For the gay marriage debate, 2009 was transitional instead of
transformative, but the year was historic nonetheless. To mangle
Churchill, it was not the end, nor even the beginning of the end,
but it was at least the beginning of the middle.
This is an issue on which the fundamentals of public opinion
change glacially. Support for same-sex marriage is rising, but only
by about a percentage point or so a year. Essentially, a third of
the public supports gay marriage, another third or so supports
civil unions instead, and the remaining third opposes any kind of
legal status for same-sex couples.
Although public-opinion fundamentals didn't change in 2009; the
politics of gay marriage did. Here are the ways the year marked a
shift to what a storyteller might call the "long middle."
The preemptive strikes on both sides have
failed. Early on, conservatives feared that courts would
impose same-sex marriage nationally by fiat. They responded with an
attempt to ban gay marriage nationally by constitutional amendment.
But the federal courts kept their distance, and the amendment was
rebuffed.
As the year ends, it is clear that neither side can knock the
other off the field. Gay marriage is firmly established in five
states (with the District of Columbia's likely to follow suit), but
it is banned, often by constitutional amendment, in most of the
others. Unless the Supreme Court shocks the country and itself by
declaring gay marriage a constitutional right, the issue will take
years, perhaps decades, to resolve. All-or-nothing activists will
be disappointed, but the country will get the time it needs to make
up its mind.
Legislators are taking over from judges. For
years, the only way same-sex marriage seemed possible was by court
order. But with state venues for pro-gay-marriage lawsuits having
just about dried up, the fight has moved from the lower courts to
the political branches, much as the civil rights struggle did in
the 1960s. Now, as then, legislative victories afford the movement
more momentum and popular legitimacy than judicial ones ever
could.
Opponents were fond of arguing that the gay-marriage movement
was not just wrongheaded but antidemocratic. But in 2009, gay
marriage was passed by the legislatures and signed into law in
Maine and New Hampshire, and it was enacted by a veto-overriding
majority in Vermont. Nothing undemocratic about that.
Same-sex marriage has been mainstreamed. In its
first decade or so on the national stage, gay marriage was a fringe
idea, the property of the political far left. No longer. Gay
marriage may still be losing at the ballot box, but in Maine in
2009, as in California in 2008, the margins have grown tight. With
its establishment last spring in Iowa, same-sex marriage has
penetrated the heartland, by court order but with little backlash.
Many Democrats have come to see support for gay unions as a
political plus. Increasingly, it is the opponents who are playing
cultural defense, insisting that they are the ones who are being
marginalized and stigmatized.
There's a backlash against the backlash. The
most important trend of 2009 began Nov. 4, 2008, when California
voters passed Proposition 8, revoking gay marriage in their state.
Until then, the preponderance of passion lay with opponents. After
Prop. 8, however, many heterosexuals embraced gay marriage, taking
ownership of an issue that they have come to view as the next great
civil rights battle.
For same-sex marriage advocates, the emergence of a dedicated
core of straight supporters is a sea change. There is now
comparable energy and commitment on both sides.
It was just such passion, indeed, that led two of the country's
most distinguished lawyers - Theodore Olson, a Republican, and
David Boies, a Democrat - to join hands across party lines in 2009
and file a lawsuit asking the federal courts to overturn
California's Proposition 8. The case is a long shot legally, but
the fact that it has attracted such solidly mainstream legal talent
is one more sign that the same-sex marriage issue has come of
age.