April 12, 2012
A couple of weeks ago, I was in the library hiding from work, zigzagging across the Internet like campus on a Friday night. I went to Facebook, that den of procrastinator’s desires, and played a video that my friend had shared of Cory Booker passionately advocating for marriage equality (search Cory Booker marriage equality on YouTube). While I mostly agreed with the spirit of what Booker said, the self-serving hero complex through which he made his argument repulsed me. He framed the debate as a morally clear battle in which he, in shining armor, would fight the unnamed foes of decency and civil rights for all. But the push for marriage equality is not like the Civil Rights movement of old. In arguing this way, Booker simultaneously discourages rational discussion and casts himself as a hero in a battle of his own making. Yet he is hardly the first to do so, and unfortunately won’t be the last.
Right off the bat, Booker declares with righteous fury: “Dear God, we should not be putting civil rights issues to a popular vote subject to the sentiments and the passions of the day. No minority should have their rights subject to the passions and sentiments of the majority.” Though I agree, the rhetorical meaning of a civil right is a bit different from its actual meaning.
Literally, civil rights are an individual’s rights in society “which can be upheld by appeal to the law” (Oxford English Dictionary). It isn’t a right that should exist in an ideal society or that corrects an injustice; it is a right that people are entitled to because the law has granted it. For example, supporters of the American Civil Rights Movement legitimately fought for basic rights that blacks were wrongly denied: like freedom of assembly, due process and access to equal public services (including education). The moral fight against injustice fueled the movement, but the legitimate claim to wrongly denied rights was what won the day.
Booker calls same-sex marriage a civil right in the sense that he thinks its denial is an injustice, not that the right to it actually exists. This is a misuse of the term that taps into the righteous thunder of the Civil Rights Movement without respecting its accomplishment: the legislative restoration of unjustly withheld rights to blacks. There simply is no legal lineage to justify calling same-sex marriage an established civil right.
I say this in spite of Chief Justice Warren’s statement that “marriage is one of the basic civil rights of man” in the 1967 Loving v. Virginia decision. Marriage, socially and legally, was understood to be between a man and a woman at the time (legally, it still is). The case affirmed the right of heterosexual marriage for all, in this case between different races. As the definition of marriage changes, Warren’s statement becomes irrelevant, for no one could honestly claim that he endorsed any idea of marriage except man-woman.
Later, Booker claims that homosexuals are second-class citizens in America. But, I ask, how? Are there homosexual-only water fountains and bathrooms? Are there homosexual-only theatres and schools? In what realm of life are homosexuals legally designated and persecuted, as blacks were for so long? The answer, most would say, is in the sphere of marriage. But heterosexual marriage is not limited to heterosexuals just as homosexual marriage is not denied solely to homosexuals; a homosexual man can marry a homosexual woman, and a heterosexual man cannot marry another heterosexual man.
At this point, critics will say I hopelessly miss the point, but hear me out. The point is that homosexuals are not legally discriminated against as a class. Just because a homosexual man cannot marry the love of his life does not mean that he is a second-class citizen. To use a familiar example, who would argue that Mitchell from “Modern Family” is a second-class citizen because he can’t marry his boyfriend Cam? Their lives on the sitcom are so exceedingly safe and normal as to make the viewer forget they aren’t married, which is part of the point. Blacks were truly subjugated under Jim Crow laws; unjust laws prevented them from living anywhere near as well or freely as a wealthy, white homosexual today.
The final straw for me was his empty promise to “support equal citizenship for all people of this country.” Does anyone recognize this self-serving rhetoric for what it is? Homosexuals are full American citizens and firmly woven into our national fabric; Cory Booker shouldn’t be telling them that they aren’t.
I should make a couple points clear: In talking about the segregated South, I don’t mean to establish a litmus test that all future civil rights abuses must meet. Abuses that don’t equal the severity of Jim Crow still occur and must be addressed. Secondly, I’ve dealt purely with the legal conception of second-class citizenry here, simply because the social conception is not nearly as easy to objectively pinpoint. Racism, homophobia and the like are truly nasty parts of our lives, and always will be until we learn at a personal level to be excellent to each other, in the words of Bill and Ted.
As smart, articulate students who will one day influence politicians or become them, we shouldn’t tolerate this pandering. Let us demand more honesty from our politicians, for battles against straw men serve no one. If you believe that committed homosexual couples should receive the same legal benefits as a married couple, as I do, then defend that idea on its own merit. If you believe that their union should be called marriage, which I don’t, then defend that idea on its own merit. Engage the other side; don’t demonize it. And let us stop buying into the divisive, misleading and empty rhetoric of politicians or pundits hungry for a legacy as a civil rights hero.