Nixon's Secret (43 page)

* * *

Despite his years of preparation, Nixon’s renomination at the 1968 Republican National Convention in Miami Beach was, as the Duke of Wellington said at Waterloo, “a close-run thing.”

Nixon correctly foresaw the collapse of George Romney’s campaign and was always apprehensive about the maneuvers of Nelson Rockefeller, the one man with the money to deny him the presidency. Still, Rockefeller was indecisive in times requiring bold moves, and Nixon always knew Reagan was the most likely competitor to stop his bid for another shot at the ultimate prize.

Thanks to the best campaign team in contemporary US politics, the Nixon who approached the 1968 Republican nomination was very differently positioned than he was in 1960. But the GOP was not the party he led to defeat in 1960, either.

Until 1964, Nixon did not grasp the extent power in the Republican Party had shifted from the Eastern/Wall Street wing of the party to the Sunbelt conservatives. It was a hard-learned lesson: in 1960 he tried to tailor his national candidacy to the establishment by letting Rockefeller dictate the party platform and taking Brahmin Henry Cabot Lodge as his running mate. Even with Goldwater’s name being put forward for president prematurely at the 1960 convention, Nixon didn’t yet recognize the conservative tidal wave to come. In 1962, he offended California’s right wing by denouncing the notorious John Birch Society. While he still won the Republican primary for governor, a right-wing oilman, Assemblyman Joe Shell, ran well against him. Nixon knew right-wingers sat on their hands and watched him lose to Pat Brown by almost three hundred thousand votes.

Nixon’s maneuvering in late 1963 and early 1964, when he tried and failed to urge party moderates into blocking Goldwater without leaving his own fingerprints, also carried with it the false assumption that party moderates could actually stop the Arizona senator. It was a fool’s errand. Standing at that convention podium, Nixon finally saw the fervor of the delegates who nominated Goldwater and their loud remonstrations against Nelson Rockefeller, the preeminent symbol of the party’s Eastern establishment. At that moment, watching the boisterous delegates, he realized the Republican base had shifted from beneath party moderates.

John Mitchell and Richard Kleindienst would build a formidable national organization that would sweep the primaries, clinch the nominations, and defeat the Democrats in the fall.

Kleindienst would note in his memoirs that “[i]n putting together the delegate field force I turned to my former coworkers in the 1964 Goldwater delegate campaign. I chose those I thought most effective. First on board were Dick Herman from Omaha and Bob Mardian from Pasadena. In addition to taking over the Midwest and the western regions for us, they were responsible for recruiting other regional directors and state chairman. It wasn’t long before the whole field organization was in place. For some strange reason
The
New York Times
and the Washington Post—not exactly Nixon or Goldwater supporters—never picked up the fact that the Nixon delegate operation was composed mainly of persons who were part of the Goldwater field operation.”
26

An interesting book on Nixon’s impact on the modern-day political culture, Rick Perlstein’s
Nixonland
, claims Nixon’s 1968 campaign was rocked by Ronald Reagan’s late entry into the race and a Reagan-Rockefeller alliance to deny him victory on the first Miami Beach ballot. This is wrong: Rockefeller was never a threat from the left; Nixon feared Reagan from the right. Still, he eyed the Manhattan millionaire warily.

In fact, the Nixon team’s meticulous preparation would ensure that Reagan, despite his formidable talents at persuasion and the growing affection for him on the Republican right, could not pry the nomination loose from the former vice president.

Just as he had in 1960, Nixon regarded New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller as a potential rival for the 1968 nomination. Rockefeller counted on Romney to block Nixon’s early ascent, but harbored ambitions to enter the race himself. Shockingly, Rockefeller prepared to enter the race after the early collapse of Romney, who stumbled badly after claiming that US military figures had “brainwashed” him over the war in Vietnam. The comment killed his campaign.
27

Romney campaigned aggressively in New Hampshire while the supremely organized Nixon paced himself, visiting the Granite State only three times. Polls indicated Romney faced certain and decisive defeat, so he withdrew. Since it was too late to remove his name from the primary ballot, Nixon swamped the governor badly.

A hastily organized Rockefeller write-in for New Hampshire failed miserably, too, but afterward the millionaire appeared to step into Romney’s role as the foil to Richard Nixon. His campaign moved forward under the appearance of a national draft effort directed by Maryland Governor Spiro T. Agnew. The draft failed to gain steam, but that didn’t dampen Agnew’s enthusiastic support. The national press corps was certain that Rockefeller was preparing to join the fray and openly challenge Nixon. Rockefeller did nothing to dispel this perception when he scheduled a televised press conference. The reporters were stunned at Rockefeller’s surprise announcement that “a majority of Republicans favor the candidacy of former Vice President Richard Nixon” and that he would not run. Rockefeller’s announcement would hit like a bomb. Journalist Dennis Wainstock would describe the scene:

“Rockefeller had failed to give Spiro Agnew, head of the national draft Rockefeller headquarters in Annapolis, advance notice. ‘Rockefeller had a list of people he was to call before making his announcement,’ recalled [Rockefeller aide Emmett John] Huges. But Rockefeller’s public relations adviser, Ted Braun, insisted that ‘it would just upset you to have these conversations before you go into your press conference.’ Agnew had invited the press to his office to watch what he expected to be Rockefeller’s announcement of candidacy. After hearing Rockefeller’s withdrawal, observers noted, Agnew ‘just sat there frozen . . . saw his jaw open slightly for a second,’ and ‘a kind of barely perceptible sick grin came over his face for an instant.’ ‘it made Agnew look like a total fool,’ recalled Huges. ‘He never forgave ‘Rocky’ for it.’”
28

According to author Jules Whitcover, Rockefeller’s grave error threw a window of opportunity wide open for Nixon:

“Agnew’s disappointment and humiliation were not lost on the Nixon camp. John Sears, the young lawyer in Nixon’s law firm who was serving as a principal delegate-hunter, was in Alaska at the time, courting Governor Walter Hickel. As Sears recalled the situation later:

“Nixon was going crazy thinking Rockefeller was getting into the race, so I told him I’d go up to Alaska and get Hickel to come out for him. He’d been for Romney, and Nixon had been mad at him over that.

“So I called up Milhous and said, ‘One thing you’ve got to do, is call up this guy Agnew.’ He thought Agnew was a Rockefeller guy so he was fighting me over it, which made you feel pretty good, because if he was fighting over it, it meant he was probably going to do it. But he didn’t like the idea. I told him, ‘Look, if you’re even seen with the guy in the next week, it’ll do a lot.’”
29

The relationship between Nixon and his vice president, Spiro T. Agnew, is a curious one that bears analysis. Agnew was considered a “moderate Republican” largely because his opponent in the 1966 governor’s race had been segregationist George Mahoney. Mahoney’s campaign slogan was “a man’s home is his castle.” Mahoney won the Democratic primary in a multi-candidate field. Agnew, the Baltimore County executive, was able to cobble together a coalition of blacks, Republicans, Jews, and liberal Democrats to beat Mahoney. When Baltimore’s city erupted with racial violence, Agnew took a surprisingly hard line, which was noted among party conservatives including Nixon.

Despite the elaborate deception of Nixon “consulting” party leaders, John Sears told columnist Jules Witcover that Agnew had been selected several weeks before the convention. Agnew solved a problem for Nixon. Nixon needed a united party to have any kind of shot in 1968. Agnew was acceptable to party liberals like Rockefeller, Javits, Scranton, Congressman John Lindsay, and George Romney. Agnew was also acceptable to Strom Thurman and Barry Goldwater. Nixon’s circle of advisors, including Sears and Buchanan, all favored Reagan. Nixon had no intention of being overshadowed by his running mate. Speechwriter Richard Whalen pushed Oregon Senator Mark Hatfield, who was becoming a vocal opponent of the Vietnam War. This was a nonstarter because of Nixon’s cultivated strength in the South.

Then Nixon focused on Massachusetts Governor John Volpe. Volpe would have been a naked grab with the Catholic vote, and Volpe would have been the first Italian-American nominee for the national ticket. Instead, Nixon split the difference and took Agnew. It was to be a blunder almost as great as his bum selection of Henry Cabot Lodge in 1960. It is important to note that Agnew was a handsome man, always elegantly tailored and carefully groomed. He made a good first impression, but he was a political amateur who found it hard to adjust to the pressure cooker of a national campaign.

Nixon’s initially misread Agnew. “There can be a mystique about the man,” Nixon assured reporters. “You can look him in the eyes and know he’s got it.”
30
Nixon’s assessment of Agnew would later change. He told me Agnew was “well meaning” but a “dope.” Nixon had no qualms, though, about selecting Agnew because he had no intention of committing himself to the proposition that Agnew would be his successor as president or even the presidential nominee of the Republican Party.

Agnew stumbled through a series of gaffes early in his campaigning, but Nixon, ever mindful of the way Eisenhower undercut him as presidential candidate, remained supportive. Agnew’s appearances were focused on Southern and border states, where he proved to be somewhat effective, limiting the defection of white conservatives to Wallace.

Nixon, later froze Agnew out of any other policy or political role other than that of attack dog in the new administration. He did, however, assemble a talented staff that included longtime Bush associate Roy Goodearle, press secretary Vick Gold, special assistant David A. Keene, who had been national chairman of Young Americans for Freedom, and scheduler John Damgard. Sears would have charted Agnew’s grab for the 1976 nomination if Agnew had survived.

Nixon used Agnew as much as Eisenhower had used him to attack the president’s critics on the left. Due to this, Agnew gained a substantial following of the right wing of the party. He decorated the media, the academics, and the hippies. In 1970 he took the lead in attacking the Senate Democrats as “radic-libs” or “radical liberals.” Agnew did agitate against some of the more progressive policies of the Nixon administration, such as the Family Assistance Plan. After 1964, though, Nixon was always cognizant of his right flank. He was glad when the FAP—a proposal of Daniel Patrick Moynihan—went down in the Senate, but unlike Agnew, Nixon understood optics. At the same time Nixon was furious when Agnew spoke up at an NSC meeting about his opposition to the president’s proposed opening to China.

* * *

Nixon and Agnew met soon in New York City, and both men walked away impressed. While he didn’t leave the Rockefeller camp immediately, the Maryland governor made clear signals he was looking favorably upon Nixon. Nixon would ask Agnew to give his nominating speech, and to the surprise of virtually everyone Spiro T. “Ted” Agnew would end up as Nixon’s vice presidential running mate and the vice president of the United States. He would resign after pleading
nolo contendere
to charges of accepting bribes and cheating on his taxes in 1974. Agnew would tell me he was set up to be moved out of the line of presidential succession and would make this compelling case in his own book

Rockefeller and Nixon were cordial rivals since Rocky was elected governor of the Empire State in 1958. When Rockefeller was assistant secretary of state for Latin American affairs under President Dwight Eisenhower, he shared Nixon’s conviction that Castro was a Communist and had to go. Rockefeller was probably even more deeply concerned than Nixon because of his family’s vast Latin American holdings in countries where Castro was seeking to export Marxism and nationalize industries and land holdings.

The Dartmouth-educated Rockefeller had deep ties to the Eastern establishment and was close to the pillars of that community, the Dulles brothers, John Hay “Jock” Whitney, John McCloy, Walter Thayer, Henry Luce, the Cowles brothers, and Tom Dewey. He also had close ties to the CIA; he made his Latin American business available to the agency as a front. Nixon and Rockefeller were friendly prior to Rocky’s big governor win in 1958. Rockefeller weighed a challenge to the two-term sitting vice president in 1960, but former Republican National Chairman Len Hall and the cagy, dapper Tom Dewey convinced him not to run.

“I would have put Dewey on the Supreme Court. Hell, I would have made him Chief Justice if he’d have taken it. An enormously able man,” Nixon told me over dinner in his Saddle River home after we split a bottle of Chateaubriand. “Hell, he got Rocky out, but by the time I offered Dewey the slot after ‘68, he thought he was too old.”

Rocky made a half-hearted effort on Nixon’s behalf in New York State in 1960. Nixon refused to concede the state to Kennedy, and baseball great Jackie Robinson campaigned with Nixon in New York City, while running mate Henry Cabot Lodge did a late tour of upstate hitting Syracuse, Rochester, and Buffalo. Rocky later earned the enmity and hatred of the party’s right wing when he openly sought to block Goldwater’s nomination in ‘64 and linked the Arizona Senator with “extremists” like the John Birch Society and the Ku Klux Klan.

Nixon was leery of Rockefeller throughout his career. He knew the governor, like the Kennedys, paid large salaries to extraordinarily talented and capable staffers and that he had access to the highest reaches of the New York
Herald-Tribune
, the voice of liberal Republicanism of the time.