Capitolo 1
The Enigma of American Politics: Richard Nixon
Richard Nixon remains one of the most fascinating and polarizing figures in American political history. John A. Farrell's definitive biography peels back the layers of this complex man whose political career spanned the most tumultuous decades of the 20th century. From his meteoric rise as a young congressman hunting Communists to his dramatic fall during Watergate, Nixon's story reads like a Shakespearean tragedy-a tale of remarkable talent and fatal flaws. The book has earned widespread acclaim for its nuanced portrayal, with The New York Times calling it "the defining portrait of a man who embodied postwar America's darkest impulses and most conflicted impulses." Even former opponents acknowledge its fairness-Ted Kennedy once remarked that understanding Nixon was essential to understanding ourselves. As we navigate today's divided political landscape, Nixon's journey offers striking parallels and cautionary lessons about ambition, power, and the fragile nature of democratic institutions.
Capitolo 2
The Dragon Slayer: Nixon's Unlikely Rise
In summer 1945, Lieutenant Richard Nixon arrived at the Glenn L. Martin Company complex near Baltimore to handle contract settlements during post-war demobilization. During walks to the officers' mess, Nixon confided to his colleague about an unexpected invitation to run for Congress against five-term incumbent Jerry Voorhis. "I'm not a politician," Nixon confessed. "I probably would be defeated." Yet behind this hesitation lay a man of sharp analytical mind, remarkable memory, and fierce self-discipline-all driven by an underlying yearning for greatness.
Nixon's path to politics was unlikely. Though he'd shown early political aptitude in school elections, financial constraints had denied him Harvard or Yale, forcing him to attend small Whittier College while working at his father's grocery store. Despite graduating with honors from Duke Law School, he failed to secure positions with prestigious firms, eventually taking work at a modest local law office. His first major case ended in disaster. His marriage to Pat, a spirited beauty who recognized his potential, proved his greatest personal success.
The congressional opportunity came through Herman Perry, vice president of Whittier's Bank of America branch, who had helped Nixon's family survive the Depression through bank loans. Perry saw in Nixon the fulfillment of his own unfulfilled ambitions. Behind Perry stood Don Lycan, a Signal Oil & Gas vice president seeking to unseat Voorhis, whose leftist policies angered California's business interests.
Nixon's campaign emerged through an ad hoc "Committee of 100" organized by Roy Day, a 44-year-old advertising salesman disgusted with Republican complacency. The committee sought a young, educated, married veteran willing to campaign aggressively. Nixon impressed them at three appearances, speaking about "practical liberalism" that balanced government action with free enterprise principles.
Though Nixon spoke publicly about offering a "constructive program," he privately developed a more aggressive strategy. After meeting with Republican Party researchers in Washington, Nixon reported that the capital's "fellow travelers" were "wild about" Voorhis. Though acknowledging Voorhis was no Communist, Nixon planned to portray him as a Red dupe through guilt by association, writing that "I believe we can make Mr. Voorhis sweat."
Nixon's message of economic liberty resonated with Southern California conservatives who felt ignored by Washington's elite. His humble origins-"His father wasn't a millionaire-he had a little store"-connected with voters who saw him as authentic, "one of us." Supporters volunteered enthusiastically in what Kathryn Bewley called a campaign of "friendship and love." Nixon cultivated local newspaper editors, stopping by with publicity kits and promises of advertising, knowing that favorable coverage often followed paid ads in small-town papers.
The turning point came at a September forum in South Pasadena. When Voorhis demanded proof of Nixon's allegations about Communist sympathies, Nixon theatrically crossed the stage and thrust a political action committee endorsement list into Voorhis's hands. As Voorhis sputtered about distinctions between organizations, Nixon masterfully read aloud names of individuals who served in both groups, concluding they were "one and the same." Nixon's supporters erupted while Voorhis appeared flustered. Democrat Chet Holifield told Voorhis afterward, "Jerry, he murdered you."
On Election Day, Nixon rode the national Republican wave to a decisive victory, capturing 56 percent of votes. After briefly fearing defeat based on early returns, the Nixons celebrated at victory parties, with Dick later recalling that he and Pat "were happier than we were ever to be again in my political career." When asked about his campaign tactics by a Voorhis adviser, Nixon admitted: "Of course I knew Jerry Voorhis wasn't a Communist," but insisted "I had to win. That's something you don't understand. The important thing was to win." Nixon was now headed to Congress, beginning a meteoric rise that would make him a senator in four years and vice president in six.
Capitolo 3
As American as Thanksgiving: The Making of Nixon
The thirty-four-year-old congressman who arrived in Washington in 1946 drew immediate press attention. With his trim frame, pretty wife, and golden-haired daughter, Nixon presented an image "typically American as Thanksgiving." Yet beneath this wholesome exterior lay a complex personality shaped by hardship.
Born January 9, 1913, in Yorba Linda, Nixon's early life was marked by struggle. His father Frank, who had fled home without finishing grade school, worked various jobs from shepherd to carpenter. His mother Hannah, from a family of Irish Quakers, was quiet and reserved. Their marriage seemed an act of escape for both.
The Nixon household of five sons faced constant financial pressure. Frank was temperamental and harsh with discipline, while Hannah employed emotional distance through her "silent treatment." Nixon inherited traits from both parents - his mother's introversion and his father's explosive temper. In games, he was a poor loser who insisted on setting rules and threw tantrums when defeated.
Two tragic deaths shaped Nixon's youth. In 1925, his beloved brother Arthur died suddenly from tubercular meningitis. The twelve-year-old Richard faced this loss with characteristic stoicism. Then his eldest brother Harold's prolonged battle with tuberculosis ended in death during Nixon's junior year at college. His mother believed Richard's intense drive stemmed from survivor's guilt - "trying to be three sons in one."
Despite offers from Harvard and Yale, Nixon attended Whittier College, working pre-dawn hours at his family's grocery store. Though some mocked "the grocer's boy," many admired his determination. When excluded from an elite campus society, he formed the rival Orthogonians club for outsiders, adopting the motto "Beans, Brains, Brawn and Bowels."
These early experiences fostered a deep resentment toward those who had it easy through good looks, wealth, or charm. Confidants later searched for formative trauma to explain his difficult personality, with some psychoanalysts identifying traits of narcissistic personality - marked by grandiose goals, low self-esteem, and a profound sense of worthlessness.
Capitolo 4
Death, God, Love, and War: Nixon's Crucible
In the aftermath of Harold's death, Nixon undertook a profound spiritual reckoning through a provocative senior-year philosophy course. He "field-stripped his faith," rejecting the fundamentalist beliefs of his childhood while seeking to reconcile the cruelty of the universe with his religious upbringing. "Many of those childhood ideas have been destroyed," he wrote in his class journal. Nixon emerged with a deistic worldview that retained reverence for Christ's teachings while rejecting supernatural elements: "It may be true that the Resurrection story is a myth, but symbolically it teaches the great lesson that men who achieve the highest values in their lives may gain immortality."
Nixon entered Duke Law School in 1934 at age twenty-one, studying furiously and graduating near the top of his class despite financial struggles. Living in spartan conditions-including a cabin in the woods with no electricity or indoor plumbing-Nixon persevered through sheer determination, though some peers found him unpleasant and nicknamed him "Gloomy Gus."
Despite graduating third in his class from Duke in 1937, Nixon failed to secure employment with New York law firms, and his FBI application fell through bureaucratic cracks. Back home at twenty-four with diminished prospects, he joined Wingert & Bewley law firm at his mother's arrangement, earning just $50 monthly. His early legal career proved difficult-he bungled his first major case by naively taking advice from opposing counsel, resulting in a $4,800 malpractice settlement.
Nixon met Patricia Ryan at a local theater group in early 1938, where both landed bit parts requiring onstage flirtation. Immediately smitten, Nixon pursued her relentlessly despite repeated rejections. "Don't laugh," he told her after a second rebuff, "someday I'm going to marry you." Pat, a sophisticated strawberry blonde who had lived in New York and worked her way through USC, found Nixon's courtship bizarre-he introduced her to his parents days after meeting her, slipped notes under her door, and drove her to Los Angeles for dates with other men.
Despite their different temperaments, they shared similar backgrounds-both grew up on farms with volatile fathers and mollifying mothers, both excelled academically, and both carried chips on their shoulders about class. Pat eventually recognized Nixon's ambition: "He was going places, and he always saw the possibilities." After two years of persistent courtship, she accepted his proposal in March 1940.
After their marriage, the Nixons had barely a year of normal life before war preparations changed everything. When offered a job as a staff attorney at the Office of Price Administration in Washington, he accepted with Pat's encouragement. They arrived in Washington in January 1942, a month after Pearl Harbor. Nixon lasted only three months at the OPA, disliking the bureaucratic infighting and leftist orientation. Despite having draft exemptions, he enlisted in the Navy, recognizing that military service would be valuable for his future ambitions.
Nixon arrived in the South Pacific after the fiercest battle of the Solomons campaign at Guadalcanal had ended. Initially in rear-echelon safety with the South Pacific Air Transport Command (SCAT), he persuaded his superiors to send him "up the line" to Guadalcanal, Vella Lavella, and eventually to the front at Bougainville, where he experienced Japanese artillery attacks. On Bougainville, his hut was destroyed by shelling while he huddled in a foxhole. Fellow officers noted his dual personality-quiet and morose in normal times, but electrified and decisive under pressure.
Pat remained in the States, eventually working as an analyst for the OPA. Their wartime correspondence reveals a loving couple weathering separation. "All of me loves all of you all the time," Dick wrote, insecure about his romantic appeal: "I certainly am not the Romeo type and you are so beautiful." Before shipping out, he prepared a will leaving everything to Pat and even encouraging her remarriage should he die. The war's end found them in the East, where Nixon was studying federal contracting laws when they heard of Roosevelt's death. Soon after, a letter from Herman Perry would change their lives.
Capitolo 5
A Tragedy of History: The Hiss Case
Nixon's pursuit of Alger Hiss began in August 1948 when Whittaker Chambers, a former Communist turned Time editor, testified before HUAC that Hiss had been part of a Soviet spy ring. Hiss, a distinguished State Department official, adamantly denied knowing Chambers.
While Chambers appeared "unkempt" and "soft-spoken" in his testimony, Nixon saw potential in the case when Chambers revealed he had previously reported Hiss to the government without result. When Hiss testified, his sophisticated demeanor won over the press and public, with President Truman dismissing the investigation as a "red herring."
Nixon persisted despite committee doubts, aided by insider information from Father John Cronin, who served as his connection to FBI agents. Nixon's motivation stemmed partly from political opportunity, but more personally from his reaction to Hiss's elitism and condescension toward the committee.
Three key HUAC hearings proved decisive. In a closed session, Hiss was confronted with intimate details Chambers knew about his life, forcing him to admit knowing Chambers as "George Crosley." A dramatic face-to-face confrontation followed at the Commodore Hotel, culminating in a nationally televised hearing where Chambers declared they were "close friends, but caught in a tragedy of history."
The case reached its climax when Chambers revealed hidden evidence - the "pumpkin papers" - microfilmed documents and typed notes Hiss had allegedly provided to Soviet intelligence. This led to Hiss's indictment for perjury, while Chambers was spared as a key witness.
The Hiss case became a defining moment that united various Republican factions - from Taft's Old Guard to young intellectuals like William F. Buckley Jr. It amplified conservative suspicions about treason in government and antipathy toward elite institutions. Most significantly, it launched Nixon's ascent to the U.S. Senate, marking both his and Chambers' lives permanently in what became a symbolic clash between Communism and Freedom.
Capitolo 6
The Pink Lady: Nixon vs. Helen Gahagan Douglas
The 1950 Senate race between Nixon and Helen Gahagan Douglas became one of the most notorious campaigns in American political history. Douglas, a former Broadway star and Hollywood actress turned congresswoman, had defied her wealthy parents to pursue acting before entering politics. A friend of the Roosevelts and champion of farmworkers, civil rights, and liberal causes, she challenged incumbent Democratic Senator Sheridan Downey for his betrayal of New Deal principles.
Nixon methodically assessed his challenges: he needed substantial funding ($100,000-$125,000), the blessings of Republican leaders like Senator Bill Knowland and Governor Earl Warren, and crucially, support from Kyle Palmer, the influential political editor of the Los Angeles Times. Palmer, a jolly cynic and voluptuary, took a liking to Nixon, seeing him as fresh, modern talent representing a new generation home from war.
Nixon hired Murray Chotiner as campaign manager, a ruthless strategist who believed in attacking opponents early. "If you do not deflate the opposition candidate before your own campaign gets started, the odds are that you're going to be doomed," Chotiner would later teach at GOP campaign schools. He organized three thousand volunteers, established detailed accountability systems for county chairmen, and crafted a meticulous plan to introduce Nixon to voters statewide.
Nixon's team deliberately conflated the dreamy NC-PAC liberals with "communist-dominated PAC" hardliners, claiming Douglas "consistently voted the PAC line." Local newspapers amplified this message, warning voters not to "sell their fellow citizens into serfdom." The campaign distributed thimbles with the slogan "NIXON FOR CONGRESS-PUT THE NEEDLE IN THE P.A.C."-a hit with voters.
Nixon's campaign portrayed him as a "virile" and "fearless" defender of America based on his pursuit of Alger Hiss. When Hiss was finally convicted of perjury in January 1950, Nixon capitalized on the moment. He attacked Secretary of State Acheson's compassionate response as "disgusting" and delivered a four-hour House speech titled "The Hiss Case-A Lesson for the American People," which he had reprinted and mailed to thousands of voters nationwide.
The Democratic primary became chaotic when Senator Downey first announced he wouldn't seek reelection, then reconsidered, before finally withdrawing due to health issues. Publisher Manchester Boddy, backed by business interests, entered the race and attacked Helen Douglas as "the Pink Lady," linking her to left-wing Representative Vito Marcantonio. On primary eve, a bitter Downey joined the attack, claiming Douglas lacked "fundamental ability" and had "given comfort to the Soviet tyranny."
Nixon and Pat embarked on a grueling fifteen-thousand-mile campaign journey through California. Their days were relentless-in one stretch, they visited eleven towns in a single day, with Nixon speaking from his station wagon's tailgate while Pat distributed thimbles emblazoned with "SAFEGUARD THE AMERICAN HOME." Nixon meticulously prepared for each stop, reviewing schedules at night and jotting ideas on his itinerary. His approach impressed even Douglas supporters-at Berkeley's Sather Gate, he defused critics and silenced hecklers with what one Douglas supporter called "a magnificent speech."
Nixon's team compiled extensive material comparing Douglas's voting record to that of left-wing Congressman Vito Marcantonio. Chotiner printed these comparisons on pink paper-creating the infamous "pink sheet" distributed in half a million copies throughout California. The sheet claimed Douglas had voted 353 times "exactly as has Vito Marcantonio, the notorious Communist party-line congressman."
Nixon proved the superior campaigner, heeding advice to tighten his speeches when they ran too long. Douglas, meanwhile, failed to adapt her message to different audiences, often delivering lengthy policy talks about water rights and reclamation when voters were concerned about Communist threats during the Korean War. Her campaign management was in disarray, with communication problems and unpaid staff.
On Election Day, Nixon crushed Douglas with 59 percent of the vote. He celebrated at the Los Angeles Times building, where the publisher invited the Nixon family to his apartment. In a telling moment that revealed his complicated relationship with his parents, Nixon asked the Chandlers to secretly add bourbon to his milk so Frank and Hannah wouldn't see him drinking alcohol-behavior the publisher's wife found peculiar for a 37-year-old United States senator.
Capitolo 7
The Great Train Robbery: Nixon's Path to the Vice Presidency
Richard Nixon's victory over Helen Douglas cemented his reputation as a ruthless campaigner who had now defeated three liberal icons: Voorhis, Hiss, and Douglas. This pattern established Nixon as "a menace to liberalism" in the eyes of the left, with Republican strategist Bryce Harlow noting that Nixon "liked rolling in the dust." The Washington press "disliked him before they met him," and the nickname "Tricky Dick" stuck.
Nixon was sworn in early on December 4, 1950, when Sheridan Downey resigned to give him extra seniority. He expanded his staff, notably hiring 33-year-old Rose Mary Woods as his secretary-she would become one of his fiercely loyal "vestal virgins" who served him for decades. The Nixons sold their Whittier home and purchased a $41,000 white brick house in northwest Washington.
Behind closed doors, Nixon fumed at Eisenhower's measured response to Sputnik and his refusal to boost conventional weapons spending. He saw the administration as a "caretaker" government unwilling to "rock the boat." Nixon's frustration occasionally boiled over, as when he drunkenly railed against Eisenhower during an airplane ride, calling the president "an idiot" who had subjected him to "gross indignities" and "duped the American people."
Nixon's path to the Republican nomination took a dramatic turn during his Latin American tour in spring 1958. What began as routine diplomacy became a test of courage when leftist protests confronted him. At the University of San Marcos in Peru, Nixon boldly faced hostile demonstrators despite warnings, taking rocks and fruit thrown at him while shouting, "You are cowards! You are afraid of the truth!"
The tour's most harrowing moment came in Venezuela, where Nixon received intelligence of a possible assassination plot. At the airport, protesters spat on Dick and Pat from a balcony during the national anthem. Later, their motorcade was ambushed in Caracas by demonstrators shouting "Muera Nixon!" who smashed windows and rocked their car. The Secret Service drew weapons but Nixon forbade firing unless he was physically pulled from the car. Venezuelan police eventually cleared a path, allowing their escape to the American embassy.
The press portrayed Nixon as cool under fire, defending American honor during the Latin American incidents. Eisenhower welcomed him back with troops, planes and warships deployed to guarantee his safety. They shared a convertible, waving to 100,000 people who lined the route to the White House. Nixon had become a genuine hero, with his actions capturing "the public's need for leadership and decisiveness."
In summer 1959, Nixon's fortunes suddenly improved when he was sent to launch the American exhibition in Moscow. Though given no negotiating authority, this trip to the heart of the Communist world offered tremendous political opportunity. Nixon prepared thoroughly, studying 132 potential discussion topics.
Nixon's confrontation with Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev at the American exhibition became known as the "Kitchen Debate." Initially caught off-guard by Khrushchev's aggressive behavior during a color television demonstration, Nixon recovered during their famous exchange at a model American kitchen display. Though Nixon felt physically weak from tension afterward, American press portrayed him as forcefully standing up to the Soviet leader.
Nixon's diplomatic momentum was threatened when North Vietnam launched a massive invasion across the DMZ on March 30, 1972-the Easter Offensive. Twelve North Vietnamese divisions attacked, catching Nixon off-guard during an election year. Though South Vietnamese forces fought capably, they wavered as provincial capitals fell or were surrounded.
Capitolo 8
Checkers: Nixon's Televised Salvation
Syndicated columnist Peter Edson heard rumors about Nixon's financial arrangements and inquired directly with the candidate, who candidly referred him to Dana Smith for details about the fund. On September 17, Edson sent Nixon a draft of his straightforward story titled "NIXON AIDED FINANCIALLY BY RICH CALIFORNIANS," describing unnamed donors as "well-to-do Southern California political angels." However, this was overshadowed by the New York Post's more sensational front-page headline: "SECRET RICH MEN'S TRUST FUND KEEPS NIXON IN STYLE FAR BEYOND HIS SALARY."
The political standards were looser then-Stevenson had his own $84,000 slush fund, Sparkman's wife was on his office payroll, and Eisenhower enjoyed lavish gifts from wealthy friends. Yet only Nixon made headlines when the "secret fund" story spread nationwide. Nixon initially dismissed the controversy aboard his campaign train, but soon gathered advisers to craft a response highlighting the costs of representing California and arguing that young men without private fortunes shouldn't be barred from public service.
For Nixon, perpetually insecure, these days were hellish as political patrons abandoned him and California rivals in the Warren-Knowland wing actively worked to dump him. Nixon's instinct was to counterattack, confronting a heckler in Marysville about the "$16,000" accusation by denouncing "Communists and crooks" trying to "smear" him. But when both the Washington Post and the New York Herald Tribune called for his resignation, Nixon reeled as if "the roof caved in." While Murray Chotiner raged against the "damned amateurs" playing into Democratic hands, Pat Nixon urged her discouraged husband to fight back: "If you, in the face of attack, do not fight back but simply crawl away, you will destroy yourself." Her bracing talk helped Nixon find resolve when his "emotional and mental and physical resources had been drained to a dangerous low point."
After six years in politics, Nixon had developed a methodical speechwriting routine that would remain consistent throughout his career. Working on yellow pads, he created multiple outlines, each revision embedding the words deeper in his memory. By speech time, he could typically recite without notes, seeing the text unfold in his mind's eye. For the fund speech, Nixon began writing on the flight from Portland to Los Angeles, structuring it in three parts: refuting allegations, providing full financial disclosure (despite Pat's unhappy protest about revealing their modest circumstances), and pivoting to attack Democrats while promoting Eisenhower.
Nixon's broadcast followed a carefully crafted three-part structure. He began by methodically explaining the fund and its legitimate uses, displaying accounting reports and asking viewers if they'd prefer taxpayer money be used for political expenses. Then, in what he called something "unprecedented in the history of American politics," Nixon detailed his modest family finances-mortgages, insurance, their two-year-old Oldsmobile, debts to his bank and parents. He connected with middle-class viewers by recounting his humble beginnings in his family's grocery store, working through college and law school, and his marriage to Pat.
After mentioning his unremarkable military service ("I was just there when the bombs were falling"), Nixon emphasized that "every dime that we've got is honestly ours." Then came his masterstroke: "Pat doesn't have a mink coat. But she does have a respectable Republican cloth coat." Building suspense about a "gift" they'd received, Nixon introduced Checkers, the cocker spaniel sent by a Texas supporter for their daughters, declaring defiantly, "regardless of what they say about it, we're gonna keep it."
After the broadcast ended, Nixon was emotionally drained, bumping into the camera lens before burying his face in the stage drapes, convinced his performance wasn't good enough. But the reaction proved him wrong-teary-eyed cameramen, cheering crowds, and overwhelmed switchboards nationwide showed he had transformed from liability to asset. While sophisticates mocked the speech as "schmaltz" and "corn," ordinary Americans responded powerfully-nine million televisions tuned in, the largest TV audience to that time, generating hundreds of thousands of supportive telegrams and letters.
Capitolo 9
A Candidate for the Little Man: Nixon's Political Identity
In just thirty minutes of television, Nixon had reset American political calculus. For eighty years, Republicans had been seen as the party of industrialists and bankers, while Democrats spoke for the common man since absorbing the Populists in the 1890s. Franklin Roosevelt had championed "the forgotten man" against "financial oligarchies." But Nixon's Checkers speech struck a powerful chord with postwar middle America-white-collar workers, midlands Protestants, striving Catholics, and young couples in new suburbs like Levittown.
Nixon recognized an opportunity to capture the little guy by casting Democrats as an effete establishment of lawyers, writers, and professors dwelling in Georgetown, Cambridge, and Manhattan. He shared the background, values and resentments of the petit bourgeoisie, leading liberal columnist Murray Kempton to later write that "The Fifties were not the Eisenhower years but the Nixon years"-when the American lower middle class, through Nixon, moved to engrave "its self-pity and its envy, its continual anxiety about what the wrong people might think" into American history.
While Nixon connected with voters through resentment, Eisenhower had the common touch in a gentler fashion. Americans had been charmed by the Supreme Commander with his winning grin, and his famous photographs with paratroopers before D-Day. After four years bringing order to bickering allies, Ike projected confidence and leadership, especially after vowing "I will go to Korea."
Nixon was dispatched to whip up voters' fears as a more respectable version of McCarthy, though his temperance was questionable. He attacked "Adlai the Appeaser" with "a Ph.D. from Dean Acheson's cowardly college of Communist containment" and made his most consequential gaffe in Texarkana when he called Truman and colleagues "traitors to the high principles in which many of the nation's Democrats believe." This calculated malevolence earned him lifelong enemies in Truman, who called Nixon a "shifty-eyed goddamn liar," and Speaker Rayburn, who considered Nixon the meanest face he'd encountered in half a century in Congress.
The vice president-elect remained exquisitely sensitive to criticism, developing an intense antipathy toward the press that became "a spiral: Nixon reflecting to the press he didn't like it; the press hitting Nixon's raw nerve." This mutual enmity would have profound consequences. After the Checkers speech, Nixon canceled home delivery of the Washington Post due to Herblock's cartoons depicting him emerging from sewers with a five o'clock shadow.
The cumulative effect was devastating-as journalist Earl Mazo later discovered when researching Nixon's biography, "at least 50 percent of the accepted things about this man were total fabrications." John Kennedy observed that Nixon "was a victim of the worst that ever hit a politician in this country." The Checkers speech proved revelatory to Nixon, showing him how to outflank the press by appealing directly to voters through television. "He saw that night what television can do and he was absolutely spellbound," Ted Rogers recalled. From then on, Nixon "didn't give a damn about the regular press," considering them "the enemy."
Capitolo 10
The Week That Changed the World: Nixon's China Triumph
Nixon's diplomatic maneuvering toward China was no sudden conversion but a calculated strategy years in the making. Since his 1967 Foreign Affairs article "Asia After Vietnam," Nixon had recognized that the world couldn't afford to leave "a billion of its potentially most able people" in isolation. He saw opportunity in a pentagonal multipolar world dominated by five superpowers: the United States, Soviet Union, Japan, Western Europe, and China.
The Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968 proved a Cold War turning point, frightening Mao's regime. By 1969, Soviet and Chinese forces were engaged in deadly border conflicts along the Amur and Ussuri rivers. With Soviet troops to the north, India to the south, and Japan to the northeast, China faced encirclement. As Nixon later observed, "They had to choose between ideology and survival. They chose survival."
In July 1971, Kissinger feigned illness in Pakistan to secretly fly to Beijing. His entourage felt wonder crossing the Himalayas on this historic mission, code-named "Polo." For three days, Kissinger met with Premier Zhou Enlai, whom he found possessed of "a mixture of intensity and repose" with "steely discipline and self-control." The ideological contradiction existed on both sides, but Kissinger assured Zhou that Nixon's anti-Communist reputation would actually help shield their venture from right-wing opposition in America. As Mao had said: only Nixon could go to China.
Two days after Kissinger's meetings, Nixon received the prearranged code word-Eureka-signaling success. In three days of discussions, Kissinger and Zhou had reached agreement on a summit, struggling only over the question of face. Nixon welcomed Kissinger at San Clemente, where they assessed that the China opening would restore American pride while dismaying North Vietnam. On July 15, Nixon made a brief seven-minute television announcement: "I will undertake what I deeply hope will become a journey for peace."
Though Eisenhower publicly claimed Nixon was a "trusted adviser" with presidential qualities, their relationship was complicated. Nixon later described Ike as "charming and warm socially, but he was a hard ass" who "held grudges." The president seemed to alternate between pulling Nixon close and pushing him away, frustrating the vice president who felt he did the "grubby work" while Eisenhower floated above politics.
The meeting with Mao was resolved almost immediately upon Nixon's arrival. In Mao's book-lined study, with a promising Ping-Pong table nearby, Nixon, Kissinger and Winston Lord sat with Mao, Zhou, and their interpreters. "I like rightists," Mao told Nixon, who replied that those on the right "can do what those on the left talk about." Mao made a chilling reference to Lin Biao's death, then suggested they leave "troublesome" details to Zhou while assuring Nixon there was "no major issue" preventing peaceful relations.
The hour-long meeting set the tone for the visit. Though nothing substantial was decided, the photographs of these former archenemies shaking hands sent powerful signals worldwide. At the opening dinner, Nixon quoted Mao: "Seize the day, seize the hour," asking whether children would "die for hatreds" or "live because we had vision."
Capitolo 11
The Final Days: Nixon's Downfall
The Watergate scandal ultimately centered on the White House tapes. Following presidential tradition, Nixon had installed a noise-activated recording system that automatically documented conversations-a decision that would prove fatal.
When aide Alexander Butterfield revealed the system's existence, Nixon faced a crucial choice while hospitalized. Though advised to destroy the tapes, he kept them, believing courts would respect presidential privilege and the recordings would protect him from false accusations. He also valued them as evidence of his foreign policy achievements.
Fall 1973 brought cascading crises. Vice President Spiro Agnew resigned after a corruption scandal, while the Yom Kippur War erupted in the Middle East. Despite his domestic troubles, Nixon remained resolute in foreign affairs, organizing a massive airlift to support Israel against Soviet-backed Arab forces.
The "Saturday Night Massacre" occurred when Nixon fired Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox, prompting the resignations of top Justice Department officials. The public backlash was fierce, forcing Nixon to release the requested tapes. His problems worsened when two recordings went missing and another contained an suspicious eighteen-minute gap.
Nixon's April 1974 release of edited tape transcripts backfired. The clumsy editing and numerous "expletive deleted" notations only intensified suspicion. When the "smoking gun" tape emerged in August-revealing Nixon had ordered the Watergate cover-up within days of the break-in-his presidency was effectively over.
His final hours in office were marked by emotional moments, culminating in a raw farewell address to White House staff where he spoke of his mother, acknowledged his insecurities, and warned against the destructive power of hatred. At noon, as Air Force One flew over Missouri, Nixon's resignation took effect, his last presidential act a defiant victory sign from the helicopter steps.
