The speech that put Chuck Robb ahead of history on gay marriage

The speech that put Chuck Robb ahead of history on gay marriage

Today the U.S. Supreme Court will hear oral arguments that will likely set the stage for a formal constitutional recognition of same-sex marriage. It represents one of the most extraordinary political evolutions in American history.

Just three years ago, only six U.S. states legally sanctioned such unions. Today the number is 37. Polls show that a solid majority of Americans support same-sex marriage, and Hillary Clinton is even notably pandering to gay voters.

It’s a far cry from two decades ago, when few politicians were willing to offer public support on the issue. One notable exception was an unlikely — and unsung — trailblazer for gay equality: former Virginia Sen. Chuck Robb.

That’s right, Chuck Robb.

During the 1996 Senate debate on the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), Robb gave one of the most eloquent and unexpected speeches by an American politician in support of not just same-sex marriage but gay civil rights. It was, Robb told me recently, “one of the most rewarding moments of my career in public service.” It was also an act of political courage that helped cost him his job.

In 1996, Robb, a moderate Democrat from a still-red state known for his work on defense and fiscal issues, was one of the lonely voices on an issue in which open prejudice against gays was still considered socially acceptable.

West Virginia Sen. Robert Byrd called homosexuality “aberrant behavior” and said it was “absurd” to suggest that gays should have the same right to marriage as heterosexuals. Georgia Rep. Bob Barr claimed “the very foundations of our society” were at risk unless Congress passed DOMA.

Even liberal stalwarts like Minnesota Sen. Paul Wellstone, Iowa Sen. Tom Harkin and Maryland Sen. Barbara Mikulski voted for DOMA — and President Bill Clinton signed the measure. Those who were opposed (only 14 in the Senate), like John Kerry and his fellow Massachusetts senator Ted Kennedy, as well as Wisconsin Sen. Russ Feingold and California Sen. Dianne Feinstein, anchored their opposition on legal or political grounds.

Robb, however, argued against DOMA on civil rights grounds. “I believe it is time for those of us who are not homosexual to join the fight,” he told his colleagues. Ending discrimination against gays and lesbians, said Robb in his 1996 speech, “is the last frontier in the ultimate fight for civil and human rights.”

“I tried to do it in a way that could … persuade people,” says Robb. “I wanted to do it in rational terms that used logic to make the case.”

In his floor speech, Robb noted that scientific evidence makes it clear that people do not “choose” to be gay, and since “we can’t change who we are and how God made us,” discrimination against gay Americans could not be justified on any grounds.

“If homosexuality is an inalienable characteristic,” said Robb in 1996, “then moral objections to gay marriages do not appear to differ significantly from moral objections to interracial marriages.”

But Robb also challenged the basic, unstated taboos that underpin opposition to gay equality. It was, he said, “human nature to be uncomfortable with feelings we don’t understand and … step away from those who are different.” But “the fact that our hearts don’t all speak in the same way is not cause or justification to discriminate.”

Nearly 20 years before the political currents would decisively shift, Robb told his Senate colleagues, “If we don’t stand here against this bill, we will stand on the wrong side of history.”

At the time, I was working in the U.S. Senate, and when Robb spoke, many of my co-workers — who usually ignored the floor speeches that droned on in our offices — stopped to huddle around our televisions. A colleague suggested Robb must have a staffer or family member who was gay.

Marine Capt. Chuck Robb in 1968 with a group of Vietnamese who were being questioned by a Marine interpreter during an operation in Danang. (Photo: Eddie Adams/AP)

In fact, Robb says he “had no personal connection to gay people.” Coincidentally, two of his daughters had gay college roommates, something he did not know at the time.

Rather, his views were rooted in his own upbringing in segregated Virginia and his service in the military.

When he was in high school in Virginia, Robb’s school bus would travel through impoverished communities. “There were young folks there who were black and weren’t picked up,” he tells me. He hadn’t been witness to such blatant discrimination before. “It grated on me.”

Robb had the same feeling a decade later when he was serving in the Naval Reserve as a judge advocate general (JAG). He came across two cases, both of majors with superlative records who’d been accused of being gay. “This had nothing to do with their conduct,” he says. It was “solely because of the accusation of homosexuality. They were clearly going to be subjected to scrutiny that would have ended their careers. It was so clearly discriminatory and unfair.”

Robb was also influenced by his former father-in-law, the 36th president of the United States, Lyndon Johnson. While Johnson is of course well known for his legacy on civil rights, Robb’s memories were more personal. Not long before Johnson died, Robb was with the former president on his ranch in Texas when word came of a bus accident in which a number of Hispanic children had been killed. Against the wishes of his doctors, LBJ insisted on attending the funeral in Austin. “These people need me now. They were there for me,” Robb recalls the former president saying. “That compassion, which wasn’t always as visible or believable, was so obvious and so visceral,” says Robb. “I never forgot it.”

Robb, then a senator, during the Pledge of Allegiance before an event for the International Committee for Human Rights in 1993. (Photo: Wally McNamee/Corbis)

While Robb would develop a reputation as a stolid, middle-of-the-road Democrat, those experiences turned him into something of a political iconoclast — and a social progressive. As Virginia governor, he appointed the first African-American and Hispanic to his Cabinet. In the Senate, he voted against the assault weapons ban and a constitutional amendment banning flag burning and opposed “don’t ask, don’t tell.”

But his position on gay marriage was the most controversial.

“I begged him not to do it,” says Tom Lehner, who was Robb’s chief of staff at the time. “I told him that as much as I agreed with him, this is going to cause really serious political consequences, and if you run for re-election, it could hurt you.”

Robb heard similar warnings from his Senate colleagues. They knew they were voting for an irresponsible bill, says Robb, but they also told him, “I’d never get re-elected if I vote against this.” Some, like Sen. Barbara Boxer, one of the few to oppose DOMA, urged him not to speak on the issue for fear that it would cost him his Senate seat.

Where it did benefit Robb politically was in making him a hero in the LGBT community.

The response was overwhelming, says Jay Fisette, a member of the Arlington (Va.) County Board and a longtime activist on LGBT issues in Virginia: “People fell over themselves to donate to his 2000 re-election campaign.” And Robb says that of all the things he did in government, he “had more positive feedback and more genuine feeling of appreciation” on this issue than on any other.

Robb and his wife, Lynda, and daughter Lucinda during his concession speech after being defeated by former Virginia Gov. George Allen for his Senate seat in 2000. (Photo: Douglas Graham/Roll Call/Getty)

While it helped him with fundraising, it was, says Fisette, a “net loss” for Robb politically. He was defeated for re-election in 2000, in part, says Lehner, because of claims from his opponent, former Virginia Gov. George Allen, that he was out of touch with the state’s values.

According to Evan Wolfson, founder and president of Freedom to Marry, who saw all too many Democratic supporters abandon the gay community on the DOMA issue, Robb was both a “shining example” on same-sex marriage and “arguably one of a handful of politicians who paid a price for doing this.” In the gay marriage fight, many politicians were far more likely to follow the currents of political opinion than try to change them.

Robb, however, blanched at the notion that his actions were a “profile in courage.”

“My belief is that most people will respect politicians if they speak from their gut and their heart,” he says. “If you show that you’re doing something for conviction and not as a matter of politics, well, I respect someone who does that.”

It’s a fine sentiment, but it’s one — with a few exceptions — that has rarely been tested in the 20-year struggle for gay marriage equality.

Michael A. Cohen is a fellow at the Century Foundation and a columnist for The Boston Globe.