Speaking Truth to Power (27 page)

Unsatisfied with the answer, the Senator came back, “Well, when you talk about the Senate coming back for more information or the FBI coming back for more information or Senators coming back for more information that has nothing to do at all with Judge Thomas withdrawing, so that when you testified a few moments ago that there might possibly have been a conversation, in response to my question about a possible withdrawal, I would press you on that, Professor Hill, in this context: You have testified with some specificity about what happened
10 years ago. I would ask you to press your recollection as to what happened within the last month.”

“And I have done that, Senator, and I don’t recall that comment.… May I just add this one thing?”

“Sure.” Senator Specter was by now exasperated.

“The nature of that kind of conversation that you’re talking about is very different from the nature of the conversation that I recall. The conversations that I recall were much more vivid. They were more explicit. The conversations that I have had with the staff over the last few days in particular have become much more blurry, but these are vivid events that I recall from even eight years ago when they happened, and they are going to stand out much more in my mind than a telephone conversation. They were one-on-one, personal conversations, as a matter of fact, and that adds to why they are much more easily recalled. I am sure that there are some comments that I do not recall the exact nature of from that period, as well, but these that are here are ones that I do recall.”

“Over the luncheon break, I would ask you to think further, if there is any way you can shed any further light on that question, because I think it is an important one.” Of course the best way to shed light on the question would have been to call the staffers to testify as to who spoke to me. Specter never suggested that. Perhaps this would have been too invasive of the purview of the Senate. Perhaps Specter knew that no senator would have tolerated having a staff member questioned in the manner that he questioned me.

Specter’s short-lived pretense of objectivity soon turned into an inquisitional performance that seemed to be directed as much to the television cameras as to me. When I allowed myself to think of it, the presence of the press was at once intrusive and reassuring. I did not relish saying the things I had to say on national television. Yet I hoped that the senators might temper their accusations and condemnations under the watchful eye of the media. I found no sympathy for my situation among the media. They were there for the story. Moreover, the hot glare of the lights and cameras and their sheer numbers left me cold inside.

Over the course of the morning as the questioning intensified, the room, SD-325, became unbearably warm from the lights as much as from the subject matter of the questions. I reached up to wipe oil from my nose. A hundred cameras flashed in response to that simple act—an act that was so natural to me that I had to think to realize what had prompted the photographers’ sudden interest. No doubt they anticipated some drama—something momentous that might turn the entire proceeding. They wanted to capture the moment on film as it occurred but this was not such a moment. I was simply responding to a lifelong problem—skin which oiled up in the slightest bit of heat.

“Don’t move,” I told myself, freezing almost in midmotion. I resolved to become as motionless as possible. I had to be impervious to the lights and to the heat as well as the natural reactions of my body. Though I felt each one of the senators’ attempts to humiliate me, I vowed not to so much as twitch. I ignored the numbness in my legs and even the pain from the tumors in my abdomen. From that moment on, I did not even take a drink of water in front of the camera. I ignored my dry throat. I sat throughout the “conversations” with the Republicans and Democrats with my hands in front of me and only occasionally would I even lean forward. Oddly enough, this exercise in self-control enabled me to focus on the questioning. Or perhaps it was some sort of divine intervention, some force from outside myself that took over when I needed it. And, of course, years of being impervious to and immobile in the face of hurt.

My family and friends gave me the only comfort of that day, though I grew more and more ambivalent about their presence in the room as the questioning became more invasive and the veiled accusations more apparent. I thought how hard this must be on them. They had to sit in silence throughout it. Behind me my father was seething with anger and frustration at his helplessness to do anything about what was happening to me—to his family. But I could not think of them any more than I could of my own personal discomfort.

It was 1:10
P.M
. I had been testifying for two hours. When we broke for the first time, I was able to talk to my family. Everyone put a good face on during the break. It is our way. In the Senate office room that
had become our ad hoc headquarters, we talked briefly about nothing in particular, all of us remarkably calm. Or perhaps we were just numb. There was no time to analyze what we felt before. Reverend William Harris, a pastor from the church that Emma Coleman Jordan attended, came and prayed with us while my legal advisers dashed about trying to get copies of the statements Specter was using in his questioning. All except for Warner Gardner, who, over a tuna sandwich, engaged me in a pleasant conversation, relating to the hearing only minimally. If he was attempting to divert my attention from the raptures of the proceedings, then it worked, at least for the moment.

But the processional of the twenty family, lawyers, and friends, led by two Secret Service escorts, wound its way back down the high-ceiling corridor of the Russell Building to the caucus room and the afternoon session. It was 2:15.

W
hen the hearing readjourned that afternoon, Senator Heflin broached the subject of the
USA Today
report of the Henderson interview.

“Well, during any conversation with Keith Henderson, did you tell him that certain staffers had told you that if you went ahead and signed the affidavit, that might be a way to get [Judge Thomas] to withdraw?” Senator Heflin’s tone was deliberate—confident. It was, in litigation terminology, an attempt to redirect—to clarify or reestablish the testimony I had given in the morning.

“No, I did not tell him that,” I answered, grateful to be able to respond to a direct question about the newspaper article.

“Well, did you tell him that that was mentioned or that it would have been mentioned relative to this?” Senator Heflin asked.

“No, I didn’t tell him that.”

“Do you know whether or not Keith Henderson talked to certain Judiciary Committee staffers?”

“I don’t know whether he did talk to Judiciary Committee staffers.”

“Well, do you know whether or not there was a conversation between Keith Henderson and some staffer in which they were discussing the affidavit and saying that there were certain possibilities, which included the possibility that Clarence Thomas might withdraw his name?”

“That might have happened, but I haven’t talked with Keith Henderson
about that,” I answered, hoping that this discussion would put an end to the matter. I did not know what any Senate staff had said to Henderson, nor what he might have said to them. This much I did know: no staffer ever promised me that Thomas would withdraw as a result of my statement.

Later, Senator Specter would return to the same line of questioning. In that exchange I allowed that Thomas’ withdrawal might have been discussed because of the procedure which would follow from my raising the claim. This was a foolish concession, for I was uncertain whether that particular possibility was raised, and any concession on my part would only be used against me by the Republicans. At the time of my conversations with Senate staffers, no one had any idea of what was going to happen. When I gave my statement to the Senate on September 23, I am not certain that the staff even knew what process they would follow, much less how Thomas would respond. Nevertheless, Specter continued to press for a contradiction. “And now are you testifying that Mr. Brudney said that if you came forward and made representations as to what you said happened between you and Judge Thomas that Judge Thomas might withdraw his nomination?”

“I was attempting, in talking to the staff, to understand how the information would be used, what I would have to do, what might be the outcome of such a use. We talked about a number of possibilities, but there was never any indication that, by simply making these allegations, the nominee would withdraw from the process. No one ever said that, and I did not say that anyone ever said that.”

The tension between Senator Specter and me was measurable. The process seemed to break down completely. Senator Specter would repeat the same question until he got the answer he wanted—that a staffer induced me to come forward with the story with a promise Thomas would withdraw. Specter was only more provoked by admission that Thomas’ withdrawal might have been mentioned. In a court of law, Specter’s questioning would have been limited. A court might have stopped him from repeating questions asked and answered previously or even admonished him for arguing with or badgering the witness. But this
was not a court, as Biden had informed us from the start, and Biden was exercising little authority as chairman to limit the form of questions.

To the press and spectators, we must have sounded silly and ill tempered. More than one sigh erupted from the seats behind me as Specter returned to the questioning and I once more gave my explanation. Clearly, neither of us would budge from our position. Something in the back of my head said, “Just say what he wants you to say and get on with it.” But I was much too stubborn to do that. And the more he pursued it, the more inclined I was to resist. Digging in was, perhaps, for me one way of hanging on to some amount of my dignity. By now I knew that his questions were both insincere and ill informed. Though I tried to answer him, I was equally determined that the senator not put words in my mouth. With every question he asked, it became clearer that despite any declaration to the contrary, he viewed me as an adversary. Rather than seeking to elicit information, his questioning sought to elicit a conclusion that he had reached before the hearing began. When he questioned me about comments I had made to a
Kansas City Star
reporter, his purpose of finding some inconsistency in my account became ever clearer.

“When you say that Judge Thomas would have made a better Supreme Court Justice, you are saying that, at one state of his career, he would have made an adequate Supreme Court Justice.”

“Well, I am not sure that that’s what I am saying at all. I am sure that what I was trying to give to that reporter was my assessment of him objectively without considering the personal information that I had.” I had caught on to the fact that I could concede nothing in responding to Senator Specter.

“Isn’t the long and short of it, Professor Hill, that when you spoke to the
Kansas City Star
reporter, that you were saying, at one point in his career he would have been okay for the Supreme Court?”

Explaining my feelings to this man was useless, for whatever I said he would doubt. Even inconsequential responses met with his skepticism. “No,” I responded with no intention of saying any more. I had tired of his tactics. There was a pause of about twenty seconds. Perhaps the
longest of the day. Neither of us spoke. The silence was palpable and intense. It seemed the room had grown accustomed to my explaining myself, but by now I was weary of it.

Finally, the senator broke the silence. “What were you saying as to Judge Thomas’s qualifications for the Supreme Court when you spoke to the reporter in August?” For the first time in his questioning, Senator Specter asked me what I was saying instead of suggesting what I had said.

“One of the comments that the reporter made was that some have complained that he has a set ideology and that he won’t be able to review cases on their own. My comment went to whether or not he did have that set ideology and it was that now he did, whereas a few years ago, I did not find that to be so.”

Senator Specter’s more open-ended question gave me a chance to explain myself. This form of question is asked in order to elicit information from witnesses believed to be trustworthy. In a nonadversarial, fact-finding hearing, the more open-ended questioning is appropriate because it allows for a greater exchange of information without assuming a conclusion. This was a small victory in what had become a battle of wills.

S
enator Specter’s questioning on the
USA Today
article was an attempt to indict Jim Brudney of Senator Metzenbaum’s office. Senator Specter hoped to get me to say that Brudney had promised me that if I signed the affidavit, Judge Thomas would withdraw. This would lend support to the theory offered by Senator Hatch that my statement was a part of a Democratic conspiracy to derail the nomination. When the public demanded a hearing on my charges, Senator Hatch accused Senator Metzenbaum of leaking the FBI report to the press. Though Hatch offered no proof and Senator Metzenbaum had denied it, Senator Specter pursued Hatch’s lead, operating on the preposterous theory that I had been duped into raising the claim by a promise from Jim Brudney.

Senator Specter’s theory assumed not only a level of naiveté of which even I was incapable but also gross dishonesty on the part of Jim Brudney. There was no such promise, nor would I ever have believed Brudney
to be in a position to keep such a promise. Specter sought the answers needed to support the theories the Republicans invented to explain my statement—theories spun out of pure conjecture and off-the-record comments from obscure and unrelated sources. Before and during the hearing the Republicans paraded before the press every possible explanation for my complaint other than the truth. The “spurned lover,” the “oversensitive prude,” and the “political conspiracy” theories were to prove favorites.

Though he never got the testimony he needed to support the conspiracy theory, Senator Specter soon found another use for his line of questioning on the
USA Today
article. These exchanges served as the basis for a charge on the following day that I had committed “flat-out perjury” in my testimony before the committee. The charge was baseless and, as I was not testifying when Specter made it, it was published by the press before I had any chance to respond. If I had won the battle of wills on the
USA Today
article, Senator Specter once again showed that the Republicans could prevail in the field of rhetoric. The headline would read, “Specter Accuses Hill of Flat Out Perjury,” and no one would need to read the details to know that Specter was calling me a liar. Thus, Specter left the public to infer that, as a perjurer, I must have lied about everything I described. I doubt he much cared what the public believed about me as long as they believed that Thomas was worthy of the position on the Court.