Posted by
Robert Whitney on Friday, November 28, 2008 4:09:28 AM
Early this month, when it looked like same-sex marriage was on
the rocks in California, gay rights activists summed up their angst
about the upcoming Proposition 8 vote with four wistful words: What
would Harvey do?
Harvey was Harvey Milk, the late San
Francisco supervisor and subject of "Milk," the film that opened this
week about the pioneering gay politician assassinated along with Mayor
George Moscone 30 years ago Thursday.
There are
parallels between the gay rights battle of Milk's time and today.
Defeating a ballot measure - a ban on openly gay teachers in public
schools - was the apex of Milk's short career. And now, with passage of
California's ban on gay marriage, activists re-examining Milk's legacy
are questioning whether an outsized political leader could have made
the difference this time.
"Harvey Milk came from a
politics of real discomfort. There was a righteous rage that was
motivating him and the people he was working with," said Rafael
Mandelman, president of a local gay Democratic club renamed for Milk.
"Maybe the community got too comfortable."
Even in
Milk's day, California was the center of a national fight pitting gays
seeking expanded rights against conservatives espousing traditional
values. In both cases, proponents of the ballot measures warned that
schoolchildren would be taught a gay "agenda" if the initiatives
failed.
The gay community corralled support from
high-profile Democrats - President Jimmy Carter three decades ago and
presidential candidate Barack Obama this year - and Republicans alike.
In persuading Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger to come out against
Proposition 8, gay leaders reminded him that another
actor-turned-politician, Ronald Reagan, opposed the gay teacher ban in
1978.
Milk's contemporaries say the campaign against
the marriage ban lacked a fiery figurehead to challenge gays to demand
equality. When he was not debating state Sen. John Briggs, the Orange
County lawmaker who sponsored the gay teacher ban, Milk rallied
potential volunteers with a cry: "Come out, come out wherever you
are!"
The Election Night triumph Milk celebrated 20
days before his death "shows you that an ideal - well-organized and
well-articulated - can go a long, long way," said Tory Hartmann, a
Democratic activist in the 1970s. "It just takes one
person."
In contrast, some activists have criticized
the No on 8 campaign for being too reactive, failing to mobilize ethnic
and churchgoing Democratic voters, and keeping gay couples out of
advertisements.
David Mixner, who co-managed the
campaign against the teachers ban, said same-sex couples might still
have the right to wed in California if today's leaders had been less
polite.
"It wasn't that Harvey was universally loved
back then," Mixner said. "He was a hard-core player and at times he was
difficult to love, but ... damn, did I respect
him."
A new generation of activists is using the
film's release as a rallying point. The organizers of the nationwide
protests against Proposition 8's passage held this month are calling on
same-sex marriage supporters to fill movie theaters on Dec. 5 to show
their financial clout.
Along with "Milk," the story
of the boyish gay martyr who is regarded as the Martin Luther King Jr.
of the gay civil rights struggle has inspired documentaries, a Broadway
play and namesakes as varied as a New York City high school for gay
teenagers and a grove of trees in Israel.
Days before
the Nov. 27, 1978, assassinations, county Supervisor Dan White had
resigned from the board. He blamed Milk and Moscone when the mayor
refused to reappoint him. White, a former police officer, sneaked
through a window at City Hall to avoid a metal detector and shot both
men.
After a jury convicted White of manslaughter
instead of murder, thousands rioted in protest. White served about
three years in prison, was released, then committed
suicide.
To this day, it remains a matter of dispute
whether White targeted Milk because he was gay.
"This
had nothing to do with sexual orientation. It had to do with getting
back his position," said U.S. Sen. Dianne Feinstein, who was president
of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors in 1978 and replaced Moscone
as mayor. "Dan White was a troubled man under a lot of
pressure."
Feinstein found Milk's
body.
The memories are so raw that she is skipping
the chance to see herself portrayed in the movie. Feinstein also
declined to attend the dedication Tuesday of a job training center on
an old Treasure Island military base renamed in Milk's
honor.
House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, former Mayor
Willie Brown, U.S. Rep. Barbara Lee and others unveiled a bronze
sculpture of Milk outside the building, which is believed to be the
first federal structure named for an openly gay
person.