A Texan Who Goes His Own Way

When Richard Nixon picked Leon Jaworski as special prosecutor, there were those who darkly suspected that the fix was in. Jaworski, a 68-year-old Texas Democrat who had been close to Lyndon Johnson, had quietly supported Nixon for re-election in 1972. As a highly successful $200,000-a-year trial attorney, he was a pillar of the Houston Establishment. There were unconfirmed reports that his appointment had been cleared by John Connally to make sure that he had a proper understanding of the President's predicament.

Quietly, efficiently, going his own way, Jaworski has turned out to be nobody's man but his own, determined that justice be done. Says a close associate: "Anyone who thought that Leon would not press the Watergate investigation with full vigor and integrity simply did not know Leon." He has remained scrupulously open-minded. Jaworski puts it this way, in his soft-spoken Texas drawl: "At my stage of life, do you think I would come in here and be part of anything that would ruin whatever name and reputation I have established over the years?"

The special prosecutor's staff of 38 lawyers needed much reassuring. Outraged and discouraged by the firing of Archibald Cox, the attorneys were fearful that the Texan might slow down the investigation. Their anxieties were soon allayed: one of his first orders was for everyone on the staff to proceed full speed ahead in his previously assigned area of investigation.

After an initial period to familiarize himself with all the evidence, Jaworski took the lead. He has made all the key decisions on such questions as plea bargaining and cooperation with the House Judiciary Committee. He refused on principle to meet with Nixon on accepting the assignment. He has since turned down two invitations from the President to see him. Jaworski has largely dealt with the White House through Chief of Staff Alexander Haig--with increasing impatience, though he recognizes that Haig is simply a "good soldier" obeying his commander in chiefs orders. The prosecutor was kind and courtly on the surface, as he is most of the time to everybody, but he continued to insist on getting documents that the White House was reluctant to hand over. He finally obtained most but not all of them by threatening to go to court.

From the White House point of view, he is no improvement on Cox. He is often even more tenacious and less tolerant of anything that stands in his way. A pragmatic and informal man with a prosecutor's instinct for the kill, Jaworski is not so interested as Cox was in legal theory and lengthy staff discussions on the meaning of the law. Once his cases are sound, he wants to get them quickly to court. He is also a remarkably direct and succinct man in verbose Washington, setting some kind of record in his rare TV interview appearances for the number of questions answered per square minute of air time.

Jaworski's call to action in Washington came at a time when his ambitions were behind him and largely fulfilled. He was perfectly content to continue his law practice and spend his spare time on his more than 800-acre ranch, where he enjoys clearing the land with chain saws and raising quarter horses.

The son of an Evangelical Lutheran minister who had migrated from Poland, Jaworski was born in Waco, Texas. The family was poor; Jaworski, his two brothers and sister worked their way through Baylor University, where Leon earned a law degree in 1925. He became so skilled a courtroom lawyer that he was hired by a leading Houston law firm, Fulbright, Crocker, Freeman & Bates. Through the years, he showed a talent for absorbing a mass of complex information literally overnight and giving a masterly performance in court the next morning. He became a senior partner in 1951. Today Fulbright, Crocker & Jaworski ranks second only to John Connally's law firm of Vinson, Elkins, Searls, Connally & Smith in power and prestige in Texas. In 1971 Jaworski was honored when he was selected president of the American Bar Association.

While on the rise he inevitably bumped into another Texas poor boy making good--Lyndon Johnson. Twice he came to L.B.J.'s rescue. In 1948 he helped defend Johnson against charges of fraud in a Senate primary election that L.B.J. won by a contested 87 votes. In 1960 Jaworski was L.B.J.'s attorney in suits that sought to prevent him from running simultaneously for Vice President and for Senator. When L.B.J. was President, he wanted to appoint Jaworski Attorney General. But sensitive to charges of cronyism, the President reluctantly named Ramsey Clark instead. By conservative Texas standards, in fact, Jaworski has often been a maverick. He defended a liberal school-board member who was under furious attack from conservatives, and he was chosen to prosecute former Mississippi Governor Ross Barnett for criminal contempt for trying to block desegregation.

Compared with his expansive Texas style of living, Jaworski has a relatively spartan existence in Washington. He normally lunches on a sandwich at his desk, then goes home at 7 p.m. to a small Washington hotel, where he lives with his wife of 43 years, Jeanette. Their son Joe is a lawyer in Houston; their daughters Joanie and Claire are both married.

When his tasks as special prosecutor are finished, Jaworski will go back to Texas. Friends used to fret that like so many others connected with Watergate, he would return a diminished figure. That no longer seems much of a hazard.

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