September 8, 1974—A national obsession with Richard Nixon’s possible prosecution for Watergate led his successor, President Gerald Ford, to pardon him for the period from his inauguration to his final day in office.
A Web site devoted to Watergate includes a tab for “Casualties.” It could easily have included Ford’s honeymoon with the media and any chance of his remaining in the White House.
During his televised address to the American people, Ford offered several justifications for his move:
* The allegations were "threatening his health as he tries to reframe his life"—a reference to Nixon’s life-threatening bout of phlebitis;
A Web site devoted to Watergate includes a tab for “Casualties.” It could easily have included Ford’s honeymoon with the media and any chance of his remaining in the White House.
During his televised address to the American people, Ford offered several justifications for his move:
* The allegations were "threatening his health as he tries to reframe his life"—a reference to Nixon’s life-threatening bout of phlebitis;
* The possibility that Nixon would either be unable to receive a fair trial because of publicity—or that appeals courts would so rule.
* The mental suffering that Nixon and his family had already endured.
Much of the anger over the pardon could have been dissipated if Nixon had made a full admission of his crimes in accepting the deal. Unfortunately, the disgraced ex-President refused to go that route, only admitting to “not acting more decisively and more forthrightly in dealing with Watergate.”
This enabled him, for the remaining two decades of his life, to bob and weave over his responsibility for the scandal through a variety of books and interviews, all with the purpose of resurrecting himself as an elder statesman.
Over the last dozen years, a variety of politicians, journalists and historians—even, surprisingly, those from the liberal side of the spectrum such as Ted Kennedy, Douglas Brinkley, and Bob Woodward—have changed their views on the pardon, considering it a good thing.
The most influential of these reassessments, in my opinion, was that of journalist-historian Richard Reeves, who, in his 1970s book, A Ford, Not A Lincoln, had introduced considerable evidence to the effect that a deal had been in the works between Nixon and Ford aides to bring about the pardon before Nixon’s resignation.
By 1996, however, in an American Heritage article, Reeves signaled his change of heart with his headline: “I’m Sorry, Mr. President.”
Over the last dozen years, a variety of politicians, journalists and historians—even, surprisingly, those from the liberal side of the spectrum such as Ted Kennedy, Douglas Brinkley, and Bob Woodward—have changed their views on the pardon, considering it a good thing.
The most influential of these reassessments, in my opinion, was that of journalist-historian Richard Reeves, who, in his 1970s book, A Ford, Not A Lincoln, had introduced considerable evidence to the effect that a deal had been in the works between Nixon and Ford aides to bring about the pardon before Nixon’s resignation.
By 1996, however, in an American Heritage article, Reeves signaled his change of heart with his headline: “I’m Sorry, Mr. President.”
Partisan carnage and the O.J. Simpson media circus in the 1990s led him to take more seriously a contention Ford made in conversation with him two decades before: in Reeves’ paraphrased, it “would have been impossible to govern the country if there had been open charges against Nixon, that the television-focused attention of the nation would have followed the disgraced President from courtroom to courtroom.”
That, I think, might be the most compelling reason for the pardon, but it hardly clinches the matter in favor of Ford.
That, I think, might be the most compelling reason for the pardon, but it hardly clinches the matter in favor of Ford.
The lack of a full confession from Nixon deprived historians of the chance to settle a variety of matters that they have debated over the years—not just Nixon’s responsibility for the cover-up (nobody but die-hard kooks believe otherwise these days), but, just as important, whether he authorized the break-in at Watergate to begin with. (My own feeling on the latter is that such a micromanager must have done so.)
One last aspect of the deal that has gotten less attention over the years but that Don Fulsom has noted in “Nixon’s Greatest Trick”: the great deal that Ford was prepared to give him regarding his papers and tapes, as well as $800,000 funds for transitional purposes.
The Democratic-controlled Congress slashed the latter request to only $200,000, but the paper-and-tapes deal would have been far more problematic. Essentially, it would have enabled the man who created the 18 1/2 –minute tap on one of his crucial conversations in charge of safeguarding for posterity all his records.
One last aspect of the deal that has gotten less attention over the years but that Don Fulsom has noted in “Nixon’s Greatest Trick”: the great deal that Ford was prepared to give him regarding his papers and tapes, as well as $800,000 funds for transitional purposes.
The Democratic-controlled Congress slashed the latter request to only $200,000, but the paper-and-tapes deal would have been far more problematic. Essentially, it would have enabled the man who created the 18 1/2 –minute tap on one of his crucial conversations in charge of safeguarding for posterity all his records.
Fortunately, Congress stymied the papers-deal accord, and the National Archives was given responsibility for it, as it should have been all along.
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