Originally appeared October 30, 2002, in the Chicago Free
Press.
HARRY HAY, who died recently at the age of 90, was the principal
founder in 1950/51 of the early gay Mattachine Society. But Hay
lived to see the gay movement grow in a very different direction
from his original vision and he denounced it for what most of us
would regard as its very successes - legal reform, partner
recognition, media visibility - and played little role in organized
gay activism after 1953.
Hay had one big idea. After reading Kinsey and recalling a
short-lived Chicago gay organization in the 1920s Hay decided that
homosexuals should form an organization to advance their interests.
And he had the courage and perseverance to create one. But for the
rest, his ideas seem now, from a distance of 50 years, largely
without merit.
A Communist Party member from 1933 to 1951, Hay was asked to
withdraw because Party members felt his homosexuality was "a
security risk" (to the Party!) but the Party formally declared him
"a lifelong friend of the people" - i.e., non-Party communist. He
apparently retained his radical sympathies for the rest of his
life, visiting the Soviet Union shortly before its collapse.
As a Communist Hay imbibed secrecy, paranoia and an ideology of
authoritarian control by unknown leaders and he brought those to
Mattachine. But in 1953 members rebelled, forcing Hay to withdraw.
In a 1974 interview, Hay said, "What the opposition wanted was an
open, democratic organization." Hay didn't want that: "In order to
be such an organization, all the idealism that we held while we
were a private organization would have to go."
The "idealism" amounted to this: "... a great transcendent dream
of what being Gay was all about. I had proposed from the very
beginning that it would be Mattachine's job to find out who we Gays
were (and had been over the millennia) and what we were for and, on
such bases to find ways to make our contributions to our parent
hetero society."
Why that required secret leaders, dictatorial control, and no
elections Hay never explained.
Hay's "idealism" had three components: a) gays are qualitatively
different from heterosexuals, mentally, psychologically,
spiritually, not just in "what they do in bed;" b) the core
difference lies in the natural androgyny of homosexuals, that they
embody both male and female elements; and c) in order to help
promote their acceptance gays need to explain the contribution this
difference makes to society.
Each of these deserves extended discussion; this is just a
sketch.
Androgyny seemed to be a continuing obsession for Hay. In a 1950
prospectus for what became Mattachine, Hay repeatedly referred to
"Society's Androgynous Minority," and "We, the Androgynes of the
world." He exaggerated and romanticized intermediate gender roles
occasionally found in earlier societies, ignoring examples of
masculine warrior homosexuality in other cultures.
Today the idea that gays are androgynous seems based on
selective perception and merely a capitulation to a social
stereotype. Gay men work out to attract men who are attracted to
men. More sports figures are coming out. One 1938 photo of Hay
himself suggests a sullen James Dean masculinity. Nor has
psychological testing discovered any noticeable psychological
androgyny among gays that cannot also be found among educated
heterosexuals.
Second, whether gays and lesbians have any intrinsic, special
"gay consciousness" at all seems doubtful. Hay told biographer
Stuart Timmons, "We differ most from heterosexuals in how we
perceive the world. That ability to offer insights and solutions is
our contribution to humanity ... ."
It may be that under conditions of prejudice and discrimination,
gays can develop a heightened awareness of the arbitrariness of
social conventions that impact them differentially, and even learn
a heightened sensitivity to unconscious signals and nuances of
personal interaction. But whether those would develop in the
absence of prejudice and discrimination seems doubtful.
Alternatively gays may, like other minorities, learn to view the
world from the mainstream perspective as well as their own. If so,
that double vision - like looking at those 3-dimensional "Magic
Eye" pictures - may provide a kind of "depth perception." But if
so, that capacity would not be limited to gays, but be common to
any minority.
Finally, Hay's idea that being gay has to be "about" something,
that gays should account for their existence as a group, to answer
the question "What are homosexuals for?" feels odd. But steeped as
he was in Communist doctrine, Hay thought in terms of classes and
"peoples" and conceived of gay liberation as "bargaining ...
between Gays and straights as groups."
Most of us today probably realize that the purpose of our
individual life is whatever we want it to be and that we can insist
on respect as gay individuals whether or not being gay contributes
to our purpose. The idea that gays need to justify our existence as
gays falsely assumes that reproduction is itself a justification
the lack of which gays need to compensate for.
Hay may have been wrong about almost everything. But in the end
we do not insist that founders have the right answers, not even ask
the right questions. We can honor them as founders and leave it at
that.