Looking Back at the Frost-Nixon Interviews as US Goes to Poll

The Frost-Nixon interviews were scheduled

Yep, I let the American people down. And I have to carry that burden with me for the rest of my life. My political life is over. I will never yet, and never again, have an opportunity to serve in any official position.

Richard Nixon, Former President, United States of America

In probably one of the most curiously compelling moments in television history, President Richard Nixon admitted to his own wrongdoing. The year was 1977. A total of 28 hours and 45 minutes of footage would soon be taped as part of a four-week long stretch of interviews. It would be the first time Nixon would speak at length after his resignation over the notorious Watergate Scandal.

The month, if we have checked our records correctly, was March.

Little did broadcaster David Frost realise that his new project, after having a show cancelled, will become one of the most significant instances of television and news history.

Nixon has variously been perceived as what I can best term, a rogue President. As the United States of America goes to polls, the possibility, however far-stretched, of another rogue becoming a president becomes ominously imaginable.

Donald Duck is probably coming to town.

Watergate and the Interviews

After spending two years away from public life, following his resignation on the Watergate Scandal row, Nixon was looking to make a public comeback. He was in the process of publishing his memoirs at the same time and intended to redeem his public image, which had suffered heavily after the corruptions of his government were discovered. On 17 June 1972, a major break-in was staged at the Democratic National Committee headquarters at the Watergate office complex in Washington DC.

Nixon’s government attempted to cover up the incident but instead lent itself to legal scrutiny, revealing numerous malpractices which ranged from the bugging of offices of political opponents to ordered harassment and manhandling of activist groups and political figures, using the FBI, CIA, and the Internal Revenue Service.

At the time when the series of interviews were planned, Frost’s New York-based talk show had been cancelled and he was on the lookout for a project that would steer him back on track. Frost had agreed to pay Nixon for the interviews and as a consequence drew a lot of flak from other agencies and organisations for indulging in “chequebook journalism”.

The Repentant and the Unabashed

In the initial set of interviews, we encounter Nixon as the familiar, always well-rehearsed, speaker. Frost himself went through a set of trials and tribulations in order to get the former President to commit to the misdeeds of his government. And it is that process which marks these interviews in becoming not only the handbook for journalistic enquiry but also as a remarkable case study.

And Nixon, while noting “I can only say that [...] while technically I did not commit a crime, an impeachable offence”, did end up owning up to his shortcomings, saying “I made so many bad judgements. The worst ones...”

Trump is, in comparison, nowhere near the repentance arena. In fact, he is a few light years away. And that’s when things start getting scary. American television seems to be least invested in trying to bring any of the big fish in their pond under the radar. Perhaps a little tug at the coat-end is required. And what perfect way to do so by talking about the Frost-Nixon interviews.

TV is the Thing My Dear

I would like to believe that it is indeed a cosmic occurrence that as I sit to write this, television screens are blaring all around. And somewhere, at the back of my head, Dina Washington is singing TV is the Thing This Year.

We live in difficult times. An era of communication when human misery is the price one pays for the failure of communication. A series of recent happenings in India has begun a set of discussions on the role and journalistic ethics of television news. Looking back at the Frost-Nixon interviews, it is, perhaps, in the best interest of news itself, necessary to say that some amount of self-scrutiny won’t hurt.

While concluding a now-famous speech delivered to the Radio and Television News Directors Association in 1958, acclaimed television broadcaster Edward R. Murrow said:

This instrument [television] can teach, it can illuminate; yes, and it can even inspire. But it can do so only to the extent that humans are determined to use it to those ends. Otherwise, it’s nothing but wires and lights in a box. There is a great and perhaps decisive battle to be fought against ignorance, intolerance and indifference. This weapon of television could be useful.

I nod in agreement, and use his words to bid “good night, and good luck”.