked for Segregationist Strom in the Senate, smoked at the Pentagon, and smoked at the White House. Throughout the hearing, Buzhardt continued to smoke, although he didn’t chain smoke out of deference to the committee, whom he needed to foil today to protect his own ass from jail. Interrogated and handheld, depending on who was asking the questions, the representatives slowly established a story about the tape, no small feat considering that Buzhardt was doing his best to ensure that he kept his answers short and without detail. When a long answer became necessary, he filibustered and weaved his way around the interrogatories, showing the skill of a man who’d spent decades fending off congressional committees as a Department of Defense lawyer. By lunchtime, most of the questioners had asked what they wanted, some had delivered speeches instead of really asking anything insightful, but Elizabeth Holtzman still lay in wait, perched like the proverbial hawk, waiting to swoop in and take Buzhardt’s carcass with her. The recess was called to give everyone an hour to eat, and then they took back up just after 1:30 pm.

What happened then can be explained by several factors, though they all boiled down to the same thing: Fred Buzhardt just didn’t take care of himself. A chain-smoking, steak-eating, fourteen-hour-a-day working, whiskey-drinking lawyer put under a microscope both by his boss (Nixon) and by his current interlocutor (an ex-prosecutor with the fierce conviction that can only stem from the firm belief that they are right). This was not a formula cut out for good health, and as Holtzman continued to dig at every last detail that she’d dragged out of the veteran lawyer, what seemed like a coughing fit from the Marlboros turned into something much more serious, necessitating a quick end to the hearing as medics were called and Buzhardt was rushed to Walter Reed Hospital. By that evening, he’d undergone double-bypass surgery and was in the cardiac intensive care unit, and Haig was simultaneously worrying over his friend and trying to find a new lawyer to serve their boss. The Vice President said if it were up to him, there wouldn’t even be a battle over who should take Fred’s place. In his eyes there was only choice for the job. The White House chief of staff met the easy gaze of John Connally and asked for his choice. Connally looked over at the President, who nodded, so the VP wrote out a phone number with a Houston area code and handed it over to Haig. Before the general did anything with it, the Vice President did what no one would ever dare to do—he picked up the phone from the Wilson desk in the Oval Office and dialed the number himself. Thirty minutes later, Leon Jaworski went home to pack and explain to his wife that he’d taken a job at the White House.

 

[wolverinethad]

This update is kind of short, but there's going to be some much longer ones coming later, and this sets the stage for some....interesting happenings.

 

[wolverinethad]

Leonidas “Leon” Jaworski, three days short of his 68th birthday. Born to Austrian and Polish immigrants, named after the mighty king of Sparta who defied the massive Persian army by standing in the pass at Thermopylae. Jaworski was another who liked to defy the odds, growing up studying by oil lamp, becoming a top debater at Waco High School, then on to his undergrad at Baylor and his law degree from George Washington University. At 20, he was the youngest lawyer ever admitted to the bar in Texas, a testament to his keen intellect. By his fortieth birthday, he’d served as a war crimes prosecutor in the lesser trials, declining to take place at Nuremberg because the trials were based on laws he considered to be unfairly applied to the German Nazis, not having existed in any form when they committed their crimes.

As did many other talented and skilled Texans, he fell into the orbit of Lyndon Baines Johnson, then Senate Majority Leader and later President, and it was through that connection that he also befriended one John Connally, a man whose striving reminded the Slavic-Texan of himself. Much like Connally, Jaworski found himself moving towards the Republicans, even chairing the Houston chapter of the state GOP. Despite that, he remained the same man he always was, fiercely independent, honest to everyone about everything. The Vice President knew that when he suggested him to Alexander Haig and the President, knew that Nixon couldn’t bully or sandbag Jaworski. When that happened, when the truth came out behind the doors of the Oval Office, Connally knew that Nixon would likely back down if Jaworski threatened to quit. If Nixon didn’t back down, Jaworski would quit, and then what? It’d be pretty obvious that a man as honest as Leonidas Jaworski would only quit his job as lawyer to the President if the President had done something illegal. Such an event would likely lead to a sure impeachment, and might even convince enough senators to vote to convict.

That was several moves ahead on the chess board, and Connally wasn’t going to forget the separate checkers game that was going on. Politics is a constant fluctuation between the tactical and the strategic. Those who want to advance in that arena always have an eye looking ahead, but to make it to that point, one had to have a sharp tactical sense as well. Not a soul in Washington thought that Vice President John Bowden Connally was anything less than one of the sharpest tactical operators in American politics. A small few recognized his strategic skills, but those were mainly overlooked because he was never in a hurry. The “veep” didn’t demonstrate the attitude of those rushing up the ladder (his current boss being one of those people who’d done just that), but yet, in just thirteen years, he’d gone from an attorney and mere aide to the Senate Majority Leader to the Vice Presidency. At the Washington Post, Nixon’s bête noire, executive editor Ben Bradlee was said to have remarked, “Connally’s like Walter Mitty, except he didn’t dream any of it. His whole damn charmed life is real.”

When Jaworski’s government car pulled up, Connally greeted him at the door and walked him to the Oval Office to meet the President. The two men were about the same size, and Nixon did his best to charm his new attorney, speaking about how Jaworski and he had come to the law in the same fashion, growing up poor, studying by oil lamps. He said that he was innocent of these charges, and that his only mistakes were of loyalty to his people and fighting for the prerogatives of his office. Nixon went on a short spiel about how the nation was coming apart, pulled by hippie kids, Communist infiltrators, old racists who wouldn’t let go of the past, and an economy battered by outside forces. Jaworski nodded sagely at this, while Connally did his best not to yawn at hearing this story again. The Vice President reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a long cigar, which Nixon had figured out meant that Connally wanted to talk business. The few people who’d witnessed such scenes said it was hard to tell who was really President in moments like that. They also made sure to whisper those thoughts.

Jaworski told the President that he needed certain promises, in writing, if he were to be able to do his job. Those promises were comprised of the following:

· Clearance to be able to examine all tapes, notes, documents, etc. related to the investigation.

· No use of the phrase “national security,” in regard to his ability to examine any of the above, because he could only be effective in defending the President if he had all the facts.

· In that vein, he no longer wanted the President to use that phrase in discussing Watergate. Jaworski said that it was a dud with the public, and that the best way to get any such things excluded was to state in clear language to Congress the sensitive topic covered in the evidence requested, and work out agreement on it.

Finally, Jaworski said, “Mr. President, I’m a lawyer. You’re a lawyer. All clients lie to their lawyers at some point, usually more than once. It’s because they’re embarrassed, or afraid, or something. However, if you lie to me in ways that prevent me from being able to defend you and this office in an effective manner, I will resign immediately and go back to Houston. The only way we can resolve this matter and get you out of the legal and political danger you are in is to navigate this entire case going forward as honestly as possible. If you are unable to do that, sir, please tell me now, and I’ll have the driver take me back to the airport.” Nixon froze, unable to speak for at least fifteen seconds by Connally’s count. Finally, he nodded. “Mr. Jaworski, I agree to your terms. I’m told you’re the best man for this job, and I need you. This office needs you.” The two men, lawyer and client, White House special counsel and president, shook hands on it as the White House photographer, Oliver Atkins, snapped a photograph of the moment. For reasons none present knew, it would later become an iconic image.

Jaworski was well-to-do, but not at the same level of wealth as Connally was, so instead of staying at a high-end hotel like the Willard (since he couldn’t bring himself to bill the government for lodging—that honesty again), he found himself a furnished apartment in Dupont Circle and signed a six-month lease, paying up front so he didn’t have to worry about things like rent checks. He suspected he’d be too busy to deal with that, and with his wife only coming up on the weekends, flying in from Houston, he’d be mostly alone in the capital. With that matter settled, he got back in his car, manned by a driver from the Air Force, and headed across town to the Vice President’s suite to have dinner with him and Nellie. As the car drove to their new townhouse in Georgetown (a lease arranged on favorable terms by Joseph Califano, who’d worked at the Pentagon with Connally), Jaworski looked out the window of the car and saw storm clouds moving in.

It was an apt metaphor for the job he’d signed up for.

Leon Jaworski walks down a Washington, D.C. sidewalk with Philip Lacovara (L) and Richard Ben-Veniste (R), who were fired from the Watergate Prosecution Office when the office was closed by President Richard Nixon. Jaworski was, depending on the source, either trying to recruit the men for the defense, or simply looking for information on the case to aid his defense of the President.

 

[Steve Brinson]

Wow. That’s... certainly a hell of a move.

 

[wolverinethad]

Wow. That’s... certainly a hell of a move.

I imagine that could apply to a couple things, so I'm curious which you think.

 

[Steve Brinson]

I imagine that could apply to a couple things, so I'm curious which you think.

Hiring Leon Jaworski. It's a very left-field move, especially to people like me who often think in terms of people's OTL roles, but it's a logical move and it certainly makes sense.

 

[wolverinethad]

Hiring Leon Jaworski. It's a very left-field move, especially to people like me who often think in terms of people's OTL roles, but it's a logical move and it certainly makes sense.

Jaworski was on the White House super-duper shortlist to join the defense team during the summer of 1973, but they had to leverage his integrity as special prosecutor instead.

In this timeline, it's not an issue. No special prosecutor's office, no need to use his honesty there. Therefore, when an old friend comes calling and asking for his help, and he believes in the President, it's not much of a stretch.

 

[wolverinethad]

These are the days you make a name for yourself.

Leon Jaworski dressed himself in his finest gray wool suit, slicked his hair into place, and walked down to the waiting government Ford sedan to take him off for battle. It wasn’t the White House he was going to today, but instead the E. Barrett Prettyman Federal District Courthouse, where he and John Doar, the special counsel for the House Judiciary Committee, were set to argue over the merits and the legality of the committee’s subpoena for sixty-four tapes of the President’s meetings in both the Oval Office and his OEOB hideout office. It would be a performance for an audience of one, Chief Judge John Sirica, the man who’d been the fulcrum of the entire Watergate investigation. It was roughly a year ago that James McCord wrote his letter to Sirica, blowing the case wide open and admitting that there were greater forces behind the break-in. This, of course, vindicated every suspicion that the chief judge had held for months.

Sirica had not taken kindly to many of the White House’s motions and defense arguments during 1973 as then-special prosecutor Archibald Cox was fighting to get tapes from the man who was his nominal boss. With Cox gone, the argument had changed. There was a separation of powers argument, an argument over what Congress was entitled to know as part of oversight, and an argument as to whether the subpoena could even be argued in a court of law (Charles Alan Wright, Nixon’s favorite law professor, had said in a friend of the court brief that a congressional subpoena was a political act and therefore the courts had no say in whether the President answered it or not). Jaworski had read Wright’s brief, along with Doar’s, and was working on his own presentation that he hoped could wind his way between the two positions. Jaworski didn’t want to incur Sirica’s wrath by explicitly denying that the federal courts had no role to play in this fight, nor did he feel that Doar was necessarily correct in saying that a President had to give Congress what it wanted when it subpoenaed the executive branch.

It was a crisp sunny day as Jaworski walked into the courthouse, trailed by a small army of reporters eager to see his first court battle as the president’s new attorney. Doar followed just two minutes later, the former assistant attorney general working for the other side of Pennsylvania Avenue now. The two men shook hands inside the courtroom as they waited for the hearing to begin, making the sort of small talk that only two such accomplished lawyers could do, discussing big cases around the country. At 9:30 am sharp, John Sirica, the Italian-American ex-boxer turned distinguished judge, made his way to the bench, and the legal combat was about to begin (John Osborne, senior editor at the New Republic and legendary Nixon watcher, was reminded of the old wrestling matches he watched as a young reporter in Memphis in the 1930s).

John Doar, for the plaintiff, went first. “Your Honor, the issues today are not dissimilar from those you decided last year. There is only one question at stake here: does the President of the United States have to answer to a legal subpoena? The answer you gave, and the D.C. Circuit Court of Appeals gave, is yes, the President does have to answer a legal subpoena issued for evidence in a criminal investigation. The President fired the special counsel rather than honor the court’s decision, and he told Congress he would cooperate, that he believed in the legal process, that he believed in our constitutional system of governance. The President was given a chance to show that he meant his words, and instead he is choosing, once again, to fight a subpoena instead of responding with the evidence subpoenaed.”

Doar continued, “The Congress, by our constitutional separation of powers, by our laws, is part of the checks and balances of American governance. It is their duty to provide oversight of the executive branch, their duty to serve as a check on the president’s power so that he does not act as a tyrant. They ensure that we do not have a king, with ultimate, unchecked power, doing as he pleases. We have seen many abuses of power in recent years, Judge Sirica. Today, as counsel for the House of Representatives, I urge you to order the President to obey this subpoena and demonstrate to this nation and the world that we do not believe anyone is above the law. Thank you.”

Judge Sirica then turned towards the defense bench and nodded. Leon Jaworski stood up, buttoned his coat, adjusted his glasses, and began his defense of the President. “Thank you, Your Honor. I had prepared a somewhat different argument, but after listening to the counsel for the House, I believe that we are not as far apart on this issue as everyone might think.” Doar turned his head to Jaworski, while Sirica asked, “Oh, really? Does that mean you believe you and Mr. Doar can negotiate an agreement on this subpoena?” Jaworski smiled. “Not quite, Your Honor. Mr. Doar stood here and argued that the President has to answer a subpoena for a criminal investigation. I certainly agree that he should. However, this is not a criminal investigation we are litigating here. It is a political investigation. Congress cannot have the President arrested, nor can the President dissolve Congress. Congress can issue subpoenas, and the President, if he chooses to not comply, can be impeached by the Congress for his failure to answer the subpoena. That is what the Constitution prescribes as the remedy to such a standoff. Regardless, the Congress does not conduct criminal investigations. That is the province of the Department of Justice, of which Mr. Doar was a senior member of just a few years ago, as part of the executive branch’s law enforcement function. The Congress passes laws, it does not enforce them. The Congress conducts political oversight, it does not issue subpoenas for criminal evidence. In fact, although there is the force of law behind a Congressional subpoena, Congress must ask the executive branch to enforce a subpoena if a witness defies it. The U.S. Marshals, another part of the executive branch, handle enforcement of subpoenas, and the judicial branch, with men such as yourself, Judge, deciding. The law is very clear on that matter for ordinary citizens, and while I agree that it may not seem very fair, the Constitution and the United States Code have only one answer when it comes to the President: if Congress wishes to enforce its subpoena on the President’s refusal to respond, it must impeach him.” Jaworski sat down.

Sirica turned back to Doar. “Mr. Doar, he has a point. This isn’t a criminal case. This is an impeachment inquiry, and it seems that your clients do have an option that doesn’t involve me. Why should I rule on this?” The House special counsel responded, “Your Honor, it is vitally important that the President not be above the law. Any other citizen would have to comply or go to jail. The President should be no different. Maybe we can’t jail him, but the judicial branch, which is here to mediate and be the third leg on the legal stool holding up our system of governance, should say with clarity that the President cannot defy the law!” Jaworski came to his feet. “Judge, Mr. Doar has made a fine argument of passion, but nothing he said is binding underneath the law. The President should be held responsible by Congress if they see fit, through the method granted to them under the Constitution: impeachment. If they are unwilling to impeach the President, then that is their choice. What the House is trying to do here, Your Honor, is to do for them what they won’t do for themselves, and that isn’t how the law works. That isn’t how the Constitution works. Your Honor, I ask that you deny this request, so Congress can follow the legal remedies they have available to them.”

Sirica pondered it for a minute, then decided he needed more time to make his decision. This would be one for law reviews and authors and probably the Supreme Court one way or the other, and he felt a responsibility to get it right. A rushed decision was in nobody’s interest, least of all his. He informed both parties that he would issue a ruling on Monday, January 21. He banged his gavel and left the courtroom. Both special counsels walked out to a storm of klieg lights, cameras, microphones and reporters all wanting to hear their comments—sadly for the media, both men played it cool, not wanting to upset the notoriously finicky judge or raise expectations beyond what they believed. To be honest, neither man had particularly high ones, but Doar, in his head, believed he’d probably hurt himself uttering the word “criminal.” Jaworski was right: it wasn’t a criminal case, and if Sirica ruled against the House, that one word would probably be the reason why.

 

[Yes]

This? This is good stuff. Good stuff.

 

[Unknown]

He may be defending Nixon but, damn, Jaworski has my respect and admiration...

 

[wolverinethad]

He may be defending Nixon but, damn, Jaworski has my respect and admiration...

Everyone deserves a good defense.

 

[wolverinethad]

There was a smell in the air, nothing that could be described, but everyone could sense it was there nonetheless. It was the scent of looming battle. Judge Sirica was about to render his opinion, which would draw the contours of the political war between the White House and Congress. The one question at stake was this: did the judiciary have the standing to force the President have to comply with a Congressional subpoena? If Sirica ruled yes, Jaworski would likely appeal immediately to the Supreme Court. If he ruled no, Doar might do the same, but the chances were less. Sirica had consistently ruled against the White House on motion after motion throughout the legal battle, so if he were to decide against the Judiciary Committee, it would not bode well for Doar’s chances on appeal.

Carl Bernstein, ever the scrounger, had found his way into the courtroom this bright, cold January morning, and had a ringside seat for Sirica’s decision. A year ago, in this courtroom, Sirica had given Bernstein and his Watergate reporting partner, Bob Woodward, a thinly-veiled scolding for trying to interview grand jurors. If Sirica saw him today, things might get interesting. A court clerk came in, whispering to both attorneys. The judge had gotten stuck in traffic and would be delayed about fifteen minutes, according to his security officer, who had radioed in. Bernstein tried to use the opening to get a word with Doar, but the special counsel for the House Judiciary Committee bluntly said he had no wish to talk with Bernstein now. Jaworski, gregarious as always, was dee-lighted to talk with the Post. Bernstein came at him right away with a whopper of a question: Why on Earth would he want to work for Richard Nixon?

“Now, son, every man deserves a defense, you know that. I think Richard Nixon has been a good president, poorly served by his aides at times, but done well for this nation nonetheless. You and I disagree on that, I’m sure [Jaworski chuckled here]. Anyway, the President asked me to help him get past this, and I couldn’t say no to the President. Would you tell Ben Bradlee no if he asked you to do something?” The gaze was piercing, even as the smile was pleasant. Bernstein replied that Ben Bradlee hadn’t committed any crimes, so it wasn’t a good comparison. The smile faded just a bit. “Well, Mr. Bernstein, the President may or may not be a criminal, but even if he is, he still deserves a good defense. This is a nation of laws, young man, and the only way that we continue to maintain our standing in this world is to act on those lines, regardless of who committed the crime or what the crime may be. When we get away from that, we cease to be a force for good in the world, Mr. Bernstein, and tell me, does that serve your cause?”

Before the Post reporter could think of an answer, the deputy marshal called out, “All rise!” and Judge John Sirica made his way to the bench. He offered a perfunctory apology for the holdup, apparently there had been an accident on the way in, and traffic was badly snarled. His voice actually trembled for a brief second, and Bernstein made a note. “Sirica is nervous. Never seen him like that before.” With the apology made, the judge picked up a folder and held it up. “In here, I’ve got the ruling I’ve made. I spent all weekend thinking this over and wrote into the night. I am fully cognizant of the grave constitutional realities involved, and how this ruling will affect the separation of powers for years, probably decades to come. I’m going to read my decision from the bench, and I hope you will bear with me as I do so.” The chief judge of the D.C. federal court opened his folder and began reading.

“This matter came before the Court on January 4, 1974 with the filing of a motion by the Judiciary Committee of the House of Representatives, asking the Court to settle a dispute between the legislative and executive branch: should the President be required, by court order, to answer a subpoena issued by a Congressional committee? On January 17, 1974, this Court heard oral arguments on the matter on and has reached a judgment. It is ordered this 21st day of January, 1974, that the judicial branch of the United States shall not intervene in this dispute between the Congress and the President of the United States. It is further ordered that this judgment shall be stayed 48 hours to allow the Congress to file an appeal if they so choose.”

Sirica moved into his opinion [the written explanation of his order]. “Congressional subpoenas are legal orders that the subpoenaed person or body are to obey. However, as people of free will, those who are issued a Congressional subpoena can choose to disobey those orders with the understanding that disobedience carries penalties for it. To enforce those penalties, Congress has two options. The first option is to refer the matter to the Justice Department for enforcement of the penalty, as directed by the Constitution, which instructs that the Congress shall make the laws and the President shall take care to enforce the laws, through his Attorney General and subordinates. That option can and has been used throughout the years towards members of the general public or civil service workers.

However, the second option is the relevant one in the matter we discuss here. A Congressional subpoena issued to a political appointee, Cabinet official, or the elected members of the Executive Branch, is a political matter. We cannot have the President dragged before Congress to answer a subpoena, which is why no Congress has ever subpoenaed testimony from the President. When items are requested from the executive branch by Congress, it is understood that Congress is required to oversee the actions of the executive branch and therefore the executive branch should comply. Notwithstanding that fact, the executive branch may decide to refuse to answer the subpoena and provide what Congress has asked for. In that case, Congress has been provided a tool—that of impeachment. If Congress decides that the actions of any official are so egregious as to disqualify the official from holding their public office, they may pass articles of impeachment, and then hold a trial in the Senate, whereupon if conviction is reached, the official is stripped of their rank and removed from office. That is their method to enforce subpoenas issued to the executive branch. The conviction does not send an official to jail, nor does it levy fines. It is a political grant of power by our Constitution, and its rarity of usage demonstrates the reverence that Congress holds for our legal foundation.

What the chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, through the chief counsel to the committee, has asked this Court to do is simply beyond its remit. If the Court were to intervene in this matter, and force the President of the United States to turn over items that he has said, through his counsel, are confidential and privileged, we would be creating an unequal balance in our Constitutional order. One might argue that by its actions, this Court has created an unequal balance towards the executive branch. That argument, however, does not pass muster when the Congress still retains powers to enforce its subpoena of the President. If it believes that the President’s refusal to comply with their subpoena has threatened the integrity of the office or this nation, or that it is so egregious that it constitutes a demonstrable unfitness to hold public office, then it may use its powers of impeachment against the President. This is a matter to be decided outside of the judiciary by the two branches before the Court, and the Court relinquishes control of this matter back to those two branches and urges both sides to reach an agreement in the matter so as to allow the other cases tied to this dispute to proceed without unnecessary delay.

John J. Sirica, Chief Judge, January 21, 1974”

Leon Jaworski smiled broadly and gently bounced a fist off the desk, thrilled that he had won a victory for the White House on a front where victories had been few and far between. John Doar, opposite him, wore the visage of a man who knew what was to come and feared the result of it. He would consult with the committee later, and then with Chairman Rodino in his private office. Doar would proceed with whatever actions he was directed to undertake, but his advice would be that there was only one clear path left. Impeachment hearings must begin, with or without the subpoenaed tapes. The leverage of that threat might compel compliance from the White House, but if it did not, then, in Doar’s eyes, the plunge had to be taken, or the balance between Congress and the President would be irrevocably tilted in favor of the White House. Such a tilt would harm the nation’s interests, erode the Constitution, and slowly destroy democracy. Doar was certain Rodino and the committee would agree with his take on the matter. The problem was, would the leadership share his opinion? Would Carl Albert and Tip O’Neill be ready to take the leap ahead without strong evidence that the President was guilty? Despite all the convictions and Congressional testimony, the case against Nixon came down to, “so many of his aides have been convicted of crimes that there is no way he was unaware of all of this, plus he won’t give up his tapes.” That was a thin reed to go on. The Judiciary Committee counsel blew right through the horde of reporters to a waiting taxi, which took him back to Capitol Hill. It was going to be a long afternoon.

 

[Yes]

Nice introduction for the lay-folk to political-question doctrine. As someone who's spent a tolerable amount of time around judges and their holdings, that's a really great job on Sirica's logic. Also love the characterizations, "ever the scrounger" sums up Bernstein so well. This continues to be a treat.

 

[wolverinethad]

Nice introduction for the lay-folk to political-question doctrine. As someone who's spent a tolerable amount of time around judges and their holdings, that's a really great job on Sirica's logic. Also love the characterizations, "ever the scrounger" sums up Bernstein so well. This continues to be a treat.

Having worked in my uncle's law office as a kid (he was rather a big shot in Detroit), I learned the language of lawyers firsthand. I read some of Sirica's opinions to get a feel for his style, and blended it into "where the line is." I don't know that Sirica would rule the same today, since partisanship has drastically shifted the balance out of whack. Congressional leaders have let partisanship destroy their duty to the institution and the law, and it's made the executive and judiciary far too powerful. It's why the national political dialogue has become so unhealthy, in part. Imbalance creates grievance, and grievance left unmoderated and unaddressed brings strife, so on and so forth.

 

[wolverinethad]

As John Doar had recommended, an impeachment investigation had fully begun after the defeat of the Judiciary Committee’s subpoena in federal court. Tip O’Neill wanted to go straight to the floor with an impeachment resolution, and had essentially written it right out in the meeting inside his office (Albert snuck over there to avoid the press crush in front of his own office after Sirica’s decision). “The House of Representatives hereby impeaches Richard Nixon, President of the United States, for the following: (1) the impounding of funding mandated by the Congress, in violation of the Constitution. (2) the illegal bombing of the nations of Laos and Cambodia without a declaration of war by Congress. (3) the instructions given to the Central Intelligence Agency to obstruct the investigation by the Federal Bureau of Investigation into the break-in at the Democratic National Committee offices in the Watergate, a break-in ordered by administration officials and committed by members of the President’s re-election committee. (4) the suborning of perjury by multiple administration officials. (5) refusing to answer a legitimate Congressional subpoena for evidence related to our investigation of the Watergate affair.“ Doar marveled at how well O’Neill, a law school dropout, had succinctly captured the heart of the major crimes committed by the President. While he thought the second and fourth counts would be toughest to gain a conviction with, it was an excellent starting point.

Despite Doar’s agreement with O’Neill on the wording, he knew a proper investigation would be needed first. Bernie Nussbaum and he were working together with an agreement they’d drafted to deal with an awkward situation—Nussbaum had been chief counsel until Rodino had brought Doar in to handle Watergate and how consuming it would be. The agreement had Nussbaum retaining the chief counsel to the committee title, working on all other items in front of the Judiciary Committee, and assisting Doar as needed. Doar’s title was lead counsel on Watergate for the Judiciary Committee, establishing him as the leader of this specific area of business. With Doar’s consent, Nussbaum had been talent scouting for assistant counsels to help the investigation. Amongst his hires was a young woman named Hillary Rodham, a Yale Law School graduate, who had morphed from Goldwater Girl to a George McGovern campaign worker in the South. Nussbaum saw a lot of ambition and intelligence in the woman, and felt that with a committee which counted several top-notch female intellects on it, Ms. Rodham would be an excellent addition to the team.

Regardless of O’Neill’s strong arguments, Albert and Rodino insisted on going the proper route, so the President would have no legal or political reeds to grasp on to. That evening, the assistant counsels found their weekends were going to be lacking in fun, spent inside committee offices going through files and researching the only impeachment of a President, Andrew Johnson, which had, interestingly enough, taken place in February as well, 105 years ago. It was both relevant and irrelevant to their work, but the procedures were what Doar cared about most. How were the articles voted upon, how were the charges formulated, etc.

While impeachment research began on Capitol Hill, Richard Nixon was jubilant inside the White House. Aides who’d been there since before the fall of “the Germans,” Haldeman and Ehrlichmann, talked to each other about how they’d not seen the President this happy since the China and Soviet trips in 1972. The normally taciturn Nixon was giving joyous hellos and “how are yous” to anyone he passed. It took all of Haig and Jaworski’s persuasive powers to convince him not to hold a press conference, and Nixon eventually agreed to lay low from the media. That didn’t stop leaks from getting out to certain reporters about the president’s mood, which made their way into the news articles the next morning. For once, Nixon didn’t care. He thought it certain he was going to beat this Watergate thing, get the shadow away from its persistent presence over his second term.

Leon Jaworski was less sure that it was beat. He felt that the House majority was so substantial that even if a large bloc of the Southern Democrats defected, impeachment articles would pass anyway, probably with the help of some liberal Republicans like Pete McCloskey. It wasn’t a guarantee, but even congressional folks who backed the President would be upset over the White House defying their subpoena. What was key for Jaworski was to ensure that there were no time bombs out there, evidence he was unaware of, witnesses that might flip on the President (E. Howard Hunt especially came to mind, and Charles Colson as well). Rex Lee, the Deputy Attorney General who’d taken over all of the cases against those involved in Watergate and elsewhere, had been tenacious in his pursuit of justice against everyone that had been involved. John Mitchell, Haldeman, Ehrlichmann, his predecessor Richard Kleindienst—nobody was being spared. Nixon had stayed out of it, only because he was afraid that if he lost another Attorney General in Ruckelshaus that he’d lose some of the support he had in Congress. As it was, to be on his fourth Attorney General in five years since taking office already looked bad.

While the Judiciary Committee researched and pored through evidence, some of it supplied by Sam Ervin’s Watergate Committee in the Senate, Jaworski and his assistant counsels, which included Fred Thompson, the Tennessee lawyer who’d aided Senator Howard Baker in his role as minority chair on the Watergate committee, did their own research into Johnson’s impeachment and sorting through all the files that Haldeman and Ehrlichmann had left behind in the White House after their resignation. It was during that effort that Jaworski got his first hints that something had been amiss. Unable to find a memo referenced in another file from Haldeman’s office, Jaworski went to Al Haig’s office to ask if he had the memo in question. Haig said he didn’t, and then asked what file Jaworski had seen that was prompting the search. Jaworski told Haig what he’d read, and was surprised when Haig slammed his hand on his desk and spun around, reaching for a cigarette. After lighting up, Haig said that soon after Haldeman resigned, he called the President direct, bypassing Haig, and asked for access to his files to look for items to bolster his defense. Nixon agreed and had Larry Higby escort Haldeman to the storage room which held all of Haldeman’s files after they’d been hastily removed to accommodate Haig’s transition into the chief of staff office. Haig didn’t find out until after it had all happened, and Higby insisted that Haldeman had taken nothing out, just made notes. Haig didn’t trust Higby, though he wasn’t a lawyer and didn’t know where he should even look, nor did he have time to do a full search himself.

Jaworski told Haig it was pretty clear that Haldeman must have taken at least one memo, maybe more, and those memos were likely destroyed now. While that was good for the President in one respect, Jaworski felt they had to report this to Judge Sirica, since they had evidence of a crime, or, at the very least, to Rex Lee at the Justice Department. It also trouble Nixon that he had potentially helped obstruct justice, although there was a case to be made that Nixon was only trying to help a loyal aide defend himself—even if that aide had clearly been involved in a crime. It troubled the special White House counsel for Watergate, but he put it aside for the moment. He directed Thompson to go track down Higby and question him. If Higby didn’t cooperate, Jaworski was determined to get a subpoena to force Higby to give a deposition, something highly unusual for a defense attorney, but one that he could arrange, since he worked for the executive branch, and the Department of Justice’s current leadership would be as interested in he as to Higby’s actions with Haldeman.

After two weeks of “no comments” on both sides, Congress and the White House, Peter Rodino announced that hearings would begin on February 12 to determine if there was enough evidence for the impeachment of the President. This news both infuriated and steeled Nixon—his moods had gone from the elation of his court victory to the anger that the House would try to impeach him despite having lost in the court to the determination to beat the liberals in Congress and continue on as the leader of the nation. Haig wondered, not for the first time, whether the President was an undiagnosed manic depressive. The new 25th Amendment made it even riskier for the President, as he could be removed without impeachment if the Cabinet reached agreement that he was unfit for office. Haig conferred with Garment and Nixon’s White House physicians, Major General Walter Tkach and Navy Captain William Lukash, to see what their views were on the matter, and they concluded that there was only so much that could be done without the compliance of the President, and he would refuse anything remotely associated with therapy or mental health medication.

As Haig worked to protect the President from his own emotional state, Jaworski decided that he wanted to talk to Fred Buzhardt to ensure that he had not missed anything in his work since taking over. Buzhardt had lived with this for over six months before Jaworski came on, and Jaworski, meanwhile, had only been at it for ten weeks. Without telling anyone else, Jaworski took a walk on Friday afternoon out of the White House, and then took a taxi to Bethesda Naval Hospital, where Buzhardt continued to recuperate. Jaworski found Buzhardt’s room number at the front desk, and went up to his room. Jaworski was shocked at how frail Buzhardt looked, but the man’s voice was strong despite his physical appearance. The first White House special counsel for Watergate asked his successor what he wanted. Jaworski laid out everything they’d discovered (except for the Haldeman affair) and asked Buzhardt if there was anything else he should be aware of, anything at all. Buzhardt nodded. Tentatively, Jaworski asked Buzhardt if it was about the gap in the tapes. Buzhardt replied, “Yeah, Leon. The President requested that tape before he and I listened to it. Steve Bull told me about it when I was preparing to testify on the 4th. The President checked it out a week before he reviewed it with me, and when we listened, there was the large gap in the tapes. All he said was, ‘Damn, I wonder what happened here.’ When I found out on the 3rd that he’d checked it out before I listened with him, I thought he must have erased it, but I had no way of proving that, and then I had this damned heart attack while I was testifying. I don’t think I could’ve said anything anyway without compromising attorney-client privilege in any case, especially since I lacked proof. I’d be the President’s own attorney accusing him in public without proof he’d done anything.”

Jaworski stared into Buzhardt’s eyes. “Is that all?” “Yeah, Leon, that’s all. I swear. I’m not sure I’m gonna make it out of here, so I’ve got no reason to lie to you. It makes me really sad that this President, who I really care about and think has done a great job leading us, might have destroyed evidence of a crime. Dean got that part right: this really is a cancer on the presidency,” Buzhardt replied. Jaworski shook his hand, wished him well, and left the hospital. Instead of going home, he took a taxi to a bar he’d come to enjoy on Connecticut Avenue. He spent his Friday night drinking Scotch and agonizing over what he should do. Did he quit and inform Rodino? Did he stay on and suborn potential perjury? What’s the right call when you’re defending the President?

 

[wolverinethad]

Leon Jaworski had taken the weekend to think, to ponder, to look inside his soul and decide just how much a man’s defense was worth. He’d asked his wife to fly up Saturday morning, and Saturday night was spent eating takeout Chinese and drinking wine inside the apartment as they talked over his moral crisis. For all Jaworski’s intelligence, skill, and integrity, it was his wife who suggested the simplest (and best) solution: have a meeting alone with the President and ask him straight up whether he’d done it or not. “Leon,” she said, “you are a good man, and I’ve never known a man who can lie to your face without you knowing that it’s a lie. Ask him whether he did it, and when you have your answer, then you can decide what you want to do.” It was sage advice, the attorney thought to himself as he dressed on this Monday morning, and it was one of many reasons why he’d married Jeanette.

Jaworski took his car to the White House, getting out on West Executive Drive, and entering the West Wing, where he made a beeline for Al Haig’s office. Haig’s secretary barely had the chance to get a word out when the Texan charged straight through the door into the spacious room. Haig had just lit his omnipresent cigarette and was reading an intelligence briefing when he became aware that his door was open and there was a very agitated presidential lawyer standing in front of him. “You’re aware there’s a procedure, right? You should get buzzed in, or knock, you know, something that doesn’t get you dragged out of here by the Secret Service,” Haig said, rather sardonically. “Al, I’m sorry, but I need to meet with the President. It’s urgent, and it has to be just me and him. There’s a privilege issue here,” Jaworski replied, brushing off the jibe. The chief of staff’s expression changed rapidly. “Okay, we’ll get you in there now.” He picked up the phone, dialed Rose Woods, and told her they needed to see the Old Man now. Both men hustled down the hall to the Oval Office, where National Security Adviser Brent Scowcroft was scurrying out the other door, notified that he had to leave. Haig informed the President that Jaworski needed to urgently speak to him alone, and withdrew to the outer office, where he had his daily chat with Rose Woods.

Nixon was unsure of why his attorney was there in such a hurry, but he didn’t have to wait long. “Did you erase the June 20th tape, sir?” inquired Jaworski, staring straight into the eyes of the leader of the free world. “What…why…no, of course I didn’t erase the tape, Leon! Why are you asking me if I did?” replied Nixon. “I was given reason to believe over the weekend by a person formerly employed in this administration that you erased the tape because it contained clear evidence of White House complicity in the break-in, Mr. President. I cannot take such a charge from someone who was in a position to know lightly. More importantly, I cannot do my job as an attorney defending you, the person, and you, the office, if I do not have every, and I do mean every, last fact, figure, and piece of evidence you are aware of. I have kept your tapes out of the courts for you. The Congress will become more likely to follow through on an impeachment if you are not thorough and honest with them about what you knew and when you knew it about this case. I know you are loyal to your men, but if Haldeman, Ehrlichmann, or anyone working under them knew or covered up to protect you, then you have to tell Congress that. This only works if you cooperate, and if you are truthful. If you lie, to me or to them, it’ll come out eventually, and then it wouldn’t matter if it were me, Felix Frankfurter, Daniel Webster and John Marshall defending you—you’d be impeached and removed. So, Mr. President, I need you to look me in the eye and promise me you will tell me everything you know about this. If you can’t do this, then you’ll need a new lawyer,” the head of Fulbright and Jaworski said, his face bearing the same demeanor as it did one cold winter day in 1944 when he prosecuted five German POWs for murdering Johannes Kunze at Camp Tonkawa, a prison camp for Nazis in Oklahoma.

Two minutes later, Jaworski left the Oval Office, making a beeline down the hall for the Vice President’s office at the other end. He would be in that office for nearly an hour before leaving. Haig took note and attempted to discover what had been discussed between the two, but Jaworski refused to answer and Vice President Connally told Haig that it was better if he didn’t know. What the chief of staff only could suspect, but didn’t know, was that the subject was one better off with Haig’s ignorance, because it only stood to benefit one person: John Connally.

That evening, Connally took advantage of the tunnel underneath Pennsylvania Avenue that connected the White House to the Treasury Department. It made for an easy way to slip Haig’s aides and his normal Secret Service detail, since the Service guarded the tunnel and Treasury as well, there was no need for the detail to follow--the VP was still considered “on the grounds.” Once he completed the journey, which included a ride on a small tram for the part that went underneath the streets, he took an elevator up to the first floor and walked to a small office, room T-1047. Waiting to meet him was a man named Charlie Ward, whose boss was the Speaker of the House, Carl Albert. Ward was one of the many efficient, hardworking, and politically skilled aides who helped grease the wheels around Washington. He was also an enforcer, using the FBI to investigate congressional aides at the behest of his boss, all while his boss was defending the FBI against charges of having done just that very thing. Today was a little different, though. Ward didn’t usually get to go after a President.

“Mr. Ward, Carl has vouched for you in this matter, so I need you to pass him a message for me. The President was involved in the erasure of the tape from June 20, 1972. The tape was the first time that Haldeman informed him of the culpability of several executive branch officials, as well men from CREEP. The President has told certain folks that he did it because he feared the tape would be misconstrued by his enemies—he sounded very nonplussed, apparently, but inside he claims he was burning mad because he knew that Mitchell and the wild boys at CREEP, his words, not mine, had gone and fucked everything up. At the time, he didn’t think about the tape system, but after he started reviewing tapes and heard the conversation again, he didn’t want to take any chances. Jaworski apparently threatened to quit this morning, I can’t confirm that, it’s just a rumor floating around the West Wing, but your boss might want to keep a very close hold on things and prod Rodino to push for certain tapes. If Jaworski quits or is fired, you could always subpoena him. Hell, since he’s working for the office and not Nixon personally, maybe you should do it anyways, see what shakes out from that,” Connally explained.

“Mr. Vice President, I’ve seen a lot of cold people in my career, but I’ve never seen a VP going after his boss in this manner,” Ward said. “Why are you so eager to push Dick Nixon out of the West Wing?”

“Son, I’m not eager at all. Dick is my friend, and I care about him deeply, which is why I’m serving under him for the second time. I cannot pretend, though, that he is doing the office or the country any favors as things currently are, and I don’t want to see us dragged into another year of slugging this mess out. I also meant the oath I swore to defend the Constitution, and if he’s breaking into the opposition’s offices to win an election and nothing is done about it, we might as well shred it and make him king. Free and fair elections are what separates us from those apparatchiks in the Kremlin or that doddering tyrant in China. You know that and I know that. We’re doing right by the country here, and that’s all I care about. Now, deliver that message to your boss so we can figure out a way to end this before the economy collapses or the Russians invade.” Connally shook Ward’s hand, turned, and headed back to the White House the same way he came, so he could be seen leaving, just another day at the office.

 

[Yes]

DUN. DUN. DUNNNNNN.

mmm... high words and low motives... goes down smooth.

On a more uplifting note you've done a great job highlighting Jaworski's sheer personal quality by moving him over to the other side. One of the only upright men in town.

 

[wolverinethad]

Twenty-four hours of chaos.

The more fertile minds in the CIA thought that March 1st would’ve been the perfect day for the Warsaw Pact to launch an invasion. Never before had both the United Kingdom and the United States been in such absolute turmoil at the same time, and most doubted that it never would be again. The British went to the ballot box coming off a 1973 that could best be described as a sheer bloody mess. The prosperity that had marked the time from MacMillan all the way into Heath’s government ran headlong into the currents that were churning the world. It started with the IRA’s terror campaign in London as retribution for Bloody Sunday the year before—Whitehall, the Old Bailey, Victoria Station, Manchester Station, King’s Cross Station, Euston Station, Oxford Street and Sloane Square all saw explosions that killed and injured dozens. Then came the strikes, from miners to railway workers to ambulance drivers to over a million government workers, all protesting the Heath government’s pay freezes and other sundry measures to contain the inflation gripping the world (8.4% that year alone in Britain). Just to rub salt in the wounds, Britain lost two of its literary leading lights—Nöel Coward and J.R.R. Tolkien, and soon thereafter saw the “Three-Day Week” introduced. Four out of seven days of the week, businesses not deemed essential would not receive electricity.

All this combined to sour voters on the Heath government, but because of the peculiarities of the British parliamentary system, the protest vote split between the Labour Party of Harold Wilson and Jeremy Thorpe’s Liberals, with the resulting hung Parliament. Labour took the plurality, but Heath was desperately trying to convince the Liberals to join him in coalition, after which he hoped that the Ulster Unionists would put him over the hump into a majority. Thorpe found the idea preposterous and unlikely to even survive a single vote after the Queen’s Speech, and Wilson was already preparing to form a minority government and then call a new election soon thereafter, but at the moment, Heath was still PM, and the nation was teetering on collapse.

Meanwhile, in the States, despite the fervent wishes of the President, AG William Ruckelshaus and Rex Lee, the deputy AG, continued the Watergate investigation based off evidence gathered prior to the shutdown of the independent counsel’s office. Ruckelshaus had basically extorted Nixon to submit a copy of all the evidence gathered by Cox’s office to the DOJ by threatening to resign if he didn’t get it. Without implying that the President had a hand in it, the Attorney General had insisted that those underneath the President had to face justice for their roles in either ordering the break-in or covering it up. After conferring with Jaworski, Haig, and Connally, Nixon agreed to surrender the sealed contents of Cox’s office to the Justice Department. Ruckelshaus, in turn, agreed that he would recuse himself from making any of the decisions and Lee would take the lead. Reviewing the Cox files, the deputy AG found more than enough to take to the grand jury that had been impaneled for eighteen months and counting, and March 1, as the UK was in turmoil, the greatest political scandal in American history began its final, massive spasm with the indictment of virtually every key figure in the first Nixon administration.

Former chief of staff H.R. “Bob” Haldeman, former senior adviser John Ehrlichmann, former Attorney General John Mitchell, former Deputy Attorney General Robert Mardian, Haldeman’s assistant Gordon Strachan, CREEP attorney Kenneth Parkinson, and former deputy White House counsel Charles Colson all were indicted on conspiracy charges related to the Watergate break-in by the grand jury, a result that went well above what anybody expected. It basically meant that the first administration was a criminal outfit, and the implications for the President were severe. Nixon was so aroused by the result that he insisted on going straight to the press room and giving a statement, where he said, “It is my fervent hope that the trials will move quickly to a just conclusion. I am confident that all Americans will join me in recognizing that those indicted are presumed innocent unless proof of guilt is established in the courts. I have always believed that any charges below that of my office should be adjudicated in the judicial system, and I am confident that justice will prevail in these cases, regardless of the verdicts.”

Despite the President’s appearance before the media, many newspapers were just as interested in who hadn’t spoken: Leon Jaworski. The voluble, media-friendly lawyer had gone silent three weeks earlier, and nobody could figure a reason why. Ron Ziegler had spent the last week waving the issue away, pointing out that Jaworski was merely preparing for the Judiciary Committee’s expected impeachment hearings to mount the best defense for the President. Many weren’t buying that excuse now that the big wave of top-level indictments had come down, but without any word from Jaworski himself, there was no proof of anything. Only two people knew what Jaworski was thinking: his wife and John Connally. Jaworski had spent hours with the Vice President, talking over the most explosive piece of evidence in the case: the President had deliberately erased the tape of June 20th, 1972. The Texas lawyer knew he was representing a client who had destroyed evidence, and that client was the chief law enforcement official for the nation. Evidence of a past crime was privileged information, but this wasn’t a court hearing, it was a political action. Had Nixon been on trial before a court, Leon Jaworski would be compelled to stay silent. That wasn’t the case here. Nixon was facing a political trial of sorts, and the attorney-client privilege here was murky at best. Jaworski firmly believed that every man deserved a defense, but this involved the sanctity of the democratic process, the very beating heart of America, and his client, the President, had taken pains to subvert it. At this point, Jaworski still had no proof the President ordered the break-in, and found it unlikely that Nixon would put himself in front of such a risky enterprise, but Jaworski knew that a cover-up had been ordered to protect his administration from scandal. That, in and of itself, threatened to create a firestorm that would end in more riots, more distrust—a rot at the fabric of what kept the Union together. What was best for the nation? Jaworski agonized endlessly over this issue, and spent hours with Connally nearly every night talking it over while consuming bourbon. The President resented the silence of his lawyer, but tolerated it as long as he kept doing his job. He knew that his confession of obstruction had caused the situation, he knew it the moment he uttered the words and Jaworski’s face went as pale as the paint on the exterior of the White House.

Connally issued his own statement after the indictments, insisting that this would be the end of the line for Watergate, that the guilty would be punished, and that he was ashamed of how the President’s men had so poorly served him. He gave a paean to the idea of loyalty while decrying the principles of those who thought that loyalty came before morality. Inwardly, he recognized the opening this gave him: with one good, solid push, the Vice President felt that he could convince Jaworski that his duty to country came first, and he should inform the Judiciary Committee that the President destroyed evidence in the case and should be impeached from his office, since he did not possess the moral capacity to serve as the nation’s leader. It would be his biggest gamble yet, the whole pile of chips on the table, a solid hand from the dealer. John Connally had never yet lost a big gamble, and he had no intention of this next one being his first loss.

 

[David Floyd]

This is fantastic.

 

[wolverinethad]

This is fantastic.

I thank the honourable gentleman for his kind remarks.