The Republican campaign

Watergate

Early on June 17, 1972, five men were apprehended at the Watergate Office Building breaking into the headquarters of the Democratic National Committee, and Democratic leaders thought they saw a political break. The intruders were laden with electronic eavesdropping equipment and were led by the director of security of the CRP, James McCord. The CRP’s campaign director, former attorney general John Mitchell, quickly fired McCord, but the scandal had only begun to erupt. Eleven days later Mitchell fired G. Gordon Liddy, a counsel to the finance committee of the CRP, because Liddy refused to answer FBI questions about his frequent phone conversations with one of the Watergate bugging team. Mitchell himself resigned a few days later.

The Democratic National Committee, led by Chairman Lawrence F. O’Brien, was vocally indignant and sued the CRP for $1 million. Furor over the Watergate case was stoked by later revelations that money used by Bernard Barker, one of the Watergate five, came from Nixon campaign funds raised in the Midwest.

Conventions

The McGovern campaign reached the height of its power and efficiency at the Democratic National Convention, held in the heat of July at Miami Beach in Florida. McGovern delegates beat back an attempt to have the result of the winner-take-all primary in California declared invalid. The Illinois delegation, which was to have been led as usual by Mayor Richard J. Daley, was replaced with a new delegation that allowed higher proportions of women, young people, and African Americans; Daley had sensed the coming rebuff and stayed home. Once the delegations were agreed upon and seated, the nomination of McGovern was assured. Thereafter, however, McGovern’s campaign began to falter.

McGovern wanted Ted Kennedy as his running mate, but Kennedy refused to join the ticket. Muskie also turned down McGovern’s offer, after vacillating for two days. Others too declined, including Sen. Abraham Ribicoff of Connecticut. Askew had taken himself out of consideration earlier. Finally, McGovern settled on the dynamic junior senator from Missouri, Thomas F. Eagleton. In the flurry to get the ticket set, McGovern aides had made only a cursory check of Eagleton’s background, and the senator himself assured them in a hurried telephone conversation that he had “no skeletons in his closet.” Within two weeks, however, news broke that Eagleton had been hospitalized three times in the past 12 years for nervous exhaustion, had received psychiatric care, and had twice been given electroshock treatments.

McGovern’s reaction did as much as anything could have to shatter in the public mind what he regarded as the core of his candidacy: his openness, candour, and credibility. At first he said he would have placed Eagleton on the ticket even if he had known about his medical history. In a quote that was to haunt him, he said he was behind Eagleton “1,000 percent.” Simultaneously he began to drop hints that Eagleton would be dropped from the ticket. The press, angry at what they viewed as McGovern’s attempts to use them, became increasingly critical. They began to headline other inconsistencies they saw between McGovern’s utterances and his behaviour. Despite Eagleton’s efforts to stay on the ticket, McGovern eventually persuaded him to withdraw. Sargent Shriver, Senator Kennedy’s brother-in-law, became the new vice presidential nominee.

President Nixon and Vice President Agnew were nominated by acclamation at the Republican National Convention in August, and the small but noisy band of antiwar demonstrators outside the convention hall in Miami Beach had no effect on the jubilation inside. The convention was a celebration, an advance victory party for what all within the hall felt was to come. Indeed, shortly before the 1972 presidential election, Nixon told a reporter that “the election was over the day he [Sen. George McGovern] was nominated.”