E-Mail This Article to a Friend Same-sex banns in Boston? (continued)

MORE THAN the Zeitgeist has changed. The tenor of the debate has changed as well. The forces opposed to same-sex marriage had somehow managed to keep hysteria (of the this-will-be-the-downfall-of-Western-civilization variety) and overt homophobia (of the Fred Phelps–ish "God hates fags" variety) out of the mix during the February ConCon. That wasn’t the case on March 11. Newcomers like Fred Roback, a 45-year-old Watertown resident, who stood in the midst of a fiery crowd of gay-marriage opponents amassing down the hall from the House chamber last Thursday morning, came to Beacon Hill to protest. While Roback took in the scene in silence, fellow demonstrators swirled around him singing religious hymns, yelling, "Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!", and clutching large red crosses. A new ConCon attendee, Roback told me he felt compelled to get involved as the issue has gained attention. Same-sex marriages, he said, "will lead to destruction. This is the beginning of the downfall of our nation. That’s what we’re up against."

Hard as it may be to believe, Roback’s turned out to be a moderate voice among opponents. Indeed, the radical right and religious fundamentalists showed up in full force on March 11. Take Ruben Israel, a "street preacher" from Los Angeles who held court near the State House steps throughout the day. Israel wore a storyboard that read, in pink vertical letters, GAY, and, in white horizontal letters, GOD ABHORS YOU. He told me that he’d hopped a red-eye flight from LA to Boston the night before, arriving just after dawn. The national landscape — especially the speed at which same-sex marriages have been happening — stirred him and other "Bible believers" from Florida, Georgia, Indiana, Tennessee, and New York. (So did pleadings from Massachusetts pastors who, Israel said, "called us up and said, ‘We need your blunt message.’") In so many words, Israel admitted that he and other like-minded Christians fear losing control over an institution that they had long called their own. As he put it, "We have to stop this poison from spreading. [Gay] people may be getting married now. But it’s just a small trickle compared to what it could be like."

As Israel and I were talking, a man with a large sign that read HOMOSEXUALS ARE POSSESSED BY DEMONS walked up to a gay couple standing nearby. I had just interviewed the couple, Robert Vetrick and Ken Janson, of Provincetown, who have been in a committed relationship for 22 years. The man with the sign sneered at them and shouted in their direction, "Anal sex is wrong!" Vetrick, a fiftysomething English professor, didn’t even flinch. Nor did he hesitate to fire back at the man he called a "career homophobe," saying, "You don’t have a clue!"

This type of proud defiance dominated the pro-gay forces last week, a marked change from the doom-and-gloom predictions of a swift defeat that preceded the ConCon’s first meeting on February 11. This time, thousands of grassroots activists parked themselves outside the House chamber and sang patriotic songs like "God Bless America" and "My Country ’Tis of Thee" — some of them didn’t budge for 16 hours. The hopeful mood displayed on March 11 — hours before a single vote had been taken — is, in large part, thanks to national events that have helped cultivate a sense of inevitability among grassroots activists and legislators alike. In short, there’s an increasing feeling on Beacon Hill that gay marriage is going to happen. It’s no longer if, but when.

SO WHAT does this mean for March 29, when the ConCon reconvenes? Will the pro-gay-marriage momentum translate into enough votes to defeat the constitutional amendment? On paper, it doesn’t seem likely. In just a month, the number of legislators voting with pro-gay forces increased from 55 in February to 77 last week. But that’s still a far cry from the magic number of 101 needed to stop the amendment.

Over these next two weeks, gay-rights advocates intend to set their sights on legislators who privately shudder at the thought of amending the state constitution to bar same-sex couples from civil marriage but who can’t bring themselves to vote that way. According to Isaacson, a "fair number" of Massachusetts representatives and senators have actually felt "guilty" or "embarrassed" about the votes that they’ve cast against full equality for gay and lesbian couples. "I cannot tell you how many legislators have said to me, ‘Arline, I’m sorry I have to vote this way,’" she says, even as she notes that she isn’t about to specify the exact number. "Let’s just say I’m seeing a sharp increase in the number of legislators voting against us yet feeling badly about it."

Ironically, the sense of inevitability around gay marriage may ultimately hurt the pro-gay-marriage side. The feeling that gay marriage is sure to happen some day, regardless of what Massachusetts legislators do today — has made for some interesting rationalizations. Some legislators may believe they can vote for a constitutional amendment because of current political concerns — i.e., too much heat from constituents or concern about a challenger in the November elections — and then oppose it if it makes it on to the November 2006 ballot. (In order for a constitutional amendment to pass, it must be approved in two successive legislative ConCons and then be ratified by a majority of voters.) Other legislators figure that whatever they do, the next generation of lawmakers will overwhelmingly favor same-sex-marriage rights and fix any damage caused by an amendment. For the pro-gay side, the trick is to convince lawmakers that this vote cannot be rationalized away. Or, more bluntly, to worry about their legacy. Do they want to be on the winning side of history? Or do they want to be remembered the way that those who opposed civil-rights legislation for African-Americans are remembered today — as moral and intellectual cowards?

That’s far more relevant, Isaacson believes, than what’s happening nationally. And that’s because the Massachusetts debate differs from discussions in other parts of the country in one fundamental way: gay and lesbian couples in this state have a legal right to marry, whereas their counterparts in other states don’t. Beginning May 17, city and town clerks across the state will be able to issue marriage licenses to same-sex couples thanks to the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court’s November 18 ruling that the current ban on such marriages is unconstitutional.

So what’s going to happen when the ConCon reconvenes? Will the pro-gay-marriage forces prevail? Probably not. Especially since other wild cards, such as the probability of new amendments, suggest that March 29 won’t be the final skirmish in this battle. But sooner or later, given the momentous change under way, as the NGLTF’s Hyde concludes, "We will win. It’s just not so obvious when."

Kristen Lombardi can be reached at klombardi[a]phx.com