Stroking determinedly against the Watergate undertow that imperils his survival, Richard Nixon finally moved to give his Administration a new aura of openness, experience and professionalism. With plenty of outside help, he persuaded a highly regarded political pro, Melvin Laird, to become his top domestic affairs adviser. He coaxed a superb organizer, General Alexander Haig Jr., to resign from a brilliant Army career and become White House Chief of Staff. He nominated one of the nation's most proficient law enforcement officials, Kansas City Police Chief Clarence Kelley, to head the FBI. All three will fill vacancies created by the scandal.
In their personal styles as well as their career backgrounds, each member of this crisis-born trio contrasts sharply with the man he replaces. Laird, a 16-year congressional veteran from Wisconsin who argued unsuccessfully against some of Nixon's Viet Nam policies while he was Secretary of Defense, is a far more independent-minded adviser than John Ehrlichman, the congressional critic and highly protective Nixon loyalist whom he replaces.
Although always an obedient aide, Haig is more accessible and has more good cheer than his predecessor, the dour H.R. Haldeman. Says one Nixon aide: "Haldeman issued orders. You work with Haig as an equal." A former assistant to Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara in the Johnson Administration and to Henry Kissinger in the Nixon Administration, Haig leapfrogged from colonel to four-star Army Vice Chief of Staff in three years. He had been expected to head the reconstruction of the post-Viet Nam Army.
Kelley (see box next page) seems to have a far keener appreciation of the FBI'S nonpolitical role than did the hapless L. Patrick Gray III, who failed to get Senate confirmation as FBI director because of his cozy cooperation with the White House in the Watergate investigation.
In a less encouraging move, Nixon rewarded the loyalty of his embattled press secretary, Ronald Ziegler, by making him an assistant to the President and giving him the title of Director of Communications. The latter job is being vacated by Herbert Klein, a Nixon associate of some 25 years, who was effectively cut off from White House power by Haldeman and Ehrlichman —and thus is unblemished by Watergate. Klein will become a vice president for corporate relations for Metromedia.
After thus shoring up his command, the President seemed to set out purposely to create an air of normality. In public, at least, he was all broad smiles, and in private his congressional leaders and Cabinet members encountered an animated and attentive President. He listened to their complaints, nodded his head frequently in agreement, asked so licitously: "Are you getting enough political input? Are we keeping in close enough touch with the leadership?"
From within the White House came the word: "The boss says we have turned the corner on Watergate."