First published on June 13, 2004, in The Washington
Post.
On July 1 Virginia takes a big step backward, into the shadow of
Jim Crow.
I do not write those words lightly or rhetorically. Although I'm
an advocate of same-sex marriage, I have taken care not to throw
around motive-impugning words such as bigotry, hate or homophobia.
I have worked hard to avoid facile comparisons between the struggle
for gay marriage and the struggle for civil rights for African
Americans; the similarities are real, but so are the
differences.
Above all, I have been careful to distinguish between animus
against gay people and opposition to same-sex marriage. No doubt
the two often conjoin. But millions of Americans bear no ill will
toward their gay and lesbian fellow citizens, yet still draw back
from changing the boundaries of society's most fundamental
institution. The ban on gay marriage in 49 states (Massachusetts,
of course, being the newly minted exception) may well be unfair and
unwise, as I believe it to be. Yet people of good conscience can
maintain that although all individuals are equal, all couples are
not.
If I seem to be splitting hairs, that is because Virginia -
where my partner and I make our home - is not splitting hairs. It
has instead taken a baseball bat to civic equality, thanks to the
so-called Marriage Affirmation Act.
The act - really an amendment to an earlier law - was passed in
April, over Gov. Mark R. Warner's objections, and it takes effect
July 1. It says, "A civil union, partnership contract or other
arrangement between persons of the same sex purporting to bestow
the privileges and obligations of marriage is prohibited." It goes
on to add that any such union, contract or arrangement entered into
in any other state, "and any contractual rights created thereby,"
are "void and unenforceable in Virginia."
When gay marriage came up, Virginia was among the first states
to preemptively ban it, in 1997. Moreover, Virginia is the only
state to forbid even private companies, unless self-insured, from
extending health insurance benefits to unmarried couples. That
provision affects cohabiting straights but works a far greater
hardship on gay couples, who cannot marry.
Those steps, however, impinge on the power of third parties
(corporations and the government) to recognize gay couples. In the
Marriage Affirmation Act, Virginia appears to abridge gay
individuals' right to enter into private contracts with each other.
On its face, the law could interfere with wills, medical
directives, powers of attorney, child custody and property
arrangements, even perhaps joint bank accounts. If a gay
Californian was hit by a bus in Arlington, her medical power of
attorney might be worthless there. "Sorry," the hospital might have
to say to her frantic partner, "your contract means nothing here.
Now leave before we call security."
Some of the law's sponsors have denied intending such a
draconian result, and courts may interpret the text's vague and
peculiar language more narrowly. Nonetheless, the law as written is
a threat to all Virginians and indeed to all Americans, gay and
straight alike.
Before Thomas Jefferson substituted the timeless phrase "pursuit
of happiness," the founding fathers held that mankind's unalienable
entitlements were to life, liberty and property. By "property" they
meant not just material possessions but what we call autonomy.
"Every man has a property in his own person," John Locke said.
It is by entering into contracts that we bind ourselves to each
other. Without the right of contract, participation in economic and
social life is impossible; thus is that right enshrined in Article
I, Section 10 of the Constitution. Slaves could not enter into
contracts because they were the property of others rather than
themselves; nor could children, who were wards of their parents. To
be barred from contract, the founders understood, is to lose
ownership of oneself.
To abridge the right of contract for same-sex partners, then, is
to deny not just gay coupledom, in the law's eyes, but gay
personhood. It disenfranchises gay people as individuals. It makes
us nonpersons, subcitizens. By stripping us of our bonds to each
other, it strips us even of ownership of ourselves.
Americans have a name for the use of law in this fashion, and
that name is Jim Crow. It is not a name much called for anymore,
but the Marriage Affirmation Act - could that name be any more
inapt? - is the genuine article.
The law may be found unconstitutional or narrowed through
interpretation, but judicial review could take years. Far better,
in any case, would be for the legislature to salvage its good name
by repudiating and repealing the law.
The legislature needs some help in recognizing its error. Dyana
Mason of Equality Virginia, a gay advocacy group, notes that the
new ban is beginning to attract some outside notice. A nascent
movement to boycott Virginia has formed. A few newspapers,
including the Washington Post, have editorialized against
the law.
That is a start. But when Rhea County, Tenn., tried to ban gays
from living there, it became a national laughingstock and hastily
backed down.
Obstructing gay couples' private contracts is no less vindictive
and abusive, and it deserves the same nationwide opprobrium -
especially among conservatives who distinguish between denying
marriage to gay couples and denying civil rights to gay
individuals. If Virginia's attack on basic legal equality does not
offend and embarrass conservatives, what anti-gay measure possibly
could? And if this law is not snuffed out, what might be next?