1
TEARING DOWN THE CLOSET? AStudyoftheRoleofthe Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras in the Construction of a Gay and Lesbian Community ... and Beyond. This thesis is submitted in fulfilment of the requirement of the completion of the degree Master of Arts (Hons) in the School of Sociology, University of News South Wales, 26th of July, 1993.
2 "do not go gentle into that good night, rage, rage against the dying of the light!" Dylan Thomas.
3 ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Several people made the composition of this thesis an enjoyable project and also offered valuable support during moments of self doubt and indecision. Others offered their advice, the benefit of their knowledge and experience, supervision, as well as much needed assistance with the more tiresome chores such as proof reading, collating and printing. In no special order I would like to thank the following for their help: Larry Galbraith, Dominic Hearn, Ian Marsh, the Mardi Gras Assn., Jason Hand, Steve D'Alton, and Jenny Atkins.
4 TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction...... 7 Who's in the closet?
Chapter one ...... 12 Foucault, Genealogy and the construction of the closet.
Chapter two ...... 19 a) A general history of contemporary social movements b) From liberation to legitimation: The birth of the gay and lesbian rights movement.
Chapter three ...... 48 a) Community theories, the creation of subculture, the relation between subculture and community. b) Gay and lesbian subculture/community in Sydney.
Chapter four ...... 77 Throw open your doors! Mardi Gras as event, authorised transgression and spectacle.
Chapter five ...... 98 Tearing down the closet? A 'queer' challenge to contemporary gay and lesbian politics.
Conclusion ...... 113 Some speculation on future directions of Mardi Gras and the Gay and lesbian community.
Footnotes ...... 120
Bibliography ...... 125
Appendices
5 ABB RE VIA TI ONS
ACON AIDS Council of New South Wales.
AGSM Australian Graduate School of Management, University of New South Wales.
CAM CAMPAIGN
CAMP Campaign Against Moral Persecution
GCN Gay Community News
GLRL Gay and Lesbian Rights Lobby
OUT OUTRAGE
SG&LMG Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras
SMH SYDNEY MORNING HERALD.
6 INTRODUCTION: who's in the closet?
The sexual revolution, so emblematic of the zeitgeist of the radical 60's is long dead. Crushed under the spectre of AIDS and abused by the conspicuous (self) consumption of the 1970's and 80's yuppie libertines, the 'liberation' of modern sexuality from the stifling conformity and regulation best represented by institutions such as marriage and the nuclear family never arrived. However, that revolution's most promising progeny, the gay liberation movement lives on, though in a much altered form and in a variety of guises; growing stronger by the year, pushing back the prejudice of assumption and stereotype, challenging the accepted norms of a perpetually conservative, straight Australian society and providing an environment of security and community in which thousands of Australians can express their same gender sexual preference with confidence and pride... or does it?
Even a casual observer of the annual Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras cannot fail to be amazed at the size and the spectacle of the event. As a festival, it is a swirling, glitzy, month long celebration of pride in the Sydney gay and lesbian community, culminating in the largest night-time homosexual parade in the world, which as a demonstration of both solidarity and political clout is formidable. Mardi Gras however is more than just a celebration or even a show of community strength; in so many ways it is that community. It provides a focal point for the disparate identities of a number of homoerotic subcultures, it provides a space in which those groups (many of whom have little contact during the rest of the year) can parade together, it provides a history which they can all call their own and importantly, it provides a friendly interface between the gay and straight communities, where information can be exchanged, propaganda disseminated, and in amongst the hoopla, a damn good time be had by all.
Mardi Gras is Australia's most potent manifestation of gay and lesbian pride. It is a vehicle for the expression of a social movement, a community beacon, and I would argue, a cultural landmark. As such, its interest to the sociologist is considerable. The fact that so little study has been directed principally at Mardi Gras piques the interest even more. How did this event -only 16 years old- which attracts crowds of upwards of half a million people grow so fast? In a social climate which could only be described as stridently homophobic, how did a radical protest movement evolve into a multi media extravaganza? Who controls Mardi Gras today and who does Mardi Gras represent? These are some of the questions that I will endeavour to answer during the course of this thesis. But more than this, it is the deeper questions, more particular to the very existence of gay and lesbian culture and community that I shall address in describing
7 the history of Mardi Gras, gay rights and the gay community. I will critically analyse the position that the gay and lesbian community occupies today vis-a-vis what shall be called 'mainstream' Australian society, according to the stated aims of the gay liberation movements that originally created Mardi Gras. It comes as no surprise that the politics of gay rights in the l 990's are substantially different from those of the l 970's, but what is interesting is to trace how the radical ideal of liberation evaporated, to be replaced by the politics of pragmatism and compromise. Does that initial ideal still hold any currency today?
The closet metaphor is a crucial tool in my analysis. Who's in the closet? I argue that it's the whole gay and lesbian community. Mardi Gras will be paraded in chapter 4 as a big open closet, par excellence! Chapter 5 will deal with the thorny issue of coming out. .. as a political and social statement, coming out begs the obvious question; what are you getting into? Perhaps the most important aim of this thesis is to deconstruct the implicit acceptance of the existence of 'the closet' as a vector of human sexuality exclusively applied to those acts and that identity known as homosexual. The closet will be identified as a strategic positioning of an individual or group identity that sets that individual/group in a certain power relationship relative to all other outside identities. This will be achieved by revealing the particular mode of thinking -the epistemology of sexuality- that categorises, classifies and divides all people according to type into a series of closets. It is my contention that it is impossible to come out of one closet without removing all closets. I will explore how not only does the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras reinforce its own well appointed closet, but how the gay and lesbian community overwhelmingly supports the status quo through elitism and deliberately exclusionist policies.
The fact that our society has laws designed with the specific intention of regulating the sex life of the individual attests to the importance that we place on sexuality as a determinant of behaviour and an influence on the 'well-being' of that society as a whole. The categorisation of sexuality as outlined in the work of French social theorist Michel Foucault, can be seen as unique to what he calls the episteme of modernity. 1 What needs to be examined is whether, as all other articles of faith in the modern world crack under careful scholarly analysis, so too can we rid ourselves of those unnecessary and inappropriate classifications. Can we eliminate 'the homosexual' and return him and her to the mainstream of 'sexual' beings? Can we possibly live in a society in which people do not discriminate for or against certain 'types' of sexuality and in which sex in all its many forms returns to the personal (as opposed to the legal, medical and political) arena? In some respects, this project is an exploration beyond the current discursive
8 boundaries of sexuality -in which gay and lesbian identities are gaining increasing legitimation- and perhaps a somewhat Utopian vision of another form of sexual knowledge.
There exists a fundamental tendency toward the imposition of Cartesian binary oppositions in modern western thinking; mind/body, right/wrong, naturaVunnatural, knowledge/ignorance, virgin/whore ... this way of thinking permeates every thought we construct so that by extension, all of our social relations are of a similarly dyadic nature. Whether class, gender, race, or sex, the terms of western thinking have been constructed around a structural division of responsibility and power, according to a two valued logic which assumes that the good, the strong and the knowledgeable (however they may be defined) must dominate the bad, the weak and the ignorant (Sedgwick; 1990). Though the terms of this relationship may change according to the Hegelian struggle of the master/slave dialectic, the structure itself remains static. In the politico sexual realm this has had the tendency of focussing homosexual political attention on the dialectic of closet/out. To be out is considered the crowning achievement in realising, accepting and rejoicing in the affirmation of one's same sex preference. In the heat generated around the fuss of coming out and then struggling with one's new out life, what I identify as the more important step of abolishing the very barrier that makes coming out such a dramatic step is lost. To be sure, coming out is a wonderful achievement for any gay person to take and a quantum leap in terms of the way it affects one's lifestyle, but one must not lose sight of the need to change the way that we think of sex so that coming out is not necessary for future generations of homoerotically inclined individuals.
The crux of Foucault's studies on human sexuality is the assertion that sexuality is a social construction; it varies from one society to the next and must therefore be studied as a discrete body of behaviour. Traditionally, modem western thinking has tended to treat sexuality as a constant historical given. It is assumed to be absolute and unchanging across cultures. It was from this perspective that the sexual categories of heterosexual and homosexual were created. These categories tend to gloss over sexuality as being an unimportant or peripheral facet of societal behaviour. Foucault made it the focus of his attention in the HISTORY OF SEXUALITY.
The very notion of liberation of sexuality is an intriguing one and some obvious questions spring to mind, such as; liberation from what? How has it been confined? What is a free sexuality? How does the venue in which sexuality is expressed vary? and What are sexual politics? These are important questions to ask when studying a cultural
9 movement such as Mardi Gras, which even today defines itself according to a romanticised and confused discourse of liberation. Mardi Gras is still promoted as a challenging and highly political event. I will argue to the contrary in chapter 4, that it is in the nature of the event as a spectacle to be fundamentally conservative and reinforcing of the status quo.
According to Foucault, sexuality became subject to the forces of production after the industrial revolution, just like all other behaviour. It was accorded a function -in 'legitimate' procreation- a place -in the conjugal boudoir- a time -night-time, under cloak of darkness and when the worker is otherwise unoccupied- in short, it was regulated, scheduled and rationalised. The classification of sexuality according to a supposedly moral code, but in actuality more akin to an economic code of utility, created the notion of legitimate and illegitimate sexual practices. That sex which occurred between a man and a woman blessed by the sanctity of matrimony was deemed the most productive and the most conducive to the maintenance of social order. All other expressions of sexuality were in tum classified and located within various subordinate positions in the social terrain, from the relatively harmless, secretly tolerated brothel, through to the gaol for such 'criminal' acts as sodomy, and the lunatic asylum for those who favoured pederasty(Foucault; 1978). Sex was in this way made the subject of the greatest utility. It was sterilised, regulated and ultimately centered around productivity. It became subject to the rules of resource exploitation (comprising as it did a significant amount of time and energy in the thoughts and actions of the labour force). Repressed sexuality became an important feature of the work ethic.
Now in a time at which the forces of production have turned on culture for their raw materials, an industry has been founded around talking about sex. From the psychologist, to the social movement, to the academy, houses of parliament and the judiciary, discourse on sexuality is a lucrative and seemingly inexhaustible business. As I will argue in chapter 2, sexual liberation -recoded in the more utilitarian language of empowerment- has in the 1990's taken on the structure and attitude of the business. Gay rights organisations as one example, are highly motivated professional enterprises. Although they may not operate according to the profit motive in a pure economic sense, they do nonetheless compete in a business like fashion for government funding, they demonstrate a well organised hierarchical bureaucratic structure and they jealously guard a measure of power which suggests that the ideological motive of liberation/equality/recognition is at least equalled by the motive for (private) enterprise. In other words, for example, gay and lesbian rights as an industry, has flourished in the past five to ten years.
10 An obvious, though unpopular question to ask among the 'politically correct' of gay rights activism is; how much does the business of liberating the sexually oppressed actually run counter to its stated objectives? Surely sexual liberation and business lie in an oxymoronic relation to one another? Power, I will argue, is the common denominator that keeps uniting these two disparate forces. In fact it is my contention that those social movements have not in any way liberated sexuality, but have merely precipitated a redistribution of power with themselves as the major beneficiaries. To use the currently fashionable parlance, empowerment is the main objective. In this sense perhaps social movements are no longer liberative at all, but are instead a more refined -user friendly- means of regulating sexuality? Is legislating gay and lesbian specific anti discrimination policies actually emancipating an oppressed sexual minority, or is it drawing new boundaries around a behaviour which is still very much subject to regulation and control? In other words, this constitutes a reclassification, not a liberation. On closer scrutiny though, neither can it constitute an empowerment, when the right to exercise or regulate that power remains in other hands.
I will argue that the gay rights social movement actually supports the categorisation and regulation of sexuality, but agitates to shift the boundaries of what is considered 'normal' to include its own proclivities. In this sense, the radical, liberative spirit of early gay liberation and the 60's inspired ethos of sexual liberation in general has shifted dramatically over 20 years. What happened to the ideal? The politics of gay and lesbian rights in the 1990's are more appropriately identified as liberal by many of its major players. However, there is still both a strong undercurrent of radical sentiment within the community as well as an overwhelming perception in the mainstream of Australia of gay and lesbian politics as being 'right out there' radical...is radicalism still possible in 1990's Australian politics?
In many respects, this thesis is willfully polemical. It is written in the spirit of challenge to a community that long since gave up parading the banner of radicalism for the comfortable co-option of political legitimation, and associate membership in the mainstream as a recognised minority. It is necessary and appropriate that someone supportive of Mardi Gras and of the right of all individuals to a free expression of their sexuality2 play the devils advocate and ask the hard questions that the community too often denies. This is the role that I have taken on.
11 CHAPTER ONE: METHODOLOGY
History is constantly rewritten according to the changing state of our knowledge and the development of the tools of analysis at our disposal. One of those tools, developed in the 1960's and illustrated over a number of influential studies throughout the 70's, was Foucault's discourse of history as genealogy. In the sense that Foucault attempted to "reconstruct generative processes and make visible heretofore unseen relations among apparently disparate phenomena...... to break down the familiar units, categories, continuities and totalities through which history, society and the symbolic order are traditionally interpreted"{Taylor Bannet; 1989, p.96) I am pursuing a Foucauldian genealogical method in my analysis of the construction of the Sydney gay and lesbian community and the role that Mardi Gras has played in that process.
Mardi Gras exists within very distinct boundaries, but the social milieu from which it was spawned is not nearly so clearly defined or delimitable. My work is a history in the sense that it describes the transformation of an event over a specific time frame and the changes that that event has both effected and been effected by in the surrounding communities. Most specifically, as the title suggests, I am exploring the relationship between the Mardi Gras and that of the gay community. Crucial to this task is my definition of the term genealogy and its relationship to the more traditional conception of human history as embodying the meta narrative of evolution. Genealogy is not considered as a part of any teleological map of the progress of humanity or the descent of man. It is not specifically tied to a necessary beginning or end -assumed or real- and no value need necessarily be attached to the changing over time of the subject under analysis. In simpler terms, I define genealogy as the study of the changing of a subject over time to suit its constantly changing environment. This is a synchronic process; the subject both changes and is changed by its interaction with its environment. There is no 'progress' in the modem teleological sense of the word and likewise there can be no given direction to this process of change.
Genealogy has also been called "The philosophy of the will to power" by Gilles Deleuze (Taylor Bannet; 1989, p.131). Power is a crucial concept in any genealogical analysis. Power is omnidirectional; it can come from anywhere and lead anywhere, it does not have a specific beginning or end. The importance of recognising the will to power as the motive force behind all human actions is that it means one can conceive of history as being the struggle of different forces for ascendency; not one against another as in the Hegelian dialectical opposition, but many against each other; never equal,
12 never even fully identified except by the historian, who in analysing archives and documents unveils hidden courses of power and creates maps of meaning out of a jumble of otherwise random documents. The historian is like a cartographer in placing contour lines of social congruence between events separated by time, geography and culture, but joined by a particular way of thinking that Foucault identified -and all historians who use his methods identify- as the episteme of an age. The study of history gives meaning to the will to power.
"In our time, history is that which transforms documents into monuments."(Foucault, 1972, p.16). The discontinuous was the obstacle which must be written out of history in order to create the great continuity. Now the discontinuous is the object of the historians work. BUT, how can the discontinuity or the irruption be analysed on its own? It is the dividing line between two fields, it allows one to draw boundaries around those distinct fields, but one cannot study that territory that divides the fields without comparing the fields themselves. When looking at discontinuity, how does one decide where the discontinuity lies? What size unit does one take as the fundamental building block? The history of thought, philosophy, knowledge, and literature according to Foucault are continually discovering new divisions, new discontinuities, while history itself is tending in the opposite direction, toward great 'architectonic unities'; huge stable ages and continuities. One might ask then, where does this leave the age of modernity? Is there such a thing as an episteme of modernity? I argue yes, but I hesitate to accept Foucault's rather cavalier demarcations by date (which only suggest his underlying inability to totally abandon chronology), and I would suggest that the epistemic changes that do occur over time do so gradually and chronologically staggered, rather than as one absolute rupture. This criticism of Foucault in no way precludes the effective use of genealogy as a method of historical enquiry.
"Genealogy is grey, meticulous and patiently documentary."(Foucault,1972, p.76) It depends on a vast accumulation of source material. My task will be to study the composition of every Mardi Gras since its inception in 1978. I have sifted through the historical documents that surround the Mardi Gras phenomenon; gay publications such as the SYDNEY STAR OBSERVER, CAPITAL Q, OUTRAGE and CAMPAIGN, previous Mardi Gras programmes, mainstream media reports and the archives of the Mardi Gras association itself. Very little academic scholarship has been undertaken in the area of what is becoming known as gay history and so far as my investigations showed only one previous work has directly addressed Mardi Gras as the subject of its study1.
13 If genealogy is the process of uncovering, of making the invisible plain to see, its object is not the uncovering of truth, nor the uncovering of the beauty of the origin of history, but of uncovering all of the slips, disruptions, discontinuities and rents in what is otherwise glibly known as the fabric of history. In my study I will point out how 'change' has become the norm. 'Liberation' is a word bandied about much as revolution was earlier in the 20th century. Both are chimerical, both are products of the logic of capitalism and rationality being pursued to its highest degree. Fashion is the perfect example; change is institutionalised and yet still paraded as being revolutionary. In this sense there is no change ... no liberation, no revolution.
In the sense that a genealogy is a deconstruction of a particular episode or passage in history, my attempt at a genealogy of the Mardi Gras will seek to shed light on not so much the creation of the taxonomic homosexual mentioned in the introduction him/herself, but on the creation of the gay community as an extension of all that 'the homosexual' stands for. Furthermore, I will attempt to demonstrate how the gay community not only fulfils all of the functions assigned to it as a newly legitimated minority, but how as an integral part of that legitimation -the taking of ones place in society- the community actually maintains and reinforces its minority status.
So what is the basis of my methodology? To the extent that I believe that there does exist an inherent structural inequality in the creation of and administration of power in all human societies, my analysis is predicated on structuralist assumptions. This inequality is not the same across human societies and neither does it remain constant within a given society over time. Structuralism is a general concept; it attempts to expose discourse, expose the hidden, or taken for granted. Marx was perhaps the first exponent of this generalist approach to history, but unlike Marx, I do not accept the primacy of the division between the working and the ruling class as being the only locus of conflict in an industrial society. As I stated before, power is omnidirectional and immanent to all interrelations. It is inherently unstable, can come from anywhere and is never centred on a single point. Nevertheless, power and structure go hand in glove; structure is the apparatus through which power is maintained. It is my intention to further the work of Foucault in his HISTORY OF SEXUALITY by uncovering the gloss of preconceptions and stereotyping that congeals around contemporary debate about human sexuality. This thesis is a small attempt to redress the neglect prior to the work of Foucault to place sexuality in an historical context; to give it legitimacy. In discussing 'the homosexual', 'the homosexual in Sydney' and the formation of the Sydney 'gay and lesbian community' I am by extension also discussing 'the heterosexual', 'the heterosexual in Sydney', etc. In the sense that the discourse of
14 sexuality belongs to a particular episteme, my analysis will be concerned with revealing the codes that regulate the functioning of that discourse within that particular epistemic structure identifiable in contemporary Australian society.
Insofar as Foucault was not a structuralist and that he considered genealogy to be distinct from structural analysis, this thesis is also not based on structuralism. It would be easy to apply a semiological analysis to the formation of the gay community and its acquisition of a particular 'space' with the aid of a juxtapositioning of the popular gay euphemism 'the closet' on that space. To a great extent, my thesis relies heavily on the metaphorical construction and subsequent deconstruction of the gay community as an extended closet. There are several reasons why I choose not to apply a more detailed semiological analysis; a)I have considerable reservations concerning the discipline of semiology, based on the belief that the sign is inherently unstable because it changes depending on who reads it and how. In other words, every signified is also a signifier. b) Semiology is too meticulous a method to study what I am studying; ie its focus is too specific and too intense for my purposes, and c) A semiological study of Mardi Gras as a symbolic landscape has already been conducted and whilst I freely acknowledge my debt to that study as a reference source, I have no desire to repeat its findings.
Having qualified the parameters of my method, the closet metaphor will be employed to highlight a process of division inherent not only within or between homo and heterosexuality, but within the discourse of sexuality itself. The closet is a metaphor for the discourse of sexuality; ie that process or method of thinking which evolved during the nineteenth century and which actively divides and redivides human sexual behaviour according to a prioritised list of 'acts' registered in descending order from the genitally centred, procreative sex of 'the heterosexual', down ... The rise in prominence of gay politics and the gay community in many advanced industrial nations does not constitute a breaking down of these barriers or the episteme that enforces them, but an appropriation of some of the power that was (is) keeping them down .. .in fact, an appropriation of the power that keeps them 'them'. This indicates that the categories are shifting balance as power flows between them, but they are in no way breaking down. With the increasing knowledge of ones position as a position of power, the further acquisition of power acts as a sedimentary force which locks the holder into a rigid relationship through which the players on each side are reluctant to transgress.
'Sexuality' is rooted in the modem episteme, yet we speak of it as if it were a natural, or given characteristic of human nature. More appropriately, we cannot speak of 'sexuality' without conceiving of it as a body of knowledge created in the 19th century
15 and suffering constant redefinition throughout the 20th. This is the discourse of sexuality. I use suffering as a value based term which will be defended as one of the central axioms of my thesis; the desire to dismantle the discourse of sexuality in the pursuit of a less judgemental expression of human social relations. But the problem goes deeper. This discourse of sexuality is in fact a further division of what Foucault calls the discourse of man.(De George, 1972, p.269) 'Man' is the creation of modem culture; a being comprised of a body of knowledge coterminous with but not contained by science. Despite the attempts of countless theorists to justify the study of man under the hubris of science, Foucault steadfastly maintained that this is a myth. Man cannot be the object of science because he exists beneath, within and beyond science ... "this relationship presupposes, in fact, the transposition of external models within the dimension of the unconscious and conscious, and the flowing back of critical reflection towards the very place from which those models come...... It is therefore not man's irreducibility, what is designated as his invincible transcendence, nor even his excessively great complexity, that prevents him from becoming an object of science. Western culture has constituted, under the name of man, a being who, by one and the same interplay of reasons, must be a positive domain of knowledge and cannot be an object of science. "(De George, p.269)
Foucault raises the possibility of the disappearance of 'man', as language 'regains its unity.' The recognition of a multiplicity of speaking subjects and the primacy of language as a system of representation opens the way for the disintegration of the discourse of man in favour of the reign of the sign. Defining, redefining and redefining again, 'man' reduces himself back to the Cartesian individual and the sphere of the social loses its clarity of distinction as 'man' recedes and the sign emerges from the shadows. The creation of 'the gay community' can be read as one such sign; it will in tum fragment and disappear. "Man had been a figure occurring between two modes of language; or rather, he was constituted only when language, having been situated within representation and as it were, dissolved in it, freed itself from that situation at the cost of its own fragmentation: Man composed his own figure in the interstices of that fragmented language. "(De George p.284) This is a possible point of departure into the nebulous world of the discourse of postmodemity, but, like semiology I will resist the temptation, because to pursue such a path would be both beyond the textual limits of this thesis, and beyond the limit of my patience with theoretical discourse. To this end I intend to set as my conceptual boundary the work of Guy Debord in SOCIETY OF THE SPECTACLE; a work which can itself be read as occupying the interstices of structuralism, Foucault in particular, and the postmodem.
16 One of the features of using a genealogical analysis of Mardi Gras and the creation of a gay community is that the rhetoric that surrounds the community is founded on a belief that a clear break in gay history occurred some time in the late 1960's - symbolically represented by the Stonewall uprising of June, 1969. To be sure, most 'gay historians' take this event to be the 'birth' of gay history. All events in gay political life are marked according to a calendar which lists Stonewall as the beginning of modem gay activism. The events of that particular time form the mise en scene of contemporary gay life. The provision of such an obvious starting date more than compensates for the relative dearth of documentation on the progress of gay and lesbian activism, but also, considering its own exponential growth (ie gay media) over the 24 years involved it is a graphic indicator of the speed and efficiency with which a 'gay mythology' or gay history is being created.
What was that initial break that precipitated in 20 years the creation of a new and vibrant community, where for 100 years previously there had been hidden cultures, the despised homosexual personality and the dreadful secret of the love that dare not speak its name? Furthermore, just as there was a rupture when 'the homosexual' was created in the 1860's2, did this new rupture signal a change in thinking about homosexuality (both by homosexuals themselves and by society in general) or could the change be located elsewhere in society, with the creation of the gay community being one among many associated societal changes? Finally, just how much was this change in thinking a change at all? Was it an epistemological break with the past, was it an inflexion in history, or was it instead just a redefinition of the existing episteme? I will argue that the creation of a gay community is not the result of an epistemological rupture, but of the episteme unfolding itself more fully.
The study of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras is interesting because it is the study of the forces contributing to the generating of a new community using the old tools of liberal social activism and carving out a space which is not a new space, but a reappropriated space. The meaning of what constitutes community as a particular space has not changed -it is still communal space, it still operates according to a higher code of rules and protocols concerning community- but the meaning of this space is entirely new. Perhaps we can say the space has changed, but the space remains the same. It is the same space as it was before and is used for most of the same purposes, but by a different group of people. This is a group of people who (since their 'creation' in the late 19th century) have been in search of a space and now seem to have found it. To this end it could be said that my work is a study of a displaced people who are in the process of finding their home ... unlike indigenous people who had a strong identity and were then
17 forced off their land, the gay community consists of people who have been forced into an identity and who have subsequently pursued a desire for land. This desire for land or space is what constitutes the modem western epistemological communitarian desire to express itself or find its identity in the particular environment that it occupies. A desire to have sovereignty over that environment .. a closet of one's own.
18 CHAPTER TWO: SOCIAL MOVEMENTS
a) A general history of social movements.
In a pluralist society, participatory democracy is the major vector of social change. Lobby groups representing all manner of interest and community seek to exert pressure on governments and the judicial system by the skilled manipulation of the media and the activation of awareness and sympathy of the need for change in the broader community. Such awareness can only be created if the particular lobby has a platform from which to deliver its message. This platform must be by turns spectacular enough to catch the attention of the mass media, controversial enough to provoke discussion and debate, and most importantly, solid enough to withstand the counter pressure of conservatism and overwhelming inertia which is the inevitable response of a huge and relatively stable mass to any attempted disruption in its gravity. In order for a movement of any kind to find its own voice and achieve the sovereignty that mass recognition confers, it must break free of the orbit of the body of consensual indifference that seems to be the law of (post)modern society. Like Newton's law of falling bodies, individuals are inevitably attracted to the mass, which due to its vast bulk remains in a perpetual state of lethargy and somnolence. As Baudrillard asserted (Baudrillard, 1983), the mass(es) are congenitally deaf, blind and mute. It is only through the efforts of those individuals seeking out others of like mind that enough energy can coalesce around a shared principle and an escape velocity can be achieved, such that the new collective voice may be heard above the white noise of confusion that dominates our day to day lives.
Mardi Gras is one such platform, from which gay and lesbian rights organisations annually shout their messages through the streets; the messages are many, their intentions are various and their beneficiaries covering a diverse cross section of political, ethnic, religious and economic situations from the greater Sydney and Australian society. Culturally, all of these people are united in the celebration of the identification of their homosexuality as a shared experience that has historically been kept secret, been vilified, been the subject of discrimination and at times brutal oppression. As such, Mardi Gras symbolises a gathering of forces united in the aim of making the secret public and staking a claim for the basic human rights that most in Australian society take for granted. It is a platform for the articulation of a body of gay pride messages, all of which collectively represent what has come to be known as the gay and lesbian rights social movement.
19 What are social movements? One thing my research made clear was that there are as many definitions of social movement as there are sociologists working in the area. Melucci (Melucci, 1985) identifies in social movements a reaction by an increasingly educated and socially aware class of people in advanced industrial societies to the movement of capital toward multinational monopoly. Unlike traditional class based analyses of society, these people are not readily identifiable as belonging to the proletariat, or the middle class; there is no clear definition between oppressor and oppressed. Many of the issues they address transcend those divisions. He recognises the growing dissatisfaction among those people with the mechanisms of liberal democratic politics, a lack of confidence in the power of government to effectively govern, and a concomitant desire among those people to try a more direct approach by applying their own distinctive form of pressure directly on both government and the owners of capital.
Without a doubt, the conceptual origins -or perhaps I should say the spirit- of social movements can be found in the classical Marxist strategy of addressing a perceived social imbalance or inequality through the redistribution of resources. This is however, a gross generalisation which requires elaboration. Unlike Marxist politics which places the vector for social change in the binary opposition of class, the social movement recognises many more positions for opposition than a strictly class based one. Shifting the focus of analysis from class to culture opens up a veritable Pandora's box of subjective positions from which to speak. It is no longer possible to look for the agent of social change as it was when Marx identified the revolutionary potential of the proletariat in nineteenth century industrial society. The pluralist nature of and multiplicity of voices that make up what is too often loosely referred to as the cultural hegemony of contemporary liberal democratic society, so fracture the old tectonic class division as to make the Hegelian dialectical conception of history unusable. The social movement as a historical movement must be located in a different historical method. Discourse replaces ideology as the vehicle of political expression and the Foucauldian genealogy of the will to power replaces the Hegelian dialectic as the most effective tool in the analysis of history. The social movement is, in this sense, epistemic more than revolutionary; it is as much a part of the continuing development of modem rational thinking as the Hegelian revolution is potentially, its antithesis. As a particular discursive formation, the social movement is at all times bound by its historical context, it operates within, rather than against the episteme of modem rationality.
Recognising the inability and in fact the unwillingness of governments to effect social change, collectivities form and use the tools of cultural manipulation that have
20 been made accessible to the masses with the express purpose of bringing about change themselves. As Melucci says, "the simple domination of nature and the transformation of raw materials into commodities is no longer central. Instead, societies' capacity to produce information, communications and sociability depends upon an increasing level of self reflexiveness and upon the self production of action itself."(Melucci, 1989, p.46) There still exists a power struggle, and it still centres on control of the means of production, but it is no longer between the owner and the workers and it is no longer over the means of material production. Now the battle is over cultural production and the battle lines -once so clearly, if unequally drawn- are by no means clear at all. The media may play a helping or hindering role, as can business interests be found on all sides. Media is both a tool of cultural production and its own product, social movements themselves evolve into businesses; Culture is now recognised as the product par excellance.The social movement is a deliberate and self conscious attempt to create its own culture. It is therefore paradoxically, both product and producer.
Social movements represent a shift from the 'old' politics of economic, social, domestic and military security which all focused on the importance of protecting the means of material production, toward a 'new' politics of the individual; equality, human rights, lifestyle. They are volatile, sensationalist and deliberately seek to disrupt the normal flow of communication, power and decision making, with the aim through that disruption of breaking into the consciousness of the dormant mass and convincing them of the moral superiority of their cause. Due to this bi partisan agitation, social movements are unpopular with both the left and right of traditional liberal democratic politics. A conservative view of social movements would suggest that any voice heard outside of the normal channels of the liberal democratic decision making process is a challenge to the legitimacy of the institution itself. I will argue later in this chapter that such is not the case.
To define the space in which social movements operate, Melucci claims that the present is the locus of current conflict. Social movements focus on changing social relationships now; they are not historic struggles in the Hegelian tradition which sets opponents up on a dramatic revolutionary stage. Their very specificity to one particular issue or concern and the energy with which they pursue that aim raises the level of intensity and publicity of what may otherwise be a peripheral social concern -or what has historically been repressed- to momentary centre stage. The discourse of social movements speaks not in terms of revolution, but of legitimacy; of identifying and promoting the rights of oppressed minorities. This legitimacy comes in several forms:
21 POLITICAL: Direct participation in the liberal democratic process through representation in the legislative assembly. The strong position of the green parties in German politics provides an ideal example here.
LEGAL: The recognition of the rights of a community or interest group in the form of laws passed to protect the actions of the individual from persecution by other individuals or other hostile group. A current Australian example is the battle by gay and lesbian activist groups for the passing of anti discrimination legislation which will outlaw the vilification of homosexuals in much the same manner as racist abuse was outlawed some 15 years ago 1. One outcome of the passing of this bill will be the introduction of administrative bodies that regulate, identify and provide surveillance mechanisms for the effective carriage of that new legislation.
ECONOMIC: Money talks. A social movement can have no better justification of its existence in an advanced industrial society -especially one beset by the economic woes of 1993 Australia- than a clearly demonstrated revenue generating capacity. Much of the justification of the annual Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras by the Mardi Gras Association to the various levels of government, to the media and indeed to the still threatening mainstream Sydney community is that it is enormously successful as a tourist attraction and financially rewarding to the whole of Sydney2.
MEDIA: Perhaps the first course of action that any fledgeling social movement takes is to seek legitimacy of its existence through exposure to the mainstream public via the various channels of mass media. Without this exposure, a social movement simply does not exist in the imagination of the public. It is through the marshalling of public sympathy that the social movement aims to apply pressure to the political and legal agencies of decision making. The primary objective of the social movement is to use the media as a fulcrum to lever the bulk of mass support out of its constitutional inertia and into action.
Civil society therefore becomes the domain of struggles and public spaces the venue for political processes. (Cohen, 1985, p.700). It is the social realm in which Cohen locates the creation of norms, identities, and social relations of domination and resistance. He stresses the importance of the Habermassian notion of the double character of the institutional make up of civil society, because "it goes beyond the one sided stress on alienation or domination (Marx, Foucault) and the equally one-sided focus on integration (Durkheim, Parsons)"(Cohen, 1985, p.712). So, the legal system
22 provides protection and barriers to collective action, the mass media are authoritarian and emancipatory, it is this duality that the social movement exploits.
The unique position that the social movement occupies outside the constraints and protocols of parliament or the judiciary enable it to behave in ways that would not be accepted within those institutions. Marches, demonstrations, occupations, graffiti etc can all be employed to exploit the mechanism of mass media, which operates on a paradigm of news creation through the selective highlighting of those events which disrupt the uniformity of day to day life. To use a popular journalists maxim; 'report the unusual.' The effective sale of the commodity that is news depends on raising the "psychic anxiety" (Watney, 1987) of its audience in order to keep that audience on the edge of its collective seat and keep therri wanting more. No one will bother watching a news broadcast that tells them all is well. The news serves as a periodic alarm, waking people out of their stupor with reports of violent change and uncertainty; not always bad, but equally never good for too long. It is this disruption that the social movement seeks to exploit by advertising its own difference and its own quintessential threat to the status quo. Of course to do so presents the terrible risk of annihilation when the withering glare of the media does tum like a magnifying glass on a fly in the direction of the fledgling social movement. The first response is still hostility; the easiest story still reports the negative aspect first; from women's lib to Aboriginal land rights, gay lib to the greenies, all have suffered early derision at the hands of the scornful media. But for the movement that can withstand the first blaze of notoriety, ridicule and suspicion, the rewards of effective media manipulation are high.
If Habermas identifies the social movement as exploiting the duality of the institutions of liberal democracy, Offe asserts that the identity of a social movement itself revolves around dual axes; the identity which they project within (their sense of communality or association) and the identity which they wish to project to the external community. To a great extent the traditional political codes, or frames of reference are transcended by social movements. The contemporary social movement cannot be located on the spectrum of left/ right politics. Labels such as liberal, conservative and radical are inappropriate, being invested as they are with the symbolism of traditional old liberal democratic politics. Likewise, socioeconomic codes such as working class/middle class, poor/wealthy, rural/urban, are transcended and cannot be used as convenient lines of demarcation when sketching the boundaties of contemporary social movements. Though many of the supporters of contemporary social movements can be identified as being self aware, class aware, and predominantly new middle class, many of the people who are represented by the social movement are not so easily labelled.
23 The gay movement is a perfect case in point; sexuality is not confined to a particular political or socioeconomic territory, it crosses all boundaries. According to Offe, these distinctions represent a new political paradigm which is rapidly superceding the old liberal democratic paradigm. He calls this new political paradigm "the 'modern' critique of further modernisation."(Offe, 1985, p.856). Although I agree with many of Offe's assertions, I will argue later in this chapter that far from superceding the 'old' liberal democratic paradigm, contemporary social movements such as the gay and lesbian movement vigorously support the institution of liberal democracy.
A more sophisticated analysis of social movements has been elaborated by Alain Touraine. Touraine bases his whole analysis around the concept of the self production of society. He says "In contrast with political parties and pressure groups which are involved in institutional politics, new social movements aim to transform existing cultural patterns."(Touraine; 1981, p.1). In this sense he identifies with the Marxian emphasis of social struggle and moreover the existence of an inherent structural inequality as the core of human society, as opposed to the functionalist search for integration and normative behaviour, or those who see social movements as merely those struggles by civil society against state incursion. However, this is not to suggest that social movements are in any definitional way a radical leftist force: "If we consider the world today, the most dynamic representation of social life is neither optimistic functionalism, pessimistic structural Marxism, nor pragmatic strategic conception of social action, but the call for identity and community...... The concept of social movement implies a different view of social life. Instead of analysing the social system as a set of transformations and specifications of cultural patterns into institutional norms and forms of cultural organisation, it emphasises the structural conflict in a given 'society', especially when it has a high capacity of modernisation and achievement, around the control of the instruments of transformation and production of social life."(Touraine; 1985, p.766).
Touraine asserts that it is when a society reaches its highest level of 'historicity' (ie the society's self production), that the evolutionist representation (that is, evolution considered as progress toward something; a teleological approach) so important in earlier stages is replaced by another form of knowledge, one in which that society realises its own ability to manufacture its own normative guidelines without the intervention of a superior order or being, be it God, Spirit, or History {Touraine; 1981, p.14). Genealogy is the perfect tool for the study of contemporary social movements because Foucault -in being himself a product of that changing discursive environment-
24 constructed the genealogical method specifically as another form of knowledge. To construct a genealogy is another form of the self production of society.
The rise of contemporary social movements indicates a shift in political organisation in western society that Touraine describes; "historically, we are not only experiencing the transition from one culture and one society to others, but also witnessing the end of revolutions in our part of the world, the end of a connection between a social movement and a state crisis, and consequently, the rejection of a soviet-type revolutionary state and the quest for a new connection between a social movement and institutional democracy. "(Touraine, 1981, p.17). Certainly, the current events in the former Yugoslavia would lead one to question this pronouncement, but then I would not classify any of the actors in that conflict as being representative of new social movements. Nationalism is a peculiarly nineteenth century social movement that continues to plague the world today, and no doubt will continue to do so well into the next century. The fact that there do exist several distinct types, or strata of social movement simultaneously (and often in the same place), is itself indicative of the need to consider history not from the grand revolutionary stage of Hegel, but from the 'archaeological' position of Foucault's genealogy, which recognises the existence of a multiplicity of speaking subjects.
According to Touraine, "Sociological thinking has been experiencing a lengthy crisis with the breakdown of the thought patterns applied to the study of society, both those of conservative ideology and Marxist ideology alike. Our most urgent need is to learn how to name and analyse the new social practices and the new forms of collective action which are shaping the societies of today and tomorrow."(Touraine, 1981, p.25). This is why I choose to use a genealogical approach. Ideology is inappropriate as a means of explaining historical change, due to its reliance on the two dimensional reality of the dialectic. The breakup of both the conservative and the radical ideological positions has left us with a multiplicity of discourses. Discourse implies the positioning of a given speaking subject in relation to a greater whole or system (in this case modem society), whilst recognising that it is neither the only opposition to that whole and that the whole itself is not an absolute entity, but comprised of a coalescence of conflicting discourses, all of which must share some collective core beliefs if they are to effectively relate to one another -even if only as rivals or enemies. Furthermore, that 'speaking subject' may occupy a number of positions in different discourses. Touraine describes it as a set of systems of action, these are social relations between actors who share a common social sphere and cultural orientation, who support that common social sphere, but whose specific interests conflict.
25 Touraine identifies in the self production of society the existence of a hegemonic order based around the fundamental conflict between "leaders or ruling groups which impose savings, deferred gratification patterns, abstract ideas and moral principles and at the same time identify their own interests with these universal principles, and 'people' or 'masses,' which are both subordinated to the control of cultural values by ruling groups and eager to eliminate this domination and to identify themselves with these cultural values."(Touraine; 1985, p.755). He suggests that this is an unresolvable conflict and the motivating force behind the constant self production of society. A social movement then, is "an agent of conflict for the social control of the main cultural patterns."(Touraine; 1985, p.776). For Touraine, conflict as embodied in the social movement is not merely structural, it is particular to the epistemic structure of modem industrial society.
"There is an almost general agreement that social movements should be conceived as a special type of conflict. Many types of collective behaviour are not social conflicts: Panics, crazes, fashions, currents of opinion, cultural innovations are not conflicts, even if they define in a precise way what they react to. A conflict presupposes a clear definition of opponents or competing actors and of the resources they are fighting for or negotiating to take control of."(Touraine; 1985, p.750). On the other hand, many types of collective behaviour do involve social conflict, but they too, are not social movements. For example, how does one distinguish between a people's revolution, a worker's union movement, and a gay rights movement? Are they all social movements? Clearly, all share core elements of popular support, shared goals and an antagonistic relation to another element of the society of which they are a part. But equally clearly, all three are very different from each other in most other respects.
While the social movement may be revolutionary, it does not have as its central aim revolution. Revolutions, according to Touraine grow out of social movements, but "every revolutionary creation of a new order is lead to destroy the social movement it is based on."(Touraine; 1985, p.762). The overriding aim of revolution is the elimination of all social conflict, so in achieving this aim, the social movement evaporates. Revolution is always neocommunitarian; it is never naturally formed, but is the result of a breakdown of the state and the political system with the concomitant desire to overturn that system, eliminate conflict, and return to a sense of order. A social movement is not trying to effect a coup; it does not want total political control, it does not want to overthrow the government that is oppressing it, and it has no wish for absolute power. The social movement -in being deliberately non revolutionary- locates
26 its raison d'etre in a specific identification with a single issue. It must be based on a single point of identity, whether that be political, cultural, ethnic, religious, or any combination thereof. As such, (despite the valid assertion by Touraine that all social movements can be linked to one paradigmatic construct of social conflict) the actors themselves are pluralistic in recognising the existence of more than one locus of social conflict and self consciously liberal democratic by supporting the processes of liberal democracy, through the manipulation of which they make their claim known.
This identification with the process of liberal democracy the social movement shares with union movements, however, they differ from the union movement in two key ways; a) The union movement represents a specific, clearly defined group of people in a constant, readily delimitable environment The union/corporate/state nexus is accepted by all parties as constant and legitimate. So too is the unresolvable nature of the relationship, which definitionally embraces conflict and institutionalises the dispute. The social movement on the other hand is by no means initially accepted, or legitimate, and it cannot work from the assumption that the conflict in which it is engaged is unresolvable. In this sense the social movement embodies the principle of the crusade; it starts with a clearly defined goal and pursues that goal with the intention of the resolution of that one specific conflict. This highlights the second difference between the union and the social movement, which is that, b) where the union is (ideologically) defensive, the social movement is aggressive; it must by definition adopt a positive approach. The union movement operates to protect its members, who's rights are constitutionally given and inalienable. The social movement -always operating from a subordinate position- seeks to create rights in order that its members might be accorded some protection.
Certain features can be identified which comprise a social movement, but this does not mean that each social movement must have all of these features, or that by having these features each social movement must have the same goal. They must by definition be elitist and exclusionary (within their ranks), but simultaneously universalist in the projection and dissemination of their message throughout society. For example, a gay rights social movement and an Aboriginal land rights movement both have very clear ideas of who is eligible for membership and of who is represented by their organisation. Whilst by no means mutually exclusive, the two movements would seem on the surface to be discursively miles apart, but a glimpse at the meta-discourse of social movement itself, as a paradigmatic construct, shows the two movements to have more similarities than difference. As I have already stated, there are as many definitions of social movement as there are theorists working in the area. Since it is not the intention of this
27 thesis to provide an extended critique on the theory of social movements, I have chosen as my preferred definition that of Touraine3, for reasons that will be discussed shortly. Touraine identifies four characteristics of social movements:
CHARACTERISTICS OF SOCIAL MOVEMENTS
Social movements are always defined by social conflict; that is, by clearly defined opponents. This invariably occurs first as an individual rupture with the dominant cultural values or institutional rules. There is only one central couple of conflicting social movements at any one time in a given society. Though they may take a multiplicity of forms, names and identities, each conflict is in fact a part of a greater movement which fights the same structural inequality. This does not mean that there is one clearly defined fault line across which equally visible opposing forces meet (the revolutionary, dialectical approach), but rather, like a war that occurs on several fronts, involving different actors, but the same war nonetheless.
All opposition through popular movements -though challenging a hegemonic 'social order'- must consider the actors in that hegemonic order to be part of a social movement themselves. "Holders of economic or political power must be analysed as a social movement instead of being identified with central cultural values and social norms." (Touraine; 1985, p.774). Thus, each lobby or popular protest group actually represents the power of the ruler over the ruled in the same way that a government, or the media, or corporate business represents the same power. It is not a shared power, it is not a coalescence or conspiratorial union of the ruler over the ruled, but it is the occupation of the same position in a common power relationship; a relationship which is particular to the episteme of modern society. As explained in chapter one, power cannot be delineated along the Marxist axis of class, and in the case of social movements neither is it as simple as locating the inequality in sexism, or racism, etc. The possession of and subsequent battle for power crosses all of these boundaries. Toward the end of this thesis I will be critically discussing the ways in which social movements generate their own power in a society in which the struggle for power is not over a fixed and limited quantity -like a pack of hounds fighting over a bone- but where power is ever increasing, as the means for cultural production and consumption continue to expand.
Politics has moved beyond the public domain and into the realm of the private. All aspects of personal life are now political. The struggle for the means of production is now centred squarely on the means of cultural production, and more, the ends of production too. The transfer of power in advanced industrial economics from
28 expression of civil discontent; they are small, but volcanic in constitution. Noisy, irreverent, chaotic, dangerous, exciting, they are the perfect vehicle for the transmission of information through mass media, which deals only with the noisy, the disruptive, the volatile and most importantly, the spectacular. A naive theoretical conception of the social movement might construe that movement as having done its job when it is no longer these things. But it must be accepted that a successful social movement will never achieve its stated aims. Like the law of diminishing returns , the bigger the movement becomes and the closer it seems to get to its objective, the more the objectives multiply, focus strays and its intentions get bogged down in its own freshly manufactured bureaucracy. In other words, the social movement also tends toward institutionalisation.
Such is the case with both the women's movement (the grandmother of all social movements) and the indigenous people's movement. Both in Australia are now 'represented' by government agencies4 and both have achieved legitimation at the governmental, juridical, and media levels. Many voices within both still claim to represent the original causes that made them what they are today .. .institutions. Duality, as I have argued is a feature of social movements. Exactly who do they represent? The notion of the 'collective actor' is always tenuous; from class consciousness to community consciousness, the problem is the same; to reduce the complexity of the relations and ideas within that class or community down to one ideology or discourse is to take the first step away from the needs of the individual actor and toward the creation of a new rule.
The case of gay rights social movements is especially interesting, given the movement's place in the creation of a new community. It is in the constant opening up of access to the creation of information that we find the diffraction of expression of social thought from class, through social movement, and beyond. The divisions that Foucault emphasises are increasing, rather than being broken down through social movements. Social movements do not change the 'mass', what they do is carve their own niche -legitimated legally, politically and culturally- they create and administer their own space, which will in time be further redefined within itself. We have classification upon classification; social movements are not opening up society in the functionalist sense that they are changing norms, nor are they overturning the ruling class in the revolutionary Marxist sense; no, the mass remains impassive ... fractured and rent with ever new communities, cultures, subcultures, all legitimated and politically represented, but all as far from representing the mass as are the government, the media,
29 etc, etc. As Melucci says, movements are social constructions. They are built, they are organised, and as they grow they become institutionalised (Melucci; 1985).
Contemporary social movements are, despite the critical appraisal above, invaluable mobilisers of popular sentiment and as I said at the beginning of this chapter, they are the major vector for social change in late 20th century Australian society. As a political force they are in their infancy, as is the sociological study of this distinctly new form of social organisation. Touraine said; "It took some time in the nineteenth century to discover the 'political capacity of the labouring classes'; we are only approaching an analogous stage of evolution of the new social movements."(Touraine; 1985, p785).
30 b) From liberation to legitimation: The birth of the gay and lesbian rights movement.
In the introduction I talked about the way in which Foucault identified the creation of the homosexual as a species in the late mid nineteenth century. Perhaps Foucault borrowed the seed of his idea from Alfred Kinsey, who in his landmark 1948 study on male sexuality5 suggested that the word homosexual should only be used as an adjective to describe certain sexual acts, not as a noun to describe certain types of people6. It was Kinsey who first attacked the 'scientific' approach to explaining the causes of homosexuality when he suggested that we should equally seek to discover the causes of heterosexuality. Kinsey rejected both the biological and psychological explanations of homosexuality and asserted in their place -echoing Freud- that the ability to respond to homosexual stimuli is a universal biological capacity. It is therefore an interesting irony that Kinsey used this statement as a preface to the most definitive, categorical and 'scientific' study of human sexuality to date. Kinsey's very study and the much overused finding that 10% of the adult male population of the United States is homosexual can only serve to reinforce the assumption that the homosexual and the heterosexual are discrete and indeed different beings 7. It should be no surprise then that in the climate of social turbulence that dominated the western industrial world of the late 1960's, that species identified, minutely scrutinized, and duly classified found the opportunity to speak for itself and the homosexual liberation movement was born. The rest of this chapter will be concerned with tracing the genealogy of that movement.
The emerging homosexual movement in the early 70's readily appropriated the findings of Freud, Kinsey and a legion of other 'scientists of sexuality' and actively worked at cultivating the image of the homosexual as a distinct individual. Homosexual activists did emphasise same sex preference as an identifying feature of an individual's personality. The word 'gay' was reified as a term locating in society those individuals who were proudly self identified as homosexual. The original intention of the appropriation of 'gay' was that it was a) a label chosen by homosexuals themselves, not something forced upon them by outside (usually hostile) forces, b) it was a deliberate attempt to foster an image that the homosexual could be proud of, providing both an , identity of which to be proud rather than ashamed, as well as a focal point for collective identity, and c) it was a pointed rejection of the negative value laden, pseudo-scientific label homosexual, which always defined the homosexual as inferior and deviant to the norm, heterosexuality.
31 If the turbulent milieu of the late 60's provided the mise en scene within which the fledgling gay liberation movement could strut, then where did that movement suddenly spring from? Where had those people so suddenly emerged when previously it could be safely assumed in conservative Menzies era Australia that such acts were only committed by vulgar habitues of a mysterious demimonde... certainly not in the vicinity of 'decent' neighbourhoods. Demographic changes such as more young men leaving home before marriage and living close to the city, social changes such as changing of hotel opening hours and the abolition of the 'six o'clock swill', increasing standards of living -especially for the post war baby boom generation of the sixties, rapid growth of car ownership among this new consumer population (what Garry Wotherspoon humorously tags the 'mobile bedroom', (Wotherspoon; 1991). There seemed to be a general atmosphere of 'liberation' that characterised the 1960's ... the counter culture, women's liberation, sexual liberation, human rights as a political concern and ultimately homosexuality as a 'human' concern. These were the key events to the unlocking of the bulging 'closet door', out of which -chrysalis like- a startling number of homosexuals were preparing to emerge, or 'come out' as the process became popularly known, in their new and proud gay identity. Chapter 3(b) will deal more specifically with the genealogy of the Sydney gay subculture.
STONEWALL: Late June, 1969, a gay bar in New York city called the Stonewall was raided by police -allegedly this was a familiar response by the NYPD to the failure of the proprietors of gay bars to pay extortion- arrests were made, patrons were harassed ... nothing new about this, similar police action was common not only in the gay bars of New York and other cities around the U.S., but in similar bars around the western world (Wotherspoon; 1991). The difference at the Stonewall raid was that for the first time, the police met substantial resistance when the packed crowd in the Stonewall on that humid summer night erupted and rioted in response to the unprovoked attack by the police. It was in this event (running battles between police and the patrons of the Stonewall continued over several nights) that the long existing but habitually invisible gay subculture stood up to be identified and refused to be oppressed any longer. This act of resistance stands as the symbolic birth of gay liberation and has been commemorated in gay pride rallies across the United States and in many other cities around the world ever since. As will be discussed in chapter 4, the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras traces its roots back to the ninth Stonewall day anniversary commemorative rally of 1978.
32 If the Stonewall rebellion marks day one of the gay rights social movement, this should not obscure the activities of various homosexual law reform societies who were operating on a very low key level in a very homophobic Australian society during the late1960's. Homosexual law reform societies were founded in Sydney and Canberra in 1969. These organisations were primarily middle class, ostensibly heterosexual, and civil rights oriented. Their operations were polite, tepid excursions into law reform conducted on a largely abstract and intellectual level, without ever having recourse to public association with homosexual people (Wotherspoon; 1991).
To identify oneself as being openly homosexual and proud of it in Australia during the 60's took remarkable courage indeed. The first Australian lesbian political organisation, the Daughters of Bilitis (named after the American organisation of the same name) was created in Melbourne in 1970. The formation of the Campaign Against Moral Persecution (CAMP) Australia's first co-sexual gay lib. organisation occurred in the same year and gained early notoriety for simply openly proclaiming pride in their homosexuality on national televisions. Australia's first ever gay lib. demonstration took place outside the Liberal Party headquarters on October 8, 1971 as a protest against the blatant homophobic comments made by the liberal candidate for preselection to the federal seat of Berowra (French; 1986). CAMP established the first gay publication (CAMP INK) in 1970 using rudimentary printing technology a circulation of only 200 and employing the distinctive 'underground' media style that was popular with alternative and radical organisations at the time (CAMP INK; March, 1971). 22 years later the market for gay literature is thriving, with two national gay magazines (CAMPAIGN and OUTRAGE), numerous local publications servicing every major city in Australia, a booming X rated magazine and video industry, Gay radio programmes on FM stations in every capital city, and now the fledgling QUEER TV (part of the recently developed Community Access Television) has extended gay mass communications across all mediums (CAMPAIGN, Jan, 1993; OUTRAGE, Feb, 1993; QUEER TV, Feb, 1993).
The creation of QUEER TV in 1990 -although suffering from chronic funding shortage, limited access to equipment and broadcast time, restricted broadcasting rights and a limited pool of TV production expertise- is an exciting new development in Australian gay media. The only program specific to gay and lesbian issues currently screening on mainstream Sydney television is the largely overseas produced series, OUT (SBS, Wednesday, 10:00pm). QUEER TV offers the gay and lesbian community the potential to expand its own cultural production into the largest and most dominant entertainment media currently existing in Australia. This is a logical and important step
33 to take if the spirit of community is to be consolidated. To function effectively, a community must be able to control the means of production of its own culture across all mediums. Chapter 5 will analyse the repercussion implicit in the appropriation of the tools of cultural production in greater detail.
Garry Wotherspoon, a prominent historian of homosexuality in Australia has described the establishment of CAMP in 1970; "A political group based around sexual orientation (which) was something new for Australia."(Wotherspoon; 1991, p.169,). The personal -and in fact what was considered by the overwhelming majority of the Australian population in 1968 as the indecently personal- had truly become political (Wotherspoon; 1991, p.164). This shift in Australian politics corresponded with a movement away from class based politics toward more specifically interest based issues, also among which were the feminist movement, nuclear disarmament and ecology, all of which transcended class interests in favour of unilateral support for an issue that was considered more important and more relevant to contemporary society than the tired and hackneyed rhetoric of class based politics. Having said this, it must be acknowledged that initially at least, the overwhelming support for all of these new social/political movements came from the first wave of baby boom children of the burgeoning post war middle class; a class comprising younger, better educated individuals who sensed both the need for fundamental, radical political change and their own propensity to bring it about. Prominent veteran activist Lex Watson has commented on the time; "The gay liberation movement in Australia in 1970-71 grew out of the political left; it did not grow out of the gay (essentially gay male) subculture. It grew out of a political analysis, not from a subcultural need." (Watson; 1988, p.12- 13).
The traditional liberal democratic process was seen to be bloated, out of touch with the 'real' needs of the community and in need of radical transformation. This new trend in political expression -stereotyped by the media as the 'counter-culture'- was termed radical at the time, but seen now in some historical perspective, it is easy to chart the early evaporation of counter-cultural radical idealism in favour of the more organised, focussed and self interested politics characteristic of the contemporary social movement. It has frequently been observed that the passage of radical gay activism into a more mellow gay rights social movement in Australia mirrors the ageing of the activists originally responsible for delivering the gay liberation message back in the 'radical' early 1970's; "Gay politics, once a matter of zaps, demonstrations and coming out, was becoming more and more a matter of lobbying, raising money and courting powerful friends." (Altman; 1989, p.36).
34 Another prominent Australian gay scholar and activist, Dennis Altman, has spent much of his academic career charting the emergence of a gay identity and of gay movements, both in the USA and Australia. Reflecting on earlier definitions of the gay liberation movement he emphasised the crucial point made in chapter 2(a), that all movements must embody from the start a dual rhetoric by addressing "both (its) own community and the larger society using both integrationist and separatist rhetoric, depending on its audience."(Altman; 1989, p.30). Altman identifies the emergence of gay activism in the United States as the model which has been copied in other western nations around the world. Australian gay activism has trodden the same path from the radicalism of the early 1970's to the election of openly gay aldermen and parliamentarians at the local, state and federal levels of government. Public figures such as New South Wales Labor MLC Paul O'Grady, and Queens Counsel barrister John Marsden (Secretary of the NSW Council for Civil Liberties) have done a lot in recent years to create a visible, legitimate, and 'respectable' gay presence as a political force in the mainstream Australian community. However, the influence of these public figures is more symbolic than actual at the present time; the more immediate power of the Australian gay movement currently resides in the numerous and diverse lobby and action groups such as the Gay and Lesbian Law Reform Society and the Gay and Lesbian Rights Lobby, which I shall argue, represent very particular interests within a broader discourse of human rights shared by all contemporary social movements.
COMING OUT: It is fair to say that the primary emphasis of pre AIDS gay politics centred around the need of homosexual people to openly proclaim their same gender sex preference, and that gay activism was striving toward building an environment in which those people who were trapped, or hiding their presumed 'deviant' sexuality could come out with honesty, pride and dignity, and maintain their self respect and confidence in their new identity as a gay person. The homosexual subculture as will be illustrated in chapter 3(b) was, before Stonewall very much a hidden society. Sydney 'camp' culture was alive and well, but even most of those who comprised that culture were embarrassed or ashamed of their sexuality and certainly few were prepared to openly admit to being homosexual (Wotherspoon; 1991). The very process of standing up and publicly proclaiming ones homosexuality thus became -understandably- the radical basis for the gay liberation movement. Radical because it was at the time about as far from the perceived norm as one could get and liberating because once the secret was out, the burden of guilt and shame was replaced by the relief and the excitement of being openly gay. In this sense, the personal was most certainly political and gay liberation was a loud, radical, fringe movement. In this crucial early definition of gay
35 liberation, the 'closet' was identified as the locus of homosexual political activism. It has continued to shape most gay and lesbian activism ever since.
SOME CONTEMPORARY GAY AND LESBIAN RIGHTS ISSUES:
On November 28, 1992, a rally was staged on the steps of Sydney town hall, campaigning on behalf of a coalition of gay and lesbian activist groups, all of whom share interests in the removal of discrimination against gay men and lesbians. The rally, entitled "All I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS" was attended by several thousand people, including senior party members of both the New South Wales Liberal and Labor parties. In the mounting anticipation of the passing of legislation which will outlaw the vilification of homosexuals under the NSW anti discrimination act, the following statement of claims was delivered to the government:
SUPERANNUATION; The legal right of gay couples to nominate their partners as beneficiaries.
DONOR INSEMINATION SERVICES; The right of lesbian women to access to donor insemination programmes.
HOUSING; A call for legislation against landlords who discriminate against gay tenants. Also, for the department of Housing to build small units in the inner city to specifically cater for those in the gay community who need government housing assistance, especially those living with HIV/AIDS, who need to be close to hospital services and carers.
EQUAL AGE OF CONSENT; Girls in NSW have the legal right to have sex at 16, but gay men do not until 18.
PARTNERSHIP BENEFITS FOR LESBIAN AND GAY RELATIONSHIPS; Recognition of legal de facto status for long term gay relationships.
DENTAL CARE; Access to dental services and practitioners who don't treat patients as if they are HIV positive or suffering Ams9.
Early 70's gay lib. may well have been loud, radical and fringe, but the gay and lesbian rights social movement most certainly is not. Any movement that can claim state parliamentarians and Queens Counsel barristers among its ranks cannot
36 legitimately also claim to be a radical or fringe element of society. However, if the gay lib activists of 1970 were loud, they are nothing compared to the volume of noise generated by the gay rights movement today. Professional, influential and decidedly middle class are more appropriate adjectives to describe the movement now. If we can identify a gay rights social movement according to the criteria specified in the first half of chapter 2, and we can discern its pedigree in the radical activism of gay liberation, we must find a context for that movement, initially by asking who does the movement represent? Wotherspoon states that what is known as the gay community or subculturelO is only representative of a minority of those individuals in our society who are to a greater or lesser degree homoerotically inclined. Using the old Kinsey benchmark as a guide, if Sydney has a population of approximately 3.5 million people, of that 10 percent who we assume must participate in some form of homosexual encounters, by far the greater fraction of those 350 000 people remain hidden, unidentified as lesbian/gay, unrepresented by the gay community and most likely, having very limited contact (outside of the sexual) with the social world of the gay and lesbian Sydney subculture. Perhaps one reason is that in a multicultural city such as Sydney, some ethnic cultures may have established their own homosexual social network. Another problematic is the question of where to place those others in Kinsey's 46% of adult males who at some stage in their life engage in homoerotic activity, but who definitely do not identify themselves as being homosexual (Kinsey; 1968, p.656)11 .
It is important to bear factors like this in mind when considering the question of gay identity. Gay rights social movements do not necessarily defend (or perhaps I should say do not only defend) the individual's right to engage in certain forms of legally proscribed illicit behaviour12, they champion the cause of a specific type of person who has identified him or herself with that type, and in doing so becomes separate from all others who do not identify with that type. These are the people that the gay rights social movement(s) overwhelmingly represent. This population, as a discrete vocal minority is not at all the same as, and in no way represents the interests of the larger percentage of individuals in Australian society who engage in homoerotic behaviour and who, for whatever reason do not identify as gay or lesbian. Although the process of coming out is still a radical, political and deeply personal achievement, the same cannot be said for the movement which long ago lost its political virginity and nowadays constitutes a powerful and hardened minority interest. In those states which have legalised homosexual acts between consenting adults, the personal has to a very large degree ceased to be political 13.
37 One of the central objectives of this thesis is to show how the Mardi Gras acted as a bonding agent between the early political gay liberation organisations and the existing homosexual subculture, to the extent that the organisations that can now be said to comprise the gay rights social movement almost exclusively represent only the rights of those people who identify as gay or lesbian, and who also identify as belonging to the gay and lesbian community. Gay and lesbian rights has become synonymous with gay and lesbian community. Chapter 5 will concentrate on analysing this nexus and criticising the rationale of the contemporary gay and lesbian rights movement.
A major stumbling block in the discourse of any so called liberatory organisation is identifying exactly who it is one is liberating. Naturally the leaders of the cause are true believers and not afraid to leap boldly into the fray, but is it their responsibility to drag those less adventurous (or less inclined) after them? Should they even bother? My thesis revolves around the assumption that gay rights social movements do not represent persons who participate in homoerotic activity, but those who participate in gay rights activity; who are by definition, already openly gay. In the finest neo Marxist 'revolutionary' tradition, is it the role of the gay rights movements to liberate those repressed souls 'out there' so that they may come out freely and join the gay and lesbian community? It is my contention that the gay rights movement long ago abandoned the individual wrestling with his/her sexuality, in favour of representing the 'new' rights of those persons who have already made the choice to identify as lesbian/gay.
This shift in focus represents the watershed between the 1970's radical politics of gay liberation and gay rights as a social movement. The movement ceased to be radical when it abandoned its identification with the individual in favour of identification as a movement. Inevitably this happens when homosexual acts between consenting adults are legalised, thereby legitimating the existence in law of the homosexual as a type of person. This act must be opposed to the possible liberation of the homosexual from the constraints of law, by removing from the statutes all reference to sexual acts specifically identified as homosexual. The homosexual remains a discrete being in law -an other albeit now a legally protected species.
A social movement, as defined earlier in chapter 2 signifies a body of people confident of their position in society who wish to use their position to influence that society and facilitate change. The forum for this process of change is overwhelmingly located within the institutions of liberal democratic politics; parliament and the judiciary. A movement cannot represent individuals because it must have the strength of a group backing it, and that group must be confident of its identity before it can even
38 begin to activate the process of reform in the society around it. Suffice to say that the gay identity is a foregone conclusion in Australian society; it is no longer a matter of debate in gay rights circles about claiming legitimacy for their identity, but of claiming the rights that are due to that identity. Gay men and lesbians are now legitimate personalities. As specific types of people they have distinct rights and legislation which defines them as a species apart from the heterosexual. The species that Foucault identified as being created in the nineteenth century has now created its own society within a society. This is the construction of the closet to which the title of my thesis refers.
As much as gay liberation emphasised coming out as the most significant achievement of the self proclaimed homosexual, so too the gay rights social movement identifies every new piece of legislation specifically outlining the rights of gay men and lesbians as another victory. I see it as another bar in the cage; every law that defines the rights of the homosexual as a separate person from the heterosexual (who is still constitutionally assumed to be both the dominant and the norm) further reinforces the homosexual's minority status and further imprisons them in their own gilded cage. If gay and lesbian reform lobbyists succeed in pushing anti discrimination legislation through the parliaments of New South Wales and ultimately, Australia, will this mean the inevitable disintegration of the gay subculture as it osmotically diffuses throughout the mainstream community? I don't think so. It is my contention that with every new piece of legislation passed, that species called the homosexual becomes more clearly defined and the social division between gay and straight people increases. Far from suggesting that in some Utopian future everybody will realise their innate Freudian bisexuality, I am merely questioning whether it should be the intention of gay rights movements to liberate society by working toward a society in which each individual is free to make their own sexual object choice, or to pursue an elitist, exclusionary and ultimately divisive policy of ensuring better conditions for its subscribing members only; those who identify as belonging to the gay and lesbian community.
The importance of the spirit of capitalism and the growth of the 'pink' economy during the 1980's must be acknowledged when studying the construction of gay identity in Australia (Galbraith; 1990). Many radical gay activists of the 70's bemoaned the encroachment on the movement of entrepreneurs, who they saw as merely cashing in on the fledgling movement. Wotherspoon argues that the contrary was the case and that it was through small businesses directly targeting a market that initially they only presumed existed (that of the gay man as being unique and possessing special needs) that a strong gay (male) identity was formed (Wotherspoon; 1991). Initially, there
39 existed a great deal of antipathy between the radicals who fronted the movement and the denizens of the subcultural demimonde, who preferred to remain discrete and closeted, fearing reprisals such as violence, extortion and exposure. But it must not be forgotten that in a capitalist society, legitimation comes through the accumulation of capital. It is no surprise at all that the gay rights social movement has grown from strength to strength closely mirroring the exponential growth of the pink economy. To say which came first is perhaps a futile exercise because neither could have made the advances that they have without the existence of the other. What is more fruitful is analysing the transformation of both the gay lib movement and the gay subculture from one of mutual hostility, to detente and on to symbiosis under the auspices of the gay and lesbian community. Nothing has done more to further this synthesis in Sydney particularly, but also Australia in general than the annual Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras. Not only is it the largest public display of gay and lesbian community in Australia, but it is among the largest gay parades (with the emphasis decidedly placed on celebration) in the world. Chapter 4 will deal with the transformation of Mardi Gras from protest march to community event and the pivotal role played by Mardi Gras in the very construction of that community.
MARDI GRAS AS A VEHICLE FOR A SOCIAL MOVEMENT: Every year Mardi Gras seems to increase its physical presence and its cultural prestige through mainstream media exposure. News broadcasts, current affairs programmes, popular magazines ... the 1993 parade was featured in live 'crosses' on the popular channel nine family programme HEY HEY ITS SATURDAY 14. It really does seem like it will only be a matter of years before the parade is telecast live in its entirety on a commercial network. According to one Sydney gay community newspaper the SYDNEY STAR OBSERVER (SSO; Nov, 92) the Mardi Gras Association was involved late last year in negotiations with a media production company for the sale of rights to broadcast live the 1993 parade. Does this then mean that what started as a radical protest march in the back streets of Darlinghurst in 1978 has gained acceptance as a part of mainstream Sydney culture?
Mainstream, in a media specific context is defined by Larry Gross as "a relative commonality of outlooks and values that television tends to cultivate in viewers."(Gross; 1991, p.23). ls the Mardi Gras as a TV event a sign of the growing acceptance of homosexuality (or of gay and lesbian identified people) in Sydney/Australian society? If this is so, has the Mardi Gras achieved its objective of spreading the word of gay pride to the homophobic masses? I want to look at how the intentions and messages behind the staging of Mardi Gras have changed over the years;
40 from the early protest marches which were overtly confrontational and political, to the celebration of gay pride, through to the cultural event and on to a multi media carnival in which the original agents seem to have lost their own parade. Mardi Gras made a deliberate and self conscious transformation in 1981 from protest march to parade, but yet, the ghost of the spirit of protest is still very much imbued in the ethos of the parade. If Mardi Gras is seen as largely being a festive occasion today, it is still on the understanding that the protest is not over, the personal is still political and the 'good fight' continues. What were the intentions behind this deliberate transformation and how successful has it been?
As it has grown, Mardi Gras has become more professional; it has become slick and commercial in the sense that it is user friendly both for the live spectator and the home viewer. The 1990's Mardi Gras parade is a neatly packaged, highly saleable commodity. Many in the gay and lesbian community have in recent years felt isolated from the parade, claiming that its very size has made it impersonal, alienating and unrepresentative of the very people and issues that it was initially intended for15. Precariously juggling the twin roles of social movement and community event, it does seem at times as if the Mardi Gras itself is suffering a personality crisis. Certainly the Mardi Gras Association is constantly harangued by disgruntled community members who feel that their interests are not being served 16.
Those who make such claims are accusing the Mardi Gras Association of ignoring the issues relevant to gay peoples' lives, that the Mardi Gras as a social movement was always intended to address. But can the Association really be blamed for any perceived reduction in Mardi Gras' effectiveness as a vehicle for the delivery of social messages? Hasn't Mardi Gras actually gained so much more in terms of raising the visibility of gay culture in the mainstream by trading protest for celebration? Hasn't it reflected the change in the movement itself, as I argued before, from the personal liberation to the collective legitimation? As it grows even larger and the full commercial potential of the parade is realised, how long can the Mardi Gras Association retain its control over the event without simultaneously losing contact with the 'little people' in the gay community? Think of TV rights, the commercialisation of the floats 17, and associated industries such as tourism which benefit but do not contribute; a glance through the 1993 Mardi Gras programme will show the full extent of the commercialisation of the event this year. Another glance at the recently completed Mardi Gras Environmental Impact Study18 will reveal just how large Mardi Gras has grown as a cultural event.
41 When the parade is finally telecast live, corporate sponsorship will be inevitable and the Mardi Gras Association will be forced to operate in an environment that would seem anathema to the ethos of a social movement l 9. I don't think anyone would argue with the observation that Mardi Gras long since ceased to be simply or primarily the vehicle for the expression of a social movement, but given the trend toward a bigger, more commercial event, is it possible that in years to come, Mardi Gras will not represent gay and lesbian rights at all? Where will be the interests of the gay community once this occurs? Is this part of an inevitable evolution from the radically personal, through the liberal collective, and on to the commercial cultural extravaganza? Perhaps the tone of Mardi Gras will inevitably take on shades of the ANZAC day memorial march, in which, after the going down of the sun, we all remember those heroes of the gay crusades? Can corporate sponsorship be combined with a social movement a'la the failed PLAYBOY sponsorship deal, or will they remain strange bedfellows? Once the Mardi Gras is co-opted to the lure of commercialism, will this signal the end, or the completion of the aims of the gay rights movement? How is Mardi Gras, once so elemental to the construction of the gay and lesbian community now paradoxically splitting it? These are the questions that must be answered if one is to construct a genealogy of the role of Mardi Gras in the creation of the Sydney gay and Lesbian community. These are the questions that will be answered in chapter 4 when I map the evolution of Mardi Gras from protest to spectacle.
Gay movement, gay subculture, gay community; undoubtedly these terms do possess unique and individual identities, and similarly, they mean different things to different people. With this in mind it becomes rather tricky to talk of an event such as Mardi Gras in political terms as the representation of one particular lifestyle or a united expression of gay pride, when that unity is in fact questionable at best and perhaps even non existent. Again we are faced with a dual rhetoric; gay rights movements fight for legislative recognition for all gay men and lesbians, whilst within the community gay identity takes on a multiplicity of hues, attitudes, tastes and beliefs. Not only is gay identity a source for much debate and definition within the community, but the objectives and perspectives of various elements of the gay movements, subcultures, communities and unaligned individuals differ considerably. What I have been somewhat glibly calling the gay rights social movement comprises a number of lobby groups, reformists, activists, etc, all articulating quite distinct and often competing, or conflicting discourses. But is this not simply a part of 'growing up'? If homosexuality is to become accepted within the mainstream as a lifestyle or as a part of an individual's life then it is inevitable that a myriad of divergent and conflicting ideas will splinter off the original eruption of gay culture over the past 20 years. To this extent, Mardi Gras
42 may even in time lose much of its 'gayness' as it becomes less important as a vehicle for the delivery of a gay pride message and in fact, as many of those individuals and interest groups affiliated with Mardi Gras in its early years seek to distance themselves from what will seemingly become a more commercialised and more carnivalesque festival.
AIDS AND GAY RIGHTS SOCIAL MOVEMENTS: If Mardi Gras has been the single most important venue for the creation of a gay and lesbian community, tying together the disparate elements of movement and subculture, then nothing has motivated those people from all aspects of gay life to unite more than AIDS. Dennis Altman said of AIDS that it "has both strengthened and weakened the gay community, placing new demands on its already over-stretched institutions but also giving it access to new resources and leading it to make demands on government of a quite different order from those of the past."(Altman; 1989, p.36). From support groups, to research funding, to political lobbying and education campaigns and back to radical protest (ACTUP and QUEER NATION), AIDS has had the paradoxical effect of focussing the power of the gay rights movement and raising consciousness of gay related issues in the greater community, whilst simultaneously decimating that same community.
It was partially in response to the threat that AIDS represented to the gay male subculture that the Mardi Gras was transformed from a radical protest to a celebratory march of gay pride back in the early l 980's. The parade was then used as a venue at which the antagonistic elements of the gay subculture -the activists, the commercial interests, and those who preferred to remain in the closet- could come together as a demonstration of solidarity both among themselves and to project an image of dignity to the straight community. Lex Watson has said; "AIDS has consequently rewritten the gay male political script in a way that nothing else has. Perhaps one could argue that the Mardi Gras in Sydney as a gay community event, has come closest to this far reaching impact, but AIDS has a very particular resonance."(Watson; 1988, p.13).
The antagonism generated by the polarisation of conservative moral crusaders and the greatly bolstered gay activist movement so effectively (and culpably) perpetrated by the mass media thrust the causes of the gay rights movement into the limelight as they had never experienced before. Gay activists were able to exploit this increased interest (even though it was largely inspired by fear) and use their skills honed through 15 years of activism to broaden the media platform from which to deliver their messages of awareness, tolerance, acceptance and equality of gay men and women. In the words of Watson; "AIDS made gay activism respectable."(Watson; 1988, p.13).
43 Whilst some ground hard won during the 70's may have been lost in the initial media inspired hysteria, the skilled use of lobbying, steady reasoned argument and increasingly, government sponsored media advertising campaigns has broken further and deeper into the consciousness of mainstream society than ever before. At the first gay community outreach dinner on 23/6/87 which brought together "venue owners, entertainers, politicos, gay media representatives and members of many community groups"(SSO; 26/6/87), the president of ACON stated; "Looking to the future back in 1984, many of us thought that such a dinner of community and business leaders as we are attending tonight was not likely to be happening. We thought that the fabric of the community might have begun to unravel, that some businesses would have closed, or been closed by the government and community organisations and perhaps even Mardi Gras might have collapsed."{SSO 26/6/87, p.1) AIDS brought the community together and Mardi Gras provided the stage on which they could strut. Central to my thesis is the acknowledgement of the coalescence of power generated between the AIDS epidemic and Mardi Gras (the premier statement of gay pride in Australia) as the motivating factor behind the construction of the Sydney gay and lesbian community. However, due to the necessary restrictions implicit in the construction of a masters thesis, I have chosen to concentrate exclusively on one of these two factors; the role of the Mardi Gras. To adequately deal with the role that AIDS has played in the construction of the Sydney gay and lesbian community would be another thesis again. My cursory analysis of AIDS in this context is regrettably deliberate.
For all that AIDS managed in a tragic way to bring the gay and lesbian community together, it is still dubious that the Mardi Gras has ever been a united expression of gay and lesbian pride, with all those who walk under its mantle shouting with one voice. Gay pride as a slogan may be the united message, but the plethora of other smaller messages being paraded (often conflicting with one another quite jarringly) must indicate that this is an uneasy alliance at best. The most obvious fault line lies across the division of the sexes. Mardi Gras has been an important venue for the forging of the coalition between gay men and lesbians in recent years. A deliberate and self conscious attempt to create a spirit of coalition and co-sexual community has characterised Mardi Gras in recent years, as the name change in 1989 from the Sydney Gay Mardi Gras to the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras indicates. Throughout the 70's, what had started as a co-sexual alliance in CAMP saw a deepening rift develop between gay men and women, with more and more lesbians feeling estranged from the gay lib movement, which they perceived as being identified with the stereotypical 'macho' male image, and gay men were perceived to be as misogynistic and ignorant of the rights of women as
44 were 'all' heterosexual men. Lesbians in the 70's and early 80's tended to align themselves with the women's movement before the gay movement (O'Sullivan; 1993, p.103); a popular lesbian slogan of the time (graffitied on numerous walls around Sydney) was 'feminism is the theory, lesbianism is the practice.'
Mardi Gras was always intended to bridge the gap between gay men and lesbians, and in fact 50% of those arrested in the first Mardi Gras of 1978 were women20. However, it wasn't until the late 80's that lesbians really started to identify with the gay rights movement and with Mardi Gras in particular. An increasing dissatisfaction with the stagnation and complacency of feminist politics saw lesbians increasingly drift back into the gay movement in search of a forum for the delivery of their political message. The name change of Mardi Gras and of many activist groups such as the Gay and Lesbian Law Reform Group signifies an increasing willingness of lesbians to identify as a part of a united gay and lesbian community and of a desire on the part of a traditionally 'discreet' subculture to become more visible. It also signifies an identification by gay men of the similarity of (political) interest that they share with lesbians and the mutual benefits to be gained from coalition.
The increasing involvement of lesbians in Mardi Gras has not however occurred without some grumbles of dissatisfaction among certain quarters of the gay male subculture. There have been many distressed claims about the 'lesbianisation' of Mardi Gras21 and it is interesting to note the shift in the gender demographics of Mardi Gras (more of which will be described in chapter 4.) The 1993 Mardi Gras Association board is presided over by a lesbian and lesbians hold 6 of the 14 positions on the board. However, coalition politics is still very tenuous and the claim to community by the gay and lesbian community still a bit nebulous. Gay publications tend to cater in one direction or the other, with very few paying more than lip service to the existence of the 'other' side of the community. Gay male and lesbian entertainment venues and support services tend to be separate also, which begs the question; why should a community base itself around something as specific and personal as a same gender sex preference? Chapters 3 and 5 will study these questions in greater detail and examine the theoretical problems behind the constitution of a gay and lesbian community.
How long can the gay and lesbian rights movement (the originators of Mardi Gras, and still symbolically represented as a movement expressing one message of gay pride during the parade) hold together under the aegis of Mardi Gras? Mardi Gras has had to grow beyond the strictly definitional 'protest element' of the social movement. If its aim is to express the richness and diversity of contemporary gay and lesbian life, then it
45 must offer more than the bickering and righteous indignation inherent to the social movement...which it presently does with some considerable style. As with all communities, the gay and lesbian community is alive with personalities, ideas and a multitude of voices that may or may not equally comfortably fall under the rubric of protest, but all of whom are self identified -to some extent- as lesbian/gay and all of whom seek a venue that is both supportive of their expression and increasingly, powerful enough to challenge a wider audience beyond the confines of the community. This is the function that Mardi Gras has the potential to fulfil.
Protest as a form of political expression was part of the radical ethos of the times that inspired gay liberation in the first place; the late 60's, early 70's ... from women's lib. to black activism, to anti Vietnam rallies and the formation of the counter culture. Due to the changed environment of the l 990's, that form of political expression is out of favour with the current movers and shakers in gay and lesbian rights activism and has been deemed inappropriate today. The discursive foundation of gay rights activism has undergone a subtle shift, from 'emancipation' to 'empowerment'. This study is about describing how in a changing social and political climate a different expression of gay and lesbian pride has emerged, voicing particular claims unique to the present time, but essentially founded on the same language that defined gay liberation 20 years ago. How has Mardi Gras reflected that change? Beyond this mere descriptive function, I will endeavour to reveal the numerous voices (mine among them) that are now questioning both whether that language itself is appropriate to the expression of individual sexual identity in the l 990's and whether it is not time to move back to the sexual radicalism that characterised gay liberation in the first place.
As gay and lesbian coalition politics becomes more conservative, many in the community feel that their interests are no longer represented by the 'voices' of that community. Mardi Gras as one of the principle voices of the community should theoretically reflect the clamour and the challenging new positions being articulated by groups known presently -if somewhat vaguely- as Queer, transexual/gender fluid, sex radical, SIM, and that old catch-all, bisexual. It is important to question whether changes in Mardi Gras over the years have been an accurate reflection of those changes in personal and community identity. My work intends to show how the gay and lesbian community and the Mardi Gras are growing up in public, and offer some speculation on the future of both. The politics of liberation in the 60's and 70's has shifted; liberation is no longer a political goal in the 1990's, but it has in recent years re-emerged as a more personal goal. Mardi Gras can reflect this diversity in a radical display not merely in the preciously cloistered confines of the month long festival, but in the parade as well. The
46 gay and lesbian rights social movement has also in a sense grown up and has grown into the liberal democratic political system. The various organisations that comprise the movement are no longer considered radical by either themselves or any but the most conservative politicians. They are seeking and gaining respect. The main question I wish to address is, are they seeking and gaining the right sort of respect?
47 CHAPTER3 COMMUNITY: a) Community theories, the creation of subculture, the relation between subculture and community.
The 'quest for community' has been identified as one of the fundamental themes of 20th century industrial society (Nisbet; 1960). In a society increasingly characterised in the negative terms of alienation, spectacle and the implosion of meaning in communications (Debord; 1977, Baudrillard, 1983), popularly associated with postmodem theory, the search for the spirit of community has taken new forms. The gay and lesbian community is one prime example; a community based around the collective identification of self through a preference for same gender sexuality. The spirit of this community is located in the identification of a specifically different sexuality from what is considered the norm, and a wish to share that identification with other like minded individuals. A community based along these lines crosses many of the traditional boundaries that previously defined community, such as geography, class, religion, and race. In a culturally heterogeneous society in which those clear distinctions have to a certain extent become blurred, the individual now seeks the spirit of community in other forms.
If defining the parameters of a social movement was hard, then doing the same for community is made all the more difficult because every individual has their own preconceived notion of exactly what constitutes a community. Those preconceptions tend to be vague, cloaked in nostalgia and only ever half articulated, and yet the yearning for community seems to be so strong in all of us that it lies in a bizarre juxtaposition to the inadequacy of the sociologist's attempts to define that feeling. Like social movements also, there seem to be as many definitions of the concept community as there are communities themselves ... or sociologists studying them. Introductory sociological texts invariably preface any study of community with the assertion that defining community is difficult AND that it is one of the most overused, cliched terms in sociology today (Giddens; 1989, Worsley; 1978). Part of the problem in defining community lies in the structure of our language, which forces us to make clear distinctions, associate single nouns with what are invariably complex relations and to create objects out of living, breathing, subjective beings. Such is the case with words such as homosexual and community.
As the basis for a discursive theoretical construct, both of these are uniquely modem concepts and it is no surprise that the two ultimately found themselves joined together in the last quarter of the 20th century. The modem obsession with creating communities
48 reflects an epistemological tendency to construct boundaries and limits, in an attempt to define that which was previously perceived to be vague (Foucault; 1978). So, just as sexuality was divided up in the 19th century, so too our social relations are continually being corralled. Rationality is about dividing, defining and exploration. As our behaviour is the manifestation of these endeavours, so our language is its formal expression. Paradoxically, we are caught between the urge to pursue new frontiers and constantly extend the outer limits of our experience and the deeply personal longing for social interdependence that all of us seem to carry throughout our lives. In a rapidly changing social environment, the object of that longing may change, but the feeling itself seems to remain constant. After the family, the community is the first interface between the individual and the mass of modern society, in all its magnitude and alienating, relentless intensity.
Defining community is at the heart of what sociology is all about. If the discipline of sociology arose as a response to the massive social upheavals precipitated by the industrial revolution, then one of its principle aims was to find a rational explanation for the transformations that occurred within and between traditional communities. Crittenden (1992) emphasises the sharing aspects of community, the sharing of a total way of life. This is reminiscent of what Ferdinand Tonnies -echoing Weber- proclaimed as "Gemeinschaft" (Tonnies; 1955). This is an organic social grouping that is centred around 'common life'.
Central to Tonnies' thesis was that all social relationships are created by human will. Contrasting Gemeinschaft (community) with "Gesellschaft" (the transitory and superficial), Tonnies decried the modem way of life as being that of a society and not a community. Crucial to Tonnies conception of gemeinschaft was the "metaphysical union of bodies in blood" and the bonds of "field and soil" (Tonnies; 1957, p.258). This overly sentimental depiction of the traditional community looks back with moist eyes on the 'halcyon days' when a man's labour was on the land and people defined themselves by the nature of their trade or craft. The crux of this approach can be characterised by the old adage 'blood is thicker than water.' This is certainly true, one can't choose one's relatives, but one can certainly question whether this is a good basis for a spirit of community! What is it in blood and soil that makes people think that they owe some sort of allegiance till death do they part? Is this turgid bond a sensible one for the formation of a community? Is sensibility a motivating factor in the formation of community? Surely in an ever changing environment one's community should also be flexible enough to adapt? That there is a deep seated longing in most people for that sense of belonging and identity that a community provides is -according to such
49 influential theorists as Weber and Tonnies- without question. One must assume then, that in a rational, modem society, it is possible to self-consciously create a community.
What remains then is to find a suitable basis on which to build that community. Where in the modem world Tonnies saw alienation and anomie, he was looking through the myopic eyes of a 19th century historian. He could not see the subtle changes in patterns of association and communal behaviour which were in the seminal stages of creating new communities.
Tonnies' rather overdismissive treatment of community in modem society lead him to make sweeping generalisations such as describing the whole of the middle ages as embodying the spirit of gemeinschaft and the whole of the modern age as gesselschaft. He also made the division clear between private (gemeinschaft) and public (gesselschaft) life. This type of general division encounters significant problems when a social group like the gay community is analysed. Where do we draw the line on what is private and what is public life? Surely a community based around a mutual sexual affiliation must be considered private, and yet that very affiliation has been made explicitly public by being specifically defined and regulated in legislation. However, having said this, there is considerable merit in an analytical construct of community which does distinguish between the life of the individual in public and the life of the individual in private. Gay community is both public AND private. The personal relations of individuals who move in those circles are private social arrangements; the social networks created through this interaction are communitarian in the gemeinschaft tradition, but the work of activist groups on the other hand is most definitely public, and the professional work of associations. Mardi Gras occupies a curious position in that it is both at once; it speaks with both the voice of community and association. For this reason (if the gay and lesbian community is to be accepted as a 'legitimate' community) I consider gemeinschaft and gesselschaft to be inappropriate terminology for describing the modem community in a pluralist liberal democratic society.
Like Tonnies, many sociologists lament the decline of community in western society, but I would say that they are just not looking for it in the right places. Just as 'tectonic' changes to the infrastructure of modem society have revolutionised the study of economics (from the early modem Keynesian model), so too many of our social relations have shifted. Certainly, community in the traditional sense -which evokes images of village squares, street fairs, comer stores and being on first name terms with the milkman- is not what it used to be. This is for a number of reasons, but perhaps the two most influential social changes over the past 50 years have been; a) mass media has put the individual in contact with the world and focussed our sights beyond strictly
50 parochial concerns, and b) Transport has improved, and the cost declined to such an extent that not only can the common person afford to use the many forms of transport now available, they cannot afford not to (Wotherspoon, 1991, p.149).
Perhaps nothing divided the traditional community more than the mass popularisation of the automobile. Fast, efficient and affordable, possession of a car meant that workers no longer had to live near their workplace, shoppers no longer had to rely on the corner store or make the trek into the city to shop. Many of the environments for fostering the spirit of geographic community were broken by these developments. Similarly though, they have been the most important in facilitating the development of new communities such as the gay community, by disseminating information to people who may have been cut off, or felt that they were alone in harbouring their 'peculiar' proclivities. Likewise, possession of a car allows one the freedom to pursue the venues for those activities that may not have been available in one's home community for whatever reason. I take the view that the traditional geographic community was as much a prison as a source of comfort and identity. The bonds of blood and soil act as much to entrap the individual as they serve to unite the community. Nationalism, racial prejudice, the 'tyranny of conformity' and parochial xenophobia can all be identified in the structure of the traditional community.
The spirit of community is alive and well, but the basis for the formation of community has been radically altered. This does not mean that the geographic element is not still important, or that the community in whatever form does not still tyrannise the individual into conformity. A glance at any minority community in Australia will reveal the existence of a well defined ghetto, as well as all the prejudices, fear, and (to a much lesser extent) isolation as the traditional geographic community. The fundamental difference however -especially regarding communities such as Sydney's gay and lesbian community- is that the individual is not born into that community, s/he chooses to move there. Later in this chapter I will be discussing how the discourse of community, like the discourse of sexuality has not changed as the shape of community has changed; The epistemological structure of these discursive systems remains beneath the superficial changes of geography, class, race, gender or sexuality (Foucault; 1978); it is all part of the same unfolding of the episteme. The spirit of community remains much the same as it was 100 years ago, but it manifests itself in different ways.
LIBERAL VS COMMUNITARIAN COMMUNITY THEORY:
51 These theories are characteristically portrayed in dialectical opposition and have dominated most scholarship on community over the last 50 years:
LIBERAL: Individualistic, "stresses the individual as the logical prius of all forms of social life and seeing at the basis of all social experience contract and not habit, reason and not tradition." (Plant; 1974, p.34).
COMMUNITARIAN: Stresses "rootedness, a sense oflocality, identity of interests, fraternity and a cooperation and a sense of identity communally mediated." (Plant; 1974, p.34).
To counterpose these two theories is symptomatic of the epistemology of modem rationality; the dualistic separation of ideas and social structures into opposing, antagonistic forces that was best defined in the Hegelian dialectic. I will argue that if we look beyond, or outside of the two dimensional plane of this process of analysis, we can identify a logic which encapsulates both seemingly opposing ideas/forces in one meta discursive structure. It is important to recognise in this particular instance, that in identifying a meta discourse of community, an historical pattern (the episteme of modernity) is similarly revealed, which embraces the whole history of dialectical thought (as a tool of historical analysis) and allows the historian to reveal another, deeper structural conflict. It must be considered that this modern way of thinking is the same thinking that constructed the discourse of sexuality and that created 'the homosexual'. If this creation is assumed to be inherently problematic, as I am arguing, and if it is to be deconstructed, then so too must its liberal manifestation, the gay community. As such, it is pointless arguing the toss over the merits of the liberal or communitarian conceptions of community vis-a-vis the gay and lesbian community, because both are revealed to be historically, epistemologically, insuperable.
The deconstruction of the notion of gay community need not be considered threatening to those who currently find security in that identity. I am merely suggesting another form of knowledge which would lead to the creation of a new identity outside the definitionally restrictive boundaries of contemporary community discourse. What must be critically addressed is the rationalist tendency to divide; race, class, gender, sexuality. The imposition of the discourse of community on any of these divisions is merely a means of legitimating and institutionalising what are on closer intellectual scrutiny, quite dubious and perhaps even misanthropic divisions within the human species. The modem rationalist meta discourse of community is, like all modem institutions inherently divisive. This is a difficult point which demands clarification. It
52 is not the spirit of community (which I would argue is a universal human feeling) but the mode in which that spirit is expressed that I am addressing. Communities have existed across cultures and at all times in human history, however, the frame of reference in which those communities existed was specific to each particular culture and time. Community therefore in 1993 Sydney does not carry the same meaning as did community in ancient Greece. It is specifically the rationale behind the expression of community in ostensibly new guises such as the Sydney gay and lesbian community that I shall be examining in this and later chapters. As such, my work should be understood as more a criticism of the epistemology of modern rational thought -by way of using as an example, the deconstruction of the Sydney gay and lesbian community rather than a direct criticism of that community itself.
Crittenden would criticise the cultural community such as the gay community as being a "partial community" (Crittenden, 1992, p.138). He suggests that partial communities are a hallmark of liberal democratic society and that for a community to be based around one fraction of an individual's personality is to be an association and not a community at all. This inevitably begs the question; is the gay community based strictly around one aspect of an individual's personality, (ie their sexual preference), or does that one aspect in turn define the rest of the individual's character? Is there a gay personality? A gay identity? What are the characteristics of that identity? Is there a 'truth in being' gay as opposed to 'being straight'? In attempting to define the Sydney gay and lesbian community in 3(b) I will explore these questions more fully.
"In order to accommodate the diversity and conflict found in and characteristic of modem industrial societies, social ties must be looser, and the bonds, more abstract."(Crittenden, 1992, p.139). The 'total' community does not exist in our society, perhaps it never did. The child, as Crittenden says is "born into a network of subcultures."(Crittenden, 1992, p.139) Where these subcultures become communities is up to the interpretation of the individual theorist. Few within the Sydney gay community would seriously entertain the thought or the desire to exist wholly within a total gay community along the lines suggested by Jacques de Tocqueville in the 19th century (Crittenden; 1992, p.137). To do so would be to imprison oneself in much the same oppressive environment that the gay person -the social pariah of the old geographic community- had originally fled 1.
The notion of totality is inappropriate to a pluralist society. For individuals to grow and remain healthy, they must identify with several communities. An alternative to Crittenden's definition of community is Poplin (1972), who suggests that there are in
53 fact three types of community in modern society; 1. As a synonym -religious organisations, members of the same profession, minority groups, etc. 2. A moral or spiritual phenomenon -people engaged in the search for community. 3. Social and territorial -the physical or geographical community. Which type does the gay community fall into? It would seem to be all three. Certainly, the characteristics that define that community as outlined in part b) of this chapter can be variously located in each of the three categories, which presents a serious methodological obstacle to the use of Poplin's definition of community. It may further be argued, what purpose does a label serve if it covers groups as diverse as the academic community, the ethnic community and the gay community? What is the common link between them all? What is that spirit of community that can be observed in them all? More importantly, can we identify a meta discourse of community that runs through all of the different types, different theories; that way of thinking common to theorists as diverse as Poplin, Crittenden and Tonnies, all of whom are united in their desire to explore the nebulous properties of the spirit of community?
On a philosophical level, community has been defined as an expression of "our vague yearnings for a commonality of desire, a communion with those around us, an extension of the bonds of kin and friend to all those who share a common fate with us." (Minar and Greer; 1969, p.ix) Community is a term used to identify social groups within the larger mass society; communities in this sense provide a network of support, identification, spiritual unity, involvement and purpose for the individual who otherwise falls prey to the alienation, anomie and transcendental homelessness that stereotypically characterise modem society. In this sense, it is not only possible, but imperative that one individual can belong to several communities, for example the academic community, the gay community, the Vietnamese community, etc.
Quite obviously this is a radically different conception of community than that espoused by Crittenden and the communitarian school. In a liberal democracy we habitually fluctuate between the rights of the individual and the rights of the community. The frictions and tension thus created are also a stimulus for growth and reflection, which perpetuate the same process that enabled the creation of 'new' communities such as the gay community in Sydney.
Another paradox of advanced industrial society is that although we seem to be blinded by choice and alarmingly free to 'pursue our own destiny', feelings of alienation seem to be stronger than ever and the need of individuals to find security in a community identity seems to have experienced a renaissance over the past 20 years. If
54 social movements provide the vehicle for the expression of civil discontent, it is the resurgence of the communitarian spirit that has prompted their formation. But all levels of society are currently indulging in the revival of the community. Local councils court the notion with their constituents by sponsoring street fairs and erecting community tidiness signs. Even commercial TV bombards us with community service announcements. Mc Luhan's global village never had a more real expression than the clean up the world campaign2. When the question of community is raised for discussion today, it is usually approached from the angle of 'paradise lost'. In other words, the question is asked; 'what happened to our community?' In actuality, community is flourishing all around us.
The arguments against a total community are many, but most are based around the anthropomorphic assumption of communitarians that the community is somehow organic, that it has a life of its own beyond that of its constituents. This notion is both popular and persuasive; contemporary mythology makes constant use of romanticised terms such as 'the life of the community' and indeed when writing about a community it is hard not to fall into this trap, but this is not to say that the community should be considered in a purely atomised form. As the saying goes, no man is an island. It is necessary to conceive of community in a Gestaltist sense if one is to make any sense of the term at all, but, this does not mean that the community 'lives and breathes' and neither does it mean that the community has its own spirit. To assume so is not only anthropomorphic, but the worst form of naive positivism; there are no consensual norms, no collective system of values in even the smallest of communities. What does exist is a schedule of rules and obligations administered by an authoritative body to which individuals in a given collective consign the power of their sovereignty and self determination, in exchange for the right to identify with that particular collective. Power, as I argued earlier is inherently unequal and unstable. The position of the individual within any community is always a balance between the desire of that individual to pursue his own ends and determine her own life and the perceived benefits of sacrificing that sovereignty in return for group security.
This is an important distinction to make because it vitally effects how an individual places the agency of decision making within his/her community.For instance, is sodomy a personal decision or one for the community? Does the community benefit or decay by the legalisation of sodomy? Who's decision is it anyway, the individual's or the community's? Though it would seem to me that the individual must take responsibility for his/her own actions, it is interesting to observe how sexuality has been carved up by the judicial system according to a supposedly communitarian notion of what is good for
55 the community and what is not. That most personal of human behaviours has in modem society been made the most public of property. As Foucault said, it is constantly discussed, debated and legislated, from the houses of parliament, to the courts of law, to the gutter press of tabloid journalism (Foucault, 1978). The point is, in plain terms that the community rarely has sex ... people do.
Just as a coalition of forces comprise a pluralistic society, so too must many different communities, subcultures, associations, etc, cohabit in a shared environment, each competing for a share of the limited quantity of resources available. Certainly it is in the interests of all that standards, morals, and ethics must be upheld for the mutual benefit of all, but these decisions are overtly political and comprise what can be called the political life of the community. Where conflict arises is in deciding exactly what behaviour should fall under that politico-legal jurisdiction and what should be left to the individual to decide. Gay rights activists have since the 1970's campaigned under the slogan that the personal is political. Perhaps what is equally important to consider in this statement is that what has been political (the right to freely acknowledge and practice ones same gender sex preference) should in fact be personal. We are in the interesting position now that a community has developed around the politicisation of a personal act; the ramifications of this development will be fully discussed in chapter 5.
META DISCOURSE OF COMMUNITY
The meta discourse of community that I have attempted to reveal embraces all theories about community thusfar examined. Concepts such as gemeinschaft and gesselschaft, liberal and communitarian, total and partial, can all be located within that meta discourse of community, which I identify as an attempt to explain the perceived loss of community as industrial society has progressed. Discourse on community has invariably been articulated as a rear guard action, an attempt to 'solve' the failings of modem society. Sociology itself was created as a response to the perceived problems of modem society. Communities have existed wherever humans have existed and theories of community date back to Plato and Confucius, but the current meta discourse of community as a response to the alienation of man in society is a distinctly modem discourse. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that those two creations of the late 19th century, the homosexual and the community should join together at the end of the 20th.
So we have here the intersection of two discursive systems; community and sexuality. The closet was defined sexually in the 19th century and is now being codified socially as a community. If the desire for community can be identified as a universal
56 human phenomenon, then the forces that regulate the constructions that that desire provokes must be socially determined. Once the homosexual was created as a species apart, it was inevitable that that species would seek to express the universal communitarian desire.
The disintegration of the proletariat as the underclass left in its place a whole swag full of smaller, divided underclasses such as ethnic groups, women, the disabled and the mad, and homosexuals. So, just as Toynbee said of the proletariat that they possess "a consciousness of being disinherited from his ancestral place in society and being unwanted in a community which is his rightful home", (Nisbett;1969, p.21) so too the same can be said of the new underclasses. As such, they exhibit a will to community.
The principle advantage of identifying a meta discourse of community is that it makes visible the social construction of that structure known as community. Not visible in the sense that one and all can identify say, group A as a community and group B as not, but in the sense that it becomes clear that all people feel the need to identify with a community and in so doing place themselves in a particular power relation in which to a certain degree they subordinate their own needs and desires to those of the community's, in exchange for the security that the community provides. In advanced industrial society that power relation is dominated by the logic of liberal democracy. Community in modern industrial society is conceived of in liberalist terms. The meta discourse of community can be identified in the premise of the question; how can we retain or regain our community, in the face of further modernisation? Both radical and conservative doctrines of community define their objectives in relation to this fundamental question.
So much scholarship of the 20th century has been devoted to the erosion of community in the face of relentless urbanisation, modernisation and yes, alienation. It is interesting then to study the creation of a new community in the gay and lesbian community. This represents a shift in the structure of community away from the old, traditional social coordinates of geography race and class, into the new territory of sexuality. It is very difficult to argue the case against the establishment of the gay community, because whilst -on a theoretical level- it is possible to justify the thesis that the gay community further isolates and minoritises gay people AND reinforces the validity of that 19th century pseudo scientific monstrosity the homosexual, on a personal, experiential level the Sydney gay community is alive, vibrant, growing and a source of enormous strength and courage to thousands of people who would otherwise
57 still be suffering the loneliness and anomie not just of the modem world, but of the modem homophobic world.
Surely any community that can flourish in our contemporary inhumane society should be supported? On a superficial level, a strong case can be argued that it should - in fact this is the case most favoured by gay rights organisations- but to me that community does not represent a solution to the problems of isolation and anomie that beset gay and straight people alike, it represents a reaction which is in itself symptomatic of the problem in that it reproduces the 'illogic' of the greater society in its own structure. The gay community articulates a double subordination of the individual, firstly, as a member of a minority group (which is itself constitutionally subordinate) and secondly as a member of mainstream society. The acceptance of homosexuality as being the basis for a community describes the contours of the final panel in the construction of the closet that keeps the homosexual apart from the heterosexual - almost akin to a form of sexual apartheid ... Again referring to the episteme of the modem age, the construction of the gay community does not represent a break or a rupture in that episteme, but merely a further unfolding.
Just as I argued that the gay rights social movement is a liberal democratic institution, so too is the gay community. A meta discourse of community suggests that community finds its expression in the thinking of the day. In a liberal democratic society that means a liberal community. I am not criticising the notion of community per se, but the notion of liberalism.
SUBCULTURE:
Stuart Hall defines culture as "The symbolic ordering of social life." (Hall, 1974, p.11) Not only does the individual find identity in culture but also learns to recognise the cues and responses to stimuli that constitute that individual's conception of reality. Culture, by definition constructs limits and constraints on behaviour. Just as the individual - being a social animal- requires the interaction of others for a healthy life, so too, that society must have rules to order its members' behaviour, essentially to create some sort of collective meaning or purpose to life which binds the members into a unified group. Hall suggests that the dominant culture of a complex society is never a homogeneous structure. Within that culture exist many rifts and divisions, semi autonomous social networks, communities and subcultures.
58 Subculture implies division. It is an embodiment of the disjunctive elements of a society which is never cohesive or value consensual in the positivist sense. Most subcultural theory has been developed along neo Marxist lines and assumes the existence of a hegemonic superstructure. The culture of that society is contained within that superstructure, but not defined by it. Swingewood describes the relation of culture and hegemony as; "Throughout the major social institutions (the family, religious, educational, political, and trade union organisations), cultural values, norms and aspirations are transmitted, congealing into largely non conscious routines, the norms and customs of everyday experience and knowledge. At the level of popular consciousness, culture is never simply that of the 'people' or region or family or subordinate class. Culture is not a neutral concept; it is historical, specific and ideological." (Brake, 1985, p.3).
Culture is socially produced. Using a neo Marxist analysis, as a product it exhibits all of the qualities of a certain dominant ideology which manipulates the way people think and act by controlling the mechanisms of cultural production. Those mechanisms are what Althusser called Ideological State Apparatuses (ISA'S). They include mass media, religion, education, law, politics, and the family (Brake; 1985). Ideology remains for the most part unconscious, unrevealed, 'natural'. Hegemony is maintained by the implicit consent of the subordinate classes who -by consuming and being consumed totally within the socially produced culture- are never fully aware that their choice is not free. However, that partial awareness of an overwhelming dominating force creates an environment in which 'cultural space is constantly fought over, and over which the hegemony maintains a moving equilibrium." (Brake, 1985, p.5). Subcultures are a uniquely modern phenomenon. They exist only in a society sufficiently large to accommodate a cultural plurality through which many manifestations of a common or shared identity may be expressed. "Subcultures exist where there is some form of organised and recognised constellation of values, behaviour and actions which is responded to as differing from the prevailing sets of norms." (Brake; 1985, p.8).
Subculture always stands in opposition to the dominant culture. It defines itself against the identity and values of the dominant. It is definitionally inferior because of its reliance on the structures of the dominant culture and its inability to support itself. Subculture expresses meaning, only in contrast to the dominant.
Subculture as a concept is interesting to the sociologist because it occupies that position between the individual as actor and the society as structure that reveals the normally hidden ideology of the dominant culture. A study of a subculture is implicitly
59 a critique of the dominant culture. The major drawback with subcultural theory is that it is as Clarke (1974) said, methodologically 'spongy'. Empirically, subcultures invariably prove impossible to pin down; boundaries of geography, membership and identity are often highly fluid and their history is vague. Much of this has to do with the nature of subculture -being constitutionally oppositional to the rules and codes of the dominant culture, subcultures tend to be difficult to format according to those taxonomic rules. The academic sociological study is essentially a conservative action that -whatever its intentions may be- inevitably works against the desires of the subculture by exposing it, forcing definitions upon it, constraining it by forcibly constructing boundaries etc. All of these actions are -even in defense of the subculture- reinforcing of the rules of the dominant which exerts its control precisely by defining, dividing, exposing, diffusing and de-fusing subcultures. Whilst the subculture remains hidden it does conceivably pose some threat to the dominant culture. Once exposed, that threat perishes under the harsh glare of scrutiny (academic, media, police) and the subculture vanishes as precipitously as it was formed.
A more critical problem that I perceive in subcultural theory is its very reliance on the neo Marxist theory of hegemony. As I argued in chapter 1, I prefer the use of the term discourse to that of ideology, precisely because I believe that there is no one dominant ideology in advanced industrial society. In its place I use the Foucauldian term episteme which identifies a mode of thinking and representing which can be said to dominate our society, but unlike ideology, it does not attempt to draw dividing lines between classes or races or sexes, it does not reduce the complexity of society to the dialectical struggle over the forces of material (and in this case cultural) production. Instead, it recognises struggle as occurring on many different and competing fronts simultaneously.
Is it possible to use the same conceptual tools and formulations to explain social behaviour in groups as diverse as immigrant ethnic minorities, class oriented youth organisations, religious organisations, radical political groups and sexual orientation cultures? Examples of all have been presented in the subcultural style, but I seriously question whether that theoretical construct of subcultural organisation is rigourous enough, or appropriate to lump all of these groups together. The ease with which all fit into the subcultural mode belies the inherent tendency of subcultural theory to reproduce the dominant ideology by reducing the complexity of each of these quite different groups to a convenient paradigm. In other words, the same thinking that created hegemony and the ISA's inevitably found subcultures within, or beneath that hegemony. One is the extension of the other. The often stated characteristic of
60 subcultures that they reproduce the rules and logic of the dominant culture, takes on new meaning when seen in this light. To abandon ideology and hegemony necessitates the abandonment of subcultural theory also. However, to the extent that many writers have already identified gay and lesbian social organisation in Sydney as subcultural, I too will of necessity make use of what I believe to be a wholly inadequate conceptual paradigm.
When referring to the Sydney gay subculture I am describing the theoretical conceptualisation of a culture already created in works such as Wotherspoon's CITY OF THE PLAIN, to which I owe a great debt as a reference source, but from which I differ theoretically quite substantially. Wherever possible I will be critically attacking the notions of both community and subculture when used in relation to homosexuality as being the defining characteristic of those social organisations. This does not mean that I dispute their actual, or physical existence, which I think is very real. Rather, I will argue the case against the smug acceptance of gay and lesbian community and subculture as resting within those conceptual paradigms. But, in order to do so, I must first describe the territory that has been mapped out according to these conceptual rules, and so, in part b) of this chapter, I present a brief history of the development of the Sydney gay and lesbian subculture/community. b) Gay and lesbian subculture/community in Sydney.
Gay and lesbian history has only recently been recognised as a 'legitimate' course of study. It is a mark of the significant progress made by gay rights social activists and what is now recognised as the gay community that academic theses are being written on issues intrinsic to gay life. Most of what has been written about the history of homosexuality in general and the rise of the gay identity in particular has been done, so to speak, from the inside out; in other words, gay activists who have become academics, writers, politicians and social policy makers. The wider academic community has shown considerable reluctance in embracing gay history as a suitable subject for research; it has been largely ignored (outside medical discourse) apart from a few isolated studies which were usually anthropological and based around some exotic 'primitive' culture (Mead; 1969, Brandt; 1974), or the study of particular individuals in history whose homosexuality was too great a feature of their life to ignore (Ellmann; 1987). The story of homosexual behaviour among 'common folk' has been quite simply left out of history and is only now slowly being revealed. This of course is a mark of the oppression that the homoerotically inclined have to some extent endured across cultures and across time, but most importantly in our own modern time and culture since the
61 'creation' of the homosexual in the late 19th century.
The rewriting of history (more than just the writing of a gay history) demonstrates the acquisition of power by gay movements around the world. It is through that written history that one gains legitimation, in this instance it is a whole culture that has appropriated the tools of legitimation and is using them to increasing effect. Gay culture can no longer be ignored in the academic world. There are many steps to be taken yet toward the full integration of gay culture into the pluralist liberal democratic society that is Australia today. It is important that the direction that these steps take be critically scrutinised not just by those who identify, or who are forcibly identified as gay theorists, but by a broader cross section of the academic community. This thesis is one such attempt. The Sydney gay and lesbian community is a rich vein of sociological study growing right before the eyes of those who care to see. It is no longer hidden, it cannot be ignored and as a rising cultural and political force it will play an increasingly significant role in the social milieu that is Sydney in the future.
SOME HISTORICAL NARRATIVE: There's something 'queer' afoot in the CITY OF THEPLAIN3. A (male) homosexual subculture developed during the interwar years of 1919-39. Hotel bars provided the ideal environment for casual, discreet contact between homoerotically inclined men. Due to the conservative moral climate of the time almost all homosexuals were 'in the closet' before the notion of the closet had even been conceived. Backroom bars such as the long bar in the Australia Hotel catered for middle class white collar workers in a casually elegant atmosphere, as did the Carlton, and Ushers, both in close propinquity to the Australia Hotel in Castlereagh St. and Pflahert's in Margaret St. (Ylotherspoon; 1991, p.59) Working class homosexuals and those seeking a bit of 'rough trade' frequented inner city pubs like the Belfields (corner of King and George Sts.). Lower George St became known as 'Salt meat alley' in reference to the large number of sailors who frequented the pubs along that stretch of road from the Quay to King St.
Apart from hotels, there were other meeting places which included Turkish baths, restaurants and cafes such as the Shalimar and the Latin cafe, and public lavatories (beats). Perhaps it is the latter which has provided the most consistently reliable (if not physically safe) environment for homosexual encounter right up to today. Even in our contemporary 'liberated' social climate in which a Sydney gay community flourishes, beats remain popular rendezvous both for those still suffering the infelicity of a hidden sexuality and with many who have long since come out.
62 It was the increased public interest in curtailing the activities of 'social deviants' during the cultural paranoia of the cold war years that lead to a revival of the public discourse of homosexuality. Generated firstly through newspaper reports of 'fears of a rise in deviancy in Sydney' and of a 'moral decline' (Wotherspoon; 1991, p.112-113), this mass publicisation of the existence of a sub group of like minded people let the homoerotically inclined individual existing in the cultural wasteland of suburban Sydney know that there did exist an environment for the expression of (his) interests. Despite the fact that new legislation made it illegal to solicit, incite, or attempt to do so any act with another man covered under the (revised) crimes act relating to homosexuals (Wotherspoon, 1991, p.113), cold war feulled paranoia of the pervert (most commonly equated with that political pervert, the communist) had the paradoxical effect of stimulating the growth of a homosexual identity. "In parliament, in the courts, in police reports, in newspapers, in the sex manuals, in novels, or in medical literature, this personage -the homosexual- now existed." (Wotherspoon, 1991, p.132)
The same might be said of the hysterical reporting of AIDS during the mid 1980's, which ultimately did far more to consolidate the burgeoning gay community than undermine it, as the level of vitriol contained in the attack so clearly implied. In both situations, it is the case that society imposes upon the individual the definition of his/her character and forces that individual to occupy a particular space within the greater social milieu. That space for homosexuals has become known as the gay community.
If a distinct homosexual culture emerged during the post war 1950's, that culture was by nature discreet, largely nocturnal and contained little in the way of organisational infrastructure. Those places that were recognised homosexual haunts existed only as illicit, 'nudge nudge, wink wink' affairs, relying solely on word of mouth and the payment of police extortion for their continued existence. Not surprisingly, the turnover of venues was rapid. With little order to the public domain of homosexual social life, a private network of parties and support networks was establishing itself in the late 50's and early 60's (Wotherspoon, 1991, p.134). At this time, Kings Cross represented the hub of Sydney 'bohemian' social life with a large population of homosexuals, but it was by no means a homosexual friendly environment and certainly a long way off the 'ghetto' that was to form around Oxford St. in the 1970's. Several changes occurred during the 1960's which made that formation possible. Some have already been outlined in my Chapter One exposition of the creation of the gay rights social movement, some others will be examined now.
63 The creation of homosexual ghettos has been experienced in numerous advanced industrial cities around the world. This is a spatial response to the social and legal marginalisation experienced by homosexuals. Homosexuality becomes a geographic phenomenon as coordinates of time, place, class and cultural specificity intersect (Seebohm; 1992, p.12). Most commonly this has occurred in the inner city regions of large industrial (western) cities. As industrial cities have grown, they have all exhibited a demographic outward movement, as successive generations of new families 'colonise' the hinterland, pursuing the liberal capitalist dream of a place of one's own (Castells; 1978). In Australia this has been epitomised by the 'great Australian dream' of the mortgage on a quarter acre block in the suburbs, resplendent with hills hoist and a triple fronted brick veneer home. The inner city of Sydney and many similar cities around the world was largely abandoned during the postwar boom decades of the 1950's, 60's and into the 70's, as the middle class family drove out into the suburbs to pursue its dream.
Those same years saw the emergence of new classes of marginal people (ie those who did not fit the stereotypical norm of white, middleclass, married with kids, etc). Young people increasingly did not live at home until married; many migrated back from the suburbs into the abandoned inner city, seeking cheap rent and easy access to city entertainment areas such as Kings Cross (Wotherspoon, 1991). The Cross -which had traditionally been the bohemian area of Sydney- experienced in the 60's a huge influx of young people with relatively high disposable incomes, a keen interest in chasing excitement and importantly, no curfew! This new influx of predominantly heterosexual young people into Kings Cross changed the atmosphere of the place, drove up rents and had the paradoxical effect of driving many of the bohemian (often employed as a euphemism for homosexual) denizens westward toward the cheaper area along Oxford Street, Darlinghurst. This was the beginning of the creation of a gay ghetto in Sydney. Oxford St. -particularly that stretch between Whitlam Square and Greens Rd. known as 'the strip'- became known as the centre of gay (male) cultural life in the early 1970's.
The rise of gay liberation, coupled with the superficially liberated social climate of the early 1970's so often associated with the counter culture, facilitated an environment in which several pubs and clubs along the strip (such as Patches, The Exchange, and The Tropicana) could become not only openly gay, but ostentatiously so. The first Sydney pub to openly proclaim itself both gay owned and seeking a gay male clientele was the Beresford Hotel, just off Oxford Street on Bourke Street. This coincided with the first publication of a gay entertainment guide called the SYDNEY STAR, which deliberately focussed on the entertainment needs of the Sydney gay man as opposed to the political needs expressed in other publications such as CAMP INK. The SYDNEY STAR was
64 also the first publication to popularise in Australia the gay communitarian ideal of "Think Gay, buy gay." (Galbraith; 1993). This new found confidence in a specific gay (male) consciousness also reflected the desire of gay men to escape the exploitation of the so called homosexual bars of Kings Cross, all of which were owned by heterosexuals and often had connections with organised crime. The criminal status of homosexuality and the general societal antipathy to homosexuals made them an easily exploitable market...prior to the more 'friendly' exploitation of the gay owned bars on Oxford Street. The gay culture of the late l 970's was focused on the hedonistic pursuit of a gay lifestyle that supposedly came as a reward for the liberation of coming out. Conspicuous consumption, endless partying, compulsive promiscuous sex were all key components to the emerging gay identity. To be truly part of this identity one not only had to look the part, but live the part. This demanded (for many practical reasons) that one lived as close as possible to Oxford St. in the surrounding suburbs of Darlinghurst, Surry Hills, and Paddington. This area (see map lb) formed the hub of the Sydney gay ghetto. Not only did living in the ghetto provide greater opportunity for the gay person to meet other gay people and provide confidence in parading one's new identity, but it made it easier (if not safer) to negotiate ones way home late at night.
The growth and spread of what emerged in the late 70's and early 80's as a gay subculture not surprisingly mirrored the growth and ageing of its initial habitues. As it grew it became more consolidated, attracted more people from around Australia and neighbouring countries, and just as housing demand forced the bohemians out of Kings Cross, so too gay migration continued in the mid 1980's west into the suburbs of Newtown, Erskineville, and the Balmain-Leichhardt area. (Seebohm; 1990).
The gentrification of the inner city suburbs of Paddington, Darlinghurst, Surry Hills was of enormous economic benefit to those gay people fortunate enough to be in a position to purchase real estate prior to, or during the Sydney housing boom of the mid to late 80's and reflected not only the changing position in life of those maturing people, but the maturing of the gay subculture/community itself. This was indicative of the increasing affluence of many of its early members, a significant proportion of whom were employed in professional positions (Marsh; 1993). The decentralisation of the gay subculture occurred (somewhat paradoxically) simultaneously with the creation of a gay community identity. This occurred on two fronts: 1. Newtown/Erskineville; where the main attractions were cheaper real estate and an atmosphere of post counter cultural liberal permissiveness, perhaps inspired by the area's large student population.
65 2. Leichhardt-Balmain; the establishment of a lesbian social network incorporating coffee shops, bars, bookstores, and community support groups, which best represents the closest Sydney lesbian equivalent of a gay (male) ghetto.
The migration away from the ghetto indicates a necessary movement due to population pressures as more and more gay people came to live in Sydney, as well as a decreasing need on behalf of the members of that community to cling to the geographic core (Oxford St.) as the gay community identity grew in confidence and strength. Also, as Seebohm noted (1990), the social boundaries shifted too as support groups and social clubs replaced pubs and saunas as the focus of gay social life (see figs. 3.1-3.6).
LESBIAN COMMUNITY Lesbian subculture and lesbian community have traditionally been more hidden and in fact less physical than its male counterpart, mirroring the subordinate status of all women in advanced industrial society (Seebohm, 1990). Due perhaps to lower disposable incomes, less reliance on, or desire to express themselves territorially (traditionally viewed in liberal capitalist society as a male, or patriarchal behaviour) and less emphasis on the great Australian male phenomenon of pub culture, lesbians have not made nearly the same impact on the social geography of Sydney that gay men have. The lesbian community has been described as reflecting "a feminist political and social ethic that is anti-capitalist, anti -materialistic and, to a certain extent, anti urban." (Seebohm; 1990, p.61).
However, in recent years there has been a concerted effort on the part of lesbians to increase their visibility, both as their own legitimate minority and as a part of the newly renovated gay and lesbian community. This attempt to increase visibility indicates a changing focus in lesbian politics away from the radical separatist ethos of the 70's which came to be perceived as only reinforcing their marginality, toward the liberalist politics of coalition and compromise. Furthermore, a new vision of lesbianism has been created over the past six years or so in which lesbians have sought to express themselves more openly and more physically, echoing a wider trend among women's movements in recent years to express confidence in their sexuality in a broader social context, which sees the meta discourse of feminism concentrate on the empowerment of all women across the political, legal, economic, religious and sexual domains.
Seebohm makes the important observation that Oxford St. is merely the symbolic focus of the gay and lesbian community, as is Mardi Gras the symbolic expression of the spirit of gay and lesbian community (Seebohm; 1990). This is much the same as
66 say, Chinatown being the symbolic heart of the Sydney Chinese community. But this raises a fundamental problem in the notion of community and identity; using the Chinese example in which the defining characteristics of membership criteria would seem to be clear (ie that one must be ethnically Chinese), does this mean that all Chinese people living in Sydney are members of the Chinese community? Surely too, there must be countless non ethnically Chinese members of that community? Relating this analogy to the question of the gay and lesbian community, Altman suggests that 1- 2% of the adult Australian population comprise the (Australian) gay community. (Altman, 1989). This figure is in no way representative of all people in Australia who engage in some form of homoerotic behaviour.
By what criteria then, do we define that community, that according to Kinsey's or Rite's data must represent only a fraction of those who engage in homoerotic activity? Is it only those who are 'out', or those who are out and active? What about those who are not out but who still regularly interact with the community through bars, beats and coffee shops, or individual social relations that any given person may not even consider to be homosexual acts? On a more general level, what sense of community can exist between gay men and lesbians when there is very little interaction on any level between those two groups? Separate bars, gyms, saunas and other meeting places, separate publications, separate scene (perhaps more importantly for many 'non scene') and in most cases, different codes of behaviour. But this is by no means the only division; a brief glance through any of the gay (male or female) literature available will reveal a cornucopia of clubs based around any imaginable social interaction, from sporting, political, ethnic preferences, to specific sexual fetishes. These divisions (200 listed in the Oct '87 issue of OUTRAGE) represent further subcultural delineations themselves. In fact -to digress momentarily- the practice of sado masochism (by no means an exclusively homosexual proclivity) in the United Kingdom was recently conferred (il)legal status by being specifically legislated against in the house of Lords!3 Will this in tum lead to the creation of the S&M community now that those people are a recognised type too? To what extent are each of these groups a further division within a community specified as gay, or an entirely discrete entity that deserves to be considered in its own right?
Without a doubt, all communities should have diversity, and the fact that these clubs advertise within the media of the gay and lesbian community is strong argument for their inclusion in the community, but to use the example of the lesbian S&M fantasy porn magazine WICKED WOMEN4, a very clear definition of one particular style of lesbian expression has been developed to which many other lesbians feel diametrically
67 opposed. In reality, what community of interest exists between homosexuals who read WICKED WOMEN and members of The Gay and Lesbian Evangelical Union? Certainly there may be a shared identification with a minority position, a shared history of oppression and a mutual desire to liberate or empower those sexualities considered marginal and inferior, but then, those characteristics are common to many other groups outside the current rubicon of the gay and lesbian community too.
Altman likens the gay community to a set of concentric circles. He writes; "We can think of the gay world as consisting of a number of concentric circles: at the centre are those people who openly identify as gays, and whose social and communal activities exist within a largely gay milieu. Then there are those who are openly gay, but not in all areas of their work and social life. Then there are those who accept themselves as homosexual but do not feel part of a larger gay community as a result. Lastly there are the very many people who are behaviourally homosexual but do not consider this as part of their identity. The gay movement will draw almost exclusively from the first two categories, but these are themselves in part the product of the movement."(Altman; 1989, p.47). Altman makes an important point in defining community, that for those who make sexual preference a crucial determinant in their creation of self identity, when that sexual preference is considered in the mainstream to be abnormal or deviant, there is a very strong need on the part of the individual to express their position in every part of their life. This is the essence of identity in the Sydney gay and lesbian community. When the question is asked; who does the gay and lesbian community represent? the only reasonable answer is that it represents those people who identify as belonging to the gay and lesbian community. It neither represents all gay men and lesbians, nor all persons who engage in homoerotic activity. The importance of this distinction will become clear in chapter 5.
CHARACTERISTICS/BOUNDARIES OF THE SYDNEY GAY AND LESBIAN COMMUNITY. In an attempt to make physically clear the particular social domain that I am discussing, I will trace the boundaries of the Sydney gay and lesbian community according to geographic and social pictorial representation. It is hoped that the use of graphs and maps gleaned from the relevant archival material make this process clearer.
68 GEOGRAPHIC BOUNDARIES: MAP La Sydney City and inner suburbs. Prominent Mardi Gras festival venues and other related establishments listed (Source; 1993 Mardi Gras programme).
69 MAP l.b Oxford St. and environs (source: 1993 Mardi Gras programme) .
Hotels and Oi~s Festival Venues Hotels ond Discos Festival Venues PoA •I • Booy $1efr,(..-,llcry • •I Ce..i('ntllol Ah.,- 2 ,_,Hood BdvoirSl,~1frlf!olfe 2 Jubi.,,.. ~ .Glcbe """Jo,d """ :, lown Hnlll-btel B
70 SOCIAL BOUNDARIES: Much more difficult to quantify as 'boundaries', the following charts are intended to provide a visual historical perspective on the growth of the Sydney gay and lesbian community since the inception of Mardi Gras in 1978.
Table 3.1 Political/Activist groups
Politicd / Activist Groups
/ ,L_/ 12 L7 10
8 j L7 ~ 6 z
4
2
I/ V I/ /7 0 1977 1979 1981 1983 1985 1987 1989 1991 1993 Vea
Source: OU1RAGE, Feb, 1985 (21), Oct, 1985 (29) SSO, Feb, 1990, Feb, 1993. Seebohm; 1990.
Table 3.2 Social, sporting and religious organisations
71 Socid, Sporting a1d Religious Or9a1isaions
60 / L_/ 50 L7 _g 40 L7 E 30 z::::, 20
10
/ / I/ 1/7 0 1977 1979 1981 1983 1985 198 7 1989 1991 1993 Yea
Source: OUTRAGE, Feb 1985 (21), Oct 1985 (29). SSO, Feb 1990, Feb 1993. Seebohm; 1990. Table 3.3 Community service and support groups
Corrm.mity Service crad Suppc>rt Groups
90
80
70
60 .! 50 E :i 40
30
20
10
0 1977 1979 1981 1983 1985 1987 1989 1991 1993 Vea
Source: OUTRAGE, Feb 1985 (21), Oct 1985 (29). SSO, Feb 1990, Feb 1993. Seebohm; 1990.
Table 3.4 Trade services
72 T rcr::le Services
60
50
40 j E 30 z::, 20
10
0 1977 1979 1981 1983 1985 1987 1989 1991 1993 Yea
Source: OUT, Feb 1985 (21), Oct 1985 (29) SSO Feb 1990, Feb 1993. Seebohm; 1990.
Table 3.5 Gay and lesbian publications/media groups
Ga( end Lesbim Publicdions / Meda Groups
20 18 16 14 j 12 E 10 z::, 8 6 4 2 0 1977 1979 1981 1983 1985 1987 1989 1991 1993 Yea
Source: OUTRAGE, Feb 1985 (21), Oct 1985 (29) SSO, Feb 1990, Feb 1993. Scebohm; 1990.
73 Table 3.6 Entertainment venues, (loci. bars, hotels, cafes, saunas... )
Entertdnment Venues (Ind Bas, Hotels, Cdes & Sa.mes)
60
50
40 .! E 30 z:::, 20
10
0 1977 1979 1981 1983 1985 1987 1989 1991 1993 Yea
Source: OUTRAGE, Feb 1985 (21), Oct 1985 (29) SSO, Feb 1990, Feb 1993. Seebohm; 1990.
COALITION COMMUNITY
The coalition of gay men and lesbians has always been a tenuous one. Despite their obvious mutual interest in eliminating discrimination against all homosexuals, the differences between the two groups (let alone, as I mentioned before within them) are so fundamental as to make the alliance perpetually unstable, built as it is on the tectonic fault line between the still considerable inequality between men and women in modem society. The history of coalition politics in the gay rights movement is one of on again, off again hiccups, treaties and splits. The stumbling block is always the antagonism between lesbians who see their femaleness as setting them further apart from gay men than their shared homosexuality brings them together, and on the other side, the often pigheaded and dismissive attitude of gay men toward their lesbian counterparts... which is so reflective of modem patriarchal attitudes toward women in general (O'Sullivan; 1993). The current situation in Sydney is one of a healthy coalition with many of the previous grievances, misconceptions and ignorances ironed out6. An equal balance seems to exist in the executive arm of significant organisations such as the Mardi Gras
74 Association 7 and there is a strong sense of shared goals and of success coming through cooperation.
The Mardi Gras itself reflects a considerable shift in the composition of its participants, with a huge increase in the participation of lesbians over the past five years. No longer the dour, po faced political reactionaries of the 70's, lesbians in the 1990's Mardi Gras' participate in the spirit of celebration. As long time Sydney lesbian activist Kimberly O'Sullivan said in the 1993 Mardi Gras program; "As more and more dykes went to Mardi Gras party and Sleaze ball in the late 1980's, party entertainment reflected this new audience. Gay men saw that dykes were not just political animals - they were party animals too. Partying together is the flipside of working together. Both provide a joyful time of common recognition." (O'Sullivan; 1993(b), p.73). This, she says marks the completion of a curious circle in which gay and lesbian solidarity of the early parades in the late 70's dwindled to the almost total extinction of lesbian involvement in 1985, but by 1992, the largest ever contingent of assorted dykes went on parade.
On the importance of Mardi Gras for bringing together not just lesbians and gay men, but different factions within each camp, O'Sullivan also said; "Only at the Mardi Gras parade do lesbians of diverse political and social persuasions celebrate their lesbianism together." (O'Sullivan; 1993(b), p.68). Perhaps it should also be observed that only during Mardi Gras is there a significant level of interaction between gay men and lesbians. The gay and lesbian community is never more so than during the festive month of February.
Possibly the most crucial factor in the reuniting of the gay male and lesbian coalition has been an increasing awareness and acceptance amongst gay men that it is the same system of intolerance and the same relation of power and domination of minorities that has oppressed gay men and (all) women alike. The recognition that patriarchy is about domination of all people and subjection of all minorities (Irigaray; 1977), and that it is only through a collective effort to change that system that change will in fact eventuate, has done more than anything to bond lesbians and gay men. Furthermore, the realisation that change will not come through revolution or opposition, but from within the system has initiated a milder brand of activism with an emphasis on the long term, gradual change, as opposed to the previously sporadic and disorganised 'radical' endeavours.
It is important to stress here, at the end of my attempt to define the Sydney gay and lesbian community, that although I am fully in support of the system of networks and
75 support services, bars, saunas, cafes etc, that make life that much more enjoyable and livable for gay people in homophobic Sydney, I do not support that deliberate, exclusionary discourse of community that seeks to create an environment of separation between gay and straight people. It seems to me that that discourse of (gay) community is almost a form of voluntary 'sexual apartheid' which reproduces the rationalist logic of division in an already divided society. This is not an answer to the problems of alienation felt by all people in contemporary Australian society, it is instead an appropriation of the tools of domination and division by those previously victimised, and duly turned upon their perceived oppressors. Crucial to this development has been a semantic shift in the coalition politics of gay and lesbian activism away from emancipation and toward empowerment.
Chapter 4 will focus exclusively on a critical analysis of the role that Mardi Gras plays both within the gay and lesbian community and as the single most important interface between the gay and mainstream communities of Sydney. The underlying premise of the analysis will be that if homosexuality and the homosexual are to be returned from the fringe of social leprosy -if they are to truly escape oppression and discrimination- then the gay movement, the gay community, and -in the vanguard- the Mardi Gras itself must seek to transcend their own self imposed boundaries with the ultimate intention of changing the whole of society rather than creating secluded, definitionally isolationist communities.
76 CHAPTER 4: Throw open your doors.
As the Mardi Gras reaches the age of (heterosexual) consent in 1993, it is a very different event to the original protest march that took place in June 1978. Extravagant, jubilant and totally over the top, the Mardi Gras of the 90's reflects the confidence, pride and integrity of a community that has undergone incredible changes over the past 16 years. It is unmistakably created in its maker's own images. Being the annual show case of gay and lesbian pride in Sydney, the Mardi Gras festival is a time for consolidation of the spirit of gay community both within and increasingly beyond that community. The Mardi Gras of 1993 is no longer merely a celebration by and for gay people alone; it has evolved into one of Sydney's major cultural events, attracting crowds of upwards of half a million people. Such is the power of Mardi Gras as a tourist drawcard that the NSW Tourist Commission lists it as a Sydney cultural attraction in its February tourist calendar. It may equally be noted however that such is the extent of concealed homophobia in this same institution that for an event that attracts such a large crowd and an estimated (8000) tourists to Sydney annually1 it can only bring itself to provide such a low key exposure.
By comparison, the immediately preceding Festival of Sydney (a month long festival that attracts a similar attendance), capitalises not only on extensive NSW Tourist Commission support, but also a total government sponsorship of $1.9 million2. Mardi Gras receives no government financial support, despite -the parade being the largest street event in Australia- its estimated revenue generation of $40 million. It is a credit to the professional organisation of the Mardi Gras Association and the spirit of goodwill in the gay and lesbian community that such a huge event can take place with so little official support, and do so comparatively incident free3.
But what meaning(s) does Mardi Gras carry in 1993? An event so large must present a number of messages, some of which are intentionally created by the parades' organisers, but others over which the organisers can have little or no control. Similarly, there are a number of ways to interpret the messages and indeed, the tools that the analyst chooses to read the codes of the event will to a great extent determine exactly what that analyst sees. For example; Seebohm(l990) made a study of Mardi Gras as a 'symbolic landscape in a cultural geography.' This semiotic analysis portrayed Mardi Gras (and extrapolated its findings by implication onto the gay and lesbian community) as occupying a symbolic geographical space clearly delimited by time, date and physical location, and a cultural space defined by the political and legal status of homosexuality in New South Wales. Seebohm presented a potted contextual history of
77 homosexuality in Sydney, and a limited reading of the social implications of Mardi Gras for both the gay and lesbian community and for the 'mainstream' society that surrounds it.
The major limitation in Seebohm's study was that it treated Mardi Gras as being an end in itself. Its mere existence was read as being absolute and the process of sketching the boundaries of the parade/community was accepted as the conceptual limit of the analysis. This descriptive function was partially the result of Seebohm's reliance on a Bakhtinian semiological analysis which favours an 'in vacuo' treatment of the event and also due to his inability/unwillingness to apply a more harsh critical scrutiny to the parade. My analysis -admitting the benefit of using Seebohm's prior work- will be both descriptive and critical. I shall provide a historical perspective on Mardi Gras using comparative graphs and charts that map its growth over the past 16 years, as well as a genealogical analysis of its changing role as the interface between the social movements and subculture of gay and lesbian life and equally, as the interface between the gay and lesbian community and the broader Sydney social environment.
MARDI GRAS: FROM PROTEST TO SPECTACLE.
What began as a radical protest against the injustices of homosexual discrimination under New South Wales law has in a relatively short time transformed into a month long cultural extravaganza; a festival celebrating lesbian and gay pride which spans the arts, including theatre, movies, Art, literature and a host of community social functions such as fairs and parties, culminating in the spectacle of the Mardi Gras parade; the largest parade in Australia and also the largest night-time celebration of gay pride anywhere in the world. Without denying the importance or significance of the many festival events that occur during the month of February, my analysis will unashamedly focus on the parade which remains far and away both the essence of Mardi Gras and its major drawcard.
Whilst it is not my intention to provide a chronology of Milestones in Mardi Gras history, nor a year by year diary account, it is essential to elucidate certain changes in the structure of the experience that is Mardi Gras in order to facilitate the genealogical analysis of the creation of a spectacle. As such, this historical narrative of Mardi Gras will by no means be a complete or painstakingly detailed account, focussing instead on those significant changes to the constitution of the event which have given rise to the order of the structure that we know today. Reference will be made where appropriate to the more detailed historical accounts and records from which this text is drawn.
78 Responding to a 'letter from America'4 sent on behalf of the Gay Freedom Day Committee, a hastily collaborated umbrella organisation called the 'Gay Solidarity Group' was established by gay lib. activists Ken Davis and Anne Talve to co-ordinate the June 24 International Gay Solidarity Day, Stonewall commemorative celebrations. This was intended as a world wide statement of gay pride and it was the 9th annual commemoration of the anniversary of the Stonewall riots. A march was organised to protest the discrimination against homosexuals and the illegality of what were known as homosexual acts under various sections of the Crimes Act {NSW) (CAM; July 78). Further to this protest march -numerous similar events had occurred throughout the early and mid 70's- it was announced in the June 1978 edition of CAMPAIGN that "a night-time parade and fiesta" would occur (Galbraith; 1985).
Differing reports indicate that somewhere between 1000 and 2000 participants marched down Oxford St between 10:00PM and 11:00PM. The march -which had been boisterous, but peaceful- ended at Hyde Park where the milling crowd was confronted by police, who confiscated the parades' lead truck and P.A. system before any announcement could be made to the crowd to disperse. The crowd -now in a state of some confusion, anger and disarray- began to head off up Livepool Street (still in a celebratory, though somewhat more aggressive mood) and marched down Darlinghurst road to the El Alamein fountain, where they were violently confronted by police. In the ensuing skirmish -during which police used batons, and bottles were thrown from the crowd- 53 arrests were made and the rest of the angry crowd headed toward Darlinghurst police station to dispute both the arrests and the confiscation of the GSG van.
Several hundred protesters staged a lengthy vigil outside Darlinghurst police station where the 53 were being held and to whom no access (legal or medical) was being permitted. Approximately $2000 was raised in bail by a hasty collection around the Oxford Street bars and in the early hours of the morning of June 25, all 53 were released on bail, charged under several sections of the Summaa Offences Act {NSW} and ordered to appear in court on Monday the 26th. During this time, several police initiated abuses of power occurred which have been well documented, but which to this day have never been officially admitted, nor examined. Despite the knowledge that several of those arrested were in need of urgent medical attention and that their legal rights were violated by being held for several hours without any charges being laid, it has also been alleged that many of the police who barred access to the station had removed their numbers to avoid identification ... a deplorable tactic which seems to have
79 been effective in absolving the police, since despite a promise from the Wran government of a commission of enquiry into the disturbance, no action was taken against any of the officers involved. (CAM; July 78).
The law as it stood in relation to homosexuality at the time was that it was not illegal to be a homosexual, but it was an offence to commit 'homosexual acts'. These were described explicitly (though by no means exhaustively) in the case of Sodomy, and also more generally as indecent assault on males by males, gross indecency between males, and public indecency. The aim of the law was to prohibit men from practicing behaviour deemed to be socially unacceptable; as such it was written in a deliberately vague and open way, which allowed both the police and the judiciary enormous freedom for personal interpretation (CAM; Sept. 75).
On the Monday after the arrests were made, 200 supporters of the accused clashed with police again, outside the Central Court of Petty Sessions. 7 more arrests were made before the police allowed the supporters admittance into the court. Of the original 53 arrested, 50 were released without bail, 2 pleaded guilty and were fined under sections of the Summary Offences Act, and I had his charge dropped due to lack of evidence (Galbraith; 1985).
As a result of continued campaigning and protest throughout 1978, the Summary Offences Act was repealed and replaced by the Offences in Public Places Act: 0979). This act was a cosmetic change only; no attempt had been made to change the legal status of so called 'homosexual acts' such as sodomy, but it did make the public assembly and right to association of homosexuals in public legal, which cleared the most significant barrier to the future staging of gay rights marches. The 1979 march, on June 30th, proceeded with grudging police approval, after permission to march was applied for pursuant to the Public Assemblies Act: 0 979), and granted by the Traffic Branch of the NSW Police Department (Mardi Gras Assn. Archives). This official exchange between the organisers of Mardi Gras and the police marks a significant change in the status of Mardi Gras, in which the event as a moment of protest moves from what Eco (1984) describes as 'tragic' and moves toward the 'comic'. Later in this chapter I will be exploring this transformation in greater detail.
This subtle change in the legal status of the event altered not only the antagonistic and potentially explosive relationship between the police and the growing protest movement, but also the way in which that event as a continuing annual protest would be read by outside observers. Put simply, a legally sanctioned protest does not carry
80 anywhere near the same emotive value as an unauthorised, illegal, or for that matter a spontaneous event. Though an ad hoe permission had been granted for the 1978 Mardi Gras, it is the unauthorised march after the police order to disperse at Hyde Park that stands as the significant and symbolic birth of Mardi Gras as an historical event. Indeed it has been speculated5 that had the police not initiated the 'riot' at Hyde Park, the parade would have quietly petered out and in all likelihood would never have been re enacted ... afterall, protest marches in a similar vein were a dime a dozen during the 'radical' 70's. However, like Stonewall in 1969, the 'tragedy' of the riot created in Mardi Gras a milestone, a cause for commemoration. Mardi Gras became (for better or worse) after the initial 1978 march, something more than the protest march of a social movement. It became a symbolic gesture, a commemorative occasion, and I will argue, an authorised transgression.
A meeting was held in September of 1980 to discuss the future of Mardi Gras and a declaration was made that it should be; "A celebration of coming out, with its main political goal being to demonstrate the size of the gay community, its variety of lifestyles and its right to celebrate in the streets of Sydney as to enable the broadening of support for gay rights."(GCN: 8, 1980, p.2). This meeting constituted the germination of a planning committee into the effective staging of Mardi Gras that would mark the beginning of Mardi Gras as an event in and of itself, and the end of Mardi Gras as being simply a protest rally or a demonstration of gay solidarity. If Mardi Gras today is perceived by some elements to be estranged from the gay and lesbian community, then this is the point at which that estrangement began. If Mardi Gras is also -as I shall argue- considered now to be a spectacle with its own meaning and its own socio cultural space as distinct from either the community or social movement of gay and lesbian life, then this is again the point from which to consider that departure.
Seebohm describes Mardi Gras circa 1980-81 as a "dramatic territorial metaphor"(Seebohm; 1990, p.54) which "Displayed, mocked, contested, and attempted to transform social relations of power. "(Seebohm; 1990, p.54). I read this early manifestation as being a metaphor for an inverted version of 'the closet'; that unique socio-cultural space in which the hidden, or undeclared homosexual was presumed to be trapped. Gay liberation since its inception in the late l 960's had taken as its fundamental epistemological basis not the need to deconstruct the barriers (legally and socially defined) that constitute a sexually divided society, but to invert those barriers and thereby reveal the contents of what was 'hidden' inside. The implicit assumption of this strategy is the recognition that the barrier itself (ie the distinction between the homosexual and the heterosexual) is valid, that there is indeed a difference, or a 'truth in
81 being' of both gay and straight identities, but that this difference should not be the subject of discrimination or legal jurisprudence6. Mardi Gras became in this sense a willful projection of the social boundaries of the closet onto the physical landscape of Sydney.
The decision to hold Mardi Gras in the summer rather than in the frigid conditions of June indicated both the desire of the newly formed Mardi Gras Task Group to distance itself from the militancy of the International Gay Solidarity march and to emphasise the celebratory aspects of being gay and proud. I speculate that much of the unconscious impetus of this decision lay not so much in the desire to parade in the more friendly weather of February, but in the unique Australian cultural preference for partying over protesting. This is a very generalised and indefensible statement that assumes the existence of such a thing as a particularly Australian way of thinking, but any analysis of the historical precedents of popular protest in Australia will reveal a startling dearth of incidents when compared on a relative basis with the history of say, the United States... that being the state of origin of modem gay liberation. The popular mythology of 'the Australian' as being a larrikin and easy going on the other hand is part of Australian legend. Perhaps this vaguely boeotian observation deserves a more careful analysis in another study. Be this as it may, it is not surprising that Mardi Gras as a celebration has grown in quantum proportions, which on a per capita basis makes it incomparably the largest gay and lesbian event anywhere in the world.
LESBIAN PARTICIPATION: The history of lesbian involvement in Mardi Gras has been an interesting one that reveals in their unofficial departure from the parade in the early 1980's not only the process of exclusion that has written the very existence of lesbian sexuality out of history, but also in their return, under the much heralded banner of coalition in 1988, a clearer example of the desire of a minority group to appropriate the tools of oppression -the closet- for their own purposes.
Lesbians accounted for nearly half of those arrested during the initial march in 1978. Throughout the 70's lesbians and gay men worked together under the all inclusive rubicon of gay liberation. Despite being at times an uneasy alliance, gay politics was seen to be mutually beneficial, although there was a constant feeling of dissatisfaction or disquiet among lesbians, that not only were they invisible within the movement and indeed in law, but that their interests as women superceded their commonality of interest with gay men as homosexuals(O'Sullivan; 1993, p.101).
82 The catalyst for the split in Sydney gay politics came in 1980, during arguments over the conduct of the 1980 parade, in which several floats had depicted both racist and sexist stereotypes in a way that was unacceptable to many of the lesbians involved. By the end of the October 1980 meetings, a 26 member committee was elected as an attempt at detente between the factions. However, by early the next year, only 11 remained. It was during those few months that almost all lesbians abandoned Mardi Gras, bitterly claiming that it was as patriarchal, sexist and as oppressive of women as any other institution of contemporary Australian society (Galbraith; 1985). It is equally important to acknowledge that along with the lesbians went many of the gay male political radicals who resented the creeping commercialisation of the protest and the declining interest in the political ideals that it represented. What had been a co-sexual, radical, movement inspired event, was sequestered by the gay male subculture. That subculture, which had been so ambivalent to Mardi Gras as a protest movement became its champions when it transformed into a celebration.
The nature of the quite bitter split was described by Barry Whitelow in the SYDNEY STAR (3/10/80) as; "One obvious outcome of the two meetings was a public showing of a split within the gay community. One group -largely composed of the political left/feminist/ militant lesbians, effeminists and supporters- continues to believe they have a mandate to enforce their particular viewpoint on everyone else ...... The other group -made up of moderates/conservatives/ gay commercial interests/businessmen/social/welfare/religious groups/bar patrons and their supporters would like to learn what the first group is talking about, but not in such a negative way - not with 'attacks' but with meaningful dialogue, working together for a community ."(Galbraith; 1985). This rancorous dispute lead to the departure of almost all lesbians and most of the old guard of the politically left gay lib organisations to pursue their own 'separatist' agendas. For most of the l 980's, Mardi Gras was considered to be primarily a gay male parade, and a celebration of the macho image of the gay male subculture, best typified by the cropped haired, mustachioed, Levi's wearing 'man's man', the 'clone'.
The 'official' return of lesbians from the separatist political wilderness, under the new title of gay and lesbian Mardi Gras in 1988 represented an expansion of the definitional limits of the closet, which clearly illustrates the desire of those within to uphold the discriminatory barriers of sexual demarcation. Not only is the identity specific wording of the title Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras an interesting example of inverted elitism, but it is symptomatic of the very process of exclusion that created the homosexual as the subject of discrimination. By rejoining Mardi Gras under their own banner (a strategy
83 designed to lift the visibility of lesbians as a unique interest group), lesbians claimed the right to assert their identity as a separate group; a group with its own particular needs and its own particular culture as distinct from that of all other (non lesbian) women. The symbolic barriers that define the open closet that is Mardi Gras must be held up from within. It is unashamedly designed as an exclusive festive occasion which keeps those who do not observe the rules and conditions out.
The structure and format of Mardi Gras were consolidated in the years 1982-83, during which a more standard parade route was chosen, reversing the direction so that it started in the city and moved into the gay ghetto, thus focussing on Oxford St. which had become the commercial as well as the spiritual heart of gay community life. Numerous disputes occurred during these years between the Mardi Gras Committee and the official administrators of public spaces such as Martin Place and Sydney Square. Both the Sydney City Council and the Anglican church (the respective trustees) objected to the use of 'their' public space by Mardi Gras for purposes that were described as being 'of a political nature·7. Seebohm identified these barely disguised incidents of homophobia as an example of the politically contested nature of public space (Seebohm; 1990, p.54), but what is more important than merely revealing the contestation of that space, is that in its victory over the Anglican church in the Equal Opportunity Tribunals, The Mardi Gras Committee revealed its acquisition of power as a growing political force.
This appropriation of 'legitimate' power indicates another node in the subtle changes that Mardi Gras underwent from protest to spectacle. Anathema to the conflict oriented protest mode, the authorisation to use public space exhibits a growing conservatism in the approach of Mardi Gras to the political objectives of gay rights activism. Mardi Gras in these years ceased altogether to be an activist oriented event. All future activism would be symbolic only and subordinate to the celebratory intentions of the Mardi Gras Committee. It is interesting to note also, that after the victory against the Anglican church, the Committee decided in 1985 for convenience to change the start of the parade to Art Gallery Rd, thereby avoiding altogether any conflict that may have occurred with the general public.
The years 1982-83 were also the time in which the Mardi Gras Committee tightened its exclusive control over the event by professionalising its operations; It incorporated as an association in (1983), employed full-time staff, and set up shop in a permanent office and workshop (Mardi Gras Assn. archives). Mardi Gras became not so much a gay community event, as a Mardi Gras Association event. This is a crucial distinction to
84 make, because it highlights the separation of Mardi Gras as a distinct entity from the community of which it is still considered an integral part. Given that the Mardi Gras Association wields a considerable amount of power as the custodians of one of Australia's largest cultural events, it must be recognised that it has its own interests to represent, which although closely linked to the interests of the gay and lesbian community, are definitely not the same. Furthermore, as Mardi Gras grows from year to year, these interests must become increasingly exclusive.
Perhaps a useful analogy can be found in the analysis of the relationship between the Royal Agricultural Society (RAS) and what I will loosely describe the agricultural community. The Royal Easter Show was designed primarily as an annual agricultural expo, but has over the years developed into so much more. With this development, the power of the RAS as an official institution has also considerably expanded, to such a degree that a seat on the board of the RAS is a highly prized political and social asset. Although the Mardi Gras Association is not in the same league (and doubtlessly will be appalled by the comparison) the steady professionalisation of both the event and of those who administrate it reflects the upwardly spiralling 'will to power' inherent in the institution. It is not surprising that the heat of political exchange within Association circles has risen dramatically in recent years. Put simply, the political structure and organisation of Mardi Gras ceased to be a friendly relationship when it was made an association. Mardi Gras in the 1990's is a professional organisation and as such must be considered as representing its own particular interests before those of any outside organisation ... most notably, the gay and lesbian community.
In 1984, the legislation relating to sodomy and the commission of indecent acts by males on males was repealed, effectively making all so called homosexual acts between consenting males (over the age of 18) legal. On one level, this change to New South Wales legislation marked the end of gay rights as a strictly personal political crusade. All subsequent activism could be read as being as much in the interests of the gay community as in those of the gay person. As far as Mardi Gras was concerned, symbolic activism still played a major role and Mardi Gras became a particularly useful platfonn for the delivery of AIDS awareness, safe sex education and community support advocacy messages. Again, this activism was symbolic rather than politically militant. 1984 and 85 proved to be watershed years for Mardi Gras, because in the hysteria generated in the popular media surrounding AIDS it seemed to be quite a real possibility that the future of the parade could be in jeopardy9. Numerous critical reports of the 1985 parade sparked an uproar in which surprisingly, Mardi Gras was defended by the police Mardi Gras liaison officer Inspector Thorgood, who described the event
85 as; "a very successful night, both from the policing point of view and the community relations point of view."(THE STAR, 7/3/85). A most unlikely ally had been found which is reflected in the documentation of correspondence between the police and the Association from the years 1983 onward (Mardi Gras Assn. archives). For several years a publicly unspoken rapport had been fostered between police and the Mardi Gras Association, but from 1985, this support carried a more official tone. The current status of relations seems to be one of healthy liaison (one can only wonder how long it will be before the police enter their own float in the parade ... )10
The massive expansion of Mardi Gras throughout its 16 year existence raises the question; was this due to strategy or accident? To look at the details of figures 4.1 & 4.2, it is clear from the steady arithmetic progression in both parade and attendance size that if such an expansion were not deliberate, it was certainly not unwelcome. If we remember the declaration of 1980 which stated as a goal of Mardi Gras to "demonstrate the size of the gay community ...... and its right to celebrate in the streets of Sydney ... " then the context of the expansion becomes more apparent. The movement toward spectacle was strongly desired and consciously manipulated, though the full extent of its (continuing) expansion was not foreseen. Increased expenditure on advertising swelled crowds in the mid 80's, but it was the erection of crowd control barriers for the 1985 and subsequent parades that did more than anything to transform the community street parade into its current manifestation as a multi media spectator event. The erection of barriers and the marshalling of participants into two clearly defined groups; ie spectator and performer, created the atmosphere of the parade as entertainment to be viewed from outside. Suddenly Mardi Gras became a spectator sport.
The most important effect of this demarcation was that it provided a clear dividing line between who was part of the parade (and obviously gay) and who was merely an amused spectator (whose sexual identity could not be clearly determined). As such, Mardi Gras became attractive to increasing numbers of curious straight people, who were keen to observe but not participate. This is the central element of my metaphorical analysis of Mardi Gras as closet. Employing a Freudian psychoanalytic interpretation of voyeurism 11 , it is essential to the maintenance of the relation of power between the watcher and the watched, that the watcher remain hidden and that the barrier between the two remain at all times intact. In the case of Mardi Gras, the sheer size of the crowd provides the perfect voyeuristic environment in which the dominant party (the crowd itself) can be erotically titillated without having to seriously question any deeper meaning that the performer(s) may have intended. If the parade is a big open closet, then the surrounding crowds become the walls of that closet in which the voyeur
86 remains anonymous, and safe. The triumph of the specular over the spectacular. Mardi Gras as performance -as spectacular performance- carries little meaning beyond the voyeuristic, sexually gratifying aspect of the performance itself. This will be the focus of the second part of chapter 4; Throw open your doors.
87 M.G. Parade: Float and Costume Groups
120
100
80
60 f::, z 40 .c;' L~ 20 - 0 I/ (X) 0) 0 M ' Year Table 4.1 Table 4.1 Source: Mardi Gras Assn. Archives. Estimated Crowd Size 600 500 400 ii 0 0 sa 300 z0 200 100 0 (X) 0) 0 M ' Year GENDER DEMOGRAPHICS: Parade Float constitution. (Table 4.3) 1981 1987 1993 = _,_ - Source: Mardi Gras Assn Archives. Political/Commercial/Community/Social Demographics (Table 4.4) 11181 1987 PoEtoc:II/Actl¥,ft·~ A BRIEF ANALYSIS OF THE STATISTICS The years 1981, 87 and 93 were not chosen as particular 'milestones' in Mardi Gras history, but merely as a periodic indication of the changing demographics of the parades' composition. 1981 represents not only the year of the first summer parade, but also for which archival records of any significant detail have been preserved by the Mardi Gras Association. The sources for all of these analyses were those archives and the EIS report; "SYDNEY GAY AND LESBIAN MARDI GRAS: The Public Benefits of Community Celebration" (Marsh; 1993). Several interesting changes can be observed in these graphs: 1. The gender demographic of the parade participants has fluctuated considerably. Dropping away to almost zero lesbian participation for much of the middle 1980's (This was certainly the case on the organisational and administrative level, Galbraith; 1985), it has, since the advent of gay and lesbian coalition seen a very rapid increase at both the 'street' and executive levels. The Mardi Gras Association has had a lesbian president for two of the past three years. 2. The commercial element of the parade has declined considerably, as a steady trend toward consolidating the image of the parade as a community event has prompted greater participation from community service and social groups. In view of this observation, it is interesting to note that one of the primary recommendations of the Marsh report is that greater (gay) corporate sponsorship is now imperative to the future well being of the festival (Marsh; 1985, p.75). For an event which injects an estimated 40 million dollars into the local community, commercial sponsorship is appallingly low (Marsh; 1985, p. 75-76). It must be noted that the Mardi Gras Association not only operates Sydney's largest annual cultural festival with minimal private or public sector support, but that it is much more cost effective than any other festival organisation, enjoying the benefit of a small army of eager volunteers. It is my speculation that greater sponsorship will be forthcoming in the private sector (most notably from whatever media group eventually secures telecast rights), but that this sponsorship will be a two edged sword; on the one hand it will make the financial future of Mardi Gras more secure, but it will also tie the interests of the Association to a force external to the community. If, as I have been arguing, the interests of the Association itself are not necessarily congruent with those of 'the community', then this will be even more the case if an outside interest regulates a significant proportion of the festival budget. A greater shift toward Mardi Gras as spectacle would be inevitable. 90 3. Perhaps the most significant observation of all across the graphs is the continued incremental growth of the event, which leads one to wonder, how long can such growth be effectively maintained and/or controlled? In the face of such growth, it is entirely appropriate that the motives of the Association should be called to account and a serious questioning of the raison d'etre of the festival be undertaken. 4. The significant decline in political/activist participation can be placed in greater perspective by taking into account the change in the quality of those activists and political representatives who remain. Originally a somewhat shambolic collection of left wing radicals dominated the spirit and character of Mardi Gras. By 1981, the radical element had largely abandoned Mardi Gras as an effective or appropriate venue in which to propagate their cause. However, with the increase in power embodied in Mardi Gras itself as a political tool, many local government and NSW state politicians have successfully exploited the parade as an opportunity to mount the hustings, on the basis of their support for gay and lesbian issues ... symbolically represented by Mardi Gras. Similarly, the activist groups that remain are powerful, well organised lobby groups who wield considerably more clout than did the radical groups of the late 1970's. CARNIVAL, SPECTACLE, AND THE AUTHORISED TRANSGRESSION Mardi Gras is historically synonymous with carnival. Carnival can be traced to the Bacchic and Dionysian celebrations of the ancient Roman and Greek civilizations; the Roman celebration of the coming of spring included carrying a representative of the God Bacchus in a ship like float called a 'carrus navalis' (Rector; 1984, p.39), from which we derive the term carnival. Mardi Gras -traditionally celebrated as a prelude to Lent- is a Christianisation of an ancient pagan festivity. The term Mardi Gras refers to Shrove Tuesday (also known as 'Fat Tuesday'), the day before the Christian ceremony of Lent begins on Ash Wednesday. Eric Michaels, in offering his own analysis of "Carnivale in Oxford Street" (Michaels; 1988) suggests another interpretation of the Mardi Gras legend, in which; "Drawing upon pagan precedents (the great bear god who emerges annually from hibernation to signal the rebirth from winter with a huge fart) medieval Christians came to reckon the period from Candlemas (Feb. 2) or St Blaise day (Feb. 3) or even earlier, the feast of Epiphany (Jan. 6) as the beginning of a licentious ritual schedule." (Michaels; 1988, p.5) This was a time when all rules were turned on their heads; public sinning was expected, people debauched themselves, kings paraded as fools and fools were crowned king, all in preparation for the solemnity and privation of Lent. It would be easy to attack the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras as just this sort of occasion. It is easy to superficially read the parade as being a freak show, or a parade of fools; a day on which the new social pariahs of our society are transformed into royalty, riding glittering pumpkins up Oxford Street on their way to the fairytale ball at the Sydney Showground. I intend to pose a more sophisticated analysis. Eco analyses the notion of carnival as a moment of 'authorised transgression' in "The Frames of Comic Freedom"(Eco; 1984, p.2). He associates carnival with comedy, which he suggests lies in an antithetical relationship to tragedy. In Eco's own words, these are described as; TRAGEDY: "The tragic effect is realised when: 1. there is the violation of a rule (call it a code, a social frame, a law, a set of premises) which 2. is committed by somebody we can sympathise with, since he is a character of noble condition, not so bad as to be repulsive, not so good as to escape identification, and 3. we recognise that the rule has been broken since we feel it to be either still valid ('do not kill your father') or at least sufficiently justified by the context (in the bible: 'do not disregard the commands of God); facing such a violation, 4. we agree that it was bad, 5. we suffer with the hero because we understand, in some way share his remorse, and participate in his own expectation of the possible or necessary punishment (pity and fear), and 6. we feel peaceful when we realise that the sinner has been rightly punished and has in some way accepted his punishment (we enjoy the reaffirmation of the power of the rule)." (Eco; 1984, p.1) COMEDY: "On the other hand, comic effect is realised when: 1. there is the violation of a rule (preferably, but not necessarily a minor one, like an etiquette rule); 2. the violation is committed by someone with whom we do not sympathise because he is an ignoble, inferior and repulsive (animal like) character; 3. therefore we feel superior to his misbehaviour and to his sorrow for having broken the rule; 4. however, in recognising that the rule has been broken, we do not feel concerned; on the contrary, we in some way welcome the violation; we are, so to speak, revenged by the comic character who has challenged the repressive power of the rule (which involves no risk to us, since we commit the violation only vicariously); 5. our pleasure is a mixed one, because we enjoy not only the breaking of the rule but also the disgrace of an animal like individual; 6. at the same time we are neither concerned with the defence of the rule, nor compelled toward compassion for such an inferior being. Comic is always racist: only the others, the barbarians are supposed to pay." (Eco; 1984, p.2). In the case of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, the last statement can be re read as 'comic is always homophobic .. .' This rather cruel analysis exposes the difference 91. between Mardi Gras as a moment of protest and as a parade; both are transgressions of the rule (the accepted codes of social order), but the first is tragic and the second comic. The Mardi Gras in becoming a carnival becomes comic. Eco likens carnival to a peculiar environment in which "fish fly and birds swim, in which foxes and rabbits chase hunters, bishops behave crazily and men chase men and women, women ... " (Eco; 1984, p.2) During carnival we assume a mask, we act like animals, we willingly and gleefully transgress the rule, gaining the ultimate pleasure in breaking proscribed taboos (Freud; 1960, p.20). The knowledge that we derive so much pleasure from the breaking of the taboo attests to the value placed on that taboo and the strength with which we normally uphold it. Carnival therefore acts as a release valve for the build up of pressures accumulated in the repression of the tabooed activity. In this case, it is those acts deemed homosexual that are the subject of the broken taboo. It is not necessary for the observer to personally break the taboo -or even to consciously desire to do so- the mere observance of those who so obviously do break the rule is enough to be erotically satisfying, and, importantly, enough to reinforce that viewer's unconscious horror of the breaking of the taboo. Naturally, a taboo only carries value if it involves the repression of an urge which we long to fulfil, but which we are socialised into denying (Freud; 1960, p.20). The message in this reading of the parade is that Mardi Gras may well be an expression of gay and lesbian pride for those who march, but it is also damn good (erotically gratifying) entertainment for many of those who spectate. Carnival is in no way a liberation, it is a reinforcement of the rule; that is, the rule of the homosexual as other. So, once the threat through protest (the tragedy of the 1978 arrests) was removed and Mardi Gras became an 'official' event, it became a parody of its own actors. Parody, as will be discussed in chapter 5 can be subversive, but not when there is a clear distinction between the audience and performer as the subject of parody and the object of amusement. The identity of the audience is at no time threatened during the performance because the crowd control barrier makes clear that there is indeed a difference between the performer and the spectator. The spectator feels 'superior' at all times, but so too, ironically does the performer. This environment of 'reciprocal alienation' thinly disguised as celebration only adds pathos to the tragi-comic aspect of Mardi Gras. But what of the messages proclaimed within the parade? These become secondary to the message of the parade itself as spectacle and can be good naturedly observed and easily dismissed as a small price to pay for one's entertainment. Whilst there is no danger or confrontation involved, there is equally no need for the spectator to seriously question his/her socially conditioned beliefs. "Carnival, in order to be enjoyed, requires that rules and rituals be parodied, and that these rules and rituals already be recognised and respected. One must know to what degree certain behaviours are forbidden, and must feel the majesty of the forbidding norm, to appreciate their transgression. Without a valid law to break, carnival is impossible."(Eco; 1984, p.6). Carnival is strictly limited by time and space. The knowledge that it is planned, authorised, and arranged with the liaison of the authorities attests to the blandness of the carnival as a radical, or in any way socially challenging event. If the institutions of authority that claim to represent our society were ever 'threatened' by the potential subversive force that Mardi Gras initially represented, they exercised the perfect de fusing response by acquiescing, accepting its existence and in so doing neatly transforming the meaning of the event from one of potential trouble into the safer, easier to control and more socially acceptable exchange, carnival. Ironically, it was not the authorities who prompted this change, but those representing the Mardi Gras committee itself, who in 1979 sought permission to hold a street parade (Mardi Gras Assn Archives). Mardi Gras can never be the voice of a protest movement, nor anything but the most blunt political weapon, because its overriding message of carnival works against the ethos of protest and agitation. Moreover, carnival as a spectacle is a saleable commodity. Michaels actually suggests that the wake of the parade is more akin to the authentic spirit of carnivale, in which all people -spectator and performer alike- mill about and celebrate and revel in the opportunity to break ordinary conventions by partying on the street. This, he claims is the radical moment, when the space between gay and straight is crossed and the barrier momentarily collapses. "This was when the party teetered most delicately on the political, and it became possible to understand how uprisings and revolutions begin at such moments. Here, not at the wild but contained party in the showground, the real potential of Sydney's gay Mardi Gras in the coming years could be glimpsed...... and it suggests that if Mardi Gras continues to grow at its annual increment, both the city and the organisers will have to rethink the event."(Michaels; 1988, p.7-8). Much thought has been given to this 'problem', with current Mardi Gras Association president Susan Harben tellingly revealing the Associations' intention to more rapidly clear and disperse that crowd at the end of future parades (Harben; interviewed in CAPITAL Q, 23/4/93). This response illustrates perfectly the conservative tendency of the Association as an institution which seeks primarily to preserve its own existence and power. A far more radical and challenging approach would be to encourage the street party or even move the traditional dance party at the showground out into the streets in an attempt to facilitate greater communication between gay and straight people. Harben and other community dignitaries have expressed a valid concern over existing levels of violence and a reluctance to precipitate any action that might aggravate this situation. A street party would certainly be more dangerous and difficult to control, but the cost of that danger must be weighed against the potentially significant breakthroughs that may occur by opening the community to outside access. This begs the question that I will be approaching in chapter five, that given the prevailing gay/lesbian coalition political preference for empowerment over liberation, is the 'opening' of that community even a relevant contemporary issue? I shall argue that as unpopular and politically unfashionable as it may seem, it is. In what sense is the Mardi Gras festival a spectacle? It's a tourist attraction, a cultural event, a media event; whether one is supportive or hostile, it is hard to escape knowledge of the annual appearance of Mardi Gras on the Sydney cultural landscape every February. As a spectacle, Mardi Gras raises the profile of the gay and lesbian community well beyond its otherwise marginalised status. It forces many in the greater Sydney community to recognise the existence of a lifestyle, an identity, a community, who ordinarily remain invisible. Media coverage extends the boundaries of the event not just around Australia, but around the world. Footage of the Mardi Gras parade has been aired on television as far afield as Italy, the USA, UK and Japan 12. Such exposure is however, a double edged sword; whilst the parade may project images of sincere and well intentioned messages held aloft with pride on banners and floats, it is the projection itself which overrides those micro messages with its own message of the event. In classical Mc Luhan parlance; 'the medium is the message'. That which is deemed suitable to be transmitted via the medium of television must be spectacular. The images projected through television portray the parade as a collection of narrow visual adjectives; as carnival, as debauchery, as licentiousness, and decadence. Juxtapose these with the already negatively value laden terms lesbian/gay, and the message sinks lower into one of degeneracy. Debord portrays the spectacle as creating an environment of 'reciprocal alienation'. This is directly at odds with the intention of the promoters who see it as an opportunity to raise both the visibility of the gay and lesbian community in Sydney, as well as promoting an environment of celebration in which barriers can be dropped, prejudices overcome and the great divide between gay and straight narrowed. I do think that this does happen to a great extent and the gap between theory and practice must be recognised for what it is. The theoretical constructs that I identify in the name of Mardi Gras the spectacle are only one face of Mardi Gras the event. Certainly it is a spectacle and it does embody all of the negative connotations that that label implies, but there is a warm side to the Mardi Gras, a human and a personal side. For all that the viewer indulges in the carnival and circus atmosphere of the Mardi Gras, few would escape untouched by the more positive messages portrayed, or by the general overall ambience of the occasion, which is one of a very good vibe. However, given the current size of the parade and the inevitability of its continuing growth in the near future, greater mass media coverage is also inevitable. It is important to understand that much as the live spectator experiences the event as a spectacular representation, the tendency toward spectacle is greatly magnified when transmitted through the mediums of TV, radio and print. Without doubt, many viewers for example may watch coverage of Mardi Gras in a spirit of good humour and sympathetic indulgence, but the message that they carry away from their experience is one that reinforces the stereotypical assumptions of homosexuals as being hedonistic libertines. Just analysing the Sydney coverage of the 1993 parade, every major TV station, radio station and newspaper reported the event in their news bulletins, and whilst the coverage was ostensibly sympathetic, it was limited, generalistic, and dismissive of any messages exhibited within the parade, beyond that of Mardi Gras as street party. No attempt was made on any television news bulletin to explain the why of the parade, or indeed provide any background information on an event which is quite probably perceived by the overwhelming majority of the Sydney population as a strange and possibly threatening occurrence. The implication behind the tone of the reporting seemed to be; 'well, those wild and crazy homosexuals are at it again .. .its Mardi Gras, but don't be alarmed, it'll be all over soon!' Certain current affairs programmes such as A CURRENT AFFAIR on channel 9 (26/2/93) and the 7:30 REPORT on channel 2 (26/2/93) did run a more comprehensive feature on the parade, but given that the event attracted an estimated half million spectators, even this was paltry. In comparison, the Bathurst 12 hour car race (which attracts a crowd of only 45 000) is televised in its entirety, as is the ANZAC day march, which can barely muster 25 000 spectators (Marsh; 1993, p.78). The crucial point is, of what value to the gay and lesbian community is such (limited but intense) media coverage? What value is a raising of visibility if that visibility is then projected in images of negative or misleading stereotypes? The essence of Debord's thesis on the spectacle (Debord; 1977) is that the spectacle always reinforces separation; the Mardi Gras as spectacle projects an image that is counter to the stated aims of the Mardi Gras Association, who in turn misleadingly claim to be representing the gay and lesbian community. The parade does have enormous cultural value for the city of Sydney as a moment of street theatre, and the festival in its entirety is a significant cultural achievement. Mardi Gras plays a pivotal role in the construction of a gay community identity in Sydney and of broadcasting that identity to the rest of Sydney, Australia and indeed, the world. What I question is not just the efficacy of Mardi Gras -or its organisers- in constructing or manipulating the message of gay and lesbian pride, but moreover, the quintessential value of the message itself; its inherent emphasis on separation, its inverted elitism and its congenital failure to overcome the pejorative connotations associated with minority status. In defence of the intentions of the Mardi Gras Association -who have consistently maintained that the parade is run by and for gay men and lesbians and would continue even if no one watched- no one is to blame for the creation of Mardi Gras the spectacle. Neither should any should searching post partum analysis question 'where did we go wrong?' Nothing is essentially wrong with the parade as a spectacle, nor as an instance of officially santioned, authorised transgression, but it must be identified as such ... as a product, as a saleable commodity, not as a political protest, an educative tool, nor even as a venue for the establishment of better gay/straight relations in Sydney. Mardi Gras as the spectacular representation of gay and lesbian life in Sydney in its current incarnation will only ever serve to reinforce the divisions and perpetuate the discrimination embodied in the epistemology of the homosexual as the other. Ironically, this reinforcement is supported from within the community itself...Mardi Gras is the annual enactment of the opening of the closet -a closet that shuts again immediately after the parade is over. 9.7 CHAPTER S: Tearing down the closet? As at the time of writing this thesis, the Sydney gay and lesbian community was embroiled in a heated debate concerning the right to recognition and the inclusion of other sexual minority groups under the rubric of gay and lesbian community. Most notably, during the special general meeting of the Gay and Lesbian Rights Lobby (GLRL) on 20/4/93, activists supporting the rights of transgender and bisexual people argued passionately for greater recognition and support from the community that they regard as being as much theirs as it is strictly gay male or lesbian (CAPITAL Q, 23/4/93, P.l). This rupture within the community has prompted a degree of soul searching -akin to the painful reconstructions that gay and lesbian movements overseas have undertaken- which makes obvious the unequal relations of power within any community social organisation and provides the perfect environment for a critical analysis of the aims and the sensibility that that community embodies. Opposing the challenge to the constitution of the Lobby's charter by an 80% majority, the members of the GLRL registered a strong determination to preserve the status quo and keep the lobby working specifically in the interests of gay men and lesbians. Several interesting arguments were presented on both sides; Leading transgender activist Norrie May Welby stated that "gay and lesbian rights ...... are not solely the entitlement...... of those who are in identification as gay and lesbian, but are the basic human rights of all people, including people bisexual and people with transgender issues."(CAPITAL Q, 23/4/93, p.3). Arguing against this campaign, Richard Cobden 1 succinctly expressed the prevailing view of the members of the Lobby when he stated; "If we adopt that kind of thinking, we will collapse into a morass of vagueness and lack of focus. The key words in the (GLRL) are lesbian and gay. There may be those who say that lesbian and gay includes bisexual, transgender, pansexual, queer- to me they don't."(CAPITAL Q, 23/4/93, p.3). Clearly, this discord revolves around the disputed right of access to a power base represented by the GLRL in particular and the gay and lesbian community in a broader sense, that demonstrates the tendency toward conservatism definitionally inherent in those structures as they generate their own power. The possession of power is such that it must be preserved against all challenges. Any questioning of the raison d'etre of the institution must be treated as a hostile action, regardless of whether that questioning occurs inside or outside the institution's domain. The clear message delivered by the GLRL vote was that the gay and lesbian community, and the social movements that purport to represent that community act in the interests of those who identify as belonging specifically to the gay and lesbian identity. However, many other identities exist largely within that community also. The deliberate exclusion of what may be seen as minority groups within an established minority indicates not only the inflexible nature of that community's will to question preconceived stereotypes of sexuality, but an overwhelming support for and defence of gay and lesbian identity as a species apart from all other human species. To indulge a flight of fancy, one wonders where the continuing reinforcement and politico/legal legitimation of gay/lesbian identity will lead ... Perhaps in an imaginary near future a radical gay and lesbian separatist movement will agitate for the secession of the community from the newly formed Republic of Australia? Or to apply a contemporary Jewish analogy, much as many Jewish migrants fleeing the former Soviet Union hold passports that identify them as Jews2 will the same situation eventuate with homosexuals? QUEER IDENTITY At a wider level of discourse, Simon Watney conducts a semantic investigation into the terminology currently employed in gay and lesbian activism. He claims that 'gay' has come to signify (particularly in the USA) "White and 30 something and male and materialistic."(Watney, 1992, p.20). This term, long since abandoned by homosexual women in favour of the more exclusive term lesbian, does not represent other, already marginalised groups of homosexual men such as young blacks and Hispanics, or for that matter, the rising voices of bisexual and transgender lobbies. It seems as though a rift has opened in the gay and lesbian community between those who came out in the 70's and early 80's and those who have come out in the late 80's and 90's. These later, younger 'queers' are establishing the more confrontational, militant activist groups such as Queer Nation, Outrage, ACTUP and Queercore. They are aggressive and fiercely proud of their sexuality, which they are not afraid to identify by appropriating the straight world's denigrative sobriquet 'queer'. Like young black Americans proudly adopting the label 'nigger', they have taken the worst of the mainstream's abuse and turned it on its head. Queer is a new political position; not merely one that craves acceptance through polite lobbying and government funded programmes3, but one that seeks to bring back the radical into gay rights. If the gay libbers of the 70's mellowed with age, this is the new 'revolutionary' breed. A queer identity is not only destabilising of both gay/lesbian and straight/heterosexual identities, it is gleefully so. In its most undiluted form, queer represents the most significant challenge to the essentialist assumptions of all identity based sexual politics since the eruption of gay liberation in the early 1970's. For those who have grown up over the past decade, any serious exploration of ones sexuality has been forced to take into account the implications of AIDS. Coming out in the late 70's, gay men in particular celebrated their 'liberation' by pursuing an ideal of hedonistic promiscuity ... but for that matter, the 70's have generally been characterised as a time of greater sexual freedom for all. However, with the rising spectre of AIDS in the mid 80's came a need for the reconsideration of and perhaps a more careful scrutiny of the nature of ones sexual desire. The 'new' discursive sexual positions of gay and lesbian created in the 70's have been challenged in the 1990's by people who refuse to accept the easy compartmentalisation of either sexual desire and/or gender identity into clearly defined and delimitable types. Queer is the recognition of the subject as sexually decentred and non gender specific. Queer theory has fractured all previously conceived assumptions of what it is to be gay or lesbian. More than this though, it questions the very basis of all human sexuality by rejecting all accepted definitions of what it is to be a man or a woman. These identities according to Judith Butler (Butler;1990) are normative, culturally specific and discursively unstable. In relation to gay and lesbian identity, if we have no stable notion of gender, how can we begin to argue the case for a gender preference based sexual politics such as gay and lesbian rights? Using feminist rhetoric as an example, Butler says; "Feminist critique ought to understand how the category of 'women', the subject of feminism, is produced and restrained by the very structures of power through which emancipation is sought."(Butler; 1990, p.2). The same can be said for gay and lesbian coalition politics. To continue, as Butler says, writing the 'subject before the law' (ie in this case 'the homosexual') into the law is not in any way to emancipate that subject, but to reaffirm the structure of power that produced the homosexual as victim in the first place. Queer theory is the first attempt to question the thinking behind sexual political activism -the underlying discourse of sexuality- to reveal the structure of power and oppression that dominates all modem human sexuality. Understandably, it has not been without problem and the subject of vociferous conservative gay criticism. Perhaps NSW Labor MLC Paul O'Grady4 put it most succinctly when he wrote; "What is the transgender/bisexual/pansexual/love-is-boundless agenda? What do other queer identifying but non gay and lesbian people want that is not part of the (GLRL) Lobby's aims? Recognition? Acceptance? Love? These are things that the gay and lesbian community can work towards. They are not a specific policy program that a serious lobby group can place before a legislative body." (CAPITAL Q, 23/4/93, p.4) Herein lies the raison d'etre of the liberal democratic social movement; without a 'serious' fOO political agenda, ie something that not only addresses existing legislation, but that is defined within that legislation, there can be no movement, no social change, no change to the existing power balance. It is for this reason that supporters of queer theory have been so consistently attacked by what would seem to be members of their own team .. Voicing their 'radical' opinions most often from a position within the ranks of gay and lesbian coalition politics, they represent a destabilising force potentially far more damaging to the cause of gay and lesbian rights than any hostile external attack could hope to achieve. I argue that the gay/lesbian coalition lobbies are not redefining the terms in which we conceive sexuality, they are merely appropriating more power and space within those terms for their own interests. It may reasonably be said that their primary aim is to have gay and lesbian sexuality recognised as being 'normal'. This is not the same thing as questioning the very foundation of that normative definition of sexuality. They are not tearing down the closet that isolates them from the rest of humanity, they are renovating and extending the boundaries of that closet. Queer theory is the first serious attempt to challenge those boundaries. The epistemology of sexuality still relies on the inadequate and inappropriate duality of identification of desire for man or woman. Thus we have three possible categories only; hetero, homo, or bi (Sedgwick, 1990). These categories are far too broad and rigid, they make no allowance for the multitude of identities within and between each category. They also make no allowance for changes over time ... once labelled ( or identified with a label) people tend to stay labelled, or suffer when they fail to live up to their assigned label. As Watney says; "For example, to describe onesself as 'homosexual' is immediately to inhabit a pseudo-scientific theory of sexuality which more properly belongs to the age of the steam engine than to the late twentieth century. The most that 'homosexuals' can (politely) ask for is "tolerance", since the 'homosexual' has already accepted marginalisation in his or her core identity. Homosexual identity should thus be understood as a strategic position which privileges heterosexuality."(Watney, 1992, p.20). The self identified 'homosexual' is therefore complicit in his or her own oppression. Watney questions the legitimacy of terms such as gay culture and gay community. He sees the totalising effect of such all encompassing terms to be reductive of the actual diversity of personalities in gay men and women. Is there a 'truth' about all gay people? The idea of creating a culture based on sexuality is to inhabit the same epistemological space as the 19th century discourse of sexuality which originally 'created' the 10\ Expected page number is blank in the original print copy. homosexual. Whilst sexuality is undoubtedly affected by cultural influences, can there be such a thing as a sexual culture? Quite obviously it is possible and it does exist in contemporary gay and lesbian community, but the problem that I am addressing is that we are not escaping that quintessentially modem epistemologically based categorisation of sexuality by creating a gay and lesbian community, we are reinforcing it. In Foucault's terms, the episteme further unfolds. If we accept that the discourse of sexuality is epistemologically flawed, then the queer critique of gay and lesbian identity, politics and community is justified. "It should be recognised that the fundamental strategic problem facing contemporary gay politics is not the word 'queer' but the word 'homosexual', together with its acceptance as a term of personal identity. Having lost sight of its initial contestation of the classificatory terms of sexuality."(Watney, 1992, p.20). Gay politics has too often been side-tracked into chasing equal rights for their minority and legitimation of their culture and community -again as a minority- rather than challenging the actual nature of the classification itself. To this end, those who say that the Mardi Gras will always be a gay and lesbian event are reacting to their oppression in exactly the same manner as that oppressive force has been used to keep them oppressed; ie defence of power through elitism and exclusionary tactics. A 'gay' Mardi Gras will always reinforce the otherness of homosexuals and serve to reinforce the minority status of the 'gay community'. That community itself, while being self identified may indeed gain acceptance and equal rights for its constituents within the wider community, but so long as it clings to the notion of culture based on sexual identity will always be other than and inferior to the heterosexist mainstream community. The most important question for gay politics today is; do we wish to become a well respected minority, or to break down that fundamental division of people according to their sexuality and assimilate so effectively in the mainstream that the gay community (as a symbolic, fortress like embattlement) disappears? A popular argument in favour of the discourse of gay community is that the community provides a good stepping stone on the way to assimilation and a return to the mainstream. Contrary to this, I would suggest that the gay and lesbian community will become a permanently separated 'junior member' of the mainstream whole. I hope that my argument has been clear enough to demonstrate how the discourse of community linked with the discourse of sexuality can in no way be a step toward the deconstruction of the current division of sexuality, it is and must always be, a step away from that ideal. If this 'queer ideal' is accepted, the creation of the gay community as a minority community is a political 103 nonsequitur; it is not so much an advance for the cause of gay politics as a reinforcement of the division of sexuality which has characterised modem society since the early 19th century. Mardi Gras has been crucial to the development of the gay and lesbian community and continues to provide the ideal platform from which the challenge of radical sexual politics -of all persuasions- can be launched. Mardi Gras should continue to grow and challenge the still existing sexual and social boundaries of Australian society. In reply to Mardi Gras Association president Susan Harben's musing on the "vexed problems" of how to deal with the size and policing of the parade (CAPITAL Q, 23/4/93, p.5), the answer to me is simple; put the radicalism back into sexual expression. Expand the political agenda of Mardi Gras and the gay and lesbian community in general beyond the narrow interests of those (few) people who identify with the gay and lesbian ideal. As it stands at the moment, the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras occupies a conservative, protectionist position which, curiously would seem to be anathema to its initial intentions back in 1978. MARDI GRAS AS AN OPEN CLOSET? Sure the people revelling in the Mardi Gras parade are 'out'; they're right out and flaunting it, but they are still alienated from the rest of society. Mardi Gras is still a demonstration of the liberalist authorised transgression. I argue that those who have 'come out' never actually got out of the stifling oppression of the closet, they just opened the door and let in a little air. By maintaining Mardi Gras as a fiercely protective and elitist gay event, the Mardi Gras association is itself holding up the walls of the closet. This is akin to a form of voluntary 'sexual apartheid'. Certainly the association is faced with a catch 22 and is dragged frequently across the jagged rocks of what seems to be perpetual community discord. I am by no means advocating the immediate assimilation of the 'straight hordes' into this most unique of Sydney cultural events... to do so would spell disaster for the gay community and the small progress that it has made in creating acceptance and equal rights for gay men and lesbians in Sydney. But by the same token, to continually resist the inevitable pressure from 'outside' (to say nothing of those second level interior minorities such as the transgender/bisexual lobbies) to participate under their own banner will do nothing to break down the barriers between gays and straights in Sydney and Australian society. In a society that assumes one is heterosexual, it has always seemed unusual to me that the proclamation of ones difference from the norm performed in the spirit of 104- 'liberation' is called coming out Certainly it is a confession of the harbouring of desires that one has (presumably) been hiding, an opening for scrutiny of ones most personal beliefs and desires, but it is simultaneously an act of voluntarily confining onesself in an enclosure set apart from the rest of society. In this sense, the same act of declaration could be labelled 'getting in'. This is not to say that the act of coming out is not an important personal and political statement. nor is it to say that it is not a liberation of some form, but that in as much as the individual liberates him/herself in the act of coming out, they also erect new barriers around which they must organise their life. These barriers are the ones that the gay community represents in an 'official', or legitimate capacity. The Mardi Gras, being the largest celebration of gay pride in Australia is also the most visible barrier between the gay and the straight societies. If sex/gender liberation -as the resurrected ideal of queer theory- can be made the aim of Mardi Gras, then a serious and deliberate attempt to reduce that barrier is possible. Sedgwick asserted that "Closetedness itself is a performance initiated as such by the speech act of a silence -not a particular silence, but a silence that accrues particularity by fits and starts, in relation to the discourse that surrounds and differentially constitutes it."(Sedgwick, 1990, p.3). Silence; the inability or the unwillingness to signal ones different sexual desire is one half of the closet, but it cannot be considered without also recognising that it is what one does say that equally defines the boundaries of one's personal sexual space. To be 'out' is to occupy a very particular social space that immediately positions the proclaimer in a fixed relation to the given norm. Furthermore, coming out is not something that a person does once and then puts behind them to get on with life, it is a constant act of declaration. Silence is assumed again and again to be support for and identification with the norm. All people who actively participate in Mardi Gras are involved in a mass coming out, or re-declaration if you like of their homosexuality in front of an ever increasing -and significantly, ever more straight- audience. Without a doubt this is an ideal environment in which to come out, but in doing so the individual is indicating his/her willingness to accept the second dimension of the closet, to remain marginalised and a social pariah. Regardless of how big the Mardi Gras gets, it can in its current format only ever remain by definition a minority event and a celebration of that minority. Ethnic communities occupy a similar, though slightly more (politically) advanced position in Australian society. Though there exists anti discrimination legislation prohibiting the vilification of individuals according to their race, many ethnic minorities remain largely ghettoised and a deep current of racism still runs through the mainstream of Australian society. For the ethnic minority -say the Vietnamese their minority status l(.')£ is displayed in the features of their face; their cage, such as it is, is obvious to all. In a sense this makes it easier to fight because by being on public display all the time (except when cloistered within the walls of the ghetto) the fight is constant and clearly defined. Gay people however are not constantly displaying their homosexuality and when they do display it, it tends to affirm the difference and fortify the resistance among the straight mass to assimilate and accept that there is no real difference. Thus, Mardi Gras as a mass public declaration of one's homosexuality actually redefines the boundaries of oppression that keep gay people apart. It is easy to misunderstand this point if I have not made it clearly; I am not at all suggesting that gay people should not come out or that they should not celebrate with pride their achievement in coming out in events like Mardi Gras, but that there must be an effort made now to raise the consciousness of gay and straight alike of the inherent irrationality of the classification of humanity according to sexual preference. This awareness will not be created by the enshrining in law of homosexual anti vilification legislation; such an amendment to the anti discrimination act will only reinforce an act which is conceptually flawed, because it encourages the creation of certain 'protected species' of humanity who require special treatment and consideration as being other than normal. REVEALING THE SECRET... THE DISCOURSE OF DISCLOSURE: "It is a rather amazing fact that, of the very many dimensions along which the genital activity of one person can be differentiated from that of another (dimensions that include preference for certain acts, certain zones or sensations, certain physical types, a certain frequency, certain symbolic investments, certain relations of age or power, a certain species, a certain number of participants, etc, etc,), precisely one, the gender of object choice, emerged from the turn of the century as the dimension, denoted by the now ubiquitous category of 'sexual orientation'."(Sedgwick, 1990, p.8). To reiterate Foucault; "The homosexual was now a species."(Foucault;l978, p.43). Sex has been presented in modem times as something clandestine, a force within the individual which only an expert can interpret correctly. The whole discourse of psychoanalysis was founded on the assumption that all people repress certain urges quite unknowingly and require the guidance of an expert in disclosing what these urges might be. In the case of urges considered unnatural (still identified as such in many Australian states), cures and/or punishment could be meted out accordingly. Sexuality thus became firstly the subject of medicine and then, the subject of law. The obsessive need to disclose one's sexuality was traced by Foucault back to the church confessional, in which "desire was turned into discourse with the aim of affecting desire by discourse."(Foucault, 1978, p.166). It was hoped that confession would provide a cleansing and purging function, thereby enabling the individual -the sinner- to reach closer to God. What in fact occurred was a further excitation and interest in the subject matter on the part of all parties concerned and a resultant intensification of the focus of energy on sexuality. The confessional obsession is with us today, having spread from the Catholic church via the Protestant reformation to the scientific discourses of medicine, psychoanalysis and law and can be seen as the primary motive behind the obsessive 'coming out' of gay consciousness. Gay politics is a confessionally based movement. The confessional relationship remains one of unequal power; the person needing to confess willingly submits to the scrutiny and the discipline of the confessor; mainstream society. In return he is 'liberated' from the burden of guilt he has carried by harbouring a 'secret', in this instance his homosexuality. The gay person coming out in the cold climate of the straight society is tragically replaying this same drama and can hold no hope of ever claiming equality with the (structurally superior) confessor -who, it should be noted is believed to be above all sexuality. So, it was according to church interpreted scriptural law that the 'boundaries' of sexuality were drawn up, enshrining the genitally centred, heterosexual (monogamous) procreative function as the one legitimate sex, and all other manifestations of the sexual urge in a descending order of opprobrium. The terms of sexuality are too often taken as given. The categories of homosex or heterosex are considered absolute. For a better understanding of the reasons why prejudice exists favouring the latter against the former, it is necessary to deconstruct the terms. Contemporary gay and lesbian movements operate from the primary assumption that there is such a thing as the 'homosexual' and that homosexual people can be represented as a group. Homosexuality is always considered in a satellite relation to the stellar body of heterosexuality. If heterosexuality is represented by the term A, then homosexuality is the term b. Heterosexuality being normatively centred and considered a priori the natural state of man, places homosexuality in an inferior and peripheral position. This essentially means that no matter how hard gay rights activists may fight for human rights, whilst the categories of homosexual and heterosexual exist, homosexuals cannot by definition ever be considered the equal of heterosexuals. It is essential to question where the assumption of the naturalness of heterosexuality originated in order to establish that the homosexual is not abnormal, or unnatural. The agenda then for gay rights activism would not be that 'gay people are normal' but that 'straight people are not normal' and further, that the whole idea of 'normal' is (I would suggest deliberately) misleading. As Sedgwick points out, modem western society 107 revolves around an unstable axis of nonnative definitions (Sedgwick, 1990, p.11 ). She mentions masculine/feminine, public/private, natural/artificial, and majority/minority, to name just a few dyadic divisions which place the individual in a certain relationship vis-a-vis 'the society' which remains forever central, right and good. In perfonning the constant, 'ritual' act of coming out, one may signal one's same sex desire by wearing a certain style of clothes, adopting a certain look, attitude, or lifestyle, frequenting or living in a particular area, or waving a flag and shouting it from the rooftops. Nevertheless, in a society that assumes one's heterosexuality until proven otherwise, the gay person will still be taken for heterosexual with monotonous regularity. This implicit heterosexism constantly re-places the gay person in the position of possessing a 'secret', which try as he/she might to make it as open and as plain as possible will still come as a shock to many other members of the mainstream society. Heterosexism represents a steady burying force against which the out individual must constantly struggle, to claim the right paradoxically, to a relocation in the closet that is gay and lesbian community. When I suggest the need for the removal of labels such as homosexual/gay/lesbian and heterosexual/straight, I am not in any way suggesting that this will in principle change everybody's sexuality into a society of omni or pan sexual beings. I am not advocating that everyone should go out and try something they've never tried before; I am merely stating the need to remove from sex the personification of types of sex with types of people. Certainly, people are different, but we can celebrate that difference in a non judgemental way. The recognition and acceptance of the lack of nonns in sex would go a long way toward achieving this aim. As I stated before, sexuality in all fonns is bounded by a number of binarisms, two of the most important being public/private and secrecy/disclosure. A popular liberal maxim is that what you do in the privacy of your own home is your own business, so long as you don't offend anyone else. There are two points to make clear here: a) What constitutes the dividing line between what can be expressed in public and what cannot? b) What is in the interest of the public? On the first issue as an example, displays of affection such as holding hands and kissing are perfectly acceptable in most Australian public spaces if conducted as a display of heterosexual affection, they are accepted on the unconscious level without the conscious association of those acts as signalling sexual behaviour. But the sight of two men walking hand in hand through a busy suburban shopping mall still elicits hoots of derision, aghast sidelong glances and worse, the threat of violence to the impudent queers who dare 'flaunt' their sexuality in 10'6 public. These identical acts are considered for one group of people acceptable in public and for another group, decidedly not for public display, because it makes apparent in the second group those acts which are not acceptable for anyone to perform in public. The homosexual is thus simultaneously vilified in absentia for keeping dirty secrets if in the closet, but persecuted for practicing what should not be expressed in public if out. This leads to the second, much thornier question; What is in the interests of 'the public'? What is 'right' to be seen in public? The very act of coming out is, in the sense that it is an act of confrontation of another's preconceived notion about yourself, an attack on that individual. It is a de facto invasion of their privacy by mentioning those acts which are properly carried out in private. Even though the recipient of this knowledge does not (presumably ... though can one ever presume?) participate in such acts, their own private sexual acts are conjured into full view simply by conversational association. The assertion 'I am gay' spoken in a revelatory way requires a response that locates specifically the listener's sexuality and attitudes toward those many 'secrets' of sex. Even to be non committal, or give no reply at all, there is no escaping in the listeners mind the reciprocal question; 'am I gay?' or 'how do I feel about homosexuality?' It is in this sense that coming out is commonly conceived in conservative society as being an invasive and distasteful display. The actual acts themselves, while they remain secret are much easier to handle because they do not require the forced examination of one's own sexuality -the playing of one's hand. So the popular (conservative) conception of homosexuality might best be expressed as 'we all know that such things occur, but we really don't need to talk about them do we?' The straight person generally considers their sexuality to be private and expects the same of 'those others'. The conflict then exists in what one considers to be an expression of sexuality. In the case of gay people in most Australian environments, the innocuous act of holding hands is considered by many to be an overtly sexual gesture. 'SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS ARE GAY!' Who hasn't heard this condescending and demeaning line a hundred times? Who hasn't used it? Whether as an assertion of fact, an apology, a claim for some kind of kudos or whatever, the crux of the statement's meaning lies in the willing public admission of a knowledge of a certain body of acts that occur in private and which begs the question in the listener's mind; 'how do you know such things?' The boundary of public and private discourse is neatly encapsulated in Sedgwick's term 'institutionalised ignorance.' (Sedgwick, 1990). It is the challenge to this ignorance (which equates with that ultimate Christian virtue, innocence) that creates the friction associated with the act of coming out, more than the acts called homosexual do themselves. Expected page number is blank in the original print copy. There is no denying that the open admission of one's homosexuality is an empowering act, because it challenges the existing order, it breaches the institutional ignorance, it demands a response. Not surprisingly, that response is invariably in the negative when the revelation of someone else's sexuality comes like a slap in the face; 'how dare you breach my careful avoidance of sex in public!' Coming out is in a sense a verbal exhibitionism, a disclosure of secrets, a peek (wanted or not) into the private (read seamy and distasteful) world of another human being. The closet being a two way barrier, it is the imposition of difference where the recipient does not wish to acknowledge difference. A hangover from the puritanism of the Victorian era, all sexuality has been seen as unclean and not a fit topic for polite conversation. The 'sexual revolution' of the 1960's can be read as a coming out of sex in general; from being hidden behind wide skirts, knowing glances and innuendo, public sex has exploded over movie screens, newspapers and magazines, out of school curicula and church pulpits, sex has become increasingly visible over the course of the past 30 years. But this is not to suggest that any of the many closets in which sex dwells have been tom down, indeed they have not. The boundaries still exist; some things still remain private, most notably public nudity (except in very specific locations and under the strictest of guidelines) and almost all acts of sexual exchange. It is interesting that the cinema and the magazine act as closets themselves in which many sexual acts can be viewed in a form of collective privacy, as do many semi public/private spaces such as brothels, sex bars, saunas, etc (Sedgwick, 1990). The boundaries may have shifted and expanded considerably, but they still exist in very much the same form as they did when they were created in the late 19th century. Foucault's 'open secret' of sexuality may be more open in the 1990's, but it is still decidedly secretive. Nietzsche said in THE GAY SCIENCE; "The way men usually are, it takes a name to make something visible to them."(Nietzsche, 1974, p.218). This is so illustrative of the compulsion to reveal that drives the discourse of sexuality. What use is a closet if the contents inside cannot be revealed? Disclosure is a primary motive force behind all sexuality today. The media is full of it; titillation, innuendo, double entendre ... eroticism without involvement, we thrive on it. But, it can only be exciting if there remains the knowledge that something remains hidden! This is what makes the Mardi Gras so exciting for legions of straight observers; the much wanted peek inside the closet which serves as an indulgent titillation, but does not at any stage indicate that those same people want the closet to be tom down forevermore. To do so would be a gross violation of the protocol of disclosure and an affront to the decency of 'normal, right 111 thinking folk.' The knowledge that most of the leading spokespeople for Mardi Gras are resolutely determined to keep Mardi Gras exclusively homosexual indicates their support for this kind of thinking too. 112 CONCLUSION If most people consider biology, or nature, to be fixed, immutable and given, then they also consider culture to be flexible and pre-eminently changeable. Whilst this is certainly true to a small extent, (as the changes wrought by numerous social movements over the past 20 odd years have shown) I tend to think of culture as being an immense, semi inert body -metaphysically more that physiological- more or less fixed at any one point in time, constrained by patterns of thinking and being, that Foucault identified as epistemic, but subject to evolutionary pressures in much the same manner as is nature. This is not to confuse evolution with any teleological notion of historical destiny, but merely to assert that as with all massive bodies, culture is extremely slow moving and difficult to change. The social movements that have created an environment of change within western society since the 1960's, are themselves a part of a greater structural shift in the late stages of the 'project of modernity'. As such, the progress that these movements make is strictly limited by the structure of the episteme that encapsulates them. So, they can by definition only go so far; gay and lesbian rights is in a sense limited by its own discursive myopia. The construction of the gay and lesbian community as a legitimate minority is the next step in the same process that created the homosexual as a species. When Foucault said; "The sodomite had been a temporary aberration; the homosexual was now a species"(Foucault, 1978, p.43) he was defining that epistemological denouement that has now further unfolded to incorporate that species as a discrete community. Afterall, it would seem only 'natural' that a species once identified should seek to express itself in the language and structure of community. To reiterate the analogy employed in chapter 5, this constitutes a peculiar brand of sexual apartheid, in which the gay community itself seems not only complicit, but active in establishing. Should the ne plus ultra of gay rights activism be the deconstruction of the gay species? Given the prevailing trend of current activism this would seem most unlikely and equally, quite abhorrent to those people who have become accustomed to and proud of their homosexual identity. It is entirely likely that the homosexual will become - through the auspices and hard work of the gay and lesbian activist community- a well respected and maybe even an accepted (but still irremediably inferior) member of mainstream society. But this is no closer to what I see as being the ultimate goal of the reintegration of the homosexual as a person and not the present isolation of the homosexual, the alien. Or, will gay identity consolidate as a culturally specific position, 113 more than just a lifestyle, perhaps acquiring an historical significance that will transcend the thinking of our age? Will the homosexual become like the Jew; part race, part species, part religion ... a unique and distinctive culture, simultaneously exalted and vilified, mythologised and misunderstood -as much by those inside as those without? This seems to be the way gay culture is heading and in fact the Jewish analogy seems to hold particular currency for those active in the creation of the gay and lesbian community. For example, in defending the right of Mardi Gras to remain exclusively gay and lesbian, the Association secretary Richard Cobden said recently; "The point about a synagogue is to preserve Jewish traditions. Similarly the point to a gay and lesbian Mardi Gras is to preserve gay and lesbian traditions."(SSO, 17/4/92,p.15). It is also interesting to note the corollary made by Wayne Dynes 1 that just as gay communities the world over coalesce around a core 'ghetto', the first ghettos were created in Medieval European towns with the specific intention of isolating Jews from gentiles. Whilst this comparison is in no way intended as a judgemental criticism of either homosexuality or Judaism, as an historical analogy of a process of exclusion facilitating a strengthening of identity it is quite thought provoking. Further initiatives in the expansion and consolidation of the Sydney gay and lesbian community -echoing processes already well under way in the United States- are the appropriation by the community of the tools of institutional production; gay schools and hospitals, gay political parties, gay museums... The upshot of all this is, I think, that the closet -that is, the community as a closet- will not be torn down, it will be expanded and renovated, it will be a palace more than a prison, a fortress more than a dungeon, but an enclosure nonetheless. The homosexual as a species represents western rationality at its most irrational. It represents an unfortunate division between people that is growing stronger and a rift that is getting deeper, when what I feel we need most is to bring people closer together; a rededication to the original principles of sexual liberation that inspired the very creation of gay and lesbian community. Recently, at the largest ever civil rights march in U.S. history2, one speaker addressed the crowd with the words; "They used to say gay. Then they learned to say lesbian and gay. Now they are learning to say lesbian, gay and bisexual. Insist that they learn to say lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender."(SSO, 30/4/93, p.7) Well, is that it? Is that the limit of creativity in the classification of modern western human sexuality? With the identification and legitimation of each of these discrete discursive postures do we now possess a phylogenetic order of the sub species lwmo sexualis? Why is it so 114 difficult to recognise that each new division is symptomatic of the flawed logic (what Sedgwick (1990) called a conceptual incoherence), that created the problem of the separation of the homosexual from the rest of humanity in the first place. As I have so ardently stated throughout this text, the identification of new minorities only reinforces the existing structure of dominance and repression, not only of those minorities, but of all sexuality. With every new 'sexual minority' culturally inscribed, new walls are revealed, new divisions constructed which increasingly highlight to the straight/heterosexual masses the particular boundaries of their own closet. The empowerment of the sexual minorities seems to be having the ironic and amusing effect of making some heterosexual 'normal' people feel alienated and embattled, perhaps revealing the tyranny of conformity for what it is. To a certain extent this may be a good turn of events if it makes those people realise the extent of the prejudice and discrimination that they implicitly supported by identifying with the norm and endorsing the (absurd) dyadic equation normal/abnormal, natural/unnatural. Perhaps it is only when those who consider themselves to be normal realise that there are too many others to be conveniently called abnormal that we can successfully deconstruct the whole myth of the discourse of sexuality. The position of Mardi Gras in this facilitation of an epistemic rupture should be as a leader in the challenge to all assumptions on sexuality. Sexuality in all its forms can be celebrated in a radical, confrontational and celebratory way under the rubric of Mardi Gras. Certainly this must be done in a gradual fashion, I'm not suggesting that Mardi Gras should throw open its doors for all comers in 1994, but the first step in that process of change is the recognition that change must occur. To willfully hang onto the gay and lesbian tag is to jealously guard an inferior identity, to preciously hoard a not inconsiderable power, at the expense of the far more liberative ideal of the emancipation of sexuality/gender identity from the sterile clutches of politico-legal discourse. Throughout this thesis I have argued from the implicit assumption that a radical position is a good position. This so far unquestioned assertion has been the foundation of my critique of the transformation of Mardi Gras, which I identify as having moved from an initially radical discursive position to one of liberal democratic neo conservatism. Why do I assume that (for Mardi Gras at least) a radical position is a good position? Simply because in a society in which inequality is not only structural but taken for granted, the only effective strategy of revealing and challenging that order is 115 through radical means. This is not meant to imply that the radical position is in Hegelian terms antithetical to the dominant3; there may at any one time be a multiplicity of alternative discursive positions, the existence of which can each equally challenge the sedimentary forces of the assumed order. Mardi Gras was and could again be a platform from which just such a challenge is made on the assumptions, stereotypes, archetypes, and caricatures that presently inhabit the modern rationalist discourse of sexuality. As it stands now, Mardi Gras is not a challenge to this order, but its reinforcement. Queer, as a discursive position is about accepting the impossibility of representing gender and gender/sexual preference in language and therefore, in discourse. Queer is in a sense, willfully oxymoronic; a deliberately disruptive influence both within and outside the domain of gay and lesbian politics ... the essence of queer theory is, why write into law that which cannot be expressed in language? Gender and sexuality are irrational; the feelings and identity of the individual cannot be spoken for as those of a whole society and so, should not be the subject of law. The only effective challenge upon the largely hidden forces within our culture that oppress certain aspects of gender and sexuality is not through political campaigning and lobbying, not through law reform or closeting onesself in the cosy confines of a ghetto-community, but through the radical subversive acts of parody of the stereotypes and celebration of the unknown. What do I mean by the unknown? Merely that we all have a certain (by no means absolute) knowledge of our own sex/gender identity and proclivities, but we can assume no such a priori knowledge of anybody else. To do so is to immediately inhabit the constrictive environment of discursive stereotyping. Why parody and celebration? That which is unknown cannot be set up in opposition to that which is identified as being false. There is -and can be- no opposition to the existing heterosexual norm. To assume that there is an opposition is to validate the position one is fighting against and to reduce the complexity of the issue to the two dimensional plane of the dialectic. The fight of gay and lesbian rights as it exists now is in no sense a radical challenge to the logical existence of the norm, it is the struggle to become part of that mythological norm. To be written into law is to become 'normal'. Queer is the outright rejection of the very idea normal. Parody is subversive of that position because it reveals through over-identification the absurdity of the position, whilst celebration is subversive because in the absence of any identifiable opposition to what is accepted as normal, the only sensible position to occupy is the exaltation of difference. This exaltation undermines the validity of the defensive normative equation by robbing the 'high side' of the power relationship of its assumed moral superiority. 116 Mardi Gras currently occupies a position as a celebration of a stereotype of sexuality that is distinctly unique to the modem western world. As a celebration of that particular stereotype it is also unique in the modern western world. In this sense, as an open, state approved, officially recognised celebration of gay and lesbian pride, Mardi Gras is a remarkable achievement. But, it is crucial at what I consider to be this juncture in its brief history to consider the implications of continuing as an elitist gay and lesbian event, which must by definition constitute a conservative defense of its position rather than an attack on existing stereotypes. Alternatively, the Mardi Gras Association can consider the possibilities of taking up the queer challenge, and open up Mardi Gras for the benefit of all who wish to express through parody and celebration their dissatisfaction with the constrictive boundaries of gender and sexuality as they presently exist. Of course, even the most casual observer of Mardi Gras can identify in its current manifestation a very high degree of both parody and celebration of difference, but these occur strictly on the superficial level. Admittedly this is the most visible level -and indeed it is the high camp of the mincing drag queens and the leather clad dykes on bikes that gamer the most attention in the straight media- but these images are seized upon and highlighted as the 'truth' of homosexuality. They reinforce existing stereotypes that locate the homosexual in an other to relationship with heterosexuality rather than being portrayed as difference in a normless melange. The parody currently exhibited in Mardi Gras is potentially subversive, if it were not for the insistence of Mardi Gras defining itself as an exclusively gay and lesbian event. By doing so, the cross dressing and gender ambiguity so characteristic of Mardi Gras is also signified as being characteristic or stereotypical of the homosexual. The overwhelming message received by the straight audience who surround the parade is one of prideful, exhibitionistic selfparody rather than the more challenging and subversive parody of gender roles as an absolute concept. The easy assumption to make is that these behaviours only occur within the confines of the gay and lesbian community, which is patently untrue. The challenge to this assumption can only be issued from a parade that flagrantly disregards all gender/sex role conventions. In the confusion of witnessing gender ambiguity and not knowing for sure that the perpetrator is 'one of those' homosexuals, the spectator is forced to confront his/her own preconceptions of gender and sexuality. Suddenly the 'natural' world is not all that it seemed. This deliberate attempt to incite confusion is willful, playful and exciting. This is the radical 'queer' position that Mardi Gras could potentially occupy. 117 The bottom line of my argument is that contrary to current trends, sex/gender/sexuality should be written out of the law. Instead of creating new (protectionist) legislation that further enshrines or imprisons the various sub species homo sexualis, all reference to the social behaviour of individuals in Australian society according to the constitution of their sexuality or gender identity should be removed as far as possible from law. Doubtlessly there are problems associated with this stance, such as; a) Where do we draw the line? Does this mean I am advocating or condoning such acts as Pederasty, rape and incest? According to their current -culturally conceived definitions, no it does not. Consensuality in any social exchange should remain the perogative of the individual, regardless of whether that exchange be sexual, economic, political, physical, emotional, intellectual, etc, or any combination thereof. b) How do we unlearn practices so deeply engraved in our sociality? A bit like the anti nuclear conundrum; how do we unmake the bomb? As I stated earlier, culture is extremely slow moving, but a good start can be made by rethinking the aims and objectives of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras, to take up the challenge and put the radicalism back into what has become a very tame event. Of course, this is a very easy statement to make and I am aware of the quantum leap that exists between sideline prognostications and actual, affirmative executive decisions, but the point remains; someone has to play the devil's advocate and raise the difficult questions. In a social environment in which gay and lesbian rights are perceived to be 'coming of age' such a position is entirely appropriate and necessary for the planning of future directions of those organisations. This is the role that I have undertaken. I am by no means suggesting that I have the answers to the numerous vexing questions that I have raised in this thesis. Social change is invariably a lugubrious rather than a revolutionary process. I do not expect any radical change to come of the propositions raised herein. I am fully aware that in reality, there are homosexuals and a gay and lesbian community, just as there are heterosexuals and a dominant straight society, with a big ugly streak of homophobia written into it. For me as a relative outsider to suggest that the basis of identity of a whole community of individuals - people who have fought long and hard for that identity- is theoretically questionable, is not only an affront to the sincere achievements of gay and lesbian rights activists, but potentially a deep personal insult to anyone who bears (with pride) those identities. That being the case, it must equally be said that any questioning of homosexual identity is also ipso facto, a questioning of heterosexual identity ... perhaps this will leave me with no friends at all! Indeed, it has been my intention throughout to be deliberately 118 polemical. My only defense is that far from being intended as an attack upon the gay and lesbian community, homosexuality per se, or on the outstanding work of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Association, my aim is to facilitate the opening of a forum for discussion on a broader level than currently exists about the questions of sex/gender identity, the spirit of community, and the future role of Mardi Gras in the greater cultural edification of all people living in Sydney and indeed Australian society. 119 NOTES Introduction 1. Chapter one will provide a more detailed exposition of the methodological basis of my enquiry. 2. This statement will be qualified in chapter five. Chapter one 1. Seebohm, K. (1990), "An Historical Geography of a Symbolic Landscape: The Sydney Mardi Gras", Thesis, University of Sydney. 2. According to Foucault, though for the purposes of my study, the actual date is not important. Chapter two 1. Currently being debated in the NSW House of Representatives (May, 1993). 2. Marsh, I. Environmental Impact Study; "The Public Benefit of Community Celebration: Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras", May, 1993. Commissioned by the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Assn. 3. Touraine, A. (1985), "An Introduction to the Study of Social Movements", SOCIAL RESEARCH, 52, (4). 4. At the federal level there is a minister advising the Prime Minister on the status of women, and a minister for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander's Affairs. 5. Kinsey, A. (1968), SEXUAL BEHAVIOUR IN THE HUMAN MALE, W.B. Saunders, Philadelphia. 6. Kinsey, Ibid., p.650. 120 7. A less well publicised statistic from the same study suggested that 46% of American males engage in some homoerotic behaviour at some stage during their life (Kinsey; 1968, p.658). 8. CAMP co-founder John Ware appeared on the ABC TV programme THIS DAY TONIGHT on 2119no to discuss gay liberation and the CAMP manifesto. 9. Source; SMH, 28/11/92. 10. See chapter 3(b). 11. Similar studies conducted by Shere Hite during the mid 1970's on male and female sexuality indicate that there are significant numbers of both sexes (25% female and 4% male) who do or have participated in homoerotic activity, but who do not consider it to be a significant feature of their personal identity (Hite; 1976, p.395, Hite; 1981, p.811 ). 12. Three out of six Australian states still list sodomy as a criminal offence. 13. Undoubtedly, those claims listed previously as the 'All I want for Christmas' wishlist are still personal matters, but they are community related issues more than they are personal ones. 14. This is a far cry from a decade earlier, during and after which the 1983 parade received not a single mention in any mainstream media source ... despite the fact that there were approximately 15 000 participants marching, tens of thousands watching and traffic was disrupted on five major city streets (Wotherspoon; 1991, p.13). 15. See the letters page of all Sydney gay and lesbian periodicals immediately after Mardi Gras in any of the past six or so years. 16. SSO, reporting on complaints aired at the April 1993 Mardi Gras Association open discussion meeting. 17. Prior to the 1993 parade, the Association was embroiled in a controversial debate over the ethical validity of a $33 000 PLAYBOY MAGAZINE sponsorship deal, in which (split 8-4) the Association decided that the image represented by the PLAYBOY bunny logo was contrary to the interests of the majority in the gay and lesbian community (CAPITAL Q; 5/2/93). This is one obvious conflict of interest which the 121 Association effectively resolved, but as the stakes get higher and the issues (or the sub text of the sponsorship) become less clearly defined, will a loss of integrity inevitably occur? 18. Marsh, I. Environmental Impact Study; "The Public Benefit of Community Celebration; Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras", May 1993. 19. Though as I observed before with the Greenpeace analogy, social movements can be viewed on one level as being a very lucrative industry. 20. 1993 Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras programme, p.68. 21. See post Parade letters section of any Sydney gay male periodical in the years 1988- 90. Chapter three 1. Perhaps this is the case anyway. I will shortly argue a strong case against the communitarian, segregationist desires of social groups like that currently represented by the Sydney gay and lesbian community. 2. Clean Up The World; A multinational non profit organisation dedicated to an ethos of global community tidiness. The Sydney office is located at 123 Harris Street, Pyrmont. 3. Wotherspoon, G. CITY OF THE PLAIN, Hale & lremonger, Sydney, 1991. As so little scholarship has been conducted on the history of gay Sydney, much of this (necessarily brief) commentary is drawn from this secondary source. Primary source material was not consulted because this project is confined to a history of the Mardi Gras and not a general history of homosexuality in Sydney. 4. SYDNEY MORNING HERALD, 14/5/93. 5. WICKED WOMEN, Wicked Women Publications, Sydney. 6. See the "Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Guide", 1993, for details. 122 7. Six out of fourteen of the current board members (including the president) are lesbian. Chapter rour 1. Marsh, I. (1993) "Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras: The Public Benefits of Community Celebration", Environmental Impact Study, p.80. 2. Mardi Gras attracted a total of 573 000 people to its 1993 festival during the month of February. It received no financial support from any government body. The Festival of Sydney in the preceding month on the other hand attracted a similar crowd of 576 000, but was sponsored to the tune of $1.9 million through various government agencies. (AGSM EIS, p. 78-81). 3. No arrests were made during the 1993 parade. This compares most favourably with other major events such as the New Years Eve harbourside festivities, during which 840 arrests were made in a crowd estimated at 500 000. (AGSM EIS, p.79). 4. Galbraith, L. "Celebration and Hysteria: A Story of the Sydney Gay Mardi Gras", 1985. 5. Prominent Sydney gay journalist and historian Larry Galbraith covers this issue more fully in his unpublished manuscript "A History of the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras". 6. This idea will be explored more fully in chapter five. 7. CAM, July 1988. 8. They had previously lost their dispute with the SCC. 9. CAM Jan 1985. 10. "Police May Join Gay Mardi Gras", SMH, 4/6/93. 11. Freud, S. THREE CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE THEORY OF SEX, Imago, London. 123 12. SSO; Feb. 1993. Chapter five 1. Secretary of the Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Association. 2. 7:30 REPORT, ABC TV, 27/4/93. 3. 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(1991) "The Body Electric -Human Sexuality and the Mass Media", JNL OF HOMOSEXUALITY, Worsley, P. (1978) MODERN SOCIOLOGY, Penguin, New York. Wotherspoon, G. (1991) CITY OF THE PLAIN, Hale & Iremonger, Sydney. 133 APPENDIX A: Gay Freedom Day Committee for Cultural Affairs. This was the 'letter from America' that prompted the first Mardi Gras in 1978. 134 Gay Freedom Day Committee for Cultural Affairs March 8, 1978 Dear Friends: As representatives of San Francisco's large and active gay community, we are encouraging world-wide activities for gay rights June 25th and the week before in order to present the largest and most unified show of support in history. For the past several years, in the United States (and abroad), parades and other activities have been held the last week in June to commemorate the Stonewall Riots, the beginning of the modern gay liberation movement in this country. Last year, due to an outpouring of emotion (the parade was only a few weeks after the defeat in Miami and the murder of a gay man here in San Francisco) 375,000 participated in San Francisco's parade, and smaller parades and demonstrations were held across this country and abroad (in Barcelona, London and Amsterdam, for example). We expect the parade to be a large, if not larger, this year due to 1) campaigns by anti-homosexual forces, such as John Briggs in California and Anita Bryant, which are challenging our very existence, plus 2) an increasing pride and openness by gay people. We urge lesbians and gay men in your community to: 1) Have a parade, march, demonstration on June 25th, 2) Have speakers, films, or other events concerning gay pride during the week before June 25th. 3) If possible, send representatives of your community to be with us in San Francisco in our parade, 4) Send us support statements (letters, telegrams). Imagine the positive impression millions of people marching peacefully and proudly for gay rights will have on world opinion! Please share this letter with your friends. Sincerely Paula Bud Community Participation Committee APPENDIX B: Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras Ltd. PARADE 1993, Information for Participants. 135 SYDNEY GAY & LESBIAN MARDI GRAS LTD INFORMATION FOR PARTICIPANTS acn 003 973 635 limited Thank you for your interest in participating in our annual celebration of lesbian and gay culture, the 1993 Mardi Gras Parade. I would personally like to ask you to consider the following strategies for 1993: 1. The Parade Comm.ittee is hoping that Parade entries will incorporate some elements from the Mardi Gras poster. The successful designer of Mardi Gras' entries has used the rainbow colours with streamers and flags in our floats as well as carrying these elenwnts through in other areas such as the marching boys and girls and the cash collection. Why not consider how these elements can be used in your entry? The poster and design sketches will be available at the Mardi Gras office. 2. The lesbian and gay community has a wealth of design talent that can assist in realising your inspiration. I am not suggesting an expensive or complex design, but merely remind you that Mardi Gras is available to help and direct you to those with the experience and talent to make your dream come true. Whether it is simply a graphic layout for a banner or choreographing a dance routine, please call us for help. Please note that there will be no deposit or fee required for community entries and walking groups. I look forward to your contribution on 27 February, 1993. Have a fun Parade!!! Best wishes Philip Diment Parade Co-ordinator box 1064, darlinghurst, nsw 2010, australia. acn 003 973 635 ph (02) 332 4088. fx (02) 332 2969 \193 CONDITIONS OF ENTRY 1. The Parade entry fee for business groups is $150.00. 2. All vehicle entries must provide a minimum of two marshals to accompany their entry. If you are unable to provide two marshals, you can pay $150.00 and we will provide two marshals for you (walking groups do not require marshals). 3. No live animals are allowed in the Parade. 4. All vehicles must comply with the Motor Traffic Regulations Act: i) Maximum height of 4.3m (14ft) from the roadway. ii) Maximum width of 2.Sm (8ft). iii) Maximum length 11m (35ft) iv) No articulated vehicles are allowed in the Parade. v) All headlights, rear lights and side mirrors must be visible and working. vi) Front and rear number plates must be visible. vii) All standard traffic requirements must be met to & from the Parade. These regulations will be enforced. Please plan carefully and contact us if you are unsure about these regulations. 5. All generators must be fitted with an earth leakage safety switch or device in order to cut the power from the generator in case of hazard or emergency. · 6. The person in charge of your float or group, the driver (if applicable) and marshals must attend a briefing meeting, time to be advised. If none of these people are able to attend, please tell us who will be attending in their place. If you do not attend this meeting your entry will be withdrawn from the Parade. You will be notified of the meeting time in January. IMPORTANT! ENTRIES CLOSE 5 FEBRUARY 1993 COMPLETE APPLICATION DETAILS ON NEXT PAGE I ,£ASE COMPLETE ALL DETAILS ON THIS FORM: Name of individual or organisation ...... Community group or business?...... ame and address of contact person/organiser...... ...... ~ ...... Phone...... '...... :...... (H) ...... (Wk) Brief description of your entry...... ...... pproximate length of entry in n1etres ...... ill you be using a motor vehicle? ...... ow many people will be with your entry? Participants ...... Marshals ...... Drivers ...... ill you be using a generator for: Lighting? ...... Sound? ...... If yes, what size? ...... KVa ~="..".:~·~~cess~f~nv" . P~~ : : ·: : : : .. ~::::::::::::::: ;::; •:". .-.:~. a~~,~~: °.f.~ .. ~ ..~I l. ··.·.·.·.·.. · . .· :.·.·.·.·.·.· ··.·.·. . : ~~~:~.·:.·::.·::::: ·::: :: ·: ::.· e: ::::. :::·::::::: :::::::::: ::;::; ame and address of Marshal 2 ...... ~~ =~:::;;~ U~~ ;:~;:~ ;~;~~,: Phone . ~ (H ) ...... (Wk) 1 We the undersigned u derstand that Sydney Gay & Les bi n "~ras Ltd (acn 003 973 635) assumes no esponsibility for any cla1 s which may arise as a result of ou:k~r business participating in the 1993 ydney Gay & Lesbian Mar · Gras Parade to be held on 2 ruary 1993. We agree to be bound by the co itions of entry and to obey th instructions of designated Sydney Gay & esbian Mardi Gras Marshals at all ·mes before and for the duration of the Parade. ignature...... Name ...... itle/position...... usiness en tries must enclose a cheque/money order fo r $150.00 as a parade entry fee. Please indicate whether you require a eceipt ...... HE SYDNEY GAY AND LESBIAN MARDI GRAS WORKSHOP lfhe workshop is a community facility which operates all year round, but our busiest time is the three months leading up to the Mardi Gras Parade and Party: We have a number of experienced artists who will help you with techniques, choice of materials and use of tools. As their are many people with many and varied needs at this hectic time, please be patient and understanding: everything will work out fine!!! You are welcome to drop in to the workshop at any time, but if you have major queries or problems it would be best to make an appointment with senior staff. If you want to use the workshop for your parade entry, please call us early or you may miss out on a space. IMardi .Gras is a community organisation and as such the materials and tools of the workshop !are a community resource. Please use materials sparingly and check with staff first before using - it may be reserved for something else. Tools can be dangerous, so do not use power tools without telling staff and ensuring that you are using the equipment correctly and have the appropriate safety gear. Do not park in the car park at any time during the week. There may be space available on weekends. The following guidelines are to facilitate a safe and creative environment for workshop staff, volunteers and visitors: 1. You must wear decent shoes at all times - no thongs or sandals. 2. Check with staff before using any power tool and ensure you have the appropriate protective gear. 3. As some materials are toxic, check with staff before using paints, plastics, solvents or glues to ensure that you have adequate protection and ventilation. 4. Always use a groundsheet when painting, and wash your brushes. 5. Return tools to the tool board or where you found them, and return any unused materials to stock. 6. Please help out wherever possible by keeping the kitchen dean and pushing the occasional broom. 7. Enjoy yourself! The workshop is located at the rear of 15-19 Boundary St, Rushcutters Bay. Telephone: 361 6081/3324088 Fax: 332 2969 HANDY HINTS FOR PARADE NIGHT 1. Automatic clutches help with slow speeds. , 2. Oxford street is a steady incline and the parade route is more than a few kilometres so make your entry as light as possible. 3. Drivers should ensure that they have clear visibility. 4. Do not run with hazard lights on for too long. 5. As the Parade moves slowly, check your water, oil and brakes. 6. You cannot burn candles, torches, use fireworks or flares. 7. Carry spare fuel for your generator and a funnel. 8. Waterproof where possible or use waterproof glue and paint. 9. Bring an emergency repair kit with tape, glue, string, fuses, tools etc . .10 ...... And it will not be the first time that someone has run out of petrol - so make sure you have enough fuel. SEE YOU THERE !!!