I have a confession to make: I compulsively watch Ann Coulter whenever I happen to catch her on TV. She's like watching a movie in which you know there will be a disaster but you aren't sure how and when it will come about. You stick around for the climax.
Coulter climaxed in early March at an annual convention of conservative activists, where she said: "I was going to have a few comments on the other Democratic presidential candidate, John Edwards, but it turns out you have to go into rehab if you use the word 'faggot,' so I [pause for audience reaction] -- so kind of an impasse, can't really talk about Edwards."
She later defended her use of what she conceded was a "sophomoric" word by saying it was a "school-yard taunt" meant not to imply that Edwards was homosexual but that he was "lame" and a "wuss." It was also a reference to a recent incident in which TV star Isaiah Washington referred to a co-star as a "faggot." When the incident became public, Washington went into counseling. Coulter cracked that she would never insult gays by comparing them to Edwards.
Was Coulter's use of the word objectionable? Of course it was. The word is a school-yard taunt, as Coulter said. It's been hurled at many gay (and straight) youths as they grow up, to great and painful effect. But how exactly does this fact cleanse her use of it? It works as a taunt precisely because of its association with homosexuality, and because of the implication that male homosexuals are, as Coulter might have it, lame wusses.
Coulter may not be personally anti-gay in the sense of being uncomfortable around gay people. But it's possible to use stereotypes and hate for personal or political gain without actually being personally hateful, and she's to be condemned for that. I don't expect much better from Coulter, whom a straight right-wing friend described to me as having intellectual Tourette's.
Much more interesting was the reaction. From the videotape, the audience appears to have reacted with a mix of surprise, bewilderment, disapproval, murmuring, laughter, and finally applause. You can see from Coulter's face that she herself was a bit taken aback by the fact that the reaction was not universal mirth.
All three of the major Republican presidential candidates somewhat perfunctorily denounced Coulter. Mitt Romney has noticeably adopted President Bush's mantra about homosexuals, affirming blandly that all persons are entitled to be treated with "dignity and respect." Reaction from the conservative blogosphere was, in varying degrees and with varying qualifications, censorious.
Still, why did anyone laugh at or applaud the remark? It wasn't even mildly humorous, either as a reference to the Washington incident, as an anti-gay joke, or as a slap at Edwards.
When I was in college and law school, young conservatives like me adopted a highly adversarial and theatrical persona when it came to politics. This persona was formed and honed in debating societies. We would say the most outlandish things, defend the most extreme propositions, to amuse each other and to annoy and shock liberals on campus. It was and is, especially on campuses dominated by liberal faculties and students -- which is to say most colleges and law schools -- the transgressive and nonconformist thing to do.
It was entertaining and fun, and we understood that we didn't really believe most of the things we were saying in quite the way we said them. The world was, in our rhetoric, one of absolute certainties, black and white, right and wrong, patriot and traitor, admitting no doubt. Anyone who did not hold forth in this stylized fashion was a "squish." It was the conservative version of political theater, fueled by the kind of self confidence you get after a couple of gin-and-tonics.
Back in college, a conservative friend once saw a book about the Inquisition on my desk, then looked at me and quipped, "Pro or con?"
We would debate topics like, "Resolved: The Government Should Surrender in the War on Poverty," and "Resolved: The Public Schools Should Be Padlocked, Not Reformed."
It didn't do any real harm and actually goaded complacent campuses into political discussion. But most of us grew up, got jobs, lived in the real world where much is squishy, and dropped the bravado if not the conservative politics.
Most of us weren't at the forefront of gay rights, but I never heard anyone call another person "faggot." A surprisingly large number of us turned out to be gay.
A big part of the audience that laughed at and applauded Coulter also comes from that milieu. There were a lot of young male conservatives present who are still in college or are fresh from it. They were laughing and clapping, not necessarily because they hate gays or like cheap name-calling (though I'm sure some of them do), but because they revel in this form of rebellion. They can't admit to consuming pornography, or to smoking dope, or to looking at other guys in the gym, but they can applaud things that rightly appall responsible people. There's no excuse for it in this instance, but at least most of them will grow out of it.
Coulter, an aging conservative frat boy, a right-wing minstrel, keeps it up because it gets her money and attention. The less we give her of both the better off we'll all be.