The Week the Cloud Burst

In an Administration bedeviled by scandal, Henry Kissinger stood out as a bright and admired example of integrity. His supporters were already calling him the most successful Secretary of State in this century. Coupled with his foreign policy accomplishments, his urbane wit and lucid intelligence had made him, according to a recent poll, the most popular man in the U.S. Government. Yet there was a small cloud: persistent rumors dating even before his selection as Secretary of State that he might be involved in the rather unpleasant business of wiretapping some of his colleagues.

The cloud was dissipated by a dozen suns. The Kissinger who journeyed to China like a modern Marco Polo went on to other foreign policy victories, won almost unanimous confirmation as Secretary of State from the Senate Foreign Relations Committee last fall, and only two weeks ago returned in triumph from the Middle East after accomplishing a great diplomatic feat. No wonder that Kissinger, basking in success, did not notice that the cloud behind his shoulder had grown darker and more threatening in his absence.

Last week Henry Kissinger's cloud burst, and he suddenly found himself in the Watergate storm. In an extraordinary, intensely emotional press conference in Salzburg, Austria, on the eve of Richard Nixon's trip to the Middle East, the Secretary of State vented his anger at what he considered unjust charges against his honor. He threatened, in imperial tones befitting a President, to resign.

Though he spent most of his hour-long conference answering the intricate details of the complicity charged against him, he properly cast his case in terms of integrity. No one had yet accused him of a crime; even if he had ordered wiretapping, it was considered legal at the time. What was at issue, however, was whether Henry Kissinger was a man who told the truth--a test to which the American public has become extremely sensitive in the era of Watergate.

Grim-faced, gritting his teeth, his voice quavering, Kissinger angrily declared that "I do not believe it is possible to conduct the foreign policy of the United States under these circumstances when the character and credibility of the Secretary of State is at issue. And if it is not cleared up, I will resign. I have been generally identified, or it has been alleged that I am supposed to be interested primarily in the balance of power. I would rather like to think that when the record is written, one may remember that perhaps some lives were saved and perhaps that some mothers can rest more at ease, but I leave that to history.

"What I will not leave to history is the discussion of my public honor. I have believed that I should do what I could to heal divisions in this country. I believed that I should do what I could to maintain the dignity of American values and to give Americans some pride in the conduct of their affairs. I can do this only if my honor is not at issue. If that cannot be maintained, I cannot perform the duties that I have exercised, and in that case I shall turn them over immediately to individuals less subject to public attack."

Annoyed to Tears. He demanded that the accusers who had been leaking documents to the press identify themselves and explain their motives. He revealed that he had already asked the Senate Foreign Relations Committee to reopen its investigation of the wiretap controversy and give him a clean bill of health.

Kissinger's outburst caught the world by surprise. It was odd for a diplomat who prides himself on his reserves of humor and self-control to indulge in such a public baring of his anger and frustration. And it left startled observers wondering whether the pervasive suspicions spawned by Watergate would finally claim the best and brightest the Administration had to offer.

Why did Kissinger do it? His friends blame it on exhaustion,* compounded by hubris and an extreme sensitivity to criticism. Kissinger, 51, himself admitted during the Salzburg conference that his first meeting with the press and its tough questions about Watergate after his return from the Middle East left him "irritated, angered, flustered, discombobulated." For days after, Kissinger brooded over that press conference. He thought that the attacks were unfair and exaggerated out of all proportion when compared with his achievements in foreign policy. He conveyed his unhappiness to friends, newsmen and legislators and sought their advice over the weekend before his trip with the President.

"The question about perjury was the one that really got under his skin," said one aide. "It annoyed him to tears." The more he thought about it, the more he considered resigning. Senate Majority Leader Mike Mansfield advised him "to roll with the punches and do what the rest of us do with criticism: try to add another layer of skin." But before one had a chance to grow, Kissinger read the adverse newspaper editorials badgering him to come clean on the wiretaps. Within hours of his departure with Nixon for the Middle East, he sent a letter to the Senate Foreign Relations Committee requesting a hearing on his role in the wiretaps; then he decided to hold the explosive Salzburg press conference.

The immediate reaction to his outburst was a surge of support for the hyperactive Secretary. A majority of the U.S. Senate co-sponsored a resolution expressing complete confidence in him. Top Democrats-- Mansfield, House Speaker Carl Albert, House Majority Leader Thomas P. O'Neill--urged him not to step down. His resignation, said Thomas E. Morgan, chairman of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, would be "tragic." Senator Edmund Muskie declared that the Secretary has been a "brilliant servant, and his record deserves the support of his countrymen until there is a record to show the contrary."

While supporting Kissinger, a minority were more than a little skeptical about his threat to resign. "I think he is tired and has been working too hard," said Hubert Humphrey. "I would say to him as a friend: 'Cool it, stay with it. You'll get a fair hearing.' " In saltier fashion, 81-year-old George Aiken, ranking Republican on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, commented: "The goddam fool. Can't he take it? Why that's part of the business --being criticized." Senator William Fulbright, chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, advised "everyone in this distracted city to calm down."

No Choice. Even Kissinger's staunchest supporters agree that his Salzburg press conference was a mistake. By threatening to resign, Kissinger simply added to his troubles. Until he overdramatized the situation, not many people took it too seriously. They wanted explanations, not a resignation. The Senate Foreign Relations Committee, in particular, was extremely friendly to Kissinger. The committee was perfectly willing to forget about the whole wiretap episode in the interest of letting Kissinger function as Secretary of State. But now that he has demanded another investigation of the affair, the committee has no choice but to comply. Its hearings will keep the issue before the public for weeks, and possibly months more.

The key points in question:

Did Kissinger originate the wiretaps or merely consent to them? In his testimony before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee last September and again in Salzburg last week, he stated that he had supplied names of people* with access to information that was being leaked; he insisted that he did not suggest the wiretaps. FBI memos that have been leaked imply that Kissinger in his role as Nixon's head of the National Security Council played a more active part. A 1973 FBI report on taps placed in 1969 states: "The original requests were from either Dr. Henry Kissinger or General Alexander Haig (then Colonel Haig) for wiretap coverage on knowledgeable National Security Council personnel and certain newsmen who had particular news interest in the SALT talks." Since Haig was Kissinger's subordinate, he obviously could not have ordered the taps without Kissinger's approval. In a memo by the late FBI director J. Edgar Hoover about a 1969 conversation with Kissinger, Hoover reported that Kissinger said he would "destroy whoever is leaking if we can find him, no matter where he is." TIME has learned Hoover also told Kissinger that the taps could not be placed until Attorney General John Mitchell approved them. Kissinger then went to Mitchell, who responded: "If the President wants it done, it's all right with me."

Still, the evidence is less clear than it seems. President Nixon has already asserted that he personally ordered the taps. In that event, Kissinger was doing the President's bidding. Hoover also had the habit of rather indiscriminately putting names down as initiators of wiretaps. Kissinger may have been a victim of this practice.

Did Kissinger read the wiretap logs? In his press conference, he denied that "any verbatim transcript was ever sent to my office." He saw only short summaries bearing on national security. "It is totally incorrect and outrageous to say that these taps that were submitted to my office involved a description of extramarital affairs or pornographic descriptions. The implication that my office was spending its time reading salacious reports by subordinates is a symptom of the poisonous atmosphere characteristic of our public discussion." Yet an FBI report shows that Kissinger made a trip to bureau headquarters in May 1969 to examine the raw logs. After leafing through them the report indicates that he said: "It is clear that I don't have anybody in my office I can trust except Colonel Haig."

But there is no present evidence that Kissinger regularly read the wiretap reports. "What was sent to my office was a page-and-a-half summary of conversations that seemed to the FBI to involve issues of national security. These memoranda were then screened in my office, and if, in the judgment of those who screened the memoranda, they were of sufficient importance, they were shown to me."

Did the Senate Foreign Relations Committee have access to all FBI reports on the wiretaps? In Salzburg, Kissinger suggested that the FBI reports were made available to members of the Foreign Relations Committee. In fact, the committee had requested the reports but was turned down by the Justice Department. Instead, Deputy Attorney General William Ruckelshaus examined the reports and then wrote a summary, which was later shown to Attorney General Elliot Richardson and only two members of the Foreign Relations Committee--John Sparkman and Clifford Case. Though Kissinger's recollections differed at times from the documentary record, the Senators were satisfied with his explanation. Says Richardson: "A skillful prosecutor asking hostile questions of Kissinger on the stand might convince a jury that he did play a greater role. It was a question of whether you believed Henry or not. I think I certainly wanted to believe him --and so did the committee."

The committee has now been given assurances that it will receive the full FBI file. It is possible that the raw reports may prove damaging to Kissinger, but that is the calculated risk he takes. By going the "hang-out route," as the President would say, Kissinger exposes himself to hostile interpretation of his past actions. But his bold action could also gain him sympathy from his numerous supporters, who do not want him to resign.

Did Kissinger know that the "plumbers unit" was set up to investigate leaks to the news media? He claims that he was in the dark about the espionage unit, even though one of his former aides, David Young, was in charge of it. In an affidavit filed in U.S. district court in Washington, D.C., Presidential Advisor John Ehrlichman claimed that Kissinger participated in a conversation about the plumbers that led to the appointment of Young over Kissinger's objection. It has also been revealed that Kissinger once listened to a taped interview conducted by Young on a security matter.

At Salzburg, the Secretary replied that he had only a vague recollection of the conversation about Young because it took place during a 40-minute helicopter ride shortly after he returned from his initial trip to China; he had his mind, understandably, on other things--and besides, the motor's roar was deafening. On the matter of the interview, he said that it was "inconceivable" to him how he was supposed to know from the evidence of one taped interview what Young was doing. As he puts it, "The only thing at issue is whether I deliberately lied about knowing about the existence of an organization, the substance of which, by common agreement, I had nothing to do with."

The extent of his knowledge about the plumbers' dirty tricks is the cloudiest issue. Though a number of former aides and Administration sources privately insist that Kissinger was well aware of the plumbers, no public evidence has yet been produced.

Hard-Ball. If Kissinger was indeed hazy on some of the details of the Nixon White House security operations, he may well have preferred it that way. At the time of the installation of the wiretaps, he--an outsider and intellectual--was himself suspected of leaking by Nixon loyalists of many years' standing. While Kissinger tried to establish himself and his policies, the "hard-ball" players--H.R. Haldeman, Ehrlichman, Charles Colson et al--viewed him as an academic oddity and a doubtful ally at best. He may have consented to the wiretaps partly to ingratiate himself, to prove that he could play hard ball too. No matter how distasteful he considered wiretaps, however, Kissinger believed that they were justified in the case of officials holding sensitive posts with access to material whose release could be harmful to the nation.

Though few people in Washington expect Kissinger to quit, resignation is hardly out of the question in the charged atmosphere of Watergate. Last week Paul Nitze resigned his post as a top representative to the SALT talks, declaring that "until the office of the presidency has been restored to its principal function of upholding the Constitution and taking care of the fair execution of the laws, and thus is able to function effectively at home and abroad, I see no real prospect for reversing certain unfortunate trends."

In a perverse way, the White House may almost welcome Kissinger's plight.

"The Kissinger outburst may have indirectly improved Nixon's position," says a White House aide. "Kissinger has now dramatically echoed, amplified and given credibility to many claims being made by Nixon. Kissinger raised the alarm that the political atmosphere of the country is being poisoned by enemies of the Administration, that leaks have got out of hand, that the nation's system of fairness and due process have broken down."

There certainly is some question whether Kissinger should be tried by anonymous leaks. Though some of the leakers are no doubt well motivated and want to see justice done, others act for partisan reasons of one kind or another. Kissinger is being attacked, at least in part, because he works for Nixon. Bringing him down would be the next best thing to ousting the boss.

"It seems to me," Kissinger said at Salzburg, "that our national debate has now reached a point where public officials are required to submit their most secret documents to public scrutiny, where unnamed sources can attack the credibility and the honor of senior officials of the Government without even being asked to identify themselves."

Though he is no admirer of Kissinger's policies of detente, Senator Barry Goldwater insisted that the fundamental issue is not the Secretary of State's honesty but the leaking that has gone out of control. "Apparently anything goes nowadays," said Goldwater. "Any Government employee with any kind of information feels free to hand it over to the nearest Washington Post reporter he can find. Perhaps the problem is that Dr. Kissinger is a diplomat, not a policeman. He apparently found himself confronted with a situation in which highly secret information of an international nature was being leaked, and he took the necessary steps to have it halted. Personally, I believe [Kissinger] would have been derelict in his duty if he had not done everything in his power, including suggesting the imposition of wiretaps, to discover the source of dangerous leaks in the Government."

The real concern for the nation, of course, is not the leaks. It is the disturbing--if inconclusive--evidence that places in question Kissinger's honesty. Until that is resolved, the Secretary of State is likely to have to give up his global diplomatic shuttle and search for peace at home.

* The rigors of travel also took their toll of his bride Nancy. Last week she entered the Bethesda Naval Medical Center to undergo treatment for an ulcer. * Including Morton Halperin and Anthony Lake, two of his aides on the National Security Council. Their phones were later bugged and both have sued Kissinger, claiming the taps were illegal.

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