Richard Nixon is rapidly running out of options in his struggle to survive Watergate. Last week he exercised a fresh one. Pushing his Special Counsel James St. Clair out front in a political as well as a legal role, Nixon embarked on a drive to save himself by appealing directly to the public and assailing the tactics of the House Judiciary Committee, which is investigating his conduct in office. It was much too early to assess public reaction, but the impact on the House of Representatives was immediate. The tactic backfired, and impeachment sentiment rose.
As both the President and St. Clair, a shrewd and highly successful Boston trial lawyer, moved boldly into the public arena, the outlines of the three-pronged White House offensive were sharply etched. The strategy seeks to:
1) Goad the House Judiciary Committee into hastily subpoenaing presidential tapes and documents and basing its entire impeachment case on a contempt of Congress citation against Nixon for obstructing the impeachment inquiry if, as he has so far, he refuses to yield the evidence. Nixon apparently believes that such a charge would be too thin to enlist broad public support and that even if impeached by the House on that charge, he could muster the 34 votes necessary in a Senate trial to retain his office.
2) Delay any broader impeachment move by stalling in the delivery of requested evidence, continuing to raise legal technicalities, and resorting to time-consuming court action. Delay could erode public interest in the whole sordid scandal. Stalling could also push the crucial impeachment vote closer to the November elections—thus making it more risky for any incumbent Congressman—and perhaps even cause the problem to be carried over into the next session of Congress.
3) Solidify the President's hard-core support and play on the more general public fear of forcibly removing any President from office. This is being done through a public relations campaign designed to highlight the President's achievements in office and the sanctity of the presidency itself. At the same time the effort seeks to obfuscate and obscure Nixon's own Watergate role and portray impeachment as a partisan movement spearheaded by political enemies. At a minimum, the aim is to build enough pressure on normally friendly Senators to prevent conviction on any House-approved impeachment charge.
Most of this strategy was probably devised by Nixon himself, but it has both come together and reached its peak since St. Clair became his chief legal strategist early in January. Not only is Nixon being scrutinized by the Judiciary Committee but, more important, he is on trial in the court of public opinion. At long last he has a lawyer who—unlike his previous counsel—is a seasoned courtroom attorney. Moreover, St. Clair's Washington experience (see box page 12) goes back to the classic Army-McCarthy hearings of 1954, when he was an assistant to Joseph N. Welch, the Army's counsel. A poised and suave performer, he has brought an aura of aggressive confidence to Nixon's defense campaign. "Jim has been a bonanza for us," observes Alexander Haig, Nixon's overworked chief of staff. Haig describes St. Clair as a man who has "considerable acumen" in the highly charged and shifting political atmosphere of Watergate. "He