Lindsey Graham (21:12)
It's October 23, 1973, three days since the Watergate special prosecution was abolished. Inside the Oval Office, President Richard Nixon takes a seat across from a group of advisors. He's joined by his chief of staff, Alexander Haig, along with several legal experts whose advice the President needs as he confronts an unfolding disaster. Nixon scowls, reminding the group that the press and the public are now referring to the recent series of events as the Saturday Night Massacre. Mass resignations and firings that led to the shutdown of the special prosecution and the public outcry has been immediate. The White House was hit with 50 they were unsparingly critical of Nixon and his decision. And now he's being accused of orchestrating a political massacre. Nixon knows he's in trouble. Nixon rises and begins pacing the Oval Office in a fury. He's well aware that he's quickly becoming one of the most unpopular presidents in American history. The people hate him. They think he's a criminal. And if he doesn't reverse course, everything is going to get worse. So the question, Nixon says, is what can he possibly do next? Alexander Haig, Nixon's chief of staff, says that the President's observations appear to be correct. The situation is dire. Even the Republicans are turning against the President and demanding his tapes. But at this point, Nixon can't afford a fight with his own party. Nixon slams a fist down on his desk. After everything he's done for the Republicans, now this. But Nixon is not willing to reward that kind of treachery. So he tells Haig and the legal scholars that his position has not changed. No one is entitled to his recordings. Those tapes include some of his most intimate conversations, along with discussions about national security. He will not break precedent. He will not hand over his personal communications, even if the Republicans are now running with their tails between their legs. Haig glances at the legal scholars. It's clear they're exchanging some kind of silent agreement, something they must have discussed before the meeting. Haig then tells Nixon that his argument about executive privilege doesn't hold water. Maybe it did before, but public opinion has changed. And at this point, if Nixon does not hand over his tapes, he's going to face something much worse than a bunch of angry telegrams. He's going to be impeached by Congress. Nixon blanches at the mention of impeachment. There's nothing worse, nothing more terrifying than the possibility that Nixon could face an impeachment trial, that he could be the first President removed from office. For a moment, Nixon wrestles with the agonizing possibility. He is not lying. He believes his tapes are protected by executive privilege. It is his right to keep them private, and handing them over would set a terrible precedent. But setting in motion an impeachment trial could be even worse and even more destructive. Nixon begins pacing the Oval Office again, trying to make up his mind. When his Chief of staff breaks the silence, Haig reminds Nixon that there are hundreds of White House tapes, but the special prosecutor only subpoenaed nine of them. What if Nixon compromised? He could hand over just that tiny batch of recordings. It would appease everyone, and Nixon could move on with his presidency. Nixon chews over the suggestion. He hates the idea. But his Chief of Staff is correct. He can't alienate members of his own party. He can't risk an impeachment trial. So Nixon agrees. He'll provide that small batch of nine secret tapes that should silence his critics. And Nixon knows that when all the dust finally settles, he'll be vindicated. And he and his administration will finally get past the nightmare of Watergate. It's July 1974 in Washington D.C. in the West Wing of the White House, the President's Chief of staff, Alexander Haig, sits waiting for a phone call. Haig used to be an army general and he's accustomed to high pressure situations. But today, Haig feels uneasy as he thinks about everything that's gone wrong these last eight months. Haig believed that the President could save himself and his administration by releasing some of his secret tapes. Haig thought it would make Nixon look like an honest man, someone with nothing to hide. But the plan backfired. After releasing that first small batch, Nixon was hit with more subpoenas demanding dozens of additional tapes. Nixon tried to find a compromise and offered transcripts. But the plan went sideways. Nixon decided to have the transcripts edited. They were stripped of profanity as well as passages the President thought had nothing to do with Watergate. The public and the press were having none of it. They saw those edits as another attempt to cover up the truth. Nixon didn't only lose in the court of public opinion. The Supreme Court set aside Nixon's arguments about executive privilege. And in a clash that turned into a full blown constitutional crisis, the justices ordered ordered Nixon to hand over 64 of his tapes. It was another bruising loss for the President. And it wasn't even close to the end of it. Nixon's Vice President, Spiro Agnew, was forced to resign from office. The issue was unrelated to Watergate. Agnew was facing allegations of corruption from his time as Governor of Maryland. Still, with the resignation of the Vice President, the administration took yet another public hit. And that was all compounded when former top White House officials were indicted for crimes stemming from Watergate. John Mitchell, Bob Haldeman and John Ehrlichman are now facing charges. And a grand jury named Nixon himself as an unindicted co conspirator in the Watergate coverup. Haig runs a hand through his silver hair. He knows there's only so much the country can take. The President did go on TV in an attempt to clean up his image. He said he welcomed public scrutiny and made a bold statement. I am Not a crook. But even with his public claims of innocence, it appears that Congress has lost its patience. Next month, the House of Representatives is planning to impeach the President. It's the most drastic step Congress can take, and one that could result in Nixon being removed from office. Haig shakes his head as he thinks through this endless parade of disasters. At this point, there's no denying the administration is in total collapse. While Haig is a fighter, he's not sure how much longer he and the administration can hold out. And this phone call might tip the scale. Haig grabs the receiver. Hello? Hi, Al. It's Fred. Haig takes a deep breath. On the other line is J. Fred Buzhardt, one of the President's lawyers. Haig has been dreading this call all day. Hi, Fred. So you've listened to the tape? That's right, yeah. The one from June 23. One of many that's about to go public. And what's the prognosis? Well, Al, I'm telling you because you need to know. It's bad. How bad are we talking? Very, very bad. Hank sighs okay, well, give me the specifics. All right. In the tape, you can hear the President is meeting with your predecessor, Bob Haldeman. Haldeman is telling the President that the FBI is getting too close. It's about to discover direct ties between the administration and the Watergate burglars. And Haldeman goes on to say that they should make up some kind of story to try to put the brakes on the FBI's investigation. Oh, God, you're kidding me. Al, it's all on tape. Haldeman says they should falsely imply that Watergate has something to do with the CIA, and that way the FBI would pull back before they could find the administration was involved. They wanted to use the CIA to cover it up. This sounds like a spy novel. Are you. Are you sure about this? It's all on the tape. The public is about to learn everything. The President was involved in the COVID up. Now, this is the smoking gun, the one everyone's been looking for. Hank exhales and rubs a hand over his eyes. Now this is it, isn't it? There's no turn around. Well, I don't know. There may be some options. Right. Options? No. Well, thanks for reporting back. I'll be in touch. Haig sets down the receiver and takes a moment to compose his thoughts. This is not the first time Haig has suffered a painful defeat. But something about this one feels different, more painful than the rest. Haig knows it didn't have to come to this. The President didn't need to self destruct. He got bad advice and made some bad decisions. Still, he had so many chances to turn this around. But it's too late for any of that. There's no use in thinking about what could have been. There's only the present moment. And Haig knows right now, President Nixon is about to be forced out of office. A couple of weeks later, Richard Nixon shuts his eyes as he prepares to step back into the Oval Office. He breathes slowly, trying to calm himself. Himself. He notices the musty smell of the old paintings on the wall, the sweet perfume of all the old wood. Everything that makes the White House one of the most historic buildings in the world. Nixon opens his eyes, suddenly feeling steely with resolve. This is his domain. And even if he's feeling jittery, he is still the Commander in Chief, still the most powerful person in the world. He's about to take a big meeting, maybe the most important meeting of his entire career. But Nixon is a winner. And this time will not be any different. As Nixon enters the room, three of the country's top Republicans stand to greet him. John Rhodes, the Republican leader of the House. Hugh Scott, the leader in the Senate, and Barry Goldwater, the Senator from Arizona and the 1964 presidential nominee. Nixon tells the three men to take a seat. As he stands before them, Nixon reviews the latest developments. The tapes are out. The public knows that he and his former chief of staff tried to block the Watergate investigation. And at this point, an impeachment in the House of Representatives is all but certain. After that, the Senate will take up a trial. If they decide Nixon is guilty, he'll be removed from office. But if he's acquitted, he'll be able to serve out the rest of his term. As he stares at the Republican leaders, Nixon makes it clear that this is the moment of truth, when the party either stands with the President, the man elected by the people, or the moment when members of the party reveal themselves to be cowards. So, Nixon asks, which is it going to be? Barry Goldwater, the former presidential candidate, looks grim. He says he wishes he could offer better news. But Nixon only has 15 votes in the Senate, maybe 18. At this point, it's simple math. If he goes through a trial, he'll be short of the 34 votes he needs to fend off the Democrats and remain in office. But Nixon barks back that no tally is ever final until the votes are cast. There's always a way to find more support. Goldwater shakes his head, saying he wishes that was the case. But the charges are too much. The President is going to be impeached for obstruction of justice, abuse of power, and contempt of Congress. It's possible that Nixon can beat the first and third charges, but there's no way he can skirt the charge of abuse of power, not with the evidence that's come out. The case is too strong. Goldwater admits that he himself would vote to convict Nixon of that crime. Nixon is stunned. And as he looks at the other two senior Republicans, it's clear neither of them is going to push back. It doesn't matter what Nixon says or whether he tries to bully them into submission. The Republicans are done with him. Nixon shakes his head in disbelief. He wasn't born a member of the political ruling class. He was never a Kennedy, never a Roosevelt. Nixon made his own fortune coming up from nothing. And that meant he had to learn how to fight, to be dogged, ruthless, to never throw in the towel. But as he gazes across the Oval Office now, Nixon is suddenly hit with a sad, poignant feeling. Maybe this is it, the time to let go, to stop the fighting and accept the bitter fate that he's been dealt. But that feels too sentimental. Nixon nearly bursts out in a rage as he tries again to press his argument, to make inroads with Republican leaders. But it doesn't take long for the conversation to hit another dead end. The party simply does not have the voice votes. Nixon wants to keep fighting, to keep arguing, to keep cajoling, to keep pleading and threatening and pushing. But it's at that moment something shifts inside him. Nixon suddenly feels weightless, unmoored. And as he staggers to his seat, he finally realizes what's happening. He's giving up. Nixon looks up and dismisses the Republican leaders from the Oval Office when he's alone once again, Nixon heads to his desk and sits down with a pen and a piece of paper. It's time to start writing a speech. Time to say farewell to the White House, to Washington, and to the American people.