Justice on Trial

DURING THE FINAL two weeks of the Pentagon Papers case, the public's only difficulty was in recalling which side was on trial. The jury never got to rule whether the unauthorized release of embarrassing political documents was a crime. But the disclosures of White House-directed theft, disappearing FBI records, and a network of clandestine intelligence probes directed at reporters and Federal officials further clouded the already murky waters of scandal in which the Nixon administration increasingly finds itself floundering.

When their case first came to court, defendants Daniel Ellsberg '52 and Anthony J. Russo Jr. said they hoped to raise issues surrounding government ineptness and deceit. The Nixon administration eloquently made their point for them. After the two men were indicted for violating an executive order, their constitutional rights were trampled in an evidence-gathering crusade conducted by the CIA in cahoots with petty thieves. Even more startling, presiding judge William Matthew Byrne Jr. was invited in April to the San Clemente White House -- while the case was in progress -- to discuss the possibility of Byrne's directing the FBI. The defense was charitable in labeling this desperate attempt at manipulating the judiciary "attempted bribery."

Only the press and the courts have been consistent instruments of justice in the deluge of scandals surrounding a reckless executive branch. The administration's attacks on the press are familiar enough; by sabotaging the judicial process, Nixon's White House and CIA men have resorted to tactics appropriate only to a police state. It is fortunate that justice for Ellsberg and Russo has been achieved. But until grand juries and Congress dredge up all the details of the executive's involvement in domestic espionage, the American public should continue to suspect Nixon of undermining the very meaning of liberty that our system of justice supposedly protects.