RICHARD NIXONISM—IT JUST WON’T LET ME GO!

By Edwin Cooney

If you’ve ever been in a play or part of a musical production, then you’ll understand what I mean when I tell you that I’m suffering from (I’ll come right out and say it) “Richard Nixonism”. During the past several weeks, I’ve been preparing a lecture which I called “Richard Nixon: a President without an anchor.”

I delivered that lecture last Tuesday night on Accessibleworld.org, a website dedicated to providing intellectual growth and educational enhancement to all who choose to utilize it. Its director, Mr. Bob Acosta, has been generously encouraging, patient, kind, and highly complimentary to me. For this particular discussion, I wanted to delve into the life and times of a man whose political and public career touched the lives of anyone born between, say, 1890 and 1960.

My task, as I saw it, was to offer the audience my conclusion that Richard Nixon’s fate came about largely because he possessed little doctrine and insufficient spiritual guidance to adequately anchor his actions. Nixon’s life and career were largely governed by lessons learned through personal experiences and politics.

One of the earliest lessons young Richard learned was the first law of survival: get up when you fall down. That’s what three-year-old Richard did after falling off the lap of a neighbor lady when the buggy his mother was driving took too sharp a turn rounding a curve. The little fellow tumbled toward the dirt road and blood streamed over the top of his head, but the boy was immediately on his feet running toward the buggy before it came to a full stop. He nearly bled to death during the twenty-five mile ride to the nearest doctor.

Another lesson young Nixon learned was that the elite (or “better born”) would always be privileged over those whom he’d eventually refer to as “the great silent majority of Americans.” Dick Nixon would find elitists in such places as Whittier College, the US Department of State, the CIA and, worst of all, in the media -- especially the left wing of the Democratic party.

Murray Chotiner, the man Nixon hired in 1946 as his first campaign manager, was also a teacher of lessons. Chotiner, a somewhat unsavory lawyer and political PR hand, advised Nixon to define his political opponent in the public mind before that opponent defined him. Voters, Chotiner told Nixon, don’t vote for you, they vote against you or your opponent. Defining and thus diminishing one’s opponent, Nixon learned, was easily as important as the issues in any political race.

The next lesson, which was little known until much later, was that if you are important enough there will be a public outcry if someone breaks into your campaign headquarters. Until then, no one is going to feel sorry for you. For example, in the early spring of 1946, Dick and his wife Pat had stocked their congressional campaign headquarters with what they hoped was sufficient literature to begin making headway in their campaign for Congress. The young couple had put their entire life savings (including Nixon’s wartime poker winnings and Pat’s inheritance) into these purchases. One morning, when they arrived at the office, all was gone. The place had been burglarized -- and the burglary was never solved.

Finally, Richard Milhous Nixon learned that if you’re rich, well connected, and clever enough (or if you happened to hold a sufficiently high place in the government), you can skirt the domain of the law so long as you’re not caught breaking the law. He also noted that someone who was young, handsome, rich, and running for the presidency in a close race didn’t need to break the law to win -- a big city mayor would do it instead (ala JFK in 1960). Covering up your administration’s role in a bungled foreign policy venture is no crime if you’re careful — Camelot lasted for two-and-half years after President Kennedy covered up the Bay of Pigs fiasco in April of 1961. If the Kennedy Administration could be forgiven for the murder of South Vietnamese President Diem (which weakened our efforts in Southeast Asia thereby continuing the war for ten more years), how could it be a sin for Nixon to take a mere five years to Vietnamize that war to win it “with honor”? If LBJ could bug Nixon’s offices in 1968 (according to FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover) wasn’t the Democratic headquarters in 1972 fair game? Finally, if he wasn’t “exposed”, Senator Edward M. Kennedy would get away with the death of young Mary Jo Kopechne — he could even become President at Nixon’s expense! The result of this speculation was—you guessed it—Watergate.

As time went on and his experience in international affairs increased, Richard Nixon abandoned his strict anti-communism stance in favor of a more pragmatic outlook. China was a factor beyond moral outrage and had to be recognized. As Churchill recognized the evil Stalin, Nixon would find it practical to recognize Mao Tse-Tung -- ruthless as he was. Dedicated to his “saintly” mother’s ideal of world peace, Richard Nixon saw America’s honor and reputation throughout the world as key to achieving peace.

So here I am, suffering from a bad case of Nixon withdrawal. Interest in the life and times of Richard Nixon is a bad but compelling habit. Like drinking and smoking, fascination with Mr. Nixon is almost chronic. Even when you think you’ve beaten it, Richard Nixonism like its namesake gets up when it falls down.

Hmm! I wonder if, after all these years, “Richard Nixonism” is contagious!

RESPECTFULLY SUBMITTED,

EDWIN COONEY