Julie for the Defense

We have talked about it. But the whole family says: What would be the good of it? The way my father looked at it for a while was that, "I want to do what is good for the country--if resigning would be good for the country, well . . ." But all of us feel that wouldn't help the presidency. We feel that he has a lot to give the country still, and he should continue.

This astonishing insight into Richard Nixon's private musings on whether he should resign the presidency over Watergate came not long ago from someone who should know: his younger daughter. Julie Nixon Eisenhower, 24, is the only Nixon who has refused to shun public exposure in the wake of the scandal and has chosen instead to carry her father's case forcefully to the public.

Julie has actively sought speaking engagements and television appearances over the past few weeks, in most cases knowing beforehand that she would be subjected to hostile questioning about Watergate. "She feels that it is her personal responsibility as a member of the family to defend her father," says a close friend. The defense she has mounted, mostly before young audiences and on television, has been impressively detailed, lucid and levelheaded.

She talks over with her father how to handle the thorniest questions, and she has faced down more than one interviewer with the icy calm and official poise only a politician's--perhaps only a President's--daughter can so effectively command.

She needs both attributes. At her own request, Julie recently attended the annual dinner of the Radio and Television Correspondents Association in Washington. She knew in advance that the evening would be peppered with Watergate jokes, but was unprepared for the deluge of stinging humor (see SHOW BUSINESS). Sitting with her was former Senator Eugene McCarthy, who gallantly kept her engrossed during the jabs at the President. Said one observer: "Without him, she wouldn't have made it." As it was, she gamely held on to the end, until Nicaraguan Ambassador Guillermo Sevilla-Sacasa said sympathetically: "Your father still has one friend." Tears began to fill her eyes as she quietly left.

That is the only time she has given way. She not only responds briskly to newsmen's queries and questions from her audiences but also launches cool counterattacks at times. On one occasion she observed: "How can you know everything that's going on in an Administration, go to China, go to the Soviet Union, control inflation, control riots --there have been no major riots while my father has been in office--and do all the other things?" Another time she observed: "I think the press is getting its due credit for bringing this whole murky thing out in the open. But all these unnamed sources they use--those are old McCarthyism tactics that hurt innocent people."

She likes to tell her audiences: "I was a political baby; I learned to walk in the House, and I learned to talk in the Senate." She describes Watergate as "a cancer. You wish you could go into the hospital tomorrow and have it all removed once and for all." Her ultimate message: "I have complete faith and confidence that events in the long run will put my father's achievements in perspective and that he'll be remembered for the generation of peace he was able to bring."

White House observers, some of whom have watched Julie grow up, sense more in this new-found activity than a restless urge for public speech-making--or even a welcome chance to defend her embattled father. Says one:

"Julie is running for First Lady." And why not? Husband David has encouraged her recent activity, and she says of a possible political office for him: "I think it would be fine. David and I will probably be involved with politics for the rest of our lives. We might be working for other candidates--or David might run." Then she adds, "Or perhaps I will."

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