Bernstein’s late-night call to John Mitchell
All the President's MenCarl Bernstein’s late-night call to John Mitchell was the moment a report about secret campaign funds met an angry, personal attempt to stop its publication. Speaking with Mitchell at the Essex House in New York, Bernstein told him that the next day’s paper would report that Mitchell had controlled secret funds at the Committee for the Re-election of the President while serving as Attorney General. Mitchell’s reaction supplied the story with a new, consequential element: he attacked the report, threatened publisher Katharine Graham, and challenged the newspaper’s motives. At The Washington Post, Ben Bradlee chose to publish the substance of the exchange, with one explicit phrase removed.
The Call and the Story
Bernstein placed the call after writing an insert about a new statement and deciding to seek Mitchell’s response directly. He asked for Room 710 at the Essex House; Mitchell answered, and Bernstein recognized his voice. Bernstein took notes as they spoke, recording both his questions and Mitchell’s replies. The reporter then began typing the conversation almost immediately, so agitated that he found it difficult to hit the right keys.
Bernstein identified the central allegation plainly: the paper was preparing a story saying that Mitchell had controlled secret funds at the committee during his tenure as Attorney General. Mitchell first reacted with an emphatic exclamation and asked what the story said. Bernstein began reading it to him, reaching only the third paragraph before Mitchell repeatedly interrupted. The exchange was not a quiet denial or a considered explanation. It was a live reaction to the imminent publication of a specific allegation.
Mitchell then attacked the decision to print. He said the claims had already been denied and warned that Katharine Graham would face trouble if the story ran. His reference to Graham shifted the confrontation from the truth of the report to the possible consequences for the paper’s owner. Bernstein tried to return to the story’s particulars, but Mitchell asked what time it was, then demanded to know whether the committee had authorized publication. He accused the Post’s reporters of having a “great ballgame going” and threatened that a story would be written about them after the newspaper finished paying named people. When Bernstein again tried to ask about the report, Mitchell directed him to call his law office in the morning.
An Attempt to Change the Subject
Mitchell’s response joined denial to counterattack. He did not answer Bernstein’s questions about the underlying allegation in the call; instead, he invoked the committee’s denials, raised the prospect of harm to Graham, questioned how the story had come to be published, and threatened scrutiny of the reporters. The sequence made the call more than an opportunity to solicit a comment. It exposed the pressure surrounding publication and gave Bernstein a record of how a central figure responded when confronted with the story before it appeared.
The threat involving Graham also put the newspaper’s internal decision-making in view. Mitchell’s words could have been treated as a reason to soften or suppress the report. Instead, Bernstein brought the proposed insert to Bradlee for another review. Bradlee asked him to read it for a third time while considering whether to call Graham, then decided that the additional call was unnecessary. His choice kept the focus on whether the exchange had been accurately reported, rather than allowing the threat itself to dictate the paper’s response.
Bradlee’s Editorial Decision
Bradlee instructed Bernstein to leave the material in except for the phrase “her tit,” and to tell the desk that he approved the insert. Bernstein made a mild appeal to print Mitchell’s quotation intact, but Bradlee refused: readers, he said, would understand the message without the obscenity. The decision preserved the threat and the surrounding exchange while drawing a limited boundary around how it would appear in print.
The committee’s representative, Powell Moore, later tried to reach the editor and asked Bradlee whether publication was wise, given that the call had awakened Mitchell late at night and that he might not have been thinking clearly. Bradlee recalled answering that the decisive questions were whether Mitchell had said the words and whether the Post reporter had identified himself as a reporter. Since Bernstein had identified himself and the notes supported the account, Bradlee considered the essential requirements satisfied. His reasoning treated the call as reportable speech, not as an off-the-record outburst merely because it was late or angry.
A Pressure Test for the Reporting
The episode sits within a wider reporting effort in which people connected to the campaign often hesitated to speak. Employees Bernstein approached at home described pressure and fear; one was trembling and begged him to leave, while another broke into tears. Hugh Sloan later said that although nobody had explicitly ordered him not to talk, the message had been to “Hold ranks,” or “Keep the ship together.” These accounts illuminate the atmosphere surrounding the funds story without making Mitchell’s call interchangeable with the employees’ silence: Bernstein was able to ask Mitchell directly, and Mitchell answered in a way the paper could document.
The call’s significance also rests on the distinction between allegation and response. Bernstein gave Mitchell the opportunity to hear the report and comment before publication; Mitchell’s recorded answer became part of the story rather than a substitute for investigating its claims. In the following months, The Washington Post’s Watergate reporting faced public attacks from the White House, while other reporting produced documentary evidence of contacts connecting Donald Segretti with White House and campaign figures. After Richard Nixon’s April 30 address, Ronald Ziegler apologized publicly to the Post and its reporters for his earlier criticism of their investigative reporting. Those later developments do not change what happened in Room 710, but they sharpen the episode’s place in the larger contest over whether the newspaper’s reporting would be answered with evidence or pressure.