What It Takes (116 page)

Only Dole seemed to notice that.

Sure enough, Nixon’s landslide did not raise the GOP to power in either house of Congress. In fact, liberal Democrats unseated Republican Senators from Maine, Colorado, Delaware, and Iowa.

Only Dole seemed to harp on that.

That was his reputation, by that time, in the White House: sour all the way—Bob Dole, crying wolf for the Party. One week after election, the capital’s smart-guy community knew: Dole was on his way out—just a question of when.

Dole didn’t need the tom-toms to tell him ... it was almost time, anyway. He’d have his own reelection campaign in 1974. If he could bow out of the chairman’s job with grace—say, mid-’73 ... well, that would give everybody time.

Only Dole had grace in mind.

Two weeks after the election, Dole was summoned. It was his first visit to Camp David—his last for many years. Nixon had him flown up by chopper, with Attorney General Dick Kleindienst—who looked like a man on the way to his hanging. That’s when Dole figured: maybe there was a noose for him, too.

Dole said, by way of small talk, “Agh, d’ya bring your
rope
?”

But, no ... Nixon was awfully kind—talked about all the work Bob had done—helluva job! ... The President had that big map from the office, all striped now with flight paths—that was a gift for Dole. And a jacket, emblazoned: “Camp David.” Nixon couldn’t have been friendlier—wanted to talk about
Bob’s future
.

“Well, I have been working hard,” Dole allowed. “I thought maybe I could stick around, have a little fun with the job, a few months ...”

Nixon was nodding: yes, he’d figured Bob was ready to move on.

“No, well, I mean ...”

No need to explain: Nixon understood! Well, who did Bob think should be his successor? ... Of course, Dole caught the drift. He mentioned some Big Guys—Mel Laird might be good. ...

That’s when Nixon brought up the name George Bush. Nixon wanted to place Bush ... but Bush didn’t want to be number two anywhere. Maybe he could be number one at the RNC. Did Dole think Bush might take the job? ... It was John Mitchell who suggested that Dole go to New York, sound out Bush—see if he’d be willing.

So, dutifully, Dole flew to New York, had his meeting with Bush, took his sounding, in the Waldorf. ... Bush was cordial—nice guy, you know—he listened, smiled, didn’t say yes, didn’t rule it out.

Dutifully, Dole reported back to the White House.

It was only later, after Dole found himself and his daughter in the
last car
of Nixon’s inaugural parade (well, just about the last car—maybe some cops behind them, or a sanitation crew) ... after Dole learned from the papers that he’d been dumped as chairman (his demise unceremoniously leaked) ... along with the news that he’d been dumped for George Bush ... did Dole learn that Bush had talked to Nixon.

Bush had talked to Nixon before Dole ever flew to New York!

You’d think Bush might have said—somehow, let Dole know—it was all just a dog and pony show ... he’d already taken Dole’s job!

“Gaghhd! Guy just sat there! ...”

Nice guy!

Well, didn’t matter anymore—did it? Dole’s job was gone. He was back in that hotel, alone, with those walls ... his map, a Camp David jacket in the closet ... and in his head, an unfading memory of Bush’s blank, friendly smile.

B
AR TOLD HIM NOT
to take that job. “Anything ... but not that committee.”

It was the first time she’d ever said something like that, but ... the Republican National Committee? It was ... just
politics
, just thumping the old tub! ... Oh, she’d been to enough of those dinners to know the score. Bob Dole could run around the country, saying nasty things about the Democrats—fine ... but that was a
lousy
job for George Bush! ... George Bush was serving the country!

They’d been happy in New York, at the UN—in their grand apartment in the Waldorf (actually three apartments put together, on the forty-second floor of the Towers). After all those terrible things people wrote (she remembered well) when George got the job: how he was “just a politician,” “ignorant of foreign affairs,” who would “devalue the U.S. mission,” whose appointment “demonstrated Nixon’s contempt”—George had shown them, hadn’t he?

He was a raging success ... he’d done his homework, he knew the issues. He’d represented his country with honor. The staff at the mission loved him—as did the foreign diplomats, whom the Bushes entertained assiduously, with dinners in New York, picnics at his mother’s place in Greenwich, nights at the ballpark to watch Uncle Herbie’s Mets—George had made so many friends! ... Actually, George and Bar had, since she got hold of a Blue Book, the list of diplomats and their wives—she memorized the names, made sure to talk to them all, at parties ... then she’d take them over and introduce them to George—they made a wonderful team.

Bar would bring her needlepoint and sit through Security Council debates. She tried not to sit next to the wife of someone George would vote against—but if it happened, no matter: they could still be friends. After all, they were professionals. They had to take the line of their governments. Everybody understood that—understood there could be no deviation from that, no matter what one might think privately. In fact, there was no job (none in Bar’s experience) where the power of mindset came in so handy. No one but Bar knew when George had argued for a different policy in Washington. (It happened seldom, as a matter of fact.) But George would
never
sow discord within his delegation, and he wouldn’t allow any carping about the State Department, or Kissinger. No one but Bar would see Bush’s heartache when he picked up the paper and found out Kissinger was secretly talking with the Red Chinese—pulled the rug out from under Taiwan ... and from under George Bush, who was laboring to keep Taiwan in the UN. ... No, Bush would simply take the
new line
—a two-China policy—no one would
ever
see him acting as if he did not believe it. ... No one but Bar would ever know his humiliation and rage when the U.S. lost the vote on two Chinas, and the Third World delegates (“little wiener nations,” Bush had called them) started laughing and whooping, catcalling Uncle Sam, in the aisles. ... No, he would gather the delegation and reassure them: they were a good team—no second-guessing and no looking back ... “On to the next event!”

That was the loyalty he owed to his country—and his President. Richard Nixon had vouchsafed this job to Bush, after Bush lost his race for the Senate. No one would ever see Bush wavering from Richard Nixon. That’s why the hard-eyed men in the White House thought of Bush for that RNC job. (“He takes our line beautifully,” said a memo from Bob Haldeman.) And that’s why Barbara Bush could hardly have been surprised when loyal George came back from Camp David and gave her the news she least wanted to hear. ... Actually, he didn’t have to tell her, straight out.

“Boy!” said George Bush. “You just can’t say no to the President!”

Thank you for your note about the Watergate affair. I want to say I left the wonderful job at the United Nations to return to politics because I feel strongly that those of us who care must try to elevate politics.

The connotations of Watergate are grubby and I don’t like it. ... There is a public distrust in government and to the degree that I can make some small contribution to correcting that, this new job in politics will be worthwhile.

I appreciate your taking the time to write ...

Yours very truly,

George Bush

He answered each letter personally, assuring Republicans that their Party had nothing to do with Watergate, promising the faithful that he’d spare no effort to trumpet the President’s achievements, adjuring the Nixon-haters not to judge too soon or too harshly—to let the Constitutional process take its course. ... What else could he do? He told his friends—the ones who counseled him to get off that sinking ship—that he wasn’t just defending the President, he was defending the Party, and the Presidency.

... I fully share your concern about this sordid and grubby Watergate mess. ...

Watergate was the product of the actions of a few misguided, very irresponsible individuals who violated a high trust and who served neither the President nor their country well. ...

Keep in mind that the RNC and CRP are two separate entities. The whole Party shouldn’t be blamed for the actions of a few zealots. ...

Yours very truly,

George Bush

But he was defending the President—no way around it. Richard Nixon had assured Bush, personally, that he had nothing to do with the break-in, the cover-up—any of that nonsense. ... Bush had the President’s
word
—man to man.

And how could he demonstrate his continued belief in the man who had become his friend, his patron ... save by throwing himself into defense—personally? Bush knew no other way.

The President has said repeatedly he wasn’t involved in the sordid Watergate affairs. I believe him. I am confident he will be fully exonerated once this matter is cleared up in the courts.

I am also confident that people are basically fair. ... The voters will not hold the Republicans responsible for what the Party was not involved in. ...

Yours very truly,

George Bush

If Bush was confident, he was more and more alone. Yale friends wrote, asking why he could not
do something
to rid the country of Nixon. Republican officials relayed forecasts of disaster in elections to come. Money for the Party disappeared. Bush had to fire half the staff at the committee. He handled each termination personally.

When GOP Congressmen edged toward impeachment, or Senators mused on Nixon’s possible resignation ... Bush’s phone would ring. The White House was on the line—Chuck Colson, or one of his legion (Teeter, the Party pollster, called them “the after-dark crowd”). ...

“
YOU GO OUT THERE AND TELL THOSE ASSHOLES
...”

You could hear Colson’s snarl in Bush’s earpiece, all the way across the office.

“...
THEY FUCK WITH US, WE’LL CRUSH ’EM ... LIKE BUGS! ALL OF ’EM
...”

And you’d see Bush’s back go stiff, in his big chair, as he said with conscious quiet to the phone: “I’m not sure that would do any good ... I’m not sure that’s what the committee ought to be doing.”

Then there’d be more of Colson, screaming ... after which, Bush would set down the earpiece in its cradle, precisely, almost daintily, with thumb and index finger pincering its midpoint, only the tips of two fingers touching it. ... “Well,” he’d say, “that was pleasant.”

... I have read every word of the transcripts, but I have not seen all the evidence, and thus, I am not going to join in suggesting that Richard Nixon authorized payment of hush money. Indeed, I am surprised that one who is concerned about government as you would not understand the point that all evidence should be seen and heard before definitive judgments are made by Members of Congress.

Yours very truly,

George Bush

... I recognize that it is very hard to get the message of support out around the country, particularly when the press is having such a heyday with Watergate and the negative aspects.

Yours very truly,

George Bush

... Last year for example, I traveled 97,000 miles, to 33 states, gave 101 speeches, 78 press conferences, was on national TV 11 times to speak for Nixon. ...

We really need you.

Yours very truly,

George Bush

No, it could not be just letters, or phone calls. Bush flew around the nation with abandon, interposing his person between the Party and its date with a brick wall. The speeches and press statements were the same as the letters—same words—but Bush thought if people could
see him
,
hear him
,
in person
... see his hope for the nation, for its government, for his Party, its candidates, for
decency
... well, that would make a difference—wouldn’t it?

That was what he had to give, that was the measure of loyalty—and the requirement of the code: personal commitment.

That’s what made it worse, in the end ... when he found out.

Nixon had lied to him, personally.

Bush never could shrug that off—couldn’t chalk it up to politics ... that wasn’t politics to
him
. That was a personal breach.

Even a year later, Bush remarked to a friend, with uncharacteristic bluntness: “I wouldn’t care if I never see Richard Nixon again.”

Of course, by that time. Bush had less reason to be politic. In fact, he wasn’t sure whether politics was his game, at all.

L
OYALTY WOULD BE HIS
watchword. He was still Vice President—part of the Reagan team. He’d said that so many times, even his white men understood: Bush—well, he probably
means
it. ... Teeter, in fact, had good and important reasons why Bush had to run as Reagan’s shadow: in the fall of 1987, it was the only way that made sense to the voters—it was his Veephood made Bush big-league.

But that didn’t stop the white men from trying to hedge their bets—just a little. (Why not have your cake, too?) Especially when things got serious ... like this Iowa event: the Iowa GOP would gather in September for the Presidential Cavalcade of Stars, a cattle show for Republican candidates ... and a
straw poll
.

A straw poll meant
news stories
.

And that meant Bush had to win.

That’s the problem with running big-league. You have to look big-league every time.

So the Iowa chairman of GBFP, George Wittgraf, a gentleman-lawyer from Cherokee, got a thunderstorm of calls from Fifteenth Street: tickets, buses, schedules, backdrops—everything had to be big-league! Several calls came from Rich Bond, who graced the Wing of Power as the Deputy Campaign Manager—deputy to Atwater ... but saw himself, in the flowchart of his own mind, pendent on one thin line to the big box—George Bush. In fact, if you shot Bond up with truth serum, he might tell you:
it shoulda been him
(and not Lee) in that big corner office on Fifteenth Street.