The Dictionary of Homophobia (126 page)

But just what is this homophobic rhetoric? Truth be told, it is difficult to encapsulate. It is not a stable lexical corpus spoken by an identifiable social group, such a Christian, Marxist, or psychoanalytical rhetoric, each with its own official doctrine, references, and known advocates. Homophobic rhetoric is more akin to a grouping of scattered snippets, phrases, and heterogeneous formulae used in different manners and milieus, by everyone in general and no one in particular, and sometimes even by people who are not homophobic or do not consider themselves to be, but are simply thoughtless. In short, this discourse is both omnipresent and evanescent, but it can at least be objectified and brought back to the everyday sources from which it draws its arguments.

The Sources of Homophobic Rhetoric
Sources of homophobic rhetoric, to use the vocabulary of rhetorical analysis, are more or less reserves where those employing it can find the necessary “evidence” to prop up their ideas.

Pseudo-theoretical sources are the “intelligent” armor of homophobic discourse. Their relative importance in the argumentative device has continuously increased over the last few years in order both to euphemize and reinforce the most conservative points of view. Used in this way, they give arguments the appearance of neutrality so they can be perceived as objective, scientific, and consequently, truthful. Thus, even the most violent, partisan positions may be successfully understood as expert arguments. However, the sciences and disciplines that are most frequently referred to by homophobes have changed. Formerly, homophobic rhetoric was based mostly on theological, moral, or medical sources, such as
sin, debauchery
, nature/
against nature
, illness, and defect. However, today, the themes most commonly invoked are
psychoanalytical, sociological
, and
anthropological
, such as narcissism,
perversion, otherness, symbolic order
, and
gender differences
. As a sign of the times, when Catholic authorities periodically wish to issue a new condemnation of homosexuality, they judiciously avoid the violent images used frequently in the past, such as
Sodom and Gomorrah
consumed by fire; now they resort to concepts belonging to psychoanalysis, whose arguments they once judged as too permissive and obscene.

However, homophobic rhetoric also borrows from less sophisticated discourse: the “common” sources, which stem more from general opinion than official science.

Without question, the most obvious source is
heterosexism
. It is, more or less, the profound belief in a heterosexual teleology of desire, which finalizes,
a priori,
the individual: save for an accident or malignant influence, all children are and will be heterosexual, man is made for woman, and especially, woman is made for man. These implicit certainties are founded on a sort of popular anthropology that links
theology, biology
, and psychoanalysis: it is the image of an improbable heterosexual fantasy, a genuine heterosexism that implicitly excludes all homosexual desire. At best, homosexuality is only a phase, a passage before giving in to complete heterosexuality; at worst, it is a “fatal accident” along the way. Homophobia is the inevitable result, which in this regard is the fear that homosexuality endangers the heterosexual finality of desire, at all levels: the rampant scourge that threatens the individual, the couple, the
family
, the nation, and even the human race, which, as a result of
sterility
brought on by the homosexual
contagion
, could well disappear from the face of the Earth. In this, more than merely marginal, homosexuals are perceived as traitors, because they are opposed to the group, and as such they represent a universal threat.

This rhetoric is often based on a fundamental misogyny with which it is closely linked. From this perspective, since there is nothing worse for a man than to resemble a woman, the image of the male homosexual is obviously one of effeminacy, and thus subject to scorn and jeers. Conversely, if a lesbian seems more masculine, it is considered an arrogant and scandalous sham, since she refuses to remain in the place assigned to her by society. And yet, the stereotypes of homophobic rhetoric are singularly reversible and malleable. If the homosexual male is criticized for not being virile enough, he will eventually be criticized for being too virile, and his taste for
sports
, such as bodybuilding, is regarded as manifestly artificial and inauthentic. Whereas the lesbian, if she is feminine, she is too feminine to be real; her charms are pernicious and diabolical. Man must be virile, but not too much or too little, and woman must be feminine, yet not too much or too little. However, if gay men and women confine themselves to the middle ground of virility or femininity, it is even worse: they are suspected of wanting to blend into the masses in order to better trick the rest of society. On some levels, heterosexist opinion in fact prefers the “queen,” who is more recognizable and thus more reassuring. In short, nothing will ever be satisfactory.

Homophobic rhetoric is often based on xenophobic arguments as well: historically in
France
it was known as the “Italian
vice
” in the sixteenth century, the “English vice” in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and the “German vice” in the early twentieth century. In this manner, homosexuality was always a foreign intrusion, belonging to the “other,” but not just any: it tended to be the nation’s foremost rival, depending on the era. Such arguments were thus a vehicle by which a nation could vent its hostility and hatred; a form of symbolic compensation that reduces an otherwise threatening power to the level of sexual perversity. But is this convergence of homophobic and xenophobic arguments a thing of the past? It is doubtful. In
Africa
, homosexuality is often presented as a white man’s vice, an opinion that also became apparent in the (lack of) early responses to
AIDS
in Africa, where it was thought to be a homosexual issue, and therefore, a white issue. Specifically, the hatred of whites and the scorn for homosexuals mutually reinforced one another. Similarly, in contemporary France, while homosexuality itself is not considered an “American vice,” the gay and lesbian lifestyle, linked to Anglo-Saxon
communitarianism
, is perceived as a terrible American influence that endangers France and its Republican model. Conversely, on the other side of the Atlantic, gay and lesbian studies are often criticized for being overly French-centric, too influenced by the words of thinkers such as Foucault, Derrida, or Cixous, the objective being to disqualify their intellectual legitimacy. Finally, homophobic rhetoric is sometimes in harmony with hatred according to class: for the nineteenth-century proletariat, homosexuality was a “bourgeois vice”; for the bourgeois, it was a symptom of the “always immoral” working classes, or the “obviously
decadent
” aristocracy. Today, these watered-down social representations are finding a resurgence of sorts, for example, in the discourse of certain suburban youths who see in gay and lesbian culture a type of bourgeois luxury that is typical of the well-to-do; it is also a form of shameful social distinction, as depicted by numerous well-known reggae artists for whom homophobic discourse is a recurring strategy that allowed them to reaffirm their own masculinity as “natural.” Similarly, in the 1980s, the rise of AIDS reactivated old arguments of hatred and fear directed at gays, this “high-risk” population having been justly punished. “AIDS cures fags” became a familiar slogan of the religious right in the United States (of course, in this instance, “cures” means “kills”). Throughout the world, there have been many who advocated compulsory testing and tattooing of homosexuals, as well as “AIDS-atoriums” and quarantine. Under these conditions, AIDS has provided an opportunity for homophobes to justify and reinforce the argument of exclusion of homosexuals. In another way, the debates on the
PaCS
civil union agreement in France also gave rise to arguments of social hatred, putting into question the alleged financial affluence of homosexuals, as well as their outrageous fiscal demands that would be, of course, to the detriment of the French taxpayer: “Are we going to pay for the fags?” became an often-heard slogan. However, in the US, these arguments are not diminishing: just like Jews, homosexuals are often represented as an over powerful minority that dominates Hollywood (“the gay Mafia”), the
media
, the economy, and
politics
. In this view, demands by homosexuals for equal rights (by striking down anti-sodomy laws, for example, or recognizing same-sex
marriages
) are construed as exorbitant privileges that must be denied, as their hegemonic power is already too well established.

The Strategies of Homophobic Rhetoric
All of these kinds of rhetoric constitute the basis of the homophobic argument, but they must still be structured according to various strategies that are, themselves, rhetorical traps.

First of all, the strategies of definition. In this discourse, homosexuality is often defined in an authoritarian, albeit subtle, way: etymologically, it is said to be the love of the same, narcissism, self-centeredness. It is thus a refusal of, among other things,
otherness
, closure, the
ghetto
. Once put into play, this strategy allows one to roll out all the desired consequences from a simple definition, locking homosexuals in their presumed essence. Once it has been set down, whether explicitly or implicitly, the definition can become a dangerous weapon, a moral absolutism, a principle of both vision and division of the social world. Cleverly, this definition is surreptitiously linked to other completely different and heterogeneous realities; homosexuality thus becomes synonymous with such disparate subjects as pederasty,
pedophilia, perversion
, debauchery, drugs, AIDS, and sterility.

Next, the simple injunction. With regard to the strategies of definition, it does not define what homosexuality is, but what it should be. It is the injunction of virility, femininity, discretion, chasteness, the sublimation of sexual desire; as such, the homophobic argument is a normative argument. Internalized since childhood, the rules it decrees have a power of considerable mental coercion. More subtle, but no less efficient, is the double injunction. This rhetorical strategy consists in successively uttering contradictory injunctions according to the necessity of the time. Thus, the injunction of normalcy was for a long time the privileged motive of homophobic discourse. But when, by chance, homosexual activists began working for the legal recognition of gay and lesbian couples, this demand was criticized because it was believed to endanger the social norm. Thus, those who had themselves exhorted homosexuals to act “normally,” now criticized their willingness to be socially integrated, and urged them to become even more subversive. The debate on gay
parenting
reveals similar results: homosexuals are often accused of being “selfish” by refusing to participate in the reproduction of the species; but when gay men and lesbians demand the right to artificial insemination and/or to
adopt
, these too are deemed as “selfish.” In short, whether they wanted children or not, homosexuals are selfish; whether they complied to injunctions or not, they are always at fault. If they live their lives openly, they are asked to be discreet, but if they are discreet, it is because there is something shameful, unnameable going on. One way or another, the dialectics of the debate are locked.

Another strategy: guilt. In fact, homophobic discourse can, for the most part, count on the rhetorical effects of
shame
that it engenders and maintains: through their fear of being stigmatized, many gays and lesbians are willing to endure the most violent insults without saying a word. And even when they believe they have rid themselves of this feeling of shame, it subsists nonetheless in a mitigated form that renders them particularly susceptible to an uneasy conscience, self-censorship, and the argument of the perverse, so characteristic of reactionary discourse. As a result, they renounce certain fundamental freedoms, so that they will not embarrass, shock, or jeopardize this moral or symbolic order that is so easily used against them. They will also accept the most extravagant reversals: excluded from groups, and as victims of intolerance, they will allow themselves to be accused of intolerance and exclusion; forced into secrecy, they will accept the criticism of duplicity; fighting against homophobia, they will be accused of fanning the flames. The tactical advantage of these rhetorical strategies is only too evident as they force these people to exclude themselves from the field of legitimate demands and discourse.

The final strategy of homophobic rhetoric consists of denying oneself as such. This denial, better known in its most vulgar form, “I’m not homophobic, but …” has many levels of expression. The most radical is revisionism, such as those who have long denied the historical fact of the
deportation
of gays and lesbians, and who, logically, deny the homophobic character of this denial. Less extreme, yet more common, is belittling. Those who engage in it do not ignore homophobic practices, but they relativize them in a friendly and happy manner: they argue that bullying in the school-yard is only children at play; that
discrimination
exists but there are so many more important problems. In this logic, a form of optimism, or ignorance, leads some people—sometimes in good faith—to become apostles of demobilization by advancing dubious affirmations: according to them, homophobia is something that happens in distant, backward countries, or is a thing of the past. If it does exists, it can only be residual and it will soon be erased by inevitable moral progress, which is continuous and irreversible; as a result, the incessant demands of gay and lesbian activists are inappropriate, even unpleasant.

Confronted by the demands of gays and lesbians, those who engage in homophobic rhetoric have had to change its ways and euphemize its arguments, all the while toughening them by grounding them in the social sciences. Such rhetoric, in this process of modernization as it were, also retains its historical and structural affinities with heterosexism, misogyny, xenophobia, and all the discourses of social hatred in general. For all this, it remains a diffuse, difficult, and delicate object because, in the end, it is less a discourse than a linguistic climate whose everyday effects are felt even in the absence of effective expression. This is a crucial point, which is doubtlessly difficult for those who have never experienced it to understand, but, in fact, social homophobia creates the symbolic conditions of permanent moral insecurity, whose insults or anathema are nothing more than secondary symptoms. Thus, beyond the various words spoken here and there, and without mentioning the physical
violence
that often accompanies them, homophobic rhetoric resides less in the overt discourses than in the possible ones, which force those who are their potential targets to be constantly wary of them in order to better avoid, anticipate, reject, or internalize them—a daily task that weighs heavily on morale. However, homophobic rhetoric has perhaps finally started to reach its limits: in the end, in the absence of all rationality, it can only resort to tautological redundancy (“Come now, a man is a man!”) or esoteric transcendence (i.e. God or moral, symbolic, or natural order). Regardless, those who still cling to homophobic rhetoric feel the need to constantly justify it and themselves, which is a small victory, but a victory indeed.
—Louis-Georges Tin