NIXON LIBRARY : THE MAN : Driven by Sense of Destiny, Nixon Finds Peace Is at Hand

Richard M. Nixon seemed strangely detached on Aug. 9, 1974, the day he resigned as President of the United States. His farewell speech was so rambling and emotional that some feared he was losing touch with reality. He nearly wept as he summoned the memory of his dead mother--a “saint,” he called her--and then suggested that Watergate was nothing more than a test of his greatness.

“We think sometimes when things don’t go the right way, when we suffer a defeat, that all has ended,” he said. “Not true. It is only a beginning, always. Greatness comes not when things always go good for you, but the greatness comes when you are really tested, when you take some knocks, some disappointments, when sadness comes. Because only if you have been in the deepest valley can you ever know how magnificent it is to be on the highest mountain.”

A noble sentiment, indeed, but coming as it did in the wake of a House Judiciary Committee vote to impeach him, it sounded more like the blather of a terribly distraught man who could not face up to the humiliation he had brought on himself and his nation. After all, no other American President had been forced to resign. Most Americans did not see the Watergate scandal as a test of Nixon’s greatness. On the contrary, it was a measure of how far he had fallen.

But even today, Nixon clings to the notion that the failure of his presidency was just another obstacle he had to overcome. Over the past 16 years since he resigned, he has never wavered from the belief that history will judge him to be a great man--that the deep valley of Watergate will not obscure the high mountains of achievement in foreign policy.

His sense of destiny has not only sustained Nixon through long hours of private anguish, it has also been the motivation behind his efforts over the past decade to gradually refurbish his reputation. Indeed, it is the reason for his re-emergence as a public figure.

Although Nixon’s name will long be synonymous with the abuse of presidential power, time and his own tenacity have permitted him to shed much of the aura of shame he carried with him when he left the White House that day. In the minds of many Americans, he has finally transformed himself into the elder statesman he wanted to be.

The opening of the Nixon library is another step in the process he believes will restore him to an honored place in the American pantheon.

In his own mind, Nixon is much like Winston Churchill, who returned to lead Britain through World War II after spending eight years as a discredited former chancellor of the exchequer. As he writes in his most recent book, “In the Arena,” Nixon first learned about this “withdrawal-return syndrome” in the historical writings of Arnold Toynbee, who described how many men such as Thucydides, Mohammed, Confucius, Peter the Great, Garibaldi and Lenin had been transformed into heroes by withdrawing after a defeat.

It is not surprising that Nixon would cast himself in the mold of these great men. As President, he was responsible for some important developments, including U.S.-Soviet detente and the opening of relations with China. Indeed, his stature in other countries far exceeds his reputation in the United States. And even after nearly two decades in retirement, he is a vigorous 77-year-old who thrives on politics and policy.

Nor is it unusual that the ardor of the Nixon-haters has cooled somewhat.

While many Americans will always see Nixon as a pariah who--in the words of Washington Post political columnist David Broder--”ought to be living his life in private and in disgrace,” our collective national memory is short. Many of today’s adults were only in grammar school the day Nixon resigned. Even some older people who lived through the agony of Watergate now remember it strictly as a burglary.

More recent presidential scandals such as the Iran-Contra affair have also helped to obscure the crimes of Watergate. In the eyes of many political scientists, the deeds of Oliver North and John Poindexter were much worse than anything done by H.R. Haldeman or John Ehrlichman. Ironically, Watergate itself may have diminished the importance of Nixon’s mistakes by permanently raising the level of cynicism among the American people about government and the honesty of their leaders.

Moreover, Nixon himself has done his best over the years to minimize the extraordinary dimensions of the Watergate scandal and portray himself as a valuable player in American foreign policy. No doubt he felt a sense of satisfaction in 1986 when Newsweek magazine first recognized the success of his efforts with a Nixon cover story titled “He’s Back.”

As he sees it, Watergate was nothing more than a political struggle between Nixon and his enemies. His major fault was allowing himself to be preoccupied with foreign policy and failing to pay sufficient attention to the growing controversy surrounding the break-in.

He makes no apologies, draws no lessons. He still insists that he never authorized employees of his campaign committee to burglarize the Democratic National Committee headquarters, never ordered the CIA to obstruct the FBI investigation of Watergate, never deliberately lied to the American people about the role of his Administration in the scandal.

But still, Nixon needs enemies. As he did in office, he draws strength from the knowledge that he still has critics who believe he did all of these illegal deeds, and more. In his writings, he frequently mentions that his actions are being watched.

To earn himself a role in international affairs, Nixon has written six books since his memoirs were published in 1978. He has visited at least 26 foreign countries and often contacts his successors in the White House to give them advice.

When President Reagan sparked a storm of criticism for visiting the Nazi cemetery at Bitburg, West Germany, for example, Nixon wrote him a personal note that sounded a familiar theme: “The test of a head of state is when the going gets tough. You passed the test.”

Nixon’s latest personal project has been to reconcile the United States and China.

President Bush’s controversial policy toward China appears to have been strongly influenced by Nixon. In Nixon’s view, the brutal repression of the Chinese people at Tian An Men Square did not seriously set back progressive reforms in that country.

Although Nixon admits he is trying to affect world events, he denies it is part of a comeback strategy designed to endear him to the American people before he dies. He is striving to be effective, not admired. As he explains it in his book:

“To continue to be even marginally effective, I can accept only a fraction of the invitations that come in. The quicker road to rehabilitation would be to exploit the inevitable public sympathy that comes to even the most controversial public figure with the onset of old age. It would be easy to play the kindly omnipresent elder statesman, attending Rotary conventions and Boy Scout jamborees by score, offering the same warmed-over platitudes to audience after audience, and appearing before the TV cameras whenever I was asked to offer free, unsolicited advice to the President on the latest international or domestic crisis. In short, to stop being a villain in some people’s eyes I would have to become a deadly bore in everybody’s eyes. I could be less controversial but also less relevant, or I could remain controversial but retain a certain amount of influence.”

Indeed, everything Nixon does nowadays is carefully tailored to that principle. He chats frequently with the nation’s most influential people, often inviting them to dine at his home in Saddlebrook, N.J. He often shares his views with reporters, but seldom on the record. While he grants few interviews, he sometimes consents to answer questions in writing, as he did for The Times in conjunction with the opening of his library.

In this way, Nixon succeeds in getting his message across precisely as he wants it.

Not long ago, the Associated Press received a partial transcript of Nixon’s conversation with Deng Xiaoping in Beijing last Oct. 31. In it, the former President urged Deng to permit Chinese dissident Fang Lizhi to leave the country as a first step toward improving U.S.-Sino relations. At the time, Fang was hiding out in the U.S. Embassy in Beijing.

It was no coincidence that the transcript was leaked to AP reporter Jane Allen just a few days after Fang finally left China. Allen said it was given to her by someone who wanted Nixon to be portrayed as “the missing link” in U.S. efforts to win Fang’s release.

Such leaks contribute to Nixon’s reputation as a master in foreign affairs.

Still, some people who talk to Nixon find his ideas are not always on target or even fresh. His views seldom veer far from the standard wisdom. Among other things, he predicted that Bush’s landslide 1988 election would be a cliffhanger. He also warned a few years ago that the Sandinista regime in Nicaragua would never relinquish power, as it did earlier this year.

Perhaps the most astonishing aspect of Nixon’s rehabilitation is that he still inspires the loyalty of conservatives, even though his opinions are now more clearly middle-of-the-road.

There is no denying that Nixon’s life since Watergate has not always been an easy one, and his desire to continue serving his country under these circumstances is certainly admirable. Unlike some former Presidents who take money from foreign governments or corporations seeking to influence foreign policy, he always pays his way when he travels abroad and does not rely on Secret Service protection.

His first years as a private citizen must have been a living hell for Nixon as he watched friends and former aides go to jail. He apparently did not expect the Watergate prosecutions to continue after his resignation. He was disbarred and became the target of many lawsuits. His pardon from President Ford caused him more embarrassment. In addition, his wife, Pat, suffered a debilitating stroke in July, 1976. Since then, there have been the inevitable Watergate anniversaries to endure.

And even though he believes he will be vindicated by history, it is clear that Nixon still feels a big void in his life because he has been deprived of the one goal that drove him throughout most of his political career: being President.