Washington cover-up

In Short

This book serves as a vital critique of the "executive privilege" doctrine, tracing its evolution from early American precedents to its mid-twentieth-century expansion. Through a detailed examination of investigative conflicts between Congress and the White House—particularly during the Truman and Eisenhower administrations—it argues that withholding government information from legislative oversight endangers democratic accountability. It remains an essential record for anyone interested in the friction between administrative autonomy and the constitutional necessity of a transparent, informed, and vigilant citizenry.

The Story

The narrative begins with a core democratic principle: the government exists to serve the people, and the people must have access to information to judge their representatives fairly. The opening chapters establish that early presidents, including Washington, held no absolute prerogative to withhold records. While legal limitations on forcing executive action existed—notably in the landmark Marbury v. Madison case—the book emphasizes that such rulings were about the reach of judicial power, not the moral or political right of an administration to hide its operations from public scrutiny.

As the narrative moves into the mid-twentieth century, the focus shifts to the Truman administration’s struggles. Though Truman’s tenure was marked by efforts to dodge congressional inquiries into influence-peddling and tax scandals, he never asserted a formal, sweeping constitutional right to secrecy. The real pivot occurs with the Eisenhower administration, which codified the doctrine of "executive privilege" in a 1954 letter. This act, intended to shield internal deliberations from congressional committees investigating matters like the Dixon-Yates power contract, set a precedent that hindered legislative oversight for years. The author portrays this as a dangerous encroachment, noting that even well-meaning officials used the privilege to avoid embarrassment rather than to protect genuine state secrets.

The arc of the book follows the subsequent "secrecy curtain" as it spreads across government agencies, including the regulatory boards meant to serve as independent watchdogs. As the author tracks various congressional investigations—from the Department of Defense to foreign aid programs—a pattern emerges: whenever an agency faces charges of negligence or fraud, it reflexively invokes executive privilege to block the General Accounting Office or legislative subcommittees. The author argues that this habit of secrecy creates a "vacuum" in which bureaucracy operates without accountability, effectively insulating officials from the consequences of poor judgment.

The final phase of the story brings the reader into the early days of the Kennedy administration. While the new President promises a more open approach, the transition is fraught with the same tensions. The book concludes with a series of exchanges between Congressman John E. Moss and the White House, reinforcing that the struggle for transparency is perpetual. Ultimately, the narrative asserts that no executive department should be immune to inquiry; rather, the strength of the nation relies on Congress’s ability to "sift" through government actions to ensure that public servants remain answerable to the people they represent.

How It Unfolds

The democratic baseline The author establishes that government officials hold only a temporary grant of power and lack any royal prerogative to operate in the dark. By citing early American history, he demonstrates that even the nation's founders viewed the withholding of documents with significant suspicion.

The Truman era struggles The narrative documents how the Truman administration attempted to avoid scrutiny during various tax and influence scandals. It clarifies that while these officials were evasive, they stopped short of claiming a constitutional privilege to ignore subpoenas.

The Eisenhower doctrine A pivotal moment arrives with President Eisenhower’s May 17, 1954, letter, which formally introduced "executive privilege" as a shield. The book details how this policy quickly morphed from a narrow tool into a broad excuse for hiding administrative incompetence.

The regulatory agency crisis The investigation focuses on the "big six" regulatory agencies, which were designed to remain insulated from political pressure. The author shows how these agencies began using secrecy to mask their internal dealings and cozy relationships with private interests.

The confrontation with the GAO The book highlights the erosion of the General Accounting Office’s investigative power as agencies blocked access to vital financial records. The narrative argues that without these audits, it becomes impossible for taxpayers to know how their money is spent.

The Kennedy transition The final beats examine the early promise of the Kennedy administration alongside continued instances of executive sensitivity to criticism. It underscores that the tension between a "right to know" and executive autonomy remains an ongoing, unresolved struggle.

The People

Clark R. Mollenhoff serves as the investigative protagonist. He acts as both narrator and an active participant, pushing presidents and cabinet members for clarity and forcing them to defend their secrecy policies under the heat of his direct questioning.

President Dwight D. Eisenhower is presented as the primary architect of the modern "executive privilege" doctrine. While the author acknowledges his personal integrity, he critiques Eisenhower for creating a policy that allowed subordinates to hide mismanagement, ultimately warning against the very "military-industrial complex" that necessitated such oversight.

Congressman John E. Moss emerges as a steadfast advocate for the public’s right to know. He consistently challenges the White House to reverse restrictive information policies, acting as a legislative anchor in the ongoing battle against bureaucratic opacity.

Senator Estes Kefauver functions as a key investigator. His attempts to probe the regulatory agencies and demand transparency bring him into direct conflict with administration officials, highlighting the necessity of legislative inquiry in an era of expanding executive power.

Comptroller General Joseph Campbell represents the institutional desire for fiscal accountability. He struggles against the "bureaucratic reluctance" of agencies that refuse to turn over records, serving as the voice of the taxpayers who need a clear picture of government spending.

In Its Own Voice

"It is well to remember that every withholding of government business from the public is an encroachment upon the democratic principle that government officials are accountable to the people."

The author establishes his central thesis early, cautioning citizens to view all government secrecy with inherent suspicion.

"Unless the Congress have and use every means of acquainting itself with the acts and the disposition of the administrative agents of the Government, the country must be helpless to learn how it is being served."

Quoting an earlier source to bolster his argument, the author emphasizes the vital, eyes-and-ears role that the legislature plays in a healthy democracy.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument against the insulation of the administrative state. The author posits that the "executive privilege" doctrine is not a constitutional necessity but a political convenience that allows government agencies to evade the consequences of their own incompetence. The central question is whether a democratic government can function effectively if its citizens and their representatives are kept in "crippling ignorance" of official acts. The book suggests that transparency is the only reliable remedy for corruption, arguing that the health of the American system is inversely proportional to the amount of secrecy employed by those in power.

Why Read It Today

Readers interested in the history of institutional power, government transparency, and the evolution of the "imperial presidency" will find this a fascinating, if dense, study. It provides a sharp, insider perspective on how the machinery of Washington works when the lights are turned off. Because it was written in 1962, the reader should be prepared for a prose style that is methodical and earnest, deeply rooted in the political language of the mid-century. While the author is occasionally repetitive in his drive to make his point, his commitment to the "people’s right to know" is palpable and sobering. The book’s value lies in its documentation of the specific, often mundane, ways in which the government attempts to shield itself from scrutiny. You will likely walk away from it with a heightened awareness of how easily accountability can be sacrificed for the sake of administrative efficiency—a theme that remains as relevant in the modern era as it was when this book was first published. It is a work for those who believe that the price of democracy is constant, diligent, and sometimes exhausting vigilance.