I REMEMBER THE MOMENT VERY WELL. It was a little more than a
year ago, but it seems like a lifetime now. I was headed out the
door of my Washington office, brief case in hand, bound for a
pleasant, relaxing weekend in New York with friends. My secretary
stopped me and said a reporter from The Advocate was on
the phone.
I had spoken to this reporter before. So, when I picked up the
phone and heard him say he needed to talk to me in person, I wasn't
surprised. We agreed to meet the following Monday when I returned
from New York. I hung up the phone and left the office, determined
to enjoy my rare weekend "off duty." But at that moment, I sensed
my life was about to change - irrevocably and fundamentally. Or was
it?
The conversation on Monday confirmed what I suspected. The
Advocate - in an article about DOMA, the Defense of Marriage
Act, intended to "out" me as a gay - but not openly so - Republican
Member of the House of Representatives. Armed with that knowledge,
I decided to beat them to the punch by making the announcement
myself.
What followed was a kaleidoscope of decisions, activities, and
conversations that most gays and lesbians handle over the course of
months - or years. In my case - my very public case - I only had
five short days. Between Monday and Friday I had to lay out a game
plan; inform my staff and colleagues in the House about my sexual
orientation and why I was acknowledging it; write a press statement
and letters to key supporters; and call to a seemingly endless list
of friends, supporters, and, yes, family. You see, I come from a
family?and I know many of you can relate to this?where we never
discussed such personal things as "feelings."
No "operation" as complex as this, of course, ever comes off
exactly as you plan it. Too many people had to be notified. The
press got wind and Thursday evening - twelve hours ahead of
schedule - the story broke on the late evening television news.
That broke the dam and by the next morning every media outlet in
the country had the story.
The phones rang, and they rang, and they rang - in Tucson and in
Washington. Incidentally, by the time the calls and faxes tapered
off and tallied the numbers, over 97 percent of everyone we heard
from expressed support in one way or another.
All of this - this astonishing, compressed chain of events -
occurred during the final week leading up to Congress' August
recess. While I was trying to manage this life-changing event -
politically and personally - Congress was considering, and voting
on, Welfare Reform and the final version of illegal immigration
legislation. All this, simultaneous with phone calls to my
86-year-old mother and to news outlets in Arizona. What a week!
Friday ended; Welfare Reform was on its way to the White House
for Presidential signature, and Jim Kolbe had taken his place as
the second openly gay Republican in the United States Congress.
Saturday morning I flew home to Arizona, went to the office and did
one-on-one interviews with each of the television news outlets in
my community. The questions by now were boringly repetitious and
predictable - but they had to be answered - patiently, honestly,
candidly. I remember saying at the end of the last interview, half
to myself and half to the assembled press: "That's it, folks.
You've got your story. Now I am going back to being the Congressman
I was before."
And I did. An hour later, I stood in front of an audience at the
University of Arizona praising the Udall Foundation for its
establishment of a Native American Intern Program. The next week, I
conducted my usual August series of town halls, listening to voters
praise or vilify Congress and me for what we had done - or not
done.
Was I slipping back into denial, a habit I formed early in adult
life and gradually shed as I came to terms with my own sexuality? I
believe the answer is emphatically "no." I was simply reasserting
myself as the Congressman from Arizona's Fifth District, the
acknowledged Republican leader for free trade and open markets, the
new advocate of Social Security Reform, the proponent of less
government, lower taxes and more individual responsibility. These
were the issues I had been advocating for twelve years in Congress
and six years before that in the Arizona Senate. Oh, yes, I
happened to be a gay person, too. But, being gay was not - and is
not today - my defining persona.
Which leads me to the substance of my remarks tonight. Are we -
Log Cabin members and friends - Republicans first, or are we gay
persons who happen to think our political views incidentally make
us Republicans, also?
If I focus on the need to liberalize trade, cut taxes, and
balance the budget, does that mean I cannot also be recognized as a
quiet voice of reason on issues of civil liberties and individual
rights for homosexuals in our society? Conversely, if I become a
"poster boy" and talk mostly about gay/lesbian issues, do I reduce
myself to irrelevance with my Republican brethren in the House and
cause Republicans?
To answer these questions, I ask you to think back to the
celebration we had this Spring, marking the 50th anniversary of
Jackie Robinson's debut in major league baseball, the breaking down
of the color barrier in America's national pastime. Can anyone here
tonight doubt how Jackie Robinson paved the way for a generation of
sports greats from the African-American community - from Jackie
Robinson and Mohammed Ali to Michael Jordan and Tiger Woods? It
wasn't because Jackie Robinson held frequent press conferences, or
made speeches, or participated in boycotts. It was because he
played baseball, and he played it well.
To his potential detractors, he left no room for doubt that he
had been hired by Branch Rickey to do anything except play the best
baseball the National League had to offer. Jackie Robinson
succeeded in breaking the color barrier in baseball because he
proved he was a great baseball player. He paved the way for
countless other minorities in professional sports, not because he
trumpeted his color but because he played baseball so well. That's
what Mohammed Ali did with his right jab and that is what Michael
does with his incredible slam-dunks and that is what Tiger Woods is
doing for golf with an awesome, cool performance at the Masters.
They hit baseballs, throw knock-out punches, shoot baskets
flawlessly, and hit golf balls with deadly precision. And they just
happen to be African Americans or people of color.
Do they deny their color with their acts of professionalism? Do
we deny that we are gay or lesbian by being gathered here tonight
as Log Cabin Republicans? Certainly not. And yet there are many in
the gay community for whom "gay Republican" is a contradiction in
terms.
I, for one, reject such narrow-minded thinking. Just as there
are Republicans and Democrats with different points of view,
African-Americans who disagree over affirmative action, veterans
who differ about a flag burning amendment to the Constitution and
Jews who passionately differ as to whether Israel should be
supported at any political price - so, too, will there be gays who
differ about DOMA and ENDA - and, yes, about immigration policies
and taxation of capital gains.
We are not monolithic. We are diverse? varied? individualistic.
It is this latter characteristic - our belief in individual liberty
- that brings us together tonight as Log Cabin Republicans -
Republicans who happen to be gay. This is a core value I dare say
we share with the vast majority of fair-minded Americans. There is
nothing intrinsically "gay" about it.
As I often remind my constituents in southern Arizona, our
nation was founded on the proposition, stated so eloquently in the
Declaration of Independence, "...that all men are created equal,
that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable
rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of
Happiness." For more than two hundred years now we, the people of
the United States of America, have struggled to realize the full
meaning of our creed: to create an opportunity society that
empowers all citizens to achieve the American
Dream. And make no mistake: it has been a
struggle.
I ask my constituents to consider the words of Abraham Lincoln,
whom I revere as our greatest President. A century and a half ago -
in 1855, when he was still a country lawyer - he dared to suggest
that the nation was failing to live up to its promise that "all men
are created equal." As Lincoln said,
We now practically read it "all men are created equal, except
Negroes." When the Know-Nothings get control, it will read "all men
are created equal, except Negroes and foreigners and Catholics."
When it comes to this, I shall prefer emigrating to some country
where they make no pretense of loving liberty - to Russia, for
instance, where despotism can be taken pure, and without the base
alloy of hypocrisy.
Doesn't it seem strange, I ask my constituents, to think that
Lincoln's words were considered radical at the time, and that such
thinking would help provoke a civil war?
I remind my friends and neighbors in southern Arizona that
personal liberty - the freedom to choose - is the cornerstone of
our American democracy. If each of us is to fully
enjoy the opportunities and blessings of liberty, then
all of us must accept responsibility for our own
actions, and for how our actions will affect the lives of
others.
As Friedrich August von Hayek, the great Austrian economist,
explained:
Liberty not only means that the individual has both the
opportunity and burden of choice; it also means that he must bear
the consequences of his actions.
I believe proprietary self-interest and concern for one's fellow
man are not mutually exclusive. Indeed, they go hand in hand, and I
believe that together they comprise the "content of our character"
by which Dr. Martin Luther King said each of us should be
judged.
The American ideal of limited government of the people, by the
people, and for the people is also a radical concept. Our founding
fathers dared to believe that government should derive its
authority from the consent of the governed, and not the other way
around. Thomas Jefferson elaborated on his conception of "good
government" when he took the oath of office as our nation's third
President in 1801. He said:
The sum of good government is to restrain men from injuring one
another and leave them otherwise free to regulate their own
pursuits of industry and improvement and shall not take from the
mouth of labor the bread it has earned.
James Madison, who succeed Jefferson as President, clearly saw
the dangers inherent in unlimited government. He warned that:
...there are more instances of the abridgment of the freedom of
the people by the gradual and silent encroachments of those in
power than by violent and sudden usurpations.
It is not that I and my fellow Republicans in Congress who seek
to change the status quo believe the Federal government is some
sort of malevolent agent, intentionally seeking to deprive us of
our liberty. Rather, we believe the power of the federal government
has grown far beyond anything our founding fathers could have
imagined. More important, it has grown so large it gets in the way
of citizens' ability to maximize their individual freedom and
opportunities. Jefferson and Madison understood intuitively that
government, in and of itself, cannot provide happiness. That is
something you must pursue for yourself. What our government can
ensure - and what your fellow American citizens ought to honor - is
your liberty, in law, to live out your American Dream.
Ronald Reagan said it very well more than a decade ago in a
speech he entitled, "A Time for Choosing." He said these words:
...for almost two centuries we have proved man's capacity for
self-government, but today we are told we must choose between a
left and a right or, as others suggest, a third alternative, a safe
middle ground. I suggest to you there is no left or right, only an
up or down. Up - to the maximum of individual freedom consistent
with law and order, or down to the ant heap of
totalitarianism...
With those words, Ronald Reagan expressed what should be the
credo of all Log Cabin Republicans - "individual freedom consistent
with law and order." Isn't that what we as Republicans believe in?
Surely, that expresses what we as Log Cabin
Republicans - concerned with government intrusion into our private
lives, devoted to maximizing individual liberties and
responsibilities - must believe.
I am both fascinated and amused with the convergence in views of
some Republicans on the right side of our Party with the views of
gay, liberal Democrats. Neither would even admit their common
philosophy, but it is there, nevertheless. The so-called
conservative Republican deplores big government, welfare programs,
erosion of personal liberties - and then votes for constitutional
amendments to ban flag burning, or to proscribe specific medical
procedures for a doctor performing an abortion, or to deny gays
their rights to fully participate in our society.
Liberal, gay Democrats, on the other hand, deplore the intrusion
of government into the bedroom or the doctors' examining room - and
then proceed to wax eloquent for programs that would nationalize
the entire health care delivery system, or compel poor people to
live in sub-standard housing operated by the liberal bureaucracy,
or decry programs to give education vouchers to lower income
parents so that they might send their children to schools of their
own choosing.
We might be excused for excessive hubris for thinking Log Cabin
Republicans are the only gays who really understand that individual
liberties are for everyone. Why is it, then, that as gay
Republicans we have allowed gay Democrats, largely committed to the
collectivist state, to speak for gay and lesbian rights? Why are
the ones committed to expanding government control over our lives
in housing and in education, the ones who would nibble at our
freedom through use and abuse of the tax code and regulatory system
- why - how - are they presumed to speak for gay rights? What
distortion of the definition of freedom and liberty has given them
unfiltered access to the megaphone, claiming to express the views
of all gays?
But, just as we must not abandon the battlefield of policy to
the illiberal left, so we must not allow the religious
fundamentalists to use "morality" as a cudgel against us. For many
gays, the process of coming out involves shedding the guilt and
shame associated with our sexuality. In that process, most of us
conclude - rightly, I believe - that we are not "immoral" just
because we are homosexual.
Unfortunately, many gays go a step further and reject any
association of behavior and morality. A rejection of the hypocrisy
of the rigid morality of the 1950s has led conservatives and
liberals alike to flee from public discourse about what is right or
wrong. And so, we have a society where divorce rates and
illegitimate births are soaring, where teenage violence and drug
use is rampant. We may invoke a moral position for ourselves, but
we adopt moral neutrality for everyone else. The result is a
backlash in society, for the simple fact is - people yearn for
moral guidance.
As columnist Dan Perreten recently pointed out, we must not lose
sight of the distinction between the words "moral" - principles of
right and wrong in behavior - and "moralizing." We are, Perreten
notes, so offended by the practitioners of the latter that we fail
to acknowledge the importance of the former. Just as we must
challenge liberal Democrats on policy issues where we know them to
be wrong, so must we engage in an honest, candid debate with
ourselves on moral issues that affect the gay and lesbian
community.
The fact is, we belong to the party that really talks about
concerns of the gay community. Ours is the party of Abraham
Lincoln, of Theodore Roosevelt, of Ronald Reagan. It is the party
of freedom, liberty, and individual responsibility. We are a
minority within the Republican party when we think of ourselves as
gays. But when we add all those Republicans, and other Americans
who won't be identified with a party - all those who do not want
government telling them what to do - then we are a majority. When
we understand this simple fact and act like majority Republicans,
we will win.
Call it "safe middle ground" if you like, but it represents the
historical mainstream of Republican thinking for 150 years.
Republicans will support, and elected officials will vote, "our
way" if the question is framed as one of "individual rights," not
of "lifestyle." Opposing discrimination on the basis of one's
sexual orientation is not a matter of defending a lifestyle; it is
protecting our rights as individual American citizens, just as
surely as all of us would oppose discrimination against Jews or
women or African-Americans because such discrimination is contrary
to the fundamental principles underlying our Constitution.
Discrimination should be an abomination to all Republicans - Log
Cabin Republicans and moral majority Republicans. But it is equally
right for Republicans to oppose special privileges for any group -
quotas or special legal protection.
Sometimes we must show special courage as gay Republicans,
standing up to the conventional wisdom in both the Republican party
and the gay community. But with a foot in both groups, true to the
principles we know to be right, we can gain the respect and
acceptance of gays and Republicans alike. When you argue the case
to your Congressman or state Assemblyman for school choice - when
you tell them this is an exercise of individual choice in education
- you show them a face of gay Republicans they may not have seen
before. When you talk to them about how lower taxes can expand jobs
and opportunities for Americans of all stripes, you speak a
language they understand but have not heard from the gay
community.
We gain acceptance and build our bridges, not by stressing that
we are gay people who are Republicans, but that we are Republicans
who happen to be gay or lesbian - that we are Republicans who care
about families and schools, who believe in a strong national
defense and laws that are tough on criminals, who worry about the
environment and want to balance the budget so the next generation
is not saddled with the fruits of our profligacy.
My constituents and my Republican colleagues in Congress respect
me and support me because they know I am fighting for open markets,
free trade and consumer choice, for a balanced budget, and for an
honest overhaul of our Social Security system. To them, these
issues are no less important, and I am no less qualified to make
the case for them, now than before my announcement. Free trade is
the engine of our economic prosperity and the ticket to future
competitiveness. Balancing the budget - a feat Republicans achieved
this year for the first time in 30 years - matters because it says
we care about our nation's stability. And thinking honestly about
transforming Social Security from a dead-end tax into a real
retirement savings plan says that we care about the future for the
next generation.
Log Cabin Republicans have already shown they can speak to the
broad concerns of all Republicans. Four years ago, in the New York
mayoral race, Log Cabin Republicans introduced an ad, the tag line
for which was: "Who says crime is not a gay issue?" That simple
message speaks volumes, both about ourselves as gay Republicans,
and to the large majority of Republicans who have the same worries
about crime and safety. "Who says crime is not a gay issue?" Of
course it is. It's everybody's issue. The sooner we speak to it -
and to similar issues - the sooner we speak to middle America, the
sooner we enter the mainstream of American politics.
In the 1996 Republican presidential sweepstakes, Log Cabin
Republicans demonstrated their moral courage and constancy, by
taking on the prospective Republican nominee when a Log Cabin
contribution was first accepted and then rejected. When Log Cabin
stood its ground, Senator Dole's campaign changed its attitude,
accepted the contribution, issued an apology, and conferred new
respect to this organization. When Log Cabin Republicans endorsed
Dole's Presidential bid, they demonstrated that they were an
important part of the team.
The cause for all gay persons, Republicans and Democrats alike,
will be advanced when we focus not on what sets us apart from our
fellow Americans but on what we share in common; when we
demonstrate our concern and our commitment, our expertise and our
execution, on issues that matter to main street America.
Bruce Bawer, in a recent column, talks about a revolution that
is taking place in America today - a revolution he says that is the
worst nightmare of a far-left gay activist. It is a revolution
brought about by people who work in corporations, worship in our
churches, speak through our news media and teach in our schools. It
is a revolution brought about by ordinary gay people who live their
lives in ordinary ways on every ordinary day.
By doing so, Bawer says, other ordinary Americans "have grown
from ignorance into knowledge, from lies into truth, from prejudice
into love." There are still two Americas, he notes, one in which
homosexuality is accepted as part of everyday life and another in
which gays continue to be demonized and discriminated against. But,
if we are ever to eliminate the division, it will be because of
those ordinary people living their ordinary lives. It will also be
because a few brave, extraordinary people, some of whom are
gathered here tonight, choose to reject the politics of exclusion
and group identity. You are here tonight because have chosen to
pursue the politics of inclusion and mainstream values.
Last December, just a few months after my announcement made big
news, I was privileged to speak at the dedication of a statue
commemorating the 150th anniversary of the peaceful arrival of The
Mormon Battalion in the Presidio of Tucson during the Mexican War.
I shared the dais that day with my friend and colleague from the
Arizona Congressional delegation, Matt Salmon, and Gordon Hinkley,
President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. More
than 7,000 people came from throughout Southern Arizona. Most were
Mormons, and maybe a third were directly descended from members of
the Mormon Battalion.
In my remarks, I noted that the men of the Mormon Battalion had
volunteered to serve their country in spite of the fact that the
federal government had done little to protect them from religious
persecution. These were men who, along with their families, had
been driven from their homes in the East by angry, intolerant
neighbors. In many cases their property had been stolen or
confiscated. Some of their brethren - including Joseph Smith,
founder of the faith - had even been murdered for their beliefs.
Despite all this, 500 Mormon men faithfully answered the call to
enlist and march 2,000 miles from Iowa to California. This arduous,
six-month trek remains the longest infantry march in U.S. Army
history. And they accomplished this remarkable feat without a shot
being fired in anger.
I noted that the statue honoring the Mormon Battalion was really
a monument to peace? and tolerance. This was a message this
audience could understand. At least three times they interrupted my
remarks with their applause. And in the months that have followed
my office has received more requests for that speech than for any
other I have ever given.
Last spring, in the wake of Susan Molinari's resignation
announcement, I joined a small group of my Republican House
colleagues to discuss the leadership races. Names were being tossed
around - moderates who might run for Conference Vice-Chairman or
Secretary. Finally, someone turned to me and said: "Well, Jim, why
don't you run? You've got the seniority, you're a moderate, and
you've shown your leadership on trade and other issues. You'd be a
good candidate!"
"Oh, sure," I replied. "I'm sure our Republican caucus is ready
to elect a pro-choice, gay person to the leadership."
"Oh, goodness," the first individual responded, "I had forgotten
about that!"
Well, good. Perhaps, from time to time, this individual - and
others - need to be gently reminded that I am gay, if only so that
they remember how secondary it is in my political and everyday
life.
Arizona Republic cartoonist Steve Benson got it right after my
coming out when he did a cartoon - two identical drawings of Jim
Kolbe, side by side. One was labeled: "Jim Kolbe, hard-working,
fiscally conservative, socially moderate Republican Congressman
from Arizona - before he announced he was gay." The second, same
caricature, had the same label, except "After he announced he was
gay." Looks like the same guy to me.