The scene at the White House East Room on June 29 was
incongruous, if predictable. Nearly 200 gay leaders were assembled
to hear the soothing words of the president, who has yet to do
anything significant regarding the causes for which they lobby. But
that didn't stop the activists from fawning over Barack Obama; the
Washington Blade reported that cries of "I love you!" could be
heard from the crowd. Such embarrassing expressions of infatuation
were not owing to the open bar.
In the four decades that it has been politically active, the gay
community has stood foursquare behind the Democratic Party. Gay
identification with liberalism in general and the Democrats in
particular is so strong that many conflate the success of the party
with that of the movement. Gays overwhelmingly vote for Democratic
candidates and pour millions of dollars into Democratic coffers.
Homosexuality and political liberalism are inextricably intertwined
in the popular consciousness. Even when Democrats support antigay
measures - like the odious Defense of Marriage Act and "don't ask,
don't tell," for which we have Bill Clinton to thank - gays rally
to the party with votes and cash.
More telling than this ostensibly "pro-gay" president's dilatory
strategy on moving legislation, however, is the mix of indignation
and bewilderment on the part of so many gay activists. Given their
unconditional support for Democrats, how can gays credibly claim to
be surprised that Democratic politicians take us for granted? Why
move pro-gay legislation forward when there are no consequences for
doing nothing? The relationship between gays and Democrats is like
battered wife syndrome. We keep coming back for more abuse.
"The facade of the gay movement has always been that Republicans
are the bad guys," says Rich Tafel, the former executive director
of the Log Cabin Republicans. "Now that [Republicans] are
completely powerless, the illusion that the Democrats are
everything is being torn down." That's a wise perception as far as
the cowardice and double-talk of the Democrats goes. But is there
any hope for gays on the other side of the aisle?
In an ideal world the GOP would be a more hospitable place for
the gay electorate. Battered in the 2008 congressional election and
having waved goodbye to one of the most unpopular presidents in the
history of polling, the Republican Party is now in the early stages
of a long and vicious rebuilding phase. One would hope that as they
examine the factors that have contributed to their downfall,
Republicans will recognize that their positions on issues affecting
gay Americans have played some part.
Unfortunately, with the internal disarray of the Log Cabin
Republicans, the party is lacking the institutional apparatus to
support pro-gay figures from within. Many gay Republicans
understandably gave up on their party long ago; President Bush's
support for the Federal Marriage Amendment was the last nail in the
coffin for this beleaguered crew. The creation of the Log Cabin
splinter group GOProud earlier this year should not be taken as a
resurgence of gay support for Republicans, as it had more to do
with personality differences between the leaders of both
organizations than a newfound burst of conservatism among gays.
If Republican leaders were smart (which, to be sure, they show
few signs of being), one of the first steps they could take to
persuade younger voters of their electoral worthiness would be to
drop active opposition to gay rights. If they can't be persuaded to
do this on substantive grounds, then the polling numbers ought to
convince them that their platform will soon prove to be a huge
electoral liability.
That's because the political utility of gay bashing is past its
peak. With each passing day more and more Americans see the sense
of allowing same-sex couples to gain legal recognition for their
relationships and patriotic gay Americans to serve openly in the
nation's armed forces. Younger voters overwhelmingly support gay
rights, and the more the party solidifies its reputation as a
bulwark against this major societal shift, the greater will be the
lasting damage to its reputation, much like Richard Nixon's
southern strategy doomed the Republican Party - once the political
home of African-Americans - with black voters. Adopting a more
tolerant stance is also in the best traditions of a party that
purports to stand for individual liberty, limited government, and
the fundamental right of Americans to live their lives as they see
fit - all tenets of the gay rights movement.
The more perceptive Republicans realize this. Take Meghan
McCain, daughter of Sen. John McCain. In a matter of months she's
written, talked, and tweeted her way into becoming the most
outspoken Republican advocate for gay rights, doing everything from
a photo shoot on behalf of the No H8 campaign to raising money for
the Trevor Project anti-suicide hotline to acting as the keynote
speaker at this year's Log Cabin Republicans convention. Gays
should welcome whatever support they can find within the ranks of
the GOP, but at the end of the day McCain is the daughter of a
failed presidential candidate who was never particularly popular
among Republicans in the first place. She's not a potential party
leader.
As for an actual elected official who could lead the party out
of the antigay wilderness, such hopes rested largely on the
shoulders of former Utah governor Jon Huntsman, a Mormon who, in
contrast to the leaders of his church, supports civil unions for
gay couples. Earlier this year, however, in a brilliant political
move that neutralized a rising star and potential rival, President
Obama appointed Huntsman as his ambassador to China. And so the
gays' loss is the country's gain.
In June former vice president Dick Cheney reiterated, however
vaguely, his support for gay marriage, stating, "I think people
ought to be free to enter into any kind of union they wish." This
was not exactly news; Cheney, after all, has a gay daughter, and he
registered his opposition to the FMA in the 2004 presidential
campaign. And it's slightly disingenuous for gay conservatives like
those in GOProud to trumpet Cheney's halfhearted endorsement of gay
marriage as proof that he's better on the issue than Obama. Cheney
did nothing to press the cause of gay rights when he was in the
White House. Now that he's liberated to speak his mind on a whole
host of topics - something he's shown no hesitation in doing - he
can only be bothered to talk about gay rights when pressed by
reporters. If Cheney can launch a campaign attacking the Obama
administration's antiterrorism policies, why can't he find time to
rebut the antigay figures on the right wing of his own party who
wish to treat his daughter as a second-class citizen? Surely, as a
former secretary of Defense, Cheney has insights into the utility
of "don't ask, don't tell"?
The apparent self-inflicted immolation of Sarah Palin's
political career cannot be viewed as anything but a boon for gay
rights. Though she has a scant record on the issues, as the GOP's
vice-presidential candidate, Palin opposed the man at the top of
the ticket with her support for the Federal Marriage Amendment. And
her careerist attempt to position herself as the standard-bearer of
the party's socially conservative wing suggests that she would
effortlessly embrace its antigay politics were she to run for
national office. But even with Palin out of the picture (for now),
there's little reason to be hopeful about the 2012 GOP field.
Front-runner Mitt Romney cemented his reputation as a flip-flopper
largely due to his cynical positioning as a "pro-family" candidate
during the 2008 Republican presidential primaries, trumpeting his
opposition to gay marriage during his years as Massachusetts
governor to win over evangelicals wary of his Mormonism. Mike
Huckabee, another 2012 contender, campaigned on explicitly
conservative Christian themes, while Newt Gingrich railed about
"gay and secular fascism" in the wake of Proposition 8.
So is a gay-friendly GOP too much to hope for? Probably, at
least in the near future. But just because the Republican Party
shows little sign of moderating does not mean that Democrats should
get a free ride, and the decision by some major gay activists and
donors to boycott a June DNC fund-raiser is a welcome development.
Obama has delivered major speeches on divisive topics like race and
abortion, speeches that, unlike so much political pabulum these
days, made Americans think. Why can't he deliver a White House
address tearing down the last acceptable social prejudice? His
unique station as the nation's first African-American president
provides him with a historic opportunity to do just that.
Divining what the president might say were he inclined to
deliver such a game-changing speech is not difficult; a recent
proclamation he issued celebrating June as LGBT Pride Month
contained a few hints. "As long as the promise of equality for all
remains unfulfilled," Obama declared, "all Americans are affected."
By framing the lack of equality for gays as an issue that affects
all citizens - and not just those directly affected by
discriminatory laws - the president went further than any of his
predecessors in emphasizing the fundamental injustice of the status
quo, and he intimated that his sweeping promise of "change" will
also benefit gay people. As a candidate, Obama complained about
those who criticized his campaign as offering "just words." But
words are all he's offered thus far, leading us to the conclusion
that the conflation of the Democratic Party's interests and those
of the gay rights movement is a status quo equally in need of
change.