Re-elect the President, Liddy enthusiasticallyndirected the establishment of annextralegal intelligence unit charged withnundermining the Democrats’ efforts tonunseat Richard Nixon in 1972. Why didnLiddy, an ex-FBI agent and former hardlinenassistant district attorney, eagerlynagree to violate the law? Money? Fame?nPolitical preferment? The allurementsnthat make most men burn with a whitehotnlust left Liddy cold. Liddy acted for anstartlingly simple reason: patriotism.n”To permit the thought, spirit, life-style,nand ideas of the 60’s movement tonachieve power and become the officialnway of life of the United States was anthought as offensive to me as was thenthought of surrender to a career Japanesensoldier in 1945. It was unthinkable,nan unspeakable betrayal.” An admirablenmotive no doubt, but does it justifynegregious lawlessness? Liddy defendsnhis actions by contending that domesticnwarfare existed in the United Statesnin the late 1960’s, an internecine strifenthat pitted the defenders of the goodnand the right against “the radical leftnand whole drug-besotted 1960’s ‘movenment.’ ” In such a crisis the law becomesn”inoperative,” and the man ofnhonor and courage must move swiftly toncrush the barbarians.nThe temptation arises to peg Liddynin one of two ways: either as a crazednfanatic, or as a cynical political operativenin search of a rationale adequatento justify the disruption of the electoralnprocess. Neither will suffice, though,nfor the whole course of Liddy’s adultnlife supports his view of Watergate.nBoth as an FBI agent and as a prosecutingnattorney, Liddy saw himself as thendefender of America from external enemiesnand internal subversives. The upheavalsnof the 1960’s—urban riots, annear-treasonous peace movement andnthe rise of the drug culture—naturallynstruck Liddy as parts of a gigantic conspiracynto destroy what he loved and hadnconsistently defended. Did Liddy overreact?nDid he mistake a series of mildndomestic disorders as a dire threat tonAmerica? The black thugs who ravagednAmerica’s cities, the peace demonstratorsnwho waved Vietcong flags, and thenacid heads who preached the gospel ofn”tune out and turn on” did indeed wishnto bring America to her knees. Many ofnthese despicable creatures, along withnabortion advocates, homosexual activistsnand militant feminists, rallied tonthe banners of George McGovern, ansilly, naive man who lacked the intelligencenand will to discern the viciousnintent of many of his followers.nIn times of grave peril to the Republicngood men must sometimes risk all tonsave what they believe in and let historynbe the judge. So reasoned Gordon Liddynin the spring of 1972. Granted the correctnessnof Liddy’s assessment of thennature of the threat posed by the “60’snmovement,” did the situation necessitatenan appeal to a higher law than thatnof the legal and electoral system thatnsheltered those who would destroy GordonnLiddy’s America? In retrospect, thenanswer must be a resounding “No!”nThe good sense of the American peoplenasserted itself and sent George McGovernnscurrying back to the wastelands ofnSouth Dakota to lick his wounds. ButnGordon Liddy did not foresee this denouementnwhen he set out to combatnthe forces of destruction. Had eventsngone differently, Liddy might now benenshrined in the halls of Americannpatriotism. As it stands, his ill-fatednmission confirms one of the bedrocknprinciples of American conservatism:none must obey the law and accept thennnworkings of the legitimately constitutednpolitical system. In resorting to lawlessness,nLiddy subverted the very systemnhe sought to protect.nGordon Liddy’s problem lies muchndeeper than an overeager patriotism,nthough. As a sickly, scrawny and fearriddennchild filled with “self-loathing,”nLiddy determined to transform himselfnphysically and to triumph over his fears.nA common enough impulse—witnessnTheodore Roosevelt; but the source ofnLiddy’s inspiration and the lengths tonwhich he drove himself to achieve selfmasterynwill raise a few eyebrows.nYoung Gordon sat spellbound for hoursnbeside the family short-wave radio listeningnto the frenzied speeches of AdolfnHitler. Inspired by Hitler’s revitalizationnof a once weak and humiliatednGerman nation, Liddy seized upon thenthought that he, too, could be strongnand masterful: “The world opened upnto me. I could become anything I wantednto be.”nA man should not be condemned fornhaving suffered in his childhood fromna febrile imagination that danced to thenelectrifying oratory of a master demagogue.nBut the effects of this did notnevanesce as Liddy grew to manhood; henretained a lifelong fascination with nazinGermany and a preoccupation withnforce, violence, power and the triumphnof the will. Machines, with their awesomenmight and invulnerability, grippednhis fantasies, and he began an enduringnlove affair with guns (in Will he treatsnus to a group portrait of fourteen pistolsnhe has packed at one time or another).nAdmitting that “I am inclined to thinknin German terms,” Liddy repeatedly refersnto nazi Germany. Both his Jesuitnteachers at Fordham and the corps ofnFBI agents remind him of HeinrichnHimmler’s Schutzstaffel; he recallsnfondly the ‘uber alles spirit” of “Director”n(a title Liddy compares to “dernFilhrer”) J. Edgar Hoover’s agency; andnhe remembers explaining to JohnnMitchell that the special intelligencenunit would function as an “Einsatzgruppe.n”n17n]ovembcr/Deccmbcr 1980n