THE VICE PRESIDENCY: Agnew’s Agony: Fighting for Survival

In the most trying and tumultuous week of his political life, Spiro Agnew suddenly decided to seek a brief respite in a little afternoon tennis. He asked his press secretary to join him. “Fine,” replied Marsh Thomson, “but I’ll have to go home and get my gear.” Lugging his bag, Thomson arrived back at the Executive Office Building just before 4 o’clock only to find his boss unexpectedly engaged. In the corridor outside Richard Nixon’s first-floor hideaway office, he recognized two of the Secret Servicemen assigned to Agnew. The President and the Vice President were having a talk. The two men met alone for an hour and a half and emerged only after agreeing to tell no one what they discussed. Agnew seemed discouraged as he left, a fact that Thomson found completely understandable. “It’s a rough ball game,” he said, “and the slings and arrows are coming hot and heavy.”

The Nixon-Agnew meeting added velocity to the tornado of speculation, rumor, charge and countercharge sweeping through Washington. With a federal grand jury in Baltimore poised to hear evidence against Agnew of bribes, extortion and kickbacks dating from his days as a Maryland official, with almost daily fresh revelations of perhaps not illegal but certainly improper gifts of cash, goods and services to Agnew, the crisis seemed close to some kind of explosive resolution. One version had it that Agnew was about to resign and fight his case as a private citizen, another that Nixon was twisting the screws to persuade him to resign, a third that the Vice President was desperately trying to make a deal with Attorney General Elliot Richardson’s Justice Department—and ultimately, of course, with the White House—to resign in exchange for having the case against him dropped.

TIME has learned that the third version is the accurate one, and moreover that the deal fell through. According to sources close to the case, triangular negotiations took place between Agnew representatives and officials in the White House and the Justice Department. What Agnew’s men proposed was a simple exchange. If he stepped down as Vice President, the Government would not attempt to prosecute him.

Richardson’s aides were willing to entertain a bargain. What Agnew wanted was of course not possible, they said, but would Agnew be willing to plead guilty to a single charge in the case? In turn, the department was prepared to urge the courts to be lenient with the Vice President after his resignation.

Agnew eventually rejected that offer, unwilling to settle for anything less than complete amnesty as the price of yielding office. But the bargaining, say these sources, accounted for the mysterious delay in presenting the Agnew evidence to the grand jury after Richardson had decided that that was the inescapable course of action and had so notified Agnew. All parties to the secret negotiations denied that any such talks had taken place.

But it is difficult in Washington for any major maneuvering ever to be kept totally secret, and enough fragments kept leaking out to make it as wild and woolly — particulary woolly — a week as the capital has known.

The latest round in the Agnew crisis began with a story by the Washington Post quoting an unnamed “senior Republican figure” as saying that he came away from more than two hours of conversation with Agnew “99½% certain he will resign — and probably this week.” The Post gave the story an eight-column banner headline, but its punch came from the fact that it was written by David S. Broder. A Pulitzer prizewinner, Broder not only has excellent Agnew sources — he was the first to say that Nixon was considering the little-known Maryland Governor as his running mate in 1968, but he is also one of the most highly respected political reporters in town, a man known for his careful checking of sources.

No Comment. Rumors soon spread that Senator Barry Goldwater was the source for Broder’s story and that the White House was naming the Senator, but Goldwater emphatically denied the charge. “You won’t believe this,” Goldwater told one of Agnew’s aides, “but as fast as my staff can put out denials, somebody at the White House spreads the word that I was the source.”

Because Goldwater commands immense prestige among conservative Republicans, some of Agnew’s staffers understandably began to suspect that the White House engaged in a little Machiavellianism to force the Vice President to resign. This theory was reinforced by a story in the New York Times the following day asserting that some high-ranking White House officials — again unnamed — had been saying that “it might be best for Vice President Agnew to resign and allow President Nixon to choose a new Vice President.”

Reporters sought Agnew for confirmation, setting up ambushes for him whenever he appeared in public. But Agnew stuck by his oft-enunciated rule never to comment on any report that did not name the source, and indeed refused comment on anything all week.

That, however, did not inhibit the combative Victor Gold, Agnew’s former press secretary and still a close associate. Gold put the blame for the stories squarely on Alexander Haig and Melvin Laird, Nixon’s two top aides, who he said were following a familiar White House pattern in trying to undermine the Vice President as Nixon’s most likely successor in 1976. Said Gold: “First we had Haldeman and Ehrlichman; now we have Haig and Laird; next we’ll have Sonny and Cher.”

When both Haig and Laird denied that they were the sources for the Agnew-is-going stories, newsmen turned to Deputy White House Press Secretary Gerald Warren to find out the thinking of the President. What Warren did not say turned out to be as valuable a clue as what he did say. As the President’s diligent echo, Warren could have rescued Agnew from his humiliation by merely giving the slightest sign of support. Instead, Warren had “no comment” to questions about Broder’s story in the Post, with one notable exception.

He did say that the President stood by his Sept. 5th press-conference statement about Agnew, but that made things even worse for Agnew; Nixon had then been extraordinarily careful to say only that he had confidence in the “Vice President’s integrity during the period that he has served as Vice President and during which I have known him.” Omitted was any endorsement of the pre-1968 Agnew, when he was Governor of Maryland or Baltimore county executive.

Agnew’s allies could perhaps be forgiven if, as John Ehrlichman described the White House treatment of Acting FBI Director L. Patrick Gray, they suspected the Vice President was being allowed to twist slowly, slowly in the wind.

As Gold was quick to point out, Nixon had been much more effusive in his praise of the disgraced and departed Ehrlichman and H.R. Haldeman. The President said that by accepting their resignations he was implying no wrongdoing on their part, and called them “two of the finest public servants it has been my privilege to know.”

Why should the White House want Agnew to resign? The more suspicious of Agnew’s beleaguered band of staffers cited four possible reasons:

> To allow the President to give John Connally a head start toward becoming his successor, by naming him as the new Vice President (subject to congressional approval under the 25th Amendment).

>To eliminate the need for Richardson to resolve the perplexing constitutional question of whether or not Agnew would have to be impeached before he could be indicted.

> To lessen the pressure on Nixon to resign if the Watergate scandal worsens. Having gone through one traumatic resignation, runs the argument, the nation would have less will for a second.

> To draw attention away from Nixon and his own troubles. “Three weeks ago, the country was talking about the President resigning,” says Gold, “and now they’re talking about the Vice President resigning. Some people may think that’s a coincidence. Some people might think storks bring babies. I’m not that naive.”

But Nixon may have a much less Machiavellian reason for wanting Agnew to quit. The Vice President’s thrashings are scarcely contributing to the President’s efforts to re-establish trust in his Administration in the wake of all the Watergate revelations. Agnew is a distraction and an embarrassment, and could be far worse if guilty. With access to the solid case against Agnew that the Justice Department believes it has, Nixon may well be convinced of Agnew’s guilt and feel that he should be ousted sooner rather than later. Agnew may have privately resisted such suggestions from Nixon, and thus Nixon, even as Agnew’s staff charges, is now trying to use public pressure to force Agnew out.

The clamor reached such a point that Nixon Spokesman Warren was forced to assert that no one in the White House was trying to push Agnew to resign. Indeed, it could be argued that while Nixon might very well like to be rid of the Agnew problem, it was by no means certain that he wanted to get rid of Agnew. Dumping the Vice President simply made no political sense, Nixon aides kept insisting. After all, the President had twice picked Agnew as his running mate. Said one aide: “Let’s face it; if Agnew goes down the tube, that rubs off on the old man too.”

But on balance, whatever reluctance the President might feel about getting rid of Agnew, he had scarcely demonstrated it very convincingly.

In a week of ardent speculation, even Agnew himself did not escape consideration as the source of the resignation reports. He might simply have been seeking opinions, in Nixon’s own devil’s-advocate style, from a colleague who mistook his manner. On Aug. 15 in Denver, Agnew asked Republican National Committeeman Bill Daniels pointblank whether he should resign. (Says Daniels: “My direct answer to him was that if you’re guilty you’ve got a problem, but if you’re innocent, I would fight it to my dying day.”) Or the report could have stemmed from a fleeting mood, his aides suggested. On more than one occasion, Agnew has been known, after a bad round on the course, to toss his clubs in a corner and darkly vow never to play golf again.

Saddened Man. Whatever the origin of the resignation rumor, it quickly developed a momentum of its own, building up a drumbeat of pressure on Agnew beyond the immediate exigencies of his situation. When Georgia Governor Jimmy Carter phoned Agnew to encourage his old friend, he found himself talking to a weary and saddened man. Reported Carter: “He said that he and his family were under tremendous pressure and that he felt like he was fighting a division with a platoon.”

Even a natural political enemy came to Agnew’s defense. Declared Democratic Senator Edward Kennedy: “The deliberate campaign of abuse to which he is being subjected should be ended now. The White House and the Department of Justice have an obligation of fundamental fairness to the Vice President to let the investigation take its course, free of the pervasive current atmosphere of a kangaroo trial by ‘undisclosed sources.’ Vice President Agnew has conducted himself with dignity in recent weeks. He deserves the nation’s respect for his demeanor in this unprecedented situation.”

Agnew did his determined best to carry on his personal and official life just as before. It was his wife who most showed the strain. Judy Agnew is a quiet, unassuming woman who never wanted to enter the minefields of politics. Unlike Pat Nixon, who has been steeled by many crises in the past, Mrs. Agnew is experiencing her first ordeal. For the first time she has been confronted by reporters demanding, “Is your husband going to resign?” Calmly, she answered, “You’ll have to ask my husband.”

She carried off most of the week very well, but then she was jolted by one of those sharp little rebuffs that showed how the President was keeping his public distance from his Vice President. At a White House dinner for Pakistani Prime Minister Ali Bhutto, the Agnews were swiftly ushered out of camera range into the East Room instead of waiting, as usual, for the Nixons to descend the curving staircase. When the Agnews joined the Nixons and the Bhuttos at the head table that night, the strain showed on Judy Agnew’s usually smiling, round face.

Ready to Argue. In this kind of atmosphere, the humor, understandably, was either black or a very dark shade of gray. At a party at the home of Peter Malatesta, Agnew’s political handyman, the pianist glided into an old favorite —”Don’t throw bouquets at me… Don’t laugh at my jokes too much …” Listening, Murray Chotiner, Nixon’s longtime adviser, took the cigar out of his mouth and cracked: “That’s the Vice President singing to the President.” Malatesta, the nephew of Bob Hope, quickly whispered into the ear of the pianist, who then swung into Getting to Know You. “And that,” said Malatesta, “is the President singing to the Vice President.”

While Agnew kept his counsel, the men around him kept passing the word that the Vice President would not quit under fire—it just was not his nature. Indeed, as the week went on, Agnew seemed to be physically bracing himself for a fight. His face, always angular, took on a new grimness, and his eyes, always narrow when he is angry, became tight slits.

Legally, Agnew could fight an indictment for any possible transgressions so much more effectively as Vice President that it made no sense for him to resign unless he could have engineered a deal. The President could not force him to quit; he had been elected by the voters just as Nixon had.

What is more, Agnew has had a team of attorneys preparing to fight the grand jury’s investigation. The team is headed by Judah Best, a former Assistant U.S. Attorney who now practices in Washington. Assisting Best are Martin London and Jay Topkis, two lawyers from the New York firm of Paul, Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton & Garrison.

Agnew’s lawyers argue that the Vice President cannot be indicted for anything he did unless he is first removed from office by being impeached by the House of Representatives and found guilty by the Senate.

Should Agnew succeed in persuading the courts that he cannot be indicted before he is impeached, an odd impasse might ensue. The Democratic leadership of the House of Representatives is by no means sure it can impeach Agnew for offenses committed before he became Vice President (see page 15). If that proves so, in theory at least, Agnew could escape both being indicted in Maryland—if the courts ruled that he could not be tried while a Vice President—and being impeached on the Hill. But if the evidence against him is truly compelling, that logic would not likely be allowed to stand, for he would then surely have to resign as Vice President—and thereby become indictable.

In the dark of these nights, a part of Agnew must be tempted to quit. He realizes that he is an embarrassment to the White House. He knows that he has all but lost his chance to be the Republican candidate in 1976. And he must be tired of being humiliated by the President. Back in 1971, Agnew felt so strongly about his poor relationship with his remote boss and about the snubs of Ehrlichman and Haldeman, that he talked privately to friends about resigning then and there. The reason he stayed on is that he was convinced it would appear he was quitting so as not to risk the humiliation of having Connally replace him on the ticket in 1972.

Fresh Charges. One of his main jobs for Nixon—running the Office of Intergovernmental Relations, which handles White House liaison with Governors and mayors—was taken away from him in January. His staff was brusquely cut by 23%. He feels so ill at ease presiding over the Senate—his chief task as laid down in the Constitution —that this year he has been in the chair only 2% of the time the Senate has been in session. One bitter quote sums up Agnew’s unhappiness in his job. “The President needs me at the White House,” he once remarked, excusing himself from a meeting. “It’s autumn, you know, and the leaves need raking.”

Amid everything else, fresh allegations of misdeeds continued to appear.

The Washington Post reported yet a new scandal—a Maryland engineering consultant named Lester Matz, an old friend of Agnew’s and a man also under investigation, was said to have admitted giving Agnew $25,000 over the years.

TIME learned of another complication for the Vice President from a close Agnew associate. According to the associate, campaign contributions accepted by Agnew when he was in Maryland politics were deposited in Agnew’s personal bank accounts. Agnew reportedly insists that he did not use any of the money for personal purposes, but he does not have the canceled checks and receipts to prove that he turned it all over to his campaign committee. Agnew’s attorneys vigorously deny the whole allegation, and the Justice Department refused to comment.

Can Agnew pull a Nixon? The leadership of the Democratic Party, which controls both the House and the Senate, has already thought through the procedures that would be followed if the Vice President goes. The 25th Amendment, ratified in 1967 to handle such emergencies, says only that “the President shall nominate a Vice President who shall take office upon confirmation by a majority of both houses of Congress.” According to current plans, a committee in each chamber would conduct a hearing on the nomination calling witnesses for and against and questioning the nominee at length. Each committee would report to its parent chamber, and then the House and Senate would take separate votes, the nominee needing at least 51% of the ballots in each case to be confirmed.

That seems simple enough, but the real question is what presidential nominee could get past both the House and Senate. The Democratic leaders would be willing to let Nixon name someone from his own party who reflected his thinking. But they are not yet ready to build a launching platform for a man likely to be a strong Republican presidential candidate himself in 1976—a man, say, like John Connally.

Call to Arms. To avoid a fight, Robert Strauss, chairman of the Democratic National Committee, said that he hoped that Nixon “would make a nonpresidential type of appointment,” someone of elder-statesman status who would promise not to run in 1976. Indeed, the conjecture could be made—it was that kind of week—that Nixon would be wise to nominate a caretaker Vice President. If he named too strong a man, he might make it easier for Congress to impeach the President.

Some suggestions for “nonpresidential” Vice Presidents, discussed informally by Democrats: William P. Rogers, the recently resigned Secretary of State; John Sherman Cooper, former Senator from Kentucky; Gerald Ford, Republican leader in the House; and Barry Goldwater—who quickly said that he was not interested.

The strongest criticism of the arguments for installing a stopgap Vice President came from a politician who might have to face any major figure who was put in the job and then went on to run for the presidency. Yet he called for just that: a strong Nixon choice. Senator Kennedy, still the leader in the polls for the Democratic nomination in 1976 despite the lingering shadow of Chappaquiddick, declared: “We know the enormous burden the Vice President must bear [if] he accedes to the office of the President. The last thing the country needs is a caretaker Vice President, unable to enjoy the confidence of the country he may be called to lead.”

As his week of ordeal drew to a close, Agnew was showing every sign of being determined to press rather than quit.

Rebuffed by the White House and the Justice Department in his effort to strike a bargain, Agnew was planning to file suit this week to prevent the Government’s grand jury from even hearing any evidence against him, on the constitutional ground that a Vice President is exempt from any phase of criminal proceedings until impeached.

This is the first step in what is likely to be a long and costly legal fight. To pay the bills, Agnew’s office disclosed the formation of an “Agnew defense fund” that will collect contributions from friends and supporters. He might, of course, still resign suddenly, but it sounded like a call to arms from a man determined to fight.