Speaking Truth to Power - Anita Hill [102]
Bewildered and angered by Thomas’ remarks, I watched as the stunned Democratic members of the panel lost any moral authority they might have asserted in keeping the proceeding balanced. Two days later on Sunday afternoon, Senator Kennedy would attempt to respond to the allegations of racism. And as a proponent of civil rights legislation, he was in a prime position to take on the claim of racial bias. But however articulate and reasoned his speech, none of his Democratic colleagues seconded it. Thomas’ claim of a high-tech lynching had given the Republicans something akin to a spiritual boost—a platform of righteousness. They had already indicated that they could indeed win a battle to control public information about the hearing. Judge Thomas’ high-tech lynching claim gave them a moral justification for moving forward in their attacks against me. The Republicans could now claim that their aggressive pursuit of the Thomas nomination was motivated by their resistance to racism. Though Thomas supporters may once have claimed that racism no longer existed and used Thomas to support their assertion, they now could claim to deplore racism and use Thomas’ treatment as an example of why it still had to be fought.
And though I know the power that the label of racism had over the Democratic senators, I would not understand until days later the extent to which I, too, had been labeled a racist or an accomplice of racism.
Had the questioning of Judge Thomas been similarly argumentative, the proceeding would have had the appearance of fairness. But Judge Thomas’ questioning that evening by Senator Hatch and other senators was deferential, even conciliatory. “Judge Thomas, I have sat here and I have listened all day long, and Anita Hill was very impressive,” Senator Hatch said. “She is an impressive law professor. She is a Yale Law graduate. And, when she met with the FBI, she said that you told her about your sexual experiences and preferences. And I hate to go into this but I want to go into it because I have to, and I know that is something that you wish you had never heard at any time or place. But I think it is important that we go into it, and let me just do it this way.”
Hatch prepared Thomas for his questioning by apologetically explaining the necessity for his action. “She said to the FBI that you told her about your sexual experiences and preferences, that you asked her what she liked or if she had ever done the same thing, that you discussed oral sex between men and women, that you discussed viewing films of people having sex with each other and with animals, and that you told her that she should see such films, and that you would like to discuss specific sex acts and the frequency of sex. What about that?”
“Senator, I would not want to, except being required to here, to dignify those allegations with a response. As I have said before, I categorically deny them. To me, I have been pilloried with scurrilous allegations of this nature. I have denied them earlier and I deny them tonight.” This Clarence Thomas was almost deferential. Yet only minutes later he would go on the attack—an attack that would clear the way for his confirmation.
Not only did the questioning of Thomas beg an answer which allowed him to exonerate himself but the language used to describe the nature of the conduct which I testified to was much less sexually graphic than when I was questioned.
“Did you ever have lunch with Professor Hill at which you talked about sex or pressured her to go out with you?”
“Absolutely not.” Oddly, the senator did not ask if Thomas had asked me out—only if he had “pressured” me to go out. Thomas might have answered in a way that was truthful to him, not seeing the numerous requests as pressure.
“Did you ever tell Professor Hill that she should see pornographic films?” The senator meticulously went down his list of questions, mentioning the gist of the charges but relieving Thomas of the responsibility of responding to any of the