A sure sign of a political movement's maturity is the discretion it shows in
picking its leaders. Which is why gay groups could show how grown up they
are by excommunicating James McGreevey.
McGreevey, you will recall, was the corrupt governor of New Jersey who was
forced to resign when it was revealed that he had appointed Golan Cipel, a
poet, to run his state's homeland security department in the hope that Cipel
would become the governor's male concubine. McGreevey came out of the closet
only after Cipel threatened to sue him for sexual harassment.
McGreevey denies accusations that he plied Cipel with Jagermeister shots and
sexually assaulted him. He says it was a real "love affair" first
consummated while McGreevey's wife was in the hospital recovering from her
Caesarian section delivery of their daughter. Cipel says he and McGreevey
never had sex.
Whatever the truth, it's clear that McGreevey only came out because the
wheels were coming off his political career. He tried to leap to safety by
grabbing on to the guardrail of identity politics, declaring with
focus-group clarity: "My truth is that I am a gay American." That
formulation - "my truth" - was exquisitely postmodern, implying that truth
isn't something we can all lay claim to anymore. It must be personalized,
relativized. It's all about me.
By buying into this secular gospel, McGreevey appears to think that he can
be cleansed of his sins. But real redemption requires admitting your
mistakes, not merely the prurient details. As the Philadelphia Inquirer's
Monica Yant Kinney notes: "McGreevey didn't come clean. He just came out."
In his memoir, "The Confession," McGreevey offers any number of revelations,
but they don't add up to a confession. "Some things I'd done, or allowed to
be done in my name, were morally repugnant to me," he writes, presumably
referring to the various aides, mentors and backers facing criminal charges
or mired in scandal. But he dealt with that by "forgetting" or never
allowing himself to know. "I had my people strike back-room deals I kept
myself in the dark about or forced from my mind if I learned too much.
Obviously this is one root of my memory problems."
Translation: "I feel so guilty about my corruption I can't remember it. But
hey, would you like to hear about my gay trysts at truck stops? I remember
those perfectly."
"I'd taken a million ethical shortcuts to climb the ladder," McGreevey
admits, "all the time thinking that that was the only way to amass enough
power to serve the collective good." Of course, his definition of the
"collective good" was narrowly tailored. As a politician, he opposed gay
marriage even though he claims he yearned for a healthy gay relationship. If
I can't have one, no one can, seems to be the gist of his reasoning.
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