IGF CultureWatch

"Campaign Spot" blogger Jim Geraghty writes in "For Better or Worse, the NRA Grades Candidates on Only One Issue" that some conservatives are miffed that the National Rifle Association looks likely to endorse the re-election of Sen. Harry Reid (D-Nev.), the senate majority leader and co-instigator of the Obama-Pelosi-Reid mega-government agenda.

As commenters to IGF has pointed out, the NRA is a nonpartisan organization focused on one issue-second amendment rights-and it supports conservatives or liberals who concur with it, which is one reason it's been so successful.

There really is no gay rights group that's comparable. The big Washington LGBT lobbies-even the ones whose bylaws claim that they're nonpartisan (and who once-upon-a-time truly were)-now overwhelmingly define themselves as part of the "progressive" coalition. These groups haven't been shy about treating non-gay issues as part of formal or informal litmus tests for candidate approval (this has been true not just of the Human Rights Campaign but even groups such as the Victory Fund, which maintains a pro-abortion requirement that trips up openly gay, pro-life Republicans who might have benefited from its support).

The clearly partisan gay groups (Stonewall Democrats, Log Cabin Republicans, GOProud) have their own role, which is different. But it would be constructive to have even one major LGBT group that would endorse and fund liberals or conservatives, Democrats or Republicans, based just on whether they supported legal equality for gay people. You might even begin to see more conservative Republicans break away from their party's anti-gay party line, just as Harry Reid and several liberal Democrats have broken from their party's anti-gun rights stance.

John Aravosis has a nice timeline of the stonewalling -- an apt term here in multiple ways -- from the heavily Democratic Congress on the Employment Non-Discrimination Act. First, there was going to be a vote in the House last fall. Then there was going to be a vote in January or February. Then there would be a vote in April. Now there will be a vote sometime before January. Maybe. Nobody's even talking about the Senate. Let's just say that time is not on ENDA's side. If it does not pass this year, it is unlikely to pass before 2013.

Recall that in 2007 the House voted in favor of ENDA but the Senate never scheduled a vote because, among other things, Democrats told us the mean Republican president would veto it. So there was no point in passing it. Now with stronger Democratic majorities in the House and in the Senate, and with a Democratic president in the White House, we still aren't even getting a vote on the bill.

But something besides the usual political timidity is involved here, as the Washington Post reports. Gay-rights advocates are once again insisting, this time with the support of every gay group and the openly gay House members, on including protection for transgendered workers in the bill. After a furor over expanding ENDA, such protection was deleted from the House version last time to guarantee passage.

Almost nobody wants to talk about it now, but the renewed insistence on including "gender identity" is killing any prospects the bill might have. Says the Post:

The legislation is unnerving moderate and conservative Democrats who face brutal reelection battles this fall, and its prospects of passing the Senate are somewhere between slim and none. . . .

[Rep. Barney] Frank has lost at least a few supporters this time around. Rep. John Campbell (R-Calif.), for one, feels that "if the transgender language is included, that's just too far," according to his spokesman.

Frank says he understands why moderate Republicans and politically vulnerable Democrats have "some uneasiness" about the issue. He has addressed two of the bigger concerns: workplace bathroom use and the appearance of transgender employees. . . .

None of these efforts seem to be swaying Blue Dogs [Democrats who are moderate and conservative, especially on fiscal issues].

[Rep. Heath] Shuler (D-NC), who serves as chief whip for the Blue Dog Coalition, said moderates have "walked the plank a lot around here on things that never go anywhere in the Senate" and that asking them to vote on a transgender bill in this year's political climate would be "a mistake." Asked whether he thought the bill would ever reach the floor, he said, "I can't imagine that it would."

We can protect gay employees from private employment discrimination now, this year, 2010. Or we can insist on also protecting transgender employees, who already have some protection under other federal law, and wait indefinitely for any protection. We cannot both insist on transgender-inclusion and get a bill passed for the foreseeable future. Maybe that's a price gay-rights leaders are willing to pay, but we should at least be honest about the cost.

ENDA was one of the two things (the other was the symbolic hate crimes law) that even skeptics like me believed Democrats would achieve. Now half of even that modest expectation is slipping away.

There is A Homosexual in America. And He's a problem:

Beset by inner conflicts, the homosexual is unsure of his position in society, ambivalent about his attitudes and identity-but he gains a certain amount of security through the fact that society is equally ambivalent about him. A vast majority of people retain a deep loathing toward him, but there is a growing mixture of tolerance, empathy or apathy. Society is torn between condemnation and compassion, fear and curiosity, between attempts to turn the problem into a joke and the knowledge that it is anything but funny, between the deviate's plea to be treated just like everybody else and the knowledge that he simply is not like everybody else.

This is from Time magazine's issue of January 21, 1966. I can't even begin to unpack how far we have all come from these pre-Stonewall days, but Hendrik Hertzberg does a fine job in the New Yorker.

The only thing I'd add is to ask you to think about that bizarre third person singular. "The homosexual is unsure of his position in society. . . " "Society is torn between condemnation and deep loathing toward him. . . " This lumps us all into some undifferentiated whole, then puts us behind a grammatical wall from the author and the society he takes for granted.

And before you offer up a prayer of thanks that those days are gone, check out Matthew Rettenmund's analysis of Admiral Mullen's view of DADT at Towleroad. The Admiral says he wants to "give the president my best advice, should this law change, on the impact on our people and their families at these very challenging times."

Matthew hits him with a sound blow that knocks the Admiral right back to 1966:

Pitting LGBT soliders against "our people and their families" begs the question: What about our people and their families, Admiral?

That is exactly the right question, and the Admiral ought to answer it -- even if only for himself. Why doesn't he view us as part of "his" people and "their" families?

While we're waiting, check out the Time article -- if for no other reason than to find out that we seem to have lost the "cuff-linky" bars our ancestors used to enjoy.

I'm usually skeptical of initial reports about incidents that have political consequences, since there is so much room for misunderstanding, misinterpretation and other mischief. I approached the first stories about Saturday night's police raid of a gay bar in Fort Worth, Texas with that wariness. Seriously? A raid on a gay bar on the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall riots?

The first stories I read described some pretty drunk patrons, and I assumed some partying had gotten out of hand. But that sort of thing is hardly uncommon in bars, and it's not often the police show up. Box Turtle Bulletin is covering this story extremely well, and the only statement I could see about why the police came to the Rainbow Lounge is that the police said they had "anonymous tips" possibly from "disgruntled ex-bartenders." The first excuse is pretty thin, but might be true -- however implausible, or indefensible if such anonymous tips are not also relied on to conduct similar raids on heterosexual bars. The second, though, borders on lying malpractice. The bar had only been open for a week. Is that really the best they could come up with? I'm not that familiar with the ways of Texas, but can they really get fired and disgruntled that fast there?

But the big news here, judging from the statement by Joel Burns, a Forth Worth city councilman, is that there may even be some political accountability for any officials who got out of line:

I want all citizens of Texas and Fort Worth to know and be assured that the laws and ordinances of our great State and City will be applied fairly, equally and without malice or selective enforcement. I consider this to be part of "The Fort Worth Way" here. As an elected representative of the city of Fort Worth, I am calling for an immediate and thorough investigation of the actions of the City of Fort Worth Police and Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission in relation to the incident at the Rainbow Lounge earlier this morning, June 28, 2009.

It is unfortunate that this incident occurred in Fort Worth and even more so to have occurred on the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall protests. Unlike 40 years ago, though, the people of this community have elective representation that will make sure our government is accountable and that the rights of all of its citizens are protected. I are working together with our Mayor, Police Chief, the City of Fort Worth Human Relations Commission, and our State Legislative colleagues to get a complete and accurate accounting of what occurred.

Rest assured that neither the people of Fort Worth, nor the city government of Fort Worth, will tolerate discrimination against any of its citizens. And know that the GLBT Community is an integral part of the economic and cultural life of Fort Worth.

Every Fort Worth citizen deserves to have questions around this incident answered and I am working aggressively toward that end.

This is something -- a politician making a statement recognizing the role of lesbians and gay men in the community -- that could not have happened t in 1969, even in New York. And its simple fairness (even if Mr. Burns is in the minority in his sentiments) cannot be impugned. It is entirely fair and proper to have the police explain, in public, their side of the story. And I can't wait to hear what they have to say.

Frank Rich's Sunday essay in the NY Times is about gay rights and Stonewall, and it goes without saying it's worth reading.

A couple of sentences struck me:

After the gay liberation movement was born at Stonewall, this strand of history advanced haltingly until the 1980s. It took AIDS and the new wave of gay activism it engendered to fully awaken many, including me, to the gay people all around them.

This is true, but goes deeper than I think Rich realizes. He was, after all, a theater critic for Time magazine during the 70s, after which he took up the same role for the New York Times.

It's worth thinking about that for a bit. A man writing about the theater in America in the 1970s and 80s could not possibly have been a stranger to gay people. So what, exactly, did the new wave of gay activism enlighten him to?

Simply asking that question implicates the unique role - or non-role - that lesbians and gay men played in the minds of Americans prior to Stonewall. And it shows why Stonewall - and the earlier Black Cat riots in L.A., and other uprisings of the time - were not only necessary but inevitable. We were, in fact, there, all along, but existed in a parallel universe of indeterminacy; somehow not quite real -- or, at least, not the same sort of beings as everyone else.

The events at Stonewall and the Black Cat bar occurred roughly simultaneously on opposite ends of the country, and apparently had no direct connection to one another. Each was a reaction to its own form of local police harassment, the kind of thing we'd gotten used to over the years. But their similarities can't be ignored. Without anyone making any conscious decision, the injustice and the isolation -- the lack of any formal role in the society -- boiled over. Stonewall and Black Cat were fundamental assertions of our existence. It would take another quarter of a century for us to find the articulation those protesters could have used: We're here, we're queer, get used to it.

But they didn't need slogans to make their point. They showed up, and in those days that was plenty. Some of their stories are now available at a place few of them could ever have imagined: AARP has a section devoted to Stonewall.

Tomorrow will be an important anniversary, both to look back and to look forward. But Frank Rich inadvertently reminds us that we should think a bit about the trip from there to here - the journey from citizenship without rights to, well, whatever we can obtain through the grace of the political branches.

Every year toward the end of June, gay pride time, we are treated to another round of reminiscences about the good old radical days of gay liberation, laced with resentment about how we've now betrayed some founding principles. Reading these essays is like walking into a home full of bean-bag chairs and shag carpeting. It's memorable in its way, but you don't want to live there.

In this 40th year after the riot at the Stonewall Inn, the most prominent of these nostalgists is long-time activist Peter Tatchell in Britain, who wites in The Guardian about his experiences in the Gay Liberation Front (GLF):

Our vision was a new sexual democracy, without homophobia and misogyny. Erotic shame and guilt would be banished, together with socially enforced monogamy and male and female gender roles. There would be sexual freedom and human rights for everyone - queer and straight. Our message was "innovate, don't assimilate".

GLF never called for equality. The demand was liberation. We wanted to change society, not conform to it. . . .

In the 40 years since Stonewall and GLF, there has been a massive retreat from that radical vision. Most LGBT ­people no longer question the values, laws and institutions of society. They are content to settle for equal rights within the status quo. On the age of consent, the LGBT movement accepted equality at 16, ignoring the criminalisation of younger gay and straight people. Don't the under-16s have sexual human rights too? Equality has not helped them. All they got was equal injustice.

Whereas GLF saw marriage and the family as a patriarchal prison for women, gay people and children, today the LGBT movement uncritically champions same-sex marriage and families. It has embraced traditional hetero­sexual aspirations lock stock and barrel. How ironic. While straight couples are deserting marriage, same-sexers are rushing to embrace it: witness the current legal fight in California for the right to marry. Are queers the new conservatives, the 21st-century suburbanites?

There's hardly ever been a more succinct statement of the way the gay civil rights movement has changed -- I would say matured -- over the past 40 years. Stripped of the pejoratives, Tatchell's essay accurately describes the main differences. Witness the struggle to serve in the military, to join the Boy Scouts, and most of all, to marry. This is a way of saying, Yes, many of us do accept the fundamental values, laws, and institutions of our society. Equality of rights and obligations within those institutions is ennobling, not mindless. We doubt that all innovation is good. We're not trying to abolish "gender" or monogamy. There is an appropriate age threshold for sexual consent. We think "assimilation" is just a patronizing way to describe living our lives without conforming to your romantic notions of queerness. Sexual freedom? Anybody with an apartment key has that.

And yes, we want marriage. Marriage is not a "patriarchal prison" for our partners and children. It is freedom from a queer prison of perpetual grievance and mythologized otherness. It is getting off the tiger's back of adolescence and accepting responsibilities for families and communities.

Tatchell and his generation of radical liberationists deserve our eternal gratitude for their courage and their success. Tatchell himself has been fearless in his pursuit of, whether he would say so or not, equality for gays and lesbians. The liberationists who gave us Stonewall hastened us down a path (already begun long before them) that has brought us to the edge of unprecedented respect and acceptance.

But they do not deserve our uncritical acceptance of their values or goals. We are their children but we've grown up and moved out of the house. They do not own the movement, they do not censor its messages or license its membership, and they are not gatekeepers of its future.