When one reads thousands of pages of transcripts of Henry Kissinger’s phone conversations from his time in the Nixon and Ford administrations, as I did, one gets a pretty good sense of his personality, temperament, and character. The man had an appealing sense of humor and a quick wit, which he sometimes used to break tension. One can even see his humor on display during pressure-packed crises (of which there were many). He could be charming and self-deprecating, and he was an inveterate flatterer. He heaped praise on President Nixon, who was aware that it was often phony and doubted Kissinger’s loyalty. He was invariably deferential to Nixon, always addressing him formally as “Mr. President.” His standing with Nixon was always a paramount concern.
Kissinger often affected intimacy with people (“I’m talking to you as a friend”), particularly with journalists, as if he were taking them into his confidence, which was one way he seduced them. Journalists tended to be deferential to him, and many sought his “guidance.” He had considerable powers of seduction through his charm, flattery, humor, feigned forthrightness, and sharing of intimacies. He was prone to flirting with female journalists, including Barbara Walters, who was upset by false news stories linking them, and he enjoyed his playboy reputation. Of course, his famously powerful and quick mind is evident in his phone transcripts.
Also evident is his impressive capacity to handle an enormous workload and withstand an endless series of headaches while working long hours. Kissinger seemed to have boundless stamina and to require little sleep. He was an extraordinarily hard worker. His days were long. He had superior diplomatic skills, aided by, among other things, his people skills, fortitude, brilliance, grasp of every conceivable issue, and bargaining acumen—not to mention his duplicity and double-dealing. And he was an adept bureaucratic infighter in Washington.
Kissinger could be impatient, sarcastic, and derisive with his aides, highly demanding and even abusive. He threatened firings when particularly upset. He was often arrogant, caustic about the “morons” and “lightweights” in the Nixon administration that he had to put up with, and contemptuous of them. He repeatedly threatened to resign, mainly over his difficulties with Secretary of State William Rogers, who he thought was an idiot and disliked intensely, and over his treatment by Nixon.
He was deceitful and a habitual liar; he appeared to have little hesitation about lying. Kissinger lied frequently to colleagues and journalists. A master, serial leaker, he told the journalist Mary McGrory “he does not leak anything,” and he might denounce to a colleague a news story that bore his fingerprints as “a disgrace.” And he lied repeatedly about his involvement in the Nixon administration’s secret wiretaps of officials and journalists, false-reporting system for the secret Cambodia bombing, and internal discussions about Watergate, and about his knowledge of the Plumbers extralegal investigations unit and his former aide David Young’s participation in it.
Kissinger was also a backstabber and two-faced. Not many colleagues escaped his barbed tongue behind their backs. And he was secretive and conspiratorial. It was not unusual for him to complain about people conspiring and waging campaigns against him. Like Nixon, he could appear paranoid about enemies. (He once remarked to his assistant Alexander Haig, half joking, that acute paranoia in Washington would be diagnosed as excessive complacency.)
He was strikingly callous to the deaths and suffering inflicted by his and Nixon’s policies in Vietnam. He can be found in his phone conversations exulting over all the dead Vietnamese bodies piled up following U.S. bombing strikes. He once threatened not to airlift imperiled and retreating South Vietnamese soldiers out of Laos during the disastrous 1971 invasion of Laos.
He placed great value on being “tough” and “strong,” and being willing to act “brutally” (he expressed disdain for “pansy” language). He could be ruthless and seemingly unimpeded by morality, secondary as it was to both America’s interests as he saw them and to his own interests.
Kissinger never intended for the transcripts of his phone conversations to be released publicly. He had claimed that they were his personal papers and donated them to the Library of Congress under an agreement that gave him control over them. But after the National Security Archive, an organization that fights to limit government secrecy and increase the public’s access to government records, contested Kissinger’s control of the transcripts with the National Archives and State Department and exerted legal pressure on them to recover them, the two agencies asked Kissinger to turn over the transcripts to them. Based on legal advice, Kissinger ultimately complied. It was a crowning achievement of the National Security Archive.
Kissinger was surely nervous about releasing his phone transcripts. He’d been worried about the release of Nixon’s own tapes, aware that they could be damaging to him; he had advised destroying them. But while he said that the tapes of his phone conversations had been destroyed after being transcribed, the transcripts were now out in the world, a great gift to history.
Feature image by Markus Winkler from Pixabay.