Richard Nixon: My Part In His Downfall

The 1972 McGovern Convention

Ted Kennedy addresses the Democrat’s 1972 convention. I am somewhere in the audience.

I have told the story about my strange week working for George McGovern’s presidential campaign at the 1972 Democratic Party Convention in Miami to friends and family many times. My wife, I should acknowledge, is getting a tad bored with it, as she is with many of my stories, but that’s 50 years of marriage for you. Yet for two reasons I have decided to write up my political adventure.

The first is that I recently came across the letters I’d written home to my parents describing these events. These were not written for posterity and so capture my mood and observations of the time.

The second reason is one of timing. The Democratic Party Convention in Chicago will soon start, which allows for some points of comparison. But it is also the 50^th anniversary of Richard Nixon’s resignation because of the Watergate scandal.

One of the ‘dirty tricks’ revealed during the investigations into the Watergate scandal was that the Nixon team had infiltrated a spy into Senator George McGovern’s convention operation. My experience showed how this could be done. As it happened, I was an enthusiastic volunteer but if I had been a spy I would have been able to report all sorts of material on how the campaign was being conducted, and, if the campaign was not already self-sabotaging, I could have caused some disruption of my own.

The irony of Watergate, of course, is that Richard Nixon didn’t need dirty tricks to win the 1972 election. He had all his bases well covered. And the McGovern campaign imploded on its own account. The Convention for me ended as a salutary experience. While in Miami I was excited to watch events at close quarters and desperately wanted McGovern to win, but I understood by the Convention’s conclusion that this was probably a doomed cause.

Before getting into my participant observation it is important to note why the 1972 Convention was such a shambles. The rules for the 1972 Convention were a response to the 1968 Chicago Convention which is now remembered for the violence in the streets as the police clashed with anti-Vietnam war protestors (a lesson, in retrospect, in not assuming that getting beaten up by cops will generate support for your cause). For 1972 the rules changed to allow for a more inclusive convention, away from party bosses in ‘smoke-filled rooms.’ The result was constant arguments about procedures and opportunities for self-promoters to get their moment in the limelight. One report from Time Magazine described a ‘pattern of interminable night sessions, sleep, afternoons of caucuses… .. They seemed to treat Miami Beach as a curious rococo phenomenon, something beside the point.

What finally did for McGovern was his choice for Vice President – Senator Tom Eagleton. When compared with the care that went into Kamala Harris’s Vice-Presidential pick, the way Eagleton was chosen is extraordinary. Here is a blow-by-blow account from Pierre Salinger, Kennedy’s former press secretary, who was part of the inner circle. McGovern wanted Ted Kennedy, who was reluctant, and so the preference switched to Sargent Shriver (part of the Kennedy clan) but he could not be got back to Miami because he was then in Moscow on some business deal. Eventually they end up with Senator Tom Eagleton who was chosen because all others had fallen away, but without any proper background checks. He was quickly revealed to have had mental health problems, including electric shock treatment, and despite McGovern saying he supported him 1000%, he had to resign. This led to him hurriedly being replaced by Shriver, now safely back in the country. This episode is why nobody now commits to 1000% support, and why, mostly, potential vice-presidential picks are vetted.  

The other problem was that the rules were fluid on delegations. Thus revenge for Chicago 68 was taken on the city’s Mayor Richard Daley, who was blamed by many for the violence against demonstrators. His 59-delegate bloc was excluded because of a lack of diversity. (This was the first convention in which women’s groups had a major influence on events). The most important battle was over the ownership of California’s 271 delegates. The state had a winner-take-all rule and McGovern had won the primary in early June. But those seeking to stop McGovern and install Hubert Humphrey in his place had got the Credential Committee to nullify that rule, stripping McGovern of 120 delegates and potentially the nomination. Eventually this was overturned (more on this below). This then was hardly a coronation.

Me in Miami

In July 1972 I was 23, and on my first visit to the United States. As a political junkie – I’d been active in student and Liberal Party politics - I was keen to experience American politics at first hand. Having spent time protesting against the Vietnam War my natural affinities were with the McGovern camp. So a week after arriving in New York and then meeting up with family in New Jersey I took a Greyhound Bus to Miami, itself something of an experience.

On Monday 10 July 1972 I wrote to my parents from the Doral Hotel telling them that I was working as a McGovern volunteer and able to watch was happening behind the scenes. Having been unable to find my relation’s friend who was supposedly a big shot in the campaign I saw a sign which said ‘Volunteers for McGovern: Accommodation Provided.’ As I had nowhere to stay close to the Convention I duly volunteered and was soon filling envelopes with campaign material. This is the sort of thing volunteers often do though it is not very exciting. But I was diligent and keen and when an opportunity came to do something more interesting I took it.

My convention programme

At no point did anybody in authority, to the extent that there were such people, check me out. They were very trusting. Not all even realised that I was a Brit, perhaps because my accent, then stronger than now, was north-eastern and not standard English (one lady said I sounded like the Queen but she was definitely an outlier). If asked I said I came from the 51^st state, which led some to assume I was Canadian.

This is how I described what happened in my next letter home, sent on Wednesday 12 July:

‘I’ve had an amazing couple of days!! For some as yet unknown reason I’ve got myself bang into the nerve centre of the McGovern operation. Basically what happened is that soon after writing to you I was given a job which I originally thought was going to last 3-4 hours as an odd job man on the 16^th Floor (of the Doral Hotel – McG’s HQ). This is the nerve centre of the whole operation. There is a room called the Boiler Room – which is where they keep in touch with all the floor leaders at the Convention, the rooms of major aides, and access to the 17^th Floor Penthouse suite which is where all the top McG people – including the Senator himself are staying.

‘My job crystallised into being one of “security”. There are only 4 or 5 non-paid staff working on this. We have to check credentials, run messages, take people up to the 17^th floor or to a ”hospitality room” which is for people who have donated many dollars to the campaign. Basically they seem to prefer these volunteers to stay around to ensure that they know the faces – and can therefore find people. I worked (with a couple of breaks) an almost 24-hour day. But its really fascinating. Its meant that I’ve observed the McG campaign right from the inside – I bet I know as much as Walter Cronkite (in fact he’s got it all wrong) and seen all the top aides – Frank Mankiewicz, Gary Hart, Pierre Salinger etc – in operation, as well as Warren Beaty, Julie Christie and Robert Vaughan who have been wandering around here. There are a lot of secret services guys here but they are quite tame. Last night the Senator and his wife came down to see everybody here. So I’ve even met the Great Man!!’

People are amazed how I got here after less than a week in the United States. Other people would do anything to spend any time here. Haven’t seen much of Miami but the weather has been sticky without being sunny, so there hasn’t been the inclination. The only time I spent away from here was on Monday when I went the Country Club of the hotel – about 10 miles out - with some people I’d met. We went to watch the results of the California credentials challenge with the McGovern Californian delegates who were waiting to be reseated. That was really exciting as they were all totally involved in the proceedings and the euphoria when they won was beautiful.’

At the moment it is 8.00 in the morning. I’ve just let through the morning shift of the secret service. They showed me their passes. Isn’t this ludicrous? In an hour or so about ten Governors will be coming through for a breakfast meeting ….’

I had slept that night in the Black Caucus Room as I had been asked to stay around because other volunteers had not shown up. So by this time I must have looked very ragged and unshaven. The Governors were led by Patrick Lucey of Wisconsin, who had been in the mix for the Vice Presidency. He greeted me like a constituent and thanked me for my work, as did the others that followed, making the morning even stranger.

That afternoon it got stranger still. Anti-war protesters from the Students for a Democratic Society occupied the ground floor of the Doral Hotel, having taken umbrage at some comment by McGovern that he would retain some military capability in East Asia to ensure that prisoners of war were released. The result of this was that the Secret Service shut off the elevators so that the demonstrators could not get up. This meant in turn that all the VIPs and donors on the top floor of the hotel had to get down 16 flights of stairs (easier than getting up but there was still much grumbling).

I worked my way through the demonstration and, diligent chap that I was, walked all the way up to start my afternoon shift. I found myself all alone on the 16^th Floor with two secret service guys. They found my evident discomfort about the possibility of the demonstrators climbing all the stairs highly amusing - ‘we’re right behind you kid.’  The most memorable conversation between the secret service guys went along the lines of  one saying ‘If those motherf***ers get here I’m going to go ‘Peace Brother’, making the peace sign with his left hand while demonstrating a forceful uppercut with his right.

In my last letter home, I explained what had happened that Wednesday evening.

‘I continued working out of the 16^th Floor on Wednesday. I also noted that this was where everybody got their ticket. So early Wednesday evening after most people had left for the Convention I wandered in and asked for a ticket. I got one and so was able to be there for the final night of nomination. It was a bit like a circus. The night was very euphoric, especially for the McG people – one girl beside me could only say ‘Far out! Far out!’

It is worth pausing here to note that while extremely enthusiastic many of the youngsters working for McGovern lacked discipline and were also often surprisingly inarticulate. Part of this may have been due to a number being stoned for much of the time. I also started to think that it reflected a counter-culture belief in authenticity and spontaneity that could be lost if you stuck to rules or showed an excess of deliberate thought by speaking in complete sentences.

Another thing to note, which I came to appreciate because of my proximity to the ‘boiler room’, was that the open, inclusive, participatory nature of the Convention did not mean that the centre gave up on trying to exercise control - only that they had to use different means to do it, often quite covert. Ironically, in the light of where we are half a century on, much effort went into keeping the right to abortion off the party platform. I was dimly aware of this debate at the time ass it became quite bitter. The women delegates were overwhelmingly in favour but McGovern was uncomfortable with the issue and the more pragmatic members of the feminist movement accepted the need to hold back and to emphasise the importance of the Equal Rights Amendment.

One example of the lack of discipline was the guy who was responsible for handing out the tickets to the convention floor, which were a form of currency. Getting them for friends and colleagues was a way of demonstrating influence and access. So people were told to turn up at 2.00 pm to get their tickets from this guy on the 16^th Floor. Unfortunately he rarely turned up before 4.00 pm, by which time many of those who had been promised their treat had left annoyed and bitter. Having observed this I turned up at 4.00 pm. He always had plenty tickets to spare.

About the next day I wrote home:

Thursday all the top nobs were flocking to see McG. I saw a lot more interesting people – Arthur Schlesinger Jr, Norman Mailer (I had a chat about the contrast the Republican Convention would provide).

This is a bit of an exaggeration about my encounter with Mailer. It was largely silent. He was cross because it had taken him so long to get an interview with the Senator. I remember him coming to our desk complaining about this in a disappointingly arrogant  way. After some calls a meeting was quickly arranged and I was told to take him up to the 17^th Floor to wait until he could be seen. There was precious little conversation. It was basically

Me: ‘The Republican Convention will be very different from this one.

Mailer: ‘Yes it will be.’

And that was it.  

The other thing I remember from that afternoon was taking down press releases about the choice of Tom Eagleton as VP down to the press room.

Also that afternoon, and taking the same opportunity with the guy who always was late handing  out the tickets, I got another one for the evening and for the friend whose hotel room I’d been sharing. My description home:

This was the night of the acceptance speeches though they took a long time to get round to it. I think the delegates were getting very tired and bitchy so they weren’t very cooperative. It was not until the early hours of the morning that we got round to the key speeches. First Eagleton, then a brilliant speech by Ted Kennedy and then McG. He is not a great performer but his attraction lies in the substance of what he says. Anyway his people there were going to be enthusiastic even if he’d collapsed in a drunken stupor.

This barely does justice to the chaos of that evening. This is how the Time article, quoted above, described the reason why it took so long to get to the acceptance speeches:

‘The delegates maintained an appealing independence, even from their nominee. They insisted on nominating eight candidates for Vice President, including not only Eagleton but also Alaska’s Senator Mike Gravel, former Massachusetts Governor Endicott Peabody and Texas State Representative Frances (“Sissy”) Farenthold. By the time the roll call finally began, the delegates were in a prankish mood, casting ballots for TV’s Archie Bunker, Martha Mitchell and CBS-TV’s Roger Mudd. It was, said Mankiewicz, “like the last day of school.” Because the clerk misheard a name, one vote was even recorded temporarily for Mao Tse-tung. Finally, in a grace note that brought the convention to its feet cheering, the Alabama delegation cast all of its 37 votes for Eagleton, explaining that had Wallace been the nominee, he would have wanted the right to select his own running mate and McGovern deserved no less. When Eagleton was at last confirmed, it was 1:40 a.m.’

If I recall right Gravel nominated himself. He was somebody I was aware of – because he had read the Pentagon Papers into the Congressional Record. Because of that I was well disposed but this seemed stunningly self-indulgent.

And that was that. Except that there was a final twist. On the Friday people left. My attempts to get a lift failed and as I could not face another Greyhound  Bus journey I booked a flight back to New York. This left me with some time to spare. As I told my parents:

I went on the beach for a while and then played some table tennis. In the evening I went with a friend (of the hotel room) back to the Doral to see if anyone was around. He introduced me to a Californian who introduced me to Julie Christie!! She recognised my English accent and we chatted for two-three hours. That alone was worth $84 [the price of the air fare]. She was beautiful and extremely easy to talk to (after I stopped gawping).

I don’t think I really spoke to her for that long, though the encounter certainly left a lasting impression (on me - probably not on Ms Christie). It was ended, inevitably, by her being noticed by a young American male who, after the inevitable ‘far outs,’ demanded that he be allowed to take her photograph. The spell was broken. (This is the bit of the story with which my wife is most bored.)

Epilogue

On the night of the acceptance speeches I met a student journalist who must have been about 27 but seemed much older and care-worn than me. He looked sadly at all the excited youngsters yelling for McGovern and predicted correctly that they would soon be disappointed. I had noticed some of the ineptitude, for example handing out floor tickets, but compared with anything I’d seen in British politics the Convention was on a far large scale, professional and well resourced. But in the middle of it I had really paid little attention to how it had looked to the outside world and the craziness of acceptance speeches early in the morning. I don’t think I had time to read papers or watch much TV.

Before I left I was offered a job working on the Californian campaign which did tempt me, but I had a place in Oxford waiting. In November Nixon won with a landslide, losing only one state. ‘Don’t blame me,’ said the bumper sticker, ‘I’m from Massachusetts.’ The next year I was back in the US undertaking my research. While I was in Washington DC in October 1973, Spiro Agnew resigned as Vice President because of some past corruption and the Watergate revelations began to come thick and fast. Nixon could have won comfortably without any dirty tricks. Attempting to cover them up did for him. If I had been a spy in the McGovern campaign I could have told him that he did not need to interfere:  it was failing all on its own.