Buried Truths About Gays in the
Military
Why it's time to end
"don't ask, don't tell"
Steve Chapman | February 8,
2010
John McCain sounded this
theme at a Senate hearing the other day, arguing that the existing law rests on
the belief "that the essence of military capability is good order and unit
cohesion, and that any practice which puts those goals at unacceptable risk can
be restricted." A group of retired military officers said the ban on gays
serves "to protect unit cohesion and morale." Maybe this concern is what really
underlies the exclusion of gays and lesbians. But I'm not so sure. In 2007,
Gen. Peter Pace, then chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, was asked about
it, and he offered a different rationale. "I believe homosexual acts
between two individuals are immoral and that we should not condone immoral
acts," he said. Could the opposition stem mostly from a simple aversion to
gays and their ways? It's not completely
implausible that in a military environment, open homosexuality might wreak
havoc on order and morale. But the striking thing about these claims is that
they exist in a fact-free zone. From all the dire predictions, you would think
a lifting of the ban would be an unprecedented leap into the dark, orchestrated
by people who know nothing of the demands of military life. As it happens, we now have
a wealth of experience on which to evaluate the policy. When you examine it,
you discover the reason McCain and Co. make a point of never mentioning it. A couple of dozen countries
already allow gays in uniform—including allies that have fought alongside our
troops, such as Britain, Canada, and Australia. Just as there is plenty of
opposition in the U.S. ranks, there was plenty of opposition when they changed
their policies. In Canada, 45 percent of
service members said they would not work with gay colleagues, and a majority of
British soldiers and sailors rejected the idea. There were warnings that hordes
of military personnel would quit and promising youngsters would refuse to
enlist. But when the new day arrived,
it turned out to be a big, fat non-event. The Canadian government reported
"no effect." The British government observed "a marked lack of
reaction." An Australian veterans group that opposed admitting gays later
admitted that the services "have not had a lot of difficulty in this
area." Israel, being small,
surrounded by hostile powers, and obsessed with security, can't afford to
jeopardize its military strength for the sake of prissy ventures in political
correctness. But its military not only accepts gays, it provides benefits to
their same-sex partners, as it does with spouses. Has that policy sapped
Israel's military might? Its enemies don't seem eager to test the proposition. You could argue that none
of these experiences is relevant, since, being Americans, we are utterly
unique. But our soldiers don't seem to have any trouble fighting alongside gay
soldiers from allied nations. Not only that, but it turns
out the U.S. military itself has tried the same policy with satisfactory
results. Former Joint Chiefs Chairman Gen. John Shalikashvili has pointed out
that "enforcement of the ban was suspended without problems during the
Persian Gulf War, and there were no reports of angry departures." That's right: We fought a
war without the ban, and we won. In a pinch, our heterosexual men and women in
uniform confirmed, they can function perfectly well amid openly gay colleagues. That shouldn't be
surprising, since the military requires its members to live with all sorts of
people in close quarters and demanding conditions. A lot of recruits would be
more leery of bunking next to an ex-con than a homosexual, but the military
admits hundreds of felons each year, including some violent ones. If unit
cohesion can survive the presence of killers, rapists, and child molesters, why
would it shatter on contact with gays and lesbians? All recent experience
argues that the American military would adapt fine to accepting gays. But when
it comes to actual real-world evidence, supporters of the ban don't ask, and
they don't tell.