The portions of
The Nation article which were copied verbatim from “A Time to Heal,” excepting quotes
from government documents and quotes attributed by Ford to third persons, are
identified in bold face in the text. See ante at 562, n. 7. The corresponding
passages in the Ford manuscript are footnoted.
In his memoirs, A
Time To Heal, which Harper & Row will publish in late May or early
June, former President Gerald R. Ford says that the idea of giving a blanket
pardon to Richard M. Nixon was raised before Nixon on resigned from the
Presidency by Gen. Alexander Haig, who was then the White House chief of staff.
Ford also writes
that, but for a misunderstanding, he might have selected Ronald Reagan as his
1976 running mate, that Washington lawyer Edward Bennett Williams, a Democrat,
was his choice for head of the Central Intelligence Agency, that Nixon was the
one who first proposed Rockefeller for Vice President, and that he regretted
his “cowardice”1 in
allowing Rockefeller to remove himself from Vice Presidential contention. Ford
also describes his often prickly relations with Henry Kissinger.
The Nation obtained the 655-page typescript before
publication. Advance excerpts form the book will appear in Time in
mid-April and in The Reader’s Digest thereafter. Although the initial
print order has not been decided, the figure is tentatively set at 50,000; it
could change, depending upon the public reaction to the serialization.
Ford’s account
of the Nixon pardon contains significant new detail on the negotiations and
considerations that surrounded <471 U.S. 571>
it. According to Ford’s version, the subject was first broached to him by
General Haig on August 1, 1974, a week before Nixon resigned. General Haig
revealed that the newly transcribed White House tapes were the equivalent of
the “smoking gun“2 and
that Ford should prepare himself to become President.
Ford was deeply
hurt by Haig’s revelation: “Over the past several months Nixon had
repeatedly assured me that he was not involved in Watergate, that the evidence
would prove his innocence, that the matter would fade from view.”3 Ford had believed him,
but he let Haig explain the President’s alternatives.
He could “ride
it out“4 or he
could resign, Haig said. He then listed the different ways Nixon might resign
and concluded by pointing out that Nixon could agree to leave in return for
an agreement that the new President, Ford, would pardon him.5 Although Ford said it
would be improper for him to make any recommendation, he basically agreed with
Haig’s assessment and adds, “Because of his references to the pardon
authority, I did ask Haig about the extent of a President’s pardon power.”
6
“It’s my
understanding from a White House lawyer,” Haig replied, “that a President does
have authority to grant a pardon even before criminal action has been taken
against an individual.”
<471
U.S. 572> But
because Ford had neglected to tell Haig he thought the idea of a resignation
conditioned on a pardon was improper, his press aid, Bob Hartmann, suggested
that Haig might well have returned to the White House and told President Nixon
that he had mentioned the idea and Ford seemed comfortable with it. “Silence
implies assent.”
Ford then
consulted with White House special counsel James St. Clair, who had no advice
one way or the other on the matter more than pointing out that he was not the
lawyer who had given Haig the opinion on the pardon. Ford also discussed the
matter with Jack Marsh, who felt that the mention of a pardon in this context
was a “time bomb,” and with Bryce Harlow, who had served six Presidents and who
agreed that the mere mention of a pardon “could cause a lot of trouble.”7 <225
USPQ 1086>
As a result of
these various conversations, Vice President Ford called Haig and read him a
written statement: “I want you to understand that I have no intention of
recommending what the President should do about resigning or not resigning and
that nothing we talked about yesterday afternoon should be given any
consideration in whatever decision the President may wish to make.”
Despite what
Haig had told him about the “smoking gun” tapes, Ford told a Jackson, Mich.,
luncheon audience later in the day that the President was not guilty of an
impeachable offense. “Had I said otherwise at that moment, “ he writes, “ the
whole house of cards might have collapsed.”8
In justifying
the pardon, Ford goes out of his way to assure the reader that “compassion
for Nixon as an individual <471 U.S. 573>
hadn’t prompted my decision at all.”9 Rather, he did it because
he had “to get the monkey off my back one way or the other.”10
The
precipitating factor in his decision was a series of secret meetings his
general counsel, Phil Buchen, held with Watergate Special Prosecutor Leon
Jaworski in the Jefferson Hotel, where they were both staying at the time. Ford
attributes Jaworski with providing some “crucial” information11 – i.e., that Nixon
was under investigation in ten separate areas, and that the court process
could “take years.”12
Ford cites a memorandum from Jaworski’s assistant, Henry S. Ruth Jr., as being
especially persuasive. Ruth had written:
“If you decide
to recommend indictment I think it is fair and proper to notify Jack Miller and
the White House sufficiently in advance so that pardon action could be taken
before the indictment.” He went on to say: “One can make a strong argument for
leniency and if President Ford is so inclined, I think he ought to do it early
rather than late.”
Ford decided
that court proceedings against might take six years, that Nixon “would not
spend time quietly in San Clemente, “13and “it would be
virtually impossible for me to direct public attention on anything else.”14
Buchen, Haig and
Henry Kissinger agreed with him. Hartmann was not so sure.
<471
U.S. 574> Buchen
wanted to condition the pardon on Nixon agreeing to settle the question of who would
retain custody and control over the tapes and Presidential papers that might be
relevant to various Watergate proceedings, but Ford was reluctant to do that.
At one point a
plan was considered whereby the Presidential materials would be kept in a vault
at a Federal facility near San Clemente, but the vault would require two keys
to open it. One would be retained by the General Services Administration, the
other by Richard Nixon.
The White House
did, however, want Nixon to make a full confession on the occasion of his
pardon or, at a minimum, express true contrition. Ford tells of the negotiation
with Jack Miller, Nixon’s lawyer, over the wording of Nixon’s statement. But as
Ford reports Miller’s response. Nixon was not likely to yield. “His few
meetings with his client had shown him that the former President’s ability to
discuss Watergate objectively was almost nonexistent.”15
The statement
they really wanted was never forthcoming. As soon as Ford’s emissary arrived in
San Clemente, he was confronted with an ultimatum by Ron Zeigler, Nixon’s
former press secretary. “Lets get one thing straight immediately,” Zeigler
said. “President Nixon is not issuing any statement whatsoever regarding
Watergate, whether Jerry Ford pardons him or not.” Zeigler proposed a draft,
which was turned down on the ground that “no statement would be better than
that.16 They
went through three more drafts before they agreed on the statement Nixon
finally made, which stopped far short of a full confession.
When Ford aide
Benton Becker tried to explain to Nixon that acceptance of a pardon <225 USPQ 1087> was an admission of guilt, he <471 U.S. 575> felt the President wasn’t really
listening. Instead, Nixon wanted to talk about the Washington Redskins. And
when Becker left, Nixon pressed on him some cuff links and a tiepin “out of my
own jewelry box.”
Ultimately, Ford
sums up the philosophy underlying his decision as one he picked up as a student
at Yale Law School many years before. “I
learned that public policy often took precedence over a rule of law. Although I
respected the tenet that no man should be above the law, public policy demanded
that I put Nixon – and Watergate – behind us as quickly as possible.”17
Later, when Ford
learned that Nixon’s phlebitis had acted up and his health was seriously
impaired, he debated whether to pay the ailing former President a visit. “If
I made the trip it would remind everybody of Watergate and the pardon. If I
didn’t, people would say I lacked compassion.”18 Ford went:
He was
stretched out flat on his back. There were tubes in his nose and mouth, and
wires led from his arms, chest and legs to machines with orange lights that
blinked on and off. His face was ashen, and I thought I had never seen anyone
closer to death.19
The manuscript
made available to The Nation includes many references to Henry Kissinger and
other personalities who played a major role during the Ford years.
<471
U.S. 576> On Kissinger.
Immediately after being informed by Nixon of his intention to resign, Ford
returned to the Executive Office Building and phoned Henry Kissinger to let him
know how he felt. “Henry,” he said, “I need you. The country needs
you. I want you to stay. I’ll do everything I can to work with you.”20
“Sir,” Kissinger
replied, “it is my job to get along with you and not yours to get along with
me.”
“We’ll get
along,” Ford said. “I
know we’ll get along.” Referring to Kissinger’s joint jobs as Secretary of
State and National Security Adviser to the President, Ford said, “I don’t
want to make any change. I think it’s worked out well, so let’s keep it that
way.”21
Later Ford did
make the change and relieved Kissinger of his responsibilities as National
Security Adviser at the same time that he fired James Schlesinger as Secretary
of Defense. Shortly thereafter, he reports, Kissinger presented him with a
“draft” letter of resignation, which he said Ford could call upon at will if he
felt he needed it to quiet dissent from conservatives who objected to
Kissinger’s role in the firing of Schlesinger.
On John
Connally. When Ford was
informed that Nixon wanted him to replace Agnew, he told the President he had “no
ambition to hold office after January 1977.”22 Nixon replied that that
was good since his own choice for his running mate in 1976 was John Connally.
“He’d be excellent,” observed Nixon. Ford says he had “no problem with that.”
<471
U.S. 577> On
the Decision to Run Again. Ford was, he tells us, so sincere in his
intention not to run again that he thought he would announce it and enhance his
credibility in the country and the Congress, as well as keep the promise he had
made to his wife, Betty.
Kissinger talked
him out of it. “You can’t do that. It would be disastrous from a foreign policy
point of view. For the next two and a half years foreign governments would know
that they were dealing with a lame-duck President. All our initiatives would be
dead in the water, and I wouldn’t be able to implement your foreign policy. It
would probably have the same consequences in dealing with <225
USPQ 1088> the Congress on domestic issues. You can’t reassert the
authority of the Presidency if you leave yourself hanging out on a dead limb.
You’ve got to be an affirmative President.”
On David
Kennerly, the White House photographer. Schlesinger was arguing with Kissinger and Ford over the
appropriate response to the seizure of the Mayaguez. At issue was
whether airstrikes against the Cambodians were desirable; Schlesinger was
opposed to bombings. Following a lull in the conversation, Ford reports, up
spoke the 30-year-old White House photographer, David Kennerly, who had been
taking pictures for the last hour.
“Has anyone
considered,” Kennerly asked, “that this might be the act of a local Cambodian
commander who has just taken it into his own hands to stop any ship that comes
by?” Nobody, apparently, had considered it, but following several seconds of
silence, Ford tells us, the view carried the day “Massive airstrikes would
constitute overkill,” Ford decided. “It would be far better to have Navy
jets from the Coral Sea make surgical strikes against specific targets.”23
<471
U.S. 578> On
Nixon’s Character.Nixon’s flaw, according to Ford, was “pride.”
“A terribly proud man,” writes Ford, “he detested weakness in other
people. I’d often heard him speak disparagingly of those whom he felt to be
soft and expedient. (Curiously, he didn’t feel that the press was weak.
Reporters, he sensed, were his adversaries. He knew they didn’t like him, and
he responded with reciprocal disdain.)24
Nixon felt
disdain for the Democratic leadership of the House, whom he also regarded as weak.
According to Ford, “His pride and personal contempt for weakness had
overcome his ability to tell the difference between right and wrong.”25 all of which leads Ford
to wonder whether Nixon had known in advance about Watergate.
On hearing
Nixon’s resignation speech, which Ford felt lacked an adequate plea for
forgiveness, he was persuaded that “Nixon was out of touch with reality.”26
In February of
last year, when The Washington Post obtained and printed advance
excerpts from H.R. Haldeman’s memoir, The Ends of Power, on the eve of
its publication by Times Books, The New York Times called The Post’s feat
“a second-rate burglary.”
The Post disagreed, claiming that its coup
represented “first-rate enterprise” and arguing that it had burglarized
nothing, that publication of the Haldeman memoir came under the Fair Comment
doctrine long recognized by the <471 U.S. 579>
courts, and that “There is a fundamental journalistic principle here – a
First Amendment principle that was central to the Pentagon Papers case.”
In the issue of The
Nation dated May 5, 1979, our special Spring Books number, we will discuss
some of the ethical problems raised by the issue of disclosure.
1 I was
angry at myself for showing cowardice in not saying to the ultraconservatives,
“It’s going to be Ford and Rockefeller, whatever the consequences.” p. 496.
2 [I]t
contained the so-called smoking gun. p. 3.
3 [O]ver
the past several months Nixon had repeatedly assured me that he was not
involved in Watergate, that the evidence would prove his innocence, that the
matter would fade from view. p. 7.
4 The
first [option] was that he could try to “ride it out” by letting impeachment
take its natural course through the House and the Senate trial, fighting
against conviction all the way. p. 4.
5
Finally, Haig said that according to some on Nixon’s White House staff, Nixon
could agree to leave in return for an agreement that the new President –
Gerald Ford – would pardon him. p. 5.
6 Because
of his references to pardon authority, I did ask Haig about the extent of a
President’s pardon power. pp. 5-6.
7 Only
after I had finished did [Bryce Harlow] let me know in no uncertain terms that
he agreed with Bob and Jack, that the mere mention of the pardon option could
cause a lot of trouble in the days ahead. p. 18
8 During
the luncheon I repeated my assertion that the President was not guilty of an
impeachable offense. Had I said otherwise at that moment, the whole house of
cards might have collapsed. p. 21.
9 But
compassion for Nixon as an individual hadn’t prompted my decision at all. p.
266.
10 I had
to get the monkey off my back one way or another. p. 236.
11
Jaworski gave Phil several crucial pieces of information. p. 246.
12 And if
the verdict was Guilty, one had to assume that Nixon would appeal. That process
would take years. p. 248.
13 The
entire process would no doubt require years: a minimum of two, a maximum of
six. And Nixon would not spend time quietly in San Clemente. p. 238.
14 It
would be virtually impossible for me to direct public attention on anything
else. p. 239.
15 But
[Miller], wasn’t optimistic about getting such a statement. His few meetings
with his client had shown him that the former President’s ability to discuss
Watergate objectively was almost nonexistent. p. 246.
16 When
Zeigler asked Becker what he thought of it, Becker replied that no statement
would be better than that. p. 251.
17 Years
before, at Yale Law School, I’d learned that public policy often took
precedence over a rule of law. Although I respected the tenet that no man
should be above the law, public policy demanded that I put Nixon – and
Watergate – behind us as quickly as possible. p. 256.
18 My
staff debated whether or not I ought to visit Nixon at the Long Beach Hospital,
only half an hour away. If I made the trip, it would remind everyone of
Watergate and the pardon. If I didn’t, people would say I lacked compassion. I
ended their debate as soon as I found out it had begun. Of course I would go.
p. 298.
19 He was
stretched out flat on his back. There were tubes in his nose and mouth, and
wires led from his arms, chest and legs to machines with orange lights that
blinked on and off. His face was ashen, and I thought I had never seen anyone
closer to death. p. 299.
20
“Henry,” I said when he came on the line, “I need you. The country needs you. I
want you to stay. I’ll do everything I can to work with you.” p. 46.
21 “We’ll
get along,” I said. “I know we can get along.” We talked about the two hats he
wore, as Secretary of State and National Security Advisor to the President. “I
don’t want to make any change,” I said. “I think it’s worked out well, so let’s
keep it that way.” p. 46.
22 I told
him about my promise to Betty and said that I had no ambitions to hold office
after January 1977. p. 155.
23
Subjectively, I felt that what Kennerly had said made a lot of sense. Massive
airstrikes would constitute overkill. It would be far better to have Navy jets
from the Coral Sea make surgical strikes against specific targets in the
vicinity of Kompong Som. p. 416
24 In Nixon’s
case, that flaw was pride. A terribly proud man, he detested weakness in other
people. I’d often heard him speak disparagingly of those whom he felt to be
soft and expedient. (Curiously, he didn’t feel that the press was weak.
Reporters, he sensed, were his adversaries. He knew they didn’t like him, and
he responded with reciprocal disdain.) p. 53.
25 His
pride and personal contempt for weakness had overcome his ability to tell the
difference between right and wrong. p. 54.
26 The
speech lasted fifteen minutes, and at the end I was convinced Nixon was out of
touch with reality. p. 57.