The Wild Crimes, Audacious Cover-up and Spectacular Downfall of a Brazen Crook in the White House
Book by Rachel Maddow and Michael Yarvitz
Reviewed by Joseph Levendusky
Like many folks of my generation, I hated Spiro Agnew. So did most people I knew. Agnew was Richard Nixon’s attack dog, and Nixon was presiding over the senseless deaths of thousands of young Americans in Viet Nam. But much time has passed, and current events have dimmed vexatious memories of the past. Enter Rachel Maddow and co-author Michael Yarvitz, who provide a rather entertaining refresher course.
Richard Nixon’s Vice President positioned himself as the enemy of the youth movement, the anti-war movement and just about anything else that Nixon’s “Silent Majority” failed to understand. The son of Greek immigrants, he was a self-appointed paragon of traditional American working-class values and the enemy of “effete” intellectual elitists.
Agnew spared no effort in vilifying and slandering his enemies. He generally avoided debate on the fine points of policy and quickly resorted to maligning those who disagreed with him. For effect, he peppered his remarks with five-dollar words, but in an awkward and stilted manner that typically induced groans and eye rolling.
Spiro T. Agnew was a curious choice for Vice President. In terms of policy knowledge—foreign or domestic—he was a lightweight. But he served Nixon as an effective political pit bull, allowing the President to keep his powder dry. In particular, Agnew took pleasure in maligning the press. None of his faults mattered much to the “Love it or Leave it” crowd. Right wing Republicans adored “Spiro the Hero”.
There was one problem. Agnew was spectacularly corrupt. He began demanding kickbacks for government contracts as a county executive in Maryland and expanded that practice when he reached the Governor’s office. When, as Richard Nixon’s running mate, he was elected to the Vice Presidency, Agnew saw no need to surrender such a lucrative sideline. Instead, he again upgraded his operation, steering federal contracts in the DC metro area to cronies who were accustomed to paying baksheesh.
If any of this sounds familiar, you have stumbled on Maddow and Yarvitz’s central thesis: Spiro T. Agnew was the beta version of Donald J. Trump. On this point I am inclined, mostly, to agree. Much of what happened in the Nixon years set the stage for Ronald Reagan, who many would consider the innovator of the present-day GOP’s penchant for slander and its disdain for factual information. Trump merely took the political tactics of his predecessors to new heights.
There is quite a story here and Maddow and Yarvitz tell it well. Where they might have gotten bogged down in historical and political detail, they streamline and keep the story moving, so some knowledge of the period might be helpful. Bag Man takes us back to 1973 and follows three young federal prosecutors in the Baltimore US Attorney’s Office, Barney Skolnick, Tim Baker and Ron Liebman, who start off investigating financial irregularities in Baltimore County.
They soon discover that Spiro Agnew, as county executive of Baltimore County, accepted bribes in exchange for County contracts. This was not astounding news and the statute of limitations had already run out. But as their investigations proceeded, the prosecutors were astonished to find that Agnew had never abandoned his corruption. He was at that moment collecting illicit funds in the White House.
The Watergate scandal was in full tumult and it was not lost on the US attorneys from Baltimore, and their boss, George Beale, that the Agnew allegations would be earth shattering. Perhaps the best chapter in the book tells the tale of the four federal attorneys from Baltimore driving to Washington on a sweltering summer day in a car with faltering air-conditioning. They intended to demand time on Attorney General Eliot Richardson’s schedule to inform him confidentially of their investigation.
As expected, Nixon and Agnew denied any wrong-doing and tried to suppress the investigation. Central to these efforts was Republican Committee chair, future CIA chief, Vice President and President, George H. W. Bush, who would in the future falsely deny any knowledge of the Iran Contra affair. They were aided and abetted by a Greek chorus of Republican supporters who ceaselessly maintained that the truth was not true.
The heroes of this tale would be the three stalwart prosecutors and their chief who, despite lack of status, pushed forward with a staggeringly controversial investigation. And there was the newly appointed Attorney General, Eliot Richardson, who grasped the magnitude of the situation and acted admirably. Richardson’s tenure would be short lived, as he would soon resign rather than obey Nixon’s order to fire Watergate Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox. I’ll refrain from further spoilers.
Bag Man is written as a tautly constructed thriller—a quick, suspenseful and absorbing read. Diligent students of history may desire more detail and more context, but Maddow and Yarvitz keep the storyline tight. For the average reader, this is a rewarding book and an essential case study of how political power often serves as an aphrodisiac for malfeasance and how the system depends on persons of character in order to cleanse itself.
For those who were not yet alive in that era, Bag Man may provide much insight into events that molded parents and grandparents and shaped the political landscape we encounter today.
