Whenever one of these morality scandals erupts - whether it
involves homosexuality, adultery, or being on a list compiled by
someone the media calls a "Madam" - it often involves a Republican.
Critics love to charge Republicans with hypocrisy - preaching
traditional family values to the rest of us by day while trolling
bathrooms and pressing sweaty palms to computer keyboards by
night.
Whatever explains these other public moral dramas, hypocrisy
doesn't fully capture the GOP's plainly dysfunctional relationship
to homosexuality. Yes, there are many prominent Republicans whose
private actions are inconsistent with their traditional-values
personas and thus are properly called hypocrites. Sen. Larry Craig
is the latest of them. Jim West had an aggressively anti-gay record
both as a Washington state legislator and as mayor of Spokane, yet
cruised for gay sex and anonymously told an online acquaintance
that he hated the "sex Nazis" who try to regulate people's private
lives. There are many other examples.
But there are also many closeted gay Republicans not closely
associated with the party's religious right for whom the hypocrisy
charge is ill-fitting. Mark Foley, of last year's congressional
page scandal, was not an anti-gay member of Congress. While he
didn't support everything I wish he had, I'd take his record on gay
issues over many Democrats'.
Most gay Republicans despise the party's anti-gay rhetoric and
actions. They're Republicans because they're pro-life, support low
taxes, want a strong national defense, or for any of a hundred
other reasons. You could call it hypocrisy to be gay and work for a
generally anti-gay political party, regardless of the gay person's
own views or what she does within the party to oppose its anti-gay
policy positions, but if so, this is surely a watered-down form of
the vice.
What unites these scandals is not really hypocrisy. It's two
other things. First, nearly all the gay Republicans working in
Washington or elsewhere are to one degree or another closeted.
Second, at a personal level, very few Republican officials around
them care whether someone is gay.
From the top of the party hierarchy to the bottom, few
Republicans personally and viscerally dislike gay people. President
Bush has had friends he knew were gay. Vice President Cheney's
daughter is gay. Even the most prominently and vigorously anti-gay
Republican, Sen. Rick "Man on Dog" Santorum, had a gay spokesperson
whom he defended when his homosexuality became known.
The big, open secret in Republican politics is that everyone
knows someone gay these days and very few people - excepting some
committed anti-gay activists - really care. It's one of the things
that drives religious conservatives crazy because it makes the
party look like it's not really committed to traditional sexual
morality.
So to keep religious conservatives happy the party has done two
things. First, it has supported anti-gay public policies.
Second, to keep the talent it needs and simply to be as humane
and decent as politically possible toward particular individuals,
the party has come up with its own unwritten code: you can be gay
and work here, we don't care, but don't talk about it openly and
don't do anything to make it known publicly. It's the GOP's own
internal version of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."
This is ideological schizophrenia: private acceptance welded to
public rejection. It's a very brittle alloy.
For the closeted gay Republican, this alloy means a life of
desperation and fear and loneliness, of expressing one's true
feelings only in the anonymity of the Internet, of furtive bathroom
encounters, of late nights darting in and out of dark bars, hoping
not to be seen. It means life without a long-term partner, without
real love.
Worst of all, it may mean a life of deceiving a spouse and
children. Most of the men caught cruising in parks, bathrooms, and
other public places are deeply closeted and often married. They
don't see themselves as having many other options.
Nevertheless, it seems to work until the day you get caught
tapping your toe next to an overzealous cop. Desperation sets in
and you say things that bring everyone great joy at your expense,
like, "I'm not gay, I just have a wide stance."
For the GOP, this alloy of public rejection and private
acceptance means enduring more of these periodic public morality
convulsions. How to end it? The private acceptance will continue
and, I predict, become even more common as young conservatives
comfortable around gay people take over. There will be no purging
the party of gays. There is no practical way to purge them, and
even if there were, most Republicans would be personally repulsed
by the effort.
These closeted politicians, staffers, and party functionaries
will periodically be found out and again will come the shock, the
pledges to go into rehab, the investigations, the charges of
hypocrisy, the schadenfreude from Democrats and libertines, and the
sense of betrayal from the party's religious conservatives.
The only practical way out of this for the GOP is to come to the
point where its homosexuals no longer feel the need to hide. And
_that_ won't happen until the party's public philosophy is more
closely aligned with its private one. That will be the day when the
GOP greets its gay supporters the way Larry Craig, with unintended
irony, greeted reporters at his news conference: "Thank you all
very much for coming out today."