The hearing began. Charlie Campbell smiled down at Mary. “Good morning, Mrs. Ashley. We thank you for appearing before this committee. We will proceed to the questions.”
They started innocently enough.
“Name…?”
“Widow…?”
“Children…?”
The questions were gentle and supportive.
“According to the biography we’ve been furnished, Mrs. Ashley, for the last several years you’ve taught political science at Kansas State University. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re a native of Kansas?”
“Yes, Senator.”
“Your grandparents were Romanian?”
“My grandfather. Yes, sir.”
“You’ve written a book and articles on rapprochement between the United States and Soviet-bloc countries?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The latest article was printed in Foreign Affairs magazine and came to the attention of the President?”
“That’s my understanding.”
“Mrs. Ashley, would you kindly tell this committee what the basic premise of your article is?”
Her nervousness was rapidly disappearing. She was on sure ground now, discussing a subject on which she was an authority. She felt as though she were conducting a seminar at school.
“Several regional economic pacts currently exist in the world, and because they are mutually exclusive, they serve to divide the world into antagonistic and competitive blocs, instead of uniting it. Europe has the Common Market, the Eastern Bloc has COMECON, and then there is the OECD, consisting of the free market countries, and the nonaligned movement of Third World states. My premise is very simple: I would like to see all the various and discrete organizations linked together by economic ties. Individuals who are engaged in a profitable partnership don’t kill one another. I believe that the same principle applies to countries. I would like to see our country spearhead a movement to form a common market that includes allies and adversaries alike. Today, as an example, we’re paying billions of dollars to store surplus grain in grain elevators while people in dozens of countries are starving. The one-world common market could solve that. It could cure inequities of distribution, at fair market prices for everyone. I would like to try to help make that happen.”
Senator Harold Turkel, a senior member of the Foreign Relations Committee and a member of the Opposition party, spoke up. “I’d like to ask the nominee a few questions.”
Ben Cohn leaned forward in his seat. Here we go.
Senator Turkel was in his seventies, tough and abrasive, a noted curmudgeon. “Is this your first time in Washington, Mrs. Ashley?”
“Yes, sir. I think it’s one of the most—”
“I suppose you’ve done a good deal of traveling?”
“Well, no. My husband and I had planned to travel, but—”
“Have you ever been to New York?”
“No, sir.”
“California?”
“No, sir.”
“Been to Europe?”
“No. As I said, we planned to—”
“Have you, in fact, ever been outside the state of Kansas, Mrs. Ashley?”
“Yes. I gave a lecture at the University of Chicago and a series of talks in Denver and Atlanta.”
Turkel said dryly, “That must have been very exciting for you, Mrs. Ashley. I can’t recall when this committee has been asked to approve a less-qualified candidate for an ambassadorial post. You expect to represent the United States of America in a sensitive iron curtain country, and you’re telling us that your entire knowledge of the world comes from living in Junction City, Kansas, and spending a few days in Chicago, Denver, and Atlanta. Is that true?”
Mary was aware of the television cameras focused on her, and she held back her temper. “No, sir. My knowledge of the world comes from studying it. I have a Ph.D. in political science and I’ve been teaching at Kansas State University for five years, with an emphasis on the iron curtain countries. I’m familiar with the current problems of the Romanian people and what their government thinks of the United States, and why.” Her voice was stronger now. “All they know about this country is what their propaganda machines tell them. I would like to go over there and try to convince them that the United States is not a greedy, war-hungry country. I would like to show them what a typical American family is like. I—”
She broke off, afraid she had gone too far in her anger. And then, to her surprise, the members of the committee started to applaud. All except Turkel.