In the push for equality, as epitomized by the campaign for civil marriage for lesbian and gay people, I have been unequivocal in my support over the years. But lately, my flag-waving hand has begun to droop. Not because of the campaign itself, which is dynamic and effective. (See the brilliant YouTube ad here: http://url.ie/2gkg).

And it’s not because of my frustration with its progress. The Green Party and GLEN failed to realise how unpalatable enshrining the principle of inequality into legislation is to LGBT people, no matter how progressive the Civil Partnership Bill is, no matter how much easier it might make the lives of so many people. (Fianna Fáil of course doesn’t care about principles). Since its publication, I believe the Greens have received that message loud and clear, especially after the 5,000-strong march against it in its current form. (If you are legislating to benefit a particular group, surely the opinions of that group matter?)
I am hopeful that the argument for putting the issue of gay civil marriage to a referendum is gaining ground (if, of course, it is constitutionally required, which is uncertain) given that I believe the debate would be good for society.
I am phlegmatic about whether or not it would be passed, though. Maybe, maybe not. California passed Prop. 8 last year, which outlawed gay marriage. However, one of the criticisms of the failed opposition campaign there was that it didn’t focus on ordinary gay/lesbian people’s lives. That could never happen here. Ordinary people telling their stories on Liveline or on the Late Late is one of the main ways Irish social policy changes. Given a debate between a couple of pained, condescending Catholic moralists and a cheerful lesbian couple surrounded by their kids, I know who would win. Whatever about the shadow side to abortion and divorce, and there are valid arguments in opposition to both, the truth is, gay civil marriage harms no one. It is a symbol.
This is not to underestimate the power symbols have in Ireland. A referendum on gay civil marriage would flush out, for (hopefully) one last curtain call, those Catholic ideologues who dare to believe they know what’s best for other people. (A reminder of this corrupt mentality came on the radio other day, in a discussion commemorating the 30th anniversary of the Pope’s visit to Ireland. His Holiness, the panellist reminded us, was flanked by two “single fathers” - Bishop Éamon Casey and Fr Michael Cleary).
We in Ireland are well used to holding referenda on fraught issues of sexual morality. Each time, they result in a greater understanding of the complex issues raised, and a greater familiarity with the people directly affected by the issue. However painful it may be, it is a positive process in my book, one which few other countries have undergone.
In a referendum on civil marriage, given the legal requirement for debates to be even-handed, lesbian and gay people would be all over the media, in a way that hasn’t happened yet in our society. Invisibility has always been the enemy of gay rights. Perhaps that’s why Fianna Fáil are so opposed to a referendum.
My weariness in waving the rainbow flag is more to do with my desire to fast-forward to the stage after equality is finally enshrined in law. A healthy community engages in self-criticism and reflection, and adapts and changes accordingly. But if that community is discriminated against, by the law in particular, there is a tendency to keep such criticisms or reservations private, in order to not let the side down, to avoid handing the bigots any ammunition. It leads to a censorship of sorts, a defensiveness, and accusations of betrayal of one’s community if one raises thorny issues.
Feminists rightly say that full equality for women will have come to pass, not only when the women in power are just as numerous as the men, but when they are just as boorish, slovenly, and ignorant. Full equality for LGBT people will have come to pass when we have completely moved on from a sense of prickly victimhood and have gained in confidence enough to talk openly about how difficult our lives can be, how fucked up we can be, how lonely and insecure we can be - just like everyone else. The political necessity to present only our good side to the world comes at a price.
The longer I live, the more I realise that gay and heterosexual men are far, far more alike than is commonly supposed. In fact, when it comes to sex and relationships, which supposedly are the signifier of gay identity, I find that lesbians and gay men vastly differ in their approach and behaviour. Indeed, they are as different from each other as... the sexes.
One only has to survey an online chatroom for cruising guys. It is unimaginable that women would ever talk to each other in a similar way, in such vast numbers. Many women, indeed, would be shocked at the number of men online who freely admit they are married or partnered with women, who are looking for “no strings” sex with other guys. It doesn’t make them gay - it’s simply that they are men, trying to get as much sex as they can, without emotional attachment. It’s what a hell of a lot of men do. But in Ireland, it is hardly ever talked about. Irish men, generalizing hugely, lack the emotional literacy to discuss these matters. And, despite our supposed sensitivity, this counts for gay men too. And when we don’t talk about problems, they don’t go away, they tend to get worse.
Too often, in this country, I hear of a young gay male couple breaking up over a night of indiscretion, and it breaks my heart. (Simple reason: I know far, far too many single gay men in their forties). It’s as if the values of traditional heterosexual marriage have been adopted unthinkingly to apply to their relationship. No account has been made for the fact that they are male, that gay male culture is sexualised and commodified, and that sex is effortlessly accessible. They can, if they so choose, let go “mammy’s morals” and come up with their own rules, their own standards, their own mechanism for keeping trust and love alive, to make their relationship work. But for that to become commonplace, there has to be a level of mature discourse in our community about the drawbacks of being men who love men, an acceptance of the difficult realities, and not stay attached to a frequently unsuitable and often ultimately self-defeating ideal.
If and when marriage between men becomes an ordinary reality, then, and perhaps only then, will it become obvious how much work we have to do to make them work. I’m just weary waiting for “permission” from the government, before the conversation begins. We could start talking
now, lads.