JFK VS. HOOVER: THE DIRECTOR WHO BLACKMAILED PRESIDENTS

JFK VS. HOOVER: THE DIRECTOR WHO BLACKMAILED PRESIDENTS

At 10:30 a.m. on March 22, 1962, J. Edgar Hoover walked into the Oval Office carrying a thin manila folder. Inside was information about President John F. Kennedy's relationship with a woman named Judith Campbell Exner.

Exner was also sleeping with Chicago mob boss Sam Giancana, the same mobster the FBI was supposed to be investigating. Hoover sat across from Kennedy and opened the folder.

He didn't threaten. He didn't demand. He simply informed the president that he knew. And that was enough.

Kennedy ended the affair that day. He stopped returning Exner's calls. The relationship, which had lasted more than a year, vanished in an instant.

Because when J. Edgar Hoover showed you what he knew, you understood the message. I control you.

For 48 years, from 1924 to 1972, Hoover ran the FBI as his personal fiefdom. He collected secrets on presidents, congressmen, senators, civil rights leaders, and celebrities. He used those secrets to ensure no one could fire him.

When John F. Kennedy became president in 1961, the collision between the young, reform-minded leader and the aging, blackmailing bureau chief became inevitable.

John Edgar Hoover was born on January 1, 1895, into a middle-class family in Washington, D.C. He would never leave.

Hoover joined the Justice Department in 1917 at age 22. By 1924, at age 29, he was appointed director of the Bureau of Investigation, the agency that would become the FBI.

He would hold that position for 48 years, longer than any other federal agency head in American history.

Hoover transformed the Bureau. He professionalized federal law enforcement. He created a national fingerprint database. He built the FBI laboratory. He established training programs.

Under Hoover, the FBI became America's premier law enforcement agency. But Hoover also built something else: a surveillance empire.

During his tenure, Hoover collected confidential personal information on many Americans, including presidents, members of Congress, and other elected officials. Critics charged that Hoover used this information to embarrass, threaten, and blackmail potential adversaries and politicians he did not support.

Hoover's official and confidential files filled four rooms at FBI headquarters. The files contained information on sexual affairs, financial improprieties, communist sympathies real or imagined, drinking problems, gambling debts, and any other embarrassing detail Hoover's agents could discover.

Some nicknamed him the librarian because of the many dossiers he kept. The files were power, and Hoover understood this better than anyone.

He didn't need to explicitly threaten officials. He simply needed to let them know he possessed information. The implicit threat was enough.

If an investigation unearthed political dirt or information damaging to an individual or his family, Hoover would, through an intermediary, confidentially brief the official while simultaneously assuring him his secret was safe with the Bureau.

The translation was clear: I know your secret. I'm keeping it safe for now. But if you cross me, this method was devastatingly effective.

Nearly all insiders in Washington considered him more powerful than the president, and many politicians lived in fear of him.

Hoover had another advantage: permanence. Presidents came and went every four or eight years. Senators lost elections. But Hoover stayed.

He outlasted Roosevelt, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon. He knew their secrets, and they knew he knew.

Hoover also cultivated an image of incorruptibility. He presented himself as America's moral guardian. He fought communists. He tracked down gangsters. He protected the nation from subversives.

But behind closed doors, Hoover kept a large collection of pornographic films, photographs, and written materials, with particular emphasis on nude photos of celebrities. He reportedly used these for his own titillation and held them for blackmail purposes.

Hoover's personal life contradicted his public moralizing. For decades, Hoover lived with and traveled extensively with Clyde Tolson, the FBI's associate director. They ate lunch together every day. They vacationed together. Tolson inherited Hoover's estate when he died.

The nature of their relationship has been debated for decades. But what's undeniable is the hypocrisy. Hoover collected files on others' sexual indiscretions while his own relationship with Tolson violated the same moral standards he publicly espoused.

By 1961, Hoover was 66 years old. Federal law mandated retirement at age 70. He had four years left. And he knew the new president wanted him gone.

On January 20, 1961, John F. Kennedy was inaugurated as the 35th president of the United States. He was 43 years old, the youngest elected president in American history, a war hero, a senator, a symbol of a new generation.

Kennedy represented everything Hoover despised: youth, glamour, liberalism, tolerance for social change.

Kennedy's relationship with Hoover began on a foundation of mutual knowledge. They both knew about Kennedy's extramarital affairs.

JFK first came to Hoover's attention in 1942 while he was having a well-publicized illicit affair with a married woman named Inga Arvad. She was a columnist for the Washington Post.

The gossip caught Hoover's eye because Arvad was a former Nazi sympathizer and a suspected spy. The FBI had her house bugged for months.

Hoover had been collecting information on JFK's sexual indiscretions for nearly 20 years by the time Kennedy became president.

Kennedy, for his part, seemed determined to antagonize Hoover from day one. Kennedy's first major appointment was his brother Robert as attorney general, technically Hoover's boss.

This created an immediate problem. Hoover had always bypassed the attorney general and reported directly to presidents. He liked being close to power. He liked being important.

JFK was the first to prevent this practice. Robert Kennedy, 35 years old, barred Hoover from direct access to the president. All FBI communications would go through the attorney general's office. Hoover would report to Bobby, not Jack.

This humiliated Hoover. He was 66. Bobby Kennedy was 35, young enough to be his son. And now this kid was his boss.

Hoover retaliated with passive-aggressive warfare. John would often wait until he knew Hoover might be napping in the afternoon and burst into Hoover's office unannounced and without consulting his secretary.

John would sometimes discuss things with Hoover over lunch and would purposely upset Hoover's highbrow sensibilities by taking him to lunch at drugstores.

Kennedy was trolling Hoover, showing him disrespect, treating him like any other bureaucrat instead of the untouchable figure he'd become.

In response to these slights, Hoover was clandestinely amassing files on JFK's sexual indiscretions and his supposed links to organized crime across the country.

Hoover stopped volunteering political intelligence reports to the White House and began dangling information about JFK's many extramarital affairs to get what he wanted.

The relationship became increasingly childish and passive-aggressive. But beneath the petty games was a deadly serious power struggle.

Could an elected president control an unelected bureau chief who had more information on the president than the president had on him?

In February 1960, Frank Sinatra introduced Senator John F. Kennedy to a 25-year-old woman named Judith Campbell. She was beautiful, charming, and well-connected in Hollywood circles.

Kennedy and Campbell began an affair. It continued through the 1960 campaign and into Kennedy's presidency. They spoke on the phone frequently. She visited the White House multiple times.

But Campbell had another relationship. She was also seeing Sam Momo Giancana, boss of the Chicago Outfit, one of the most powerful mafia organizations in America.

Hoover knew. His agents had been surveilling Giancana. They recorded Campbell's phone calls. They tracked her movements. And they documented her connections to both the president and the mob boss.

This was the perfect leverage. The president of the United States was having an affair with a woman who was simultaneously sleeping with a mafia boss.

The FBI was supposed to be investigating organized crime. Instead, the president was sharing a mistress with one of their top targets.

Hoover had been collecting classified information on JFK and his mistresses for years. But the Campbell affair was particularly dangerous.

On March 22, 1962, Hoover requested a meeting with President Kennedy. He brought a file. Inside were details of Kennedy's relationship with Campbell, surveillance reports, phone logs, dates, and times.

Hoover didn't need to threaten. The information spoke for itself. Hoover's knowledge of JFK's private conduct and RFK's political conspiracies were potentially lethal political weapons.

He let the president and the attorney general know that he knew they had committed moral sins. Kennedy ended the relationship with Campbell immediately.

The phone calls stopped. The White House visits ceased. The affair was over, but the damage was done.

Hoover had demonstrated his power. He possessed information that could destroy Kennedy's presidency. And Kennedy knew that if he ever tried to fire Hoover, those files would become public.

This wasn't the only time Hoover used one of JFK's affairs to blackmail the Kennedys into approving one of his crazier ideas.

The Washington Post said Hoover claimed JFK paid a woman $500,000 so she wouldn't blab that they had an affair, and he broke up with her.

J. Edgar Hoover's private files indicate that Hoover told Robert F. Kennedy in 1963 he had information that Kennedy paid $500,000, apparently to quash a lawsuit by a woman who claimed she was jilted by John F. Kennedy 10 years before he became president in 1961.

Hoover brought this information to Robert Kennedy. Not to investigate, but to remind the Kennedys: I know everything and I can use it whenever I want.

If JFK's relationship with Hoover was passive-aggressive, Robert Kennedy's was open warfare.

Bobby Kennedy was attorney general. He was also Kennedy's closest advisor, his political enforcer, his most trusted ally, and he hated J. Edgar Hoover with a passion. The hatred was mutual.

Even as the FBI handled the investigation of JFK's assassination, Hoover's attitude toward the Kennedys was still cold at best. One account describes Hoover's lack of personal remorse when Jack Kennedy was killed.

"God damn the Kennedys!" Clyde Tolson was heard to say to Hoover. "First there was Jack, now there's Bobby, and then Teddy."

Bobby wanted to modernize the Justice Department. He wanted the FBI to focus on organized crime and civil rights violations. He wanted Hoover to report properly through channels instead of operating as an independent power center.

Hoover resisted every change. He was particularly resistant to investigating organized crime. For decades, Hoover had publicly denied the Mafia even existed.

His agents focused on bank robbers, car thieves, and communist subversives, crimes with high publicity value and low political risk.

Bobby forced Hoover's hand. He coordinated all 26 federal law enforcement agencies to target the Mafia. He opened files on the top 100 racketeers. He went after Jimmy Hoffa, Sam Giancana, Carlos Marcello, and Santo Trafficante. Hoover hated him for it.

But Bobby made a fatal mistake. In his zeal to fight organized crime, he authorized wiretaps on targets recommended by Hoover. One of those targets was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Hoover had been obsessed with King for years. He believed King was influenced by communists. He believed King's civil rights movement threatened social order. And he collected information on King's extramarital affairs with the same enthusiasm he'd collected information on Kennedy.

In 1963, Bobby Kennedy signed orders authorizing FBI wiretaps on King's phones. Bobby believed the wiretaps were necessary to disprove Hoover's claims about communist infiltration of the civil rights movement.

Once the taps showed no communist influence, Bobby thought, Hoover would back off. Instead, Hoover used the wiretaps to collect damaging personal information about King.

Under Hoover's leadership, the FBI sent an anonymous blackmail letter to King shortly before he accepted the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964, indicating "There is only one thing left for you to do," which King interpreted as an exhortation for him to commit suicide.

Bobby had given Hoover exactly what he wanted: authorization to surveil King. And Hoover weaponized it.

It was information like this that eventually wore down RFK, who signed off on wiretapping activities on the civil rights leader. Years later, Bobby would deeply regret authorizing those wiretaps. But by then, the damage was done. And Hoover had won another round.

The tension between Bobby and Hoover grew throughout 1962 and 1963. Bobby wanted Hoover's office moved out of the Justice Department building, a symbolic rejection of Hoover's power. Hoover refused.

Bobby explored ways to force Hoover into retirement. Hoover turned 70 in January 1965. Federal law mandated retirement. Bobby believed he could finally be rid of Hoover. But Hoover had other plans.

How did Hoover survive for 48 years despite making enemies of nearly every powerful politician in Washington? The answer was his files.

Hoover's official and confidential files were legendary. Four rooms at FBI headquarters, thousands of dossiers on politicians, celebrities, activists, and journalists.

The files contained evidence of extramarital affairs, financial improprieties, connections to organized crime, communist sympathies real or fabricated, alcohol and drug problems, homosexual relationships in an era when this could destroy careers, and any other embarrassing information Hoover's agents could find.

Some biographers have suggested that Hoover's voluminous secret files on elected officials, including Presidents Truman, Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon, protected him from being fired.

One of Hoover's biographers, Kenneth Ackerman, wrote that the allegation that Hoover's secret files kept presidents from firing him is a myth. But the evidence suggests otherwise.

President Richard Nixon was recorded in 1971 as stating that one of the reasons he would not fire Hoover was that he was afraid of Hoover's reprisals against him.

Similarly, Presidents Harry S. Truman and John F. Kennedy considered dismissing Hoover as FBI director, but ultimately concluded that the political cost of doing so would be too great.

The political cost was code for "Hoover will release damaging information if we fire him." And Hoover made sure everyone knew he had that information. He didn't need to explicitly threaten. The knowledge that he possessed files was enough.

Burton Hersh, in his book Bobby and J. Edgar, documented how Hoover's files on Joseph P. Kennedy Sr., the Kennedy patriarch, also complicated the situation.

Joe Kennedy's long history of professional affiliations with gangsters like Johnny Roselli and amorous flirtations with the likes of Gloria Swanson swelled one of Hoover's secret files.

When Joe Kennedy suffered a debilitating stroke in December 1961, his sons lost their most powerful ally against Hoover. Joe and Hoover had maintained a cordial relationship. The sons had no such protection.

So Hoover remained untouchable. Kennedy wanted him gone. Bobby wanted him gone. But firing Hoover would trigger the release of information that could destroy the Kennedy presidency.

It was the perfect blackmail scheme. I don't have to threaten you. You know what I have. That's enough.

On November 22, 1963, in Dallas, Texas, at 12:30 p.m., President Kennedy was assassinated.

Within hours, J. Edgar Hoover took control of the investigation. Not the Dallas police, not the Secret Service, the FBI.

Hoover personally directed the FBI investigation of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. And Hoover immediately pushed a conclusion: Lee Harvey Oswald, acting alone, killed the president. No conspiracy, no accomplices, case closed.

Papers around the assassination of JFK released in 2017 revealed several memos from Hoover. The New York Times reported Hoover was angry that Dallas police had allowed someone to shoot Lee Harvey Oswald, the man suspected of having killed the president.

Hoover said that something should be issued so that we can convince the public that Oswald is the real assassin. Think about that phrasing. Not prove, not establish, convince.

Hoover wanted a narrative that would satisfy the public, not necessarily the truth. His investigation of the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963 was specifically criticized for failure to investigate potential conspiracies by a special committee of the U.S. House of Representatives in 1976.

But in November 1963, with Kennedy dead and Lyndon Johnson suddenly president, Hoover had other concerns.

Federal law required Hoover to retire on January 1, 1965, his 70th birthday. He had 13 months left. And with Kennedy gone, Hoover needed to secure his position with the new president.

Lyndon Johnson and Hoover had a relationship Kennedy never had with the FBI director: mutual benefit. According to multiple sources, Hoover had information on Johnson scandals, and Johnson knew it.

His motives, according to one account, were hatred of Kennedy, fear that the president would get rid of him, and a longing for the accession of Lyndon Johnson, whom Hoover had in his pocket because of scandals surrounding the vice president.

On November 23, 1963, one day after Kennedy's assassination, Johnson met with Hoover. In that meeting or shortly after, Johnson made a decision that shocked Washington. He would waive the mandatory retirement age for Hoover.

In 1964, just days before Hoover testified in the earliest stages of the Warren Commission hearings, President Lyndon B. Johnson granted Hoover an indefinite exemption from mandatory retirement.

Hoover would remain FBI director until his death in 1972, nine more years under Johnson and then under Nixon. Both presidents feared Hoover too much to remove him.

Bobby Kennedy continued as attorney general under Johnson for nine months, then resigned to run for Senate. His war with Hoover was over. Hoover had won.

When Bobby ran for president in 1968, Hoover and RFK continued to have a contentious relationship. The FBI chief leaked to the press that RFK approved King's wiretapping during RFK's campaign for the presidency and after King himself was assassinated.

Even after Bobby's assassination in June 1968, Hoover couldn't let go of his hatred for the Kennedys.

So did Hoover's secret files really protect him from being fired? Or is that a myth? The evidence is overwhelming. Hoover's files were his shield.

Nixon admitted on tape he was afraid of Hoover. Truman and Kennedy concluded they couldn't fire him. Johnson exempted him from retirement.

But the more important question is what this says about American democracy. For nearly half a century, an unelected bureaucrat collected secret information on elected officials and used it to make himself untouchable.

Presidents came and went, senators lost elections, but Hoover remained. This is the danger of unchecked institutional power: not dramatic coups, not military takeovers, but subtle, insidious control through information and fear.

Hoover developed a tradition of acquiring as much damaging information as possible on a president, his family, and friends. The fact that a chief executive had the technical power to simply replace him without congressional cooperation did not prevent him from attempting blackmail.

Kennedy tried to challenge Hoover. He treated him with disrespect. He barred him from presidential access. He ordered him to focus on organized crime. But Kennedy couldn't fire him.

Because Hoover had files. Files on Kennedy's affairs. Files on his connections to mob figures. Files that could destroy his presidency if released. And so Hoover stayed, protected not by law, not by performance, but by fear.

After Kennedy's death, revelations about Hoover's abuses slowly emerged: the secret files, the illegal surveillance, the blackmail, the political manipulation.

While 84 percent of Americans gave a highly favorable rating to the FBI in a Gallup poll in 1965, only 71 percent did so in 1970, and a mere 37 percent now feel that way.

J. Edgar Hoover died on May 2, 1972. He was 77 years old. He had been FBI director for 48 years. No successor has come close to matching his tenure, by design.

Congress passed laws limiting FBI directors to 10-year terms specifically to prevent another Hoover.

After his death, Hoover's legacy tainted his undeniable successes at the FBI, most notably professionalizing the federal law enforcement workforce and assembling a huge national database of criminals.

The continuing revelations eroded J. Edgar Hoover's once impregnable reputation as the world's most efficient and incorruptible cop. They also tended to obscure the fact that the FBI organization Hoover developed was a highly disciplined investigative agency compiling a remarkable record of arrests for such major crimes as bank robbery, kidnapping, and espionage.

But the abuses overshadowed the achievements. Hoover built an empire on fear and information, and for decades that empire controlled presidents.

March 22, 1962. J. Edgar Hoover walked into the Oval Office with a file on Judith Campbell Exner. President Kennedy ended the affair that day.

That moment encapsulates the entire relationship. Hoover had information, Kennedy had power, but information trumped power.

Kennedy could have fired Hoover. The president has the authority to dismiss the FBI director. But doing so would have triggered the release of information that could have ended his presidency.

So Kennedy tolerated Hoover, trolled him, disrespected him, but never fired him. And 20 months later, Kennedy was dead.

Hoover investigated the assassination. Hoover controlled the narrative. Hoover ensured no conspiracy would be found, because a conspiracy investigation might reveal uncomfortable truths about what Hoover knew and when he knew it.

The lesson isn't about Kennedy's assassination. The lesson is about institutional power.

In a democracy, elected officials are supposed to control bureaucracies. Presidents appoint, Congress confirms, the people's representatives make the decisions. But what happens when a bureaucrat makes himself unfirable? When he collects enough information to blackmail anyone who threatens him? When he outlasts presidents and builds an empire that serves his interests, not the public's?

That's what Hoover did. For 48 years. And presidents, Roosevelt, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, all feared him.

The vast fortress-like building on Pennsylvania Avenue has been criticized as an architectural disaster and a shocking waste of public funds, $126 million. Now the name cast in bronze begins to be something of an embarrassment in a democratic capital: the J. Edgar Hoover Building.

That building still bears his name, a reminder that for half a century, the most powerful man in Washington wasn't necessarily the president. It was the man with the files.

Democracy dies not with dramatic coups, but with the quiet accumulation of power by those who were never elected. For 48 years, J. Edgar Hoover controlled presidents not with armies or laws, but with files.

And the most terrifying part? It worked.