Monday, Nov. 25, 1974
A Matter of Sharing Apples
It was almost a scene from a Nelson Rockefeller campaign. There were no knishes or hot dogs; the former New York Governor did not yell, "Hiya, fella!" But he was at his breezy best as he moved through the Senate committee room smiling broadly, shaking hands, slapping backs as if he did not have a care in the world, when in fact all that he had worked for in politics was at stake. His nomination for the vice presidency had been jeopardized by disclosures that he had given more than $2 million in loans and gifts to associates, most of them public officials, and that he had secretly authorized a derogatory book about his Democratic opponent, Arthur J. Goldberg, in the 1970 New York gubernatorial race. Now he had been recalled by the Senate Rules Committee to give further testimony; this week he will face harsher grilling from the House Judiciary Committee.
Some Reservations. Under pointed questioning from the Senators, who were determined not to let him off so easily as last time, Rockefeller responded with an adroit mixture of humility and hyperbole, stout defense and tactical retreat. With his customary bonhomie and no trace of arrogance, he offered a fascinating glimpse into the Rockefeller mind and lifestyle, moving G.O.P. Senator Mark O. Hatfield to comment that he had learned a lot about "the Rockefeller person." The revelations were apparently to Rocky's advantage. At the end of his first day of testimony, even his most persistent critic on the committee, West Virginia Senator Robert C. Byrd, said he would probably vote for confirmation "with some reservations."
In his prepared statement, the Vice President-designate tried to reassure people about his wealth. Gone was his earlier, facile claim that the economic power of his family was mere "myth." "My private wealth is, to say the least, quite great enough to be abused; that is, if I were the kind of man to do so and if the American political system permitted wealth to be used uncontrollably." But he maintained that "political authority is not for sale in America. [It] comes only from the free gift of the people when they vote for you." Poverty, too, he went on, "can blind a man or a woman. Some never rise above the hungry resentments of early hardships. Others never rise above a merely regional background to achieve a national viewpoint. I believe that my 40-year public career demonstrates that I have tried and at least partially succeeded in rising to achieve a broad national outlook."
Rockefeller yielded little ground in his defense of his gifts to associates in government. Under pressure from the committee, he finally agreed that if he is confirmed, he will make no substantial gifts or loans to any federal employee --unless there is an exceptional medical need. But he insisted that this sort of personal philanthropy was a matter of family tradition. Appearing to be personally wounded by the criticism, he lamented the fact that "sharing with others has become a political issue. Not one of the gifts or loans I have made was designed to corrupt." He resorted to one of the homely analogies he likes to use: "You're sitting there eating apples, and nobody else has an apple to eat. I'm sure there isn't a person under those circumstances who wouldn't say, 'Well, doesn't everybody want an apple?' "
What perplexed the Senators was the number of apples that Rocky gave away. In a bemused tone of voice, Alabama Democrat James B. Allen observed that all of Rockefeller's appointees seemed to have had two qualities in common: "a state of impecuniousness and a desire not always to remain in that state." Replied Rocky: "That's a common trait of almost all Americans, and that's one reason this country has done so well." Could it be, Allen persisted, that Rockefeller was considered a "soft touch" by his employees? Rockefeller shot back: "I don't think I've been a sucker."
Aside from personal friendship and sympathy, Rockefeller said that he made his gifts to attract and keep good men in public service. Government, he feels, does not pay enough. "The Government is saving money on salaries and losing hundreds of millions with inadequate administrators." Thus he had made loans and gifts totaling $176,389 to Edward J. Logue to persuade him to head the New York State Urban Development Corp. He had given $50,000 to Henry Kissinger to enable him to go to work as President Nixon's foreign policy adviser. Rocky explained that Kissinger had just made a costly divorce settlement when Nixon offered him the White House post. Kissinger was reluctant to take it, partly for financial reasons. But Rocky overcame his objections by giving him the money to set up a trust fund for his two children.
Hasty Decision. The Senators could not understand why Rockefeller did so much more for William J. Ronan than for anybody else. Ronan, who serves as an adviser to the Rockefeller family at $100,000 a year, received $625,000 in gifts and canceled loans from Nelson over a period of 16 years.
Ronan held, moreover, public posts that put him in charge of supervising transportation in the state. But Rocky insisted that Ronan was answerable to him, gifts or not. In fact, he had placed Ronan on the Metropolitan Transportation Authority to undertake a Rockefeller policy of aiding mass transit. Warming to the subject, Rocky declared: "Ronan had the guts, the balls," to fight for mass transit. Then he apologized for his language. Said Senator Harrison A. Williams Jr.: "You've topped J.P. Morgan for color."*
Rockefeller did not try to defend the Goldberg book. "Let's face it," he testified. "I made a mistake. I made a hasty, ill-considered decision in the middle of a hectic campaign. It is one of the most unhappy things that's ever happened in my life." As he recalled events, Lawyer John A. Wells, his campaign manager in his abortive try for the presidency in 1964, had come to him with the idea for the book. It was to be written by one of Wells' clients, right-wing Author Victor Lasky, who had already produced J.F.K.: The Man and the Myth and Robert F. Kennedy: the Myth and the Man. After a meeting that lasted 15 minutes, Rockefeller asked his brother Laurance to find some financial backers. Laurance, in fact, became the sole backer, contributing $65,000. A corporation was set up in Delaware to handle the publication. But the book had minimal impact on the campaign. Rocky thought so little of the book that he did not get around to reading it until two days before his appearance before the Rules Committee. "It has got to be the most overrated, misrepresented, innocuous political dud ever perpetrated in a partisan political campaign," he said.
Altered Account. While not arguing with Rockefeller's description of the book, his inquisitors were plainly concerned about the secrecy surrounding the project. Why, Byrd wanted to know, had the money behind the book been "laundered"? The Rockefeller name, not the money, had been laundered, replied the witness. The family feared that if it was discovered that they were backing the book, no one else would invest in it. Byrd wondered why that mattered since a mere $65,000 was involved--a sum easily raised by Rockefellers.
The Senators were even more troubled by the fact that Rockefeller had sharply altered his account of the affair. When first questioned by reporters, he denied that he had initiated the book and said that Laurance had financed it. But in his testimony last week, he took full responsibility himself; the book was such a trivial item in the campaign, he said, that he had simply forgotten that he had authorized it. "My statement was totally unfair to my brother, who is one of the nicest people in the world."
Pressing the attack, Byrd asked why Rocky had not come up with the true story sooner since he had been questioned twice by the FBI about the book. Rocky answered that he had been so busy gathering other information for investigators and for the press that he had overlooked the book. "I didn't realize it was the big deal it turned out to be." Not very satisfied, Byrd remarked that getting the truth piecemeal was "a throwback to what we have had over the past two years." Flustered for the only time, Rockefeller responded: "I have to bitterly object to that."
Several other witnesses involved in the production of the Goldberg book backed up Rockefeller's testimony. Confirming that he was the sole investor in the book, Laurance Rockefeller admitted that "this is one investment I wish I had not made." The only partially damaging witness against Rocky was Goldberg himself. Bumping into Rockefeller on his way to testify, Goldberg remarked: "You've had a long day." "Thank you for coming," replied Rocky, clapping Goldberg on the shoulder. Calling the book "libelous" (though he plans no lawsuit), Goldberg withdrew his earlier endorsement of Rockefeller for Vice President. The last witness of the week, Author Victor Lasky, denied making a slashing attack on Goldberg. "I hit him with marshmallows."
Rockefeller may have a rougher time with the more obstreperous House Judiciary Committee. Some of its liberal Democrats are "laying for him," noted a committee member. "It's hyper-suspicion," says G.O.P. Representative Thomas F. Railsback. But House Speaker Carl Albert declared that it is "important" for Congress to act on the nomination before adjournment, and if it does, that act is likely to be one of confirmation.
*An exaggeration perhaps. When J.P. Morgan testified at a Senate banking investigation in 1933, a circus pressagent put a midget on his lap.
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