Special Section: John Connally

Toward Connally there was none of that ambivalent sense of competition and insecurity that marked Nixon’s relations with the other Cabinet members. Unlike Rogers and Laird, Connally had not had any contact with Nixon during previous crises in Nixon’s life. Nixon therefore did not have with Connally the same fear of not being taken sufficiently seriously. Connally’s swaggering self-assurance was Nixon’s Walter Mitty image of himself. He was one person whom Nixon never denigrated behind his back.

And Connally was indeed the most formidable personality in the Cabinet. Highly intelligent, superbly endowed physically, he looked and acted as if he were born to lead. He was not timid, nor did he lack courage. “You will be measured in this town,” he said to me once, “by the enemies you destroy. The bigger they are, the bigger you will be.” Connally relished combat. Whatever one might think of his views, he was a leader.

Like many self-made Texans he preferred the frontal assault to the indirect maneuver. He was convinced that the best way to transcend the malaise of Viet Nam was for our leaders to be visibly engaged in a tough defense of the American interest. He demonstrated immediately that the notorious Nixon “Palace Guard,” which forced Cabinet members to deal with the President through White House assistants, could not survive the challenge of a determined Cabinet member. He simply ran over them on international economic policy. If he needed White House guidance, he simply crossed the street from the Treasury and went to the Oval Office. He saw no reason to treat foreigners with any greater tenderness. He believed that in the final analysis countries yield only to pressure; he had no faith in consultations except from a position of superior strength. His presence guaranteed that the economic dialogue with Europe would not be dull; it also ensured that the European contribution would have to be something more solid than ritual incantations of good will.