Richard Nixon: The Biggest Scandal in American History

Here’s a sanitized version of the provided YouTube transcript, with inappropriate language and potentially offensive phrases removed or altered for a more neutral tone:

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It’s the biggest scandal in US history. On August 8, 1974, Richard Milhouse Nixon became the first-ever president to resign, mere days before Congress could impeach him. The cause of this significant event was the Watergate Scandal, an attempted wiretapping of the Democratic National Election Headquarters and its subsequent coverup. Even now, after four decades of scandals as varied as Iran-Contra, Monica Lewinsky, and various events in 2016, Watergate remains the gold standard of high crimes and misdemeanors. The suffix “-Gate” has even entered the lexicon as a denotation of scandal.

But while most of us are aware of Watergate, how much do we know about the man behind it all? Born into a blue-collar family in 1913, Richard Nixon was a natural political animal. Throughout his House and Senate careers, he earned a reputation as a formidable opponent. First as Eisenhower’s VP, then as President in his own right, he oversaw initiatives that transformed America. Yet the 37th President would wind up undermining his own legacy in a dramatic way. Flawed, paranoid, brilliant; this is the tale of Richard Nixon, the most controversial president.

**The Glory of Poverty**

As he would often say, the 37th President came from a challenging background. Born on January 9, 1913, in Yorba Linda, California, Richard Milhouse Nixon grew up not in a mansion, but a modest home he shared with four siblings. His perpetually angry father, Frank, owned a service station and a small, failing citrus farm that never brought in much more than a handful of pennies. As Nixon would later reminisce: “We were poor, but the glory of it was we didn’t know it.” However, you could argue this statement was not entirely accurate. For his entire adult life, Nixon would privately express resentment towards those born with privilege: the Kennedys, or the wealthy New Yorkers he perceived as adversaries. Young Nixon may well have been poor, but he seemed to be aware of it.

Still, this wasn’t the sort of grinding poverty that hollows you out. Growing up, Nixon found time to read stacks of books, run for class president, and engage his Quaker mother in energetic debates. It was in these good-natured arguments that he got his first taste of politics.

The dawning of the 1920s brought a string of bad news for the Nixon family. First, the family citrus farm went under, forcing them to leave their home and move to nearby Whittier. Then, Nixon’s youngest brother Arthur died in 1925, aged only 7. A few years later, his oldest brother, Harold, also passed away after a long illness. It was a traumatic time for the family. But you wouldn’t know it from looking at Nixon. At Whittier High School, the boy excelled, eventually graduating second in his class. He was offered a scholarship to Harvard but, alas, the family was too poor to send him away. Instead, Nixon had to make do with a local Quaker college. Still, the boy applied himself, earning a reputation as a debate champion, a great football player, and a charismatic actor in the school’s drama productions.

When he graduated in 1934, Nixon was so impressive that Duke University’s law school practically offered him a scholarship. By 1937, Nixon was a 24-year-old qualified lawyer with some of the best grades in the state. He should’ve been set for life. But things weren’t so easy for a boy from a challenging background. Every prestigious law firm Nixon applied to turned him down. Stung, Nixon returned to Whittier. He moved in above his parents’ garage, got a dead-end job at a small law firm, and contemplated how unfair life was. Here he was, a gifted boy with the grades to match, forced to struggle because of his family’s financial situation.

But while returning to Whittier left a bitter taste Nixon would never shake, it did have one positive outcome. In 1938, Nixon joined a local community theatre. There, at a rehearsal on January 18, he met Thelma Catherine Ryan. Known to her friends as “Pat,” she was glamorous and captivating. After driving her home that evening, the young lawyer declared: “I’d like to have a date with you.” To which she replied: “I’m busy.” Not exactly a fairytale romance. But Nixon persevered. When he heard Pat enjoyed ice skating—a sport he’d never tried—he spent weeks learning how to skate, just so he could “accidentally” meet her at the rink. Finally, after a year as just friends, Pat agreed to that date. On June 21, 1940, Nixon and Pat were married. Together, they agreed to keep chasing their dreams and to remain ambitious.

Two years later, they moved from California to Washington, D.C., where Nixon got a job in the Office of Price Administration. It was the 29-year-old’s first foray into the world of politics. It certainly wouldn’t be his last.

**Street Fighting Man**

In the end, Nixon lasted less than a year in the Office of Price Administration. An FDR New Deal program, it was the embodiment of big government, something that troubled Nixon deeply. He quit in disgust. But rather than return to practicing law, he joined the Navy. This was a commendable decision. As a Quaker, Nixon was exempt from serving—something of a get-out-of-jail-free card considering the massive war going on. But Nixon enlisted regardless, serving in the Pacific. Although he never saw combat, he still managed to earn two service stars before resigning his commission in January 1946.

Barely had Nixon swapped his starched uniform for a dull gray suit than a group of Republicans from his hometown approached him with an interesting proposition. Five-term Democrat Jerry Voorhis was up for reelection in California’s 12th District. Despite being soft on Communism, no Republican had ever been able to unseat him. But with a war hero as their candidate, then maybe… just maybe…

Throughout 1946, Nixon campaigned with the same determination he’d shown in pursuing Pat. Despite his reputation, Voorhis’s actual connections to Communism were non-existent. So, Nixon fabricated them. At a town hall debate, Nixon flourished a scrap of paper supposedly linking Voorhis to a Communist-linked PAC. Never mind that Nixon was actually talking about a completely different PAC. Never mind that Voorhis was against Communism. In voters’ minds, the Democrat was now a Red. Come November, they voted for Nixon in droves. It was Nixon’s first experience with negative campaigning—the art of not making yourself look good, but making your opponent look worse. He was remarkably skilled at it.

After a short stint in the House—which included the successful prosecution of Alger Hiss, a State Department employee turned Soviet spy—Nixon ran for the Senate. This time, his campaigning was so negative it approached absolute zero. Nixon slandered his opponent as “pink right down to her underwear.” His staff handed out “pink sheets,” falsely comparing her voting record to that of Communists. As in 1946, it worked. Nixon became Senator. However, he also picked up something else alongside his Senate seat. Aghast at his negative campaign, the California press branded Nixon “Tricky Dick.” It was a nickname that would stick with him for life.

But what did Nixon care? From a bright, blue-collar kid spurned by elites, he had gone on to become a Washington insider. And his meteoric rise wouldn’t stop there. In 1952, Republican nominee Dwight D. Eisenhower picked Nixon to be his running mate, hoping that Nixon’s California roots would win him the West. It was Nixon’s ticket to the big leagues. It was also nearly his undoing. That September, the New York Post splashed a story of a secret Nixon slush fund using campaign donations to support his lifestyle. Although untrue, it nearly derailed Nixon’s chances. Eisenhower called him and basically said: “Look, Dick. Sort out this situation or I’ll find a new VP. Got it?” Nixon got it.

On September 23, 1952, Richard Nixon went on TV to explain himself. It was the first-ever political speech televised live, drawing a staggering 60 million viewers. Before them all, Nixon laid bare his finances in painful detail, painting a picture of a struggling, relatable man. The speech was full of personal touches, such as when Nixon confessed: “Pat doesn’t have a mink coat. But she does have a respectable Republican cloth coat, and I always tell her she would look good in anything.” But what made the speech famous was when Nixon announced he had been given one political gift: a cocker spaniel named Checkers that his children loved. And, he declared, they were going to keep that dog. Known as the Checkers Speech today, the live broadcast saved Nixon’s career. Eisenhower called him up and declared, “You’re my boy.” That November 4, the Eisenhower-Nixon ticket won in a landslide. It now seemed that Nixon’s rise was unstoppable.

**Rise, Fall, and Rise**

There’s an Eisenhower quote that brilliantly sums up Nixon’s time as VP. Asked by a reporter what policies his Vice President had contributed, Eisenhower wryly replied: “If you give me a week, I might think of one.” But while Nixon wasn’t transforming the nation as VP, he was still working hard on his main project: to make Richard Nixon look as much like a future president as possible. That meant doing things like going on a tour of Venezuela, where he won praise for calmly dealing with an anti-American mob. It meant things like traveling to the USSR, where he engaged Premier Nikita Khrushchev in a spirited debate inside a model American kitchen.

In this quest, Nixon was helped by Eisenhower’s failing health. Starting in 1955, Eisenhower suffered a series of heart attacks that often left Nixon as de facto president. Despite worries he’d use his temporary role as a platform for personal gain, Nixon won praise as a sober, sensible leader. So, when Eisenhower’s second term expired and it became time to pick the next Republican nominee, everyone was squarely behind Nixon. With his experience, Nixon hoped the 1960 election would be a straightforward affair, continuing his unstoppable rise. Unfortunately, the blue-collar boy was about to face a significant challenge.

You all know the tale of the 1960 election. How fresh-faced, vibrant John Kennedy completely outperformed Nixon. But while most people credit JFK’s media savvy and wise pick of Lyndon Johnson as his running mate for his victory, Nixon saw it another way. As the presidency slipped from his grasp, Nixon became convinced that the true culprit wasn’t Kennedy’s charisma or even the recent recession. It was Kennedy’s money. As far as Nixon was concerned, this was just another case of the elites undermining the working-class boy. That November, he felt he didn’t lose the presidency so much as have it taken from him. It was the end of Nixon’s rise… and the start of his long fall.

His career in tatters, Nixon returned to California. There, local Republicans convinced him to run for governor. Just two years after failing to become president, Nixon lost California’s gubernatorial race by a significant margin. In the wake of the defeat, Nixon called a press conference, where he bitterly declared: “You won’t have Nixon to kick around anymore, because, gentlemen, this is my last press conference.” What followed was a period in the political wilderness. Being in the political wilderness was far more comfortable than the actual wilderness, and saw Nixon become financially successful for the first time from his law practice. It also saw the former political street fighter refashion himself as an elder statesman, making measured observations on the Vietnam War.

However, Nixon was still politically minded enough to campaign for Barry Goldwater in the 1964 election. Although Goldwater lost, Nixon’s support made him a favorite of the Republican right. It was almost like Nixon was courting conservatives, building himself a power base in case he ever decided to run for president again. It was a shrewd move. As 1968 approached, the Republican party began searching for its next standard-bearer. The obvious choice was an electrifying rising star from California; a former actor seen as the future of the party. That actor’s name was Ronald Reagan, and he’d go on to transform the GOP’s fortunes. But not in 1968. As Reagan’s popularity grew, Nixon crept back out of the shadows, beginning to approach prominent conservatives to ensure they lined up behind him. By the time Reagan’s campaign really got underway, the nomination had already been secured.

That August, 1968, Nixon was unanimously declared the Republican nominee. By now, the Democrats were in chaos. Lyndon B. Johnson had refused to run; the convention had seen riots; and frontrunner Bobby Kennedy had been assassinated. Against that backdrop, what else could possibly happen? On November 5, 1968, Richard Nixon swept the electoral college to win the presidency. His popular vote share—43%—was one of the lowest in history, diminished by third-party candidate George Wallace. But a win was still a win. Against all odds, he’d shown them. Shown those elite individuals, those Kennedys, those New York liberals. The Nixon era had now begun… and Tricky Dick was certain it would go down in history.

**Do You Remember…Your President Nixon?**

Normally in a presidential biography, this would be the point to discuss their term in office, hopefully with some humor thrown in. But, since this video is only 26 minutes, and we’ve still got a significant topic called Watergate to discuss, we’re going to have to give you the barest overview of the Nixon presidency. And that’s a shame, because there’s so much to talk about.

Take school busing. Although education had been desegregated under Eisenhower, geographic separation meant most schools were still racially homogeneous. One solution was school busing, which involved transporting Black children into white schools. Although Nixon was against the practice, a Supreme Court ruling forced him to enforce it. Nixon’s solution? New Federalism. At its heart, New Federalism was desegregation—but done by local communities rather than the federal government. Biracial committees were established across the South, each charged with implementing desegregation. Rather than simply passing the responsibility, it actually worked. Between Nixon’s election and 1970, the number of Black children in racially segregated schools dropped from 70 percent to only 18 percent.

Then there’s the environment. If you’re below a certain age, the words “Republican president” plus “environment” probably conjure images of individuals in expensive suits gleefully harming the environment. But not Nixon. Tricky Dick was well aware that environmental issues were a vote winner among moderate Democrats, so he leaned into them. It was on Nixon’s watch that the Environmental Protection Agency was created, and the Clean Air Act passed.

Another area Nixon supported was women’s rights. While Nixon’s environmentalism came mostly from a strategic perspective, his desire for gender equality was mostly sincere. Nixon directed the federal government to launch affirmative action on women’s rights and passed legislation like Title IX, forbidding sex discrimination in education.

Then there was war. It was Nixon who started both the War on Cancer and the War on Drugs, plus the actual War in Cambodia after he authorized US incursions. That last one, by the way, led to one of the most infamous non-Watergate moments of his presidency. On May 4, 1970, peaceful demonstrators gathered at Kent State. There, before hundreds of witnesses, the Ohio National Guard shot dead four unarmed individuals and injured another nine. Despite massive public outcry, the Nixon White House didn’t prosecute any guardsmen.

The last major Nixon initiative we should discuss is China. In February 1972, Nixon surprised the world by visiting the Middle Kingdom. “Surprised” because, until that point, China had been America’s primary adversary, right behind the USSR. But Nixon realized he could keep the USSR in check by cozying up to Beijing. Although the move was strategic, it’s now seen as the moment Communist China started opening up to the world.

So there you have it. Four years of Nixon—four of the most dramatic years in modern US history—condensed into about 400 words. And we still had to leave so much out; from the Oil Crisis to ending the draft to the Nixon Shock that ended Bretton-Woods and set the stage for a decade of stagflation. Still, at least you’re now aware there was more to the Nixon presidency than merely scandal, especially as we move towards the biggest scandal of all. It’s finally time to talk about Watergate.

**Watergate – Part One**

The Watergate scandal is complex. Although Nixon’s first term was outwardly successful, behind the scenes, his paranoia was increasing. In February of 1971, the 37th President installed a secret taping system in the White House, one activated the moment anyone entered the room. But the real turmoil started on June 13, 1971. That was the day the New York Times published the Pentagon Papers—top-secret documents revealing American atrocities and incompetence in Vietnam. While the papers stopped with Lyndon Johnson’s White House, Nixon was still outraged at the leak. It was from this outrage that the White House Plumbers were formed. A top-secret team, the Plumbers were there to stop leaks through spying, sabotage, and break-ins. Their first act was to break into the office of the psychiatrist who treated the Pentagon Papers’ leaker. It wouldn’t be the last time the Plumbers got involved in something questionable.

Fast forward to 1972. Nixon is up for reelection, and his most likely opponent is the formidable Democratic Senator, Edmund Muskie. That spring, a bizarre string of problems beset Muskie. White voters in early states were harassed by late-night phone calls from rude individuals claiming to be Black supporters of Muskie. Others received letters on Muskie stationery that spread absurd conspiracy theories about his primary opponents. Yes, it was Nixon, back to his old negative campaigning. But now he had help from both the Plumbers and the Campaign to Reelect the President—pleasingly abbreviated to CREEP. And CREEP would stop at nothing to fulfill their mission.

By April, the pressure had derailed Muskie’s run, but still the Plumbers were at it. At 2 a.m. on June 17, 1972, they broke into Democratic Party HQ in the Watergate Office Building, intending to bug the place. Instead, they got caught by a security guard. Within two days, the Washington Post was reporting that one of the burglars was a salaried member of CREEP, but Nixon assumed it