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.