1987: the anti-gay law Section 28 made its first appearance in Parliament. It was to mark a turning point in the lesbian, gay and bisexual movement. The story of the Section is a story of the bigotry of Tories, the power of mass mobilisation, the potential of the labour movement, the weakness of Labour leaders, the challenges for the future, and of the courage, pride and imagination of people fighting back.
Bigoted beginnings
Section 28 can be traced back to a Department of Education and Science circular, DES206/86, issued on 6 August 1986. It stated that, “There is no place in any school in any circumstances for teaching which advocates homosexual behaviour, which presents it as the ‘norm’, or which encourages homosexual experimentation by pupils.”
Later the same year, the Local Government Act 1986 (Amendment) Bill was proposed in the House of Lords by the Earl of Halsbury. Halsbury’s motivation lay with his attitude towards gay sexuality, spelt out in his proposing speech. He attacked those gay men he saw as, “the sick ones who suffer from a psychological syndrome”, giving their “symptoms” as exhibitionism, promiscuity, proselytising and boasting, adding that, “they act as reservoirs for venereal diseases of all kinds.”
The Bill, on its First Reading, enjoyed the unanimous support of Their Bigoted Lordships. Lord Longford chipped in with his view that, “Homosexuals, in my submission, are handicapped people… the tragedy of such people is that they cannot enjoy family life and they cannot have children.” Lord Denning boasted of having imprisoned many people for having anal sex, and then declared that, “We must not allow this cult of homosexuality, making it equal with heterosexuality, to develop in our land. We must preserve our moral and spiritual values which have come down through the centuries.”
The supporters of Section 28 were later to claim that neither they nor their proposal were anti-gay.
Halsbury’s Bill was taken to the House of Commons by Birmingham’s biggest bigot, Dame Jill Knight MP. It did not become law, as the Tory Government promised to think about it and bring it back in a more suitable form at a later date. It took them less than a year to keep that promise.
The local government left
The focus of the Tories’ anger was that some Labour councils had taken initiatives in support of lesbian and gay rights. Tory MP Harry Greenaway was disgusted at Ealing Council for suggesting to schools that they post notices about a lesbian and gay switchboard. Greenaway denounced this as, “wrong, because it is an incitement to children.” (An incitement to do what? Get advice? Ask questions? Not try to kill themselves?)
He was equally incensed that the same Council had advertised for a Lesbian and Gay Officer, and had included in the job description the task of promoting, “positive images of lesbians and gay men in the community.”
The prime target of Tory hysteria was the book Jenny Lives with Eric and Martin, about two gay men and their daughter. A copy of this book was stocked in an Inner London Education Authority (ILEA) teachers’ resource centre. Tory MP David Wilshire was appalled by a book which, “portrays a child living with two men … [and] clearly shows that as an acceptable family relationship.”
The Tories saw homophobia as a useful weapon to whip up hostility towards Labour. In the 1987 General Election they had billboards posted declaring that Labour intended to force kids to read books entitled Young, Gay and Proud, and Black Lesbian in White America. Both very good books, apparently, and useful in bringing up youngsters not to be queerbashers, but, to the Tories’ PR people, an excellent example of Labour’s lunacy and immorality.
A favourite pursuit of gutter press hacks was to sniff out Town Hall tales of “loony left” councils and their efforts for minority groups. The bigots and queerbashers found their most helpful allies writing in the tabloids.
Work by Labour councils on lesbian and gay issues had begun in earnest in the early 1980s. The Labour left made sizeable inroads into local government, winning control of several metropolitan and borough councils in London and other big cities. At the same time, the Tory Government made attacking local government one of its main priorities (along with attacking trade unions.) Central government funding to councils was cut, “ratecapping” introduced to limit expenditure, councils’ powers reduced, and metropolitan councils such as the Greater London Council (GLC) abolished. Next on the Tories’ list was the Poll Tax.
The left councils said that they would fight the Tories. They promised to continue to provide jobs and services for local working-class people, and to take on the laws and cuts that sought to prevent them doing so. But one by one, these councils — amongst them the GLC, Lambeth, Brent and Liverpool — gave up that fight. They put up rates, cut services and made shabby deals with the Tory Government.
The councils tried to maintain the illusion of radicalism by putting money into projects such as women’s centres, race equality units, and lesbian and gay switchboards. This work was valuable and worthwhile: the problem was that it was done as an alternative to taking on the Tories. Equality issues were seen as different from, rather than integral to, working-class politics.
The effect of the councils’ actions was to fertilise the ground for a homophobic backlash. People are much more likely to resent a council funding a lesbian and gay centre if, at the same time, it cuts their granny’s meals on wheels. If, alternatively, the councils had fought the Tory Government for decent funding, defending the rights of all sections of the local community to the services they need, then lesbians and gay men would have been on the same side as pensioners, tenants, library users, teachers, parents, benefit claimants, trade unionists, youth clubs, refugee groups, sports players, students, trainees and their local Labour Party. A working class united in action soon sees the need to throw away prejudices. That is the opportunity that the local government “left” refused to take.
Return of the clause
The legislation returned to Parliament in December 1987. More closely focused on the activities of local authorities, it was proposed by Tory MP David Wilshire as an amendment to the Local Government Bill. Introduced in Standing Committee A on 8 December, it was known at first as Clause 14. (Stop Clause 14 badges had a short shelf-life, as it became Clause 27, then 28, then 29, then 28 again. Merchandisers to the movement soon gave up their reprints and stuck with Stop the Clause!).
Wiltshire’s new Clause read as follows:
“Local authorities shall not:
(a) promote homosexuality or publish material for the promotion of homosexuality;
(b) promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship.”
At this time, local authorities had much greater responsibility for schools than they do now. The new clause was used by its proponents to demonise both homosexuality and local government — a two-pronged assault on both freedom and democracy.
The new clause referred to lesbian, gay and bisexual people’s families as “pretended.” People who loved and cared for children in the face of discrimination and prejudice found their lives dismissed as a sham. It was to become an article of law that same-sex desire was incompatible with the ability to form “acceptable” relationships or families.
The clause broke new ground for bigotry, as it was the first law to proscribe homosexuality as a sexuality; previous laws had criminalised same-sex sexual acts. With this new clause, being lesbian, being gay, being bisexual, was branded undesirable, not to be supported, never to be condoned.
The bigots were determined that young people could not be told that it is OK to be gay. This includes kids whose parents, siblings, neighbours or friends may be lesbian, gay or bisexual. It also includes youngsters who are considering whether they themselves may not be heterosexual. The isolation, rejection and fear confronting these young people causes them untold stress. Surveys quoted during the Parliamentary debate on Section 28 showed that around one in five gay youth had attempted suicide.
If it is not OK to be gay, then presumably it is OK to disapprove of gays. If the Government can discriminate against lesbian, gay and bisexual people, then why shouldn’t anyone else? Wilshire’s clause implied that it was better to be a queerbasher than a queer, better a suicide than a happy homo.
Section 28’s ban on the “promotion” of homosexuality in schools is an issue not just of lesbian, gay and bisexual rights, but of youth rights. It seeks to deny all young people the opportunity to come to a balanced, informed decision about their own sexuality. A law which claimed to “protect children” actually proposed to leave them vulnerable, isolated, confused and unsupported.
The clause explicitly sought to put an end to those local authority and school initiatives that could help lesbian, gay and bisexual people: advertising of helplines, books about homosexual lives, support groups. The irony is that it is the prevalence of homophobia that makes such services necessary.
Wilshire’s ludicrous and contradictory claim was that, “the new clause is not anti-homosexual in nature. I believe that society needs to understand homosexuals and that homosexuals must not be discriminated against. Nevertheless, I am certain that society has the right to prevent homosexuals encouraging others to be homosexuals.”
If proof were needed of the clause’s homophobia, it could be found in the rise in violent anti-gay attacks that accompanied its passage into law. In December 1987, arsonists firebombed the offices of newspaper Capital Gay. Tory MP Dame Elaine Kellet-Bowman refused to condemn this, arguing that, “it is quite right that there should be an intolerance of evil.” Soon after, a gay pub in Rochester was attacked with teargas bombs, and gay Labour MP Chris Smith reported that “the number of queerbashing attacks on gay men and lesbians has dramatically increased during the past year.” Section 28 was a bigots’ charter.
Opposition? What opposition?
What was the Labour front bench’s reaction to the new clause? The Party whose policy committed it to supporting equality, and whose councils were under attack, was represented on this issue by Shadow Home Secretary Jack Cunningham. He stated in Committee:
“I speak on behalf of the Labour Party when I say that it is not, and never has been, the duty or responsibility of either a local or education authority to promote homosexuality… The Labour Party does not believe that councils or schools should promote homosexuality… I intend to support [the clause].”
Cunningham was particularly keen on the opening paragraph of the clause (“… shall not promote homosexuality …”), stating that, “We do not wish to change that in any way, shape or form.” He allowed the clause to be agreed by the Committee without a division (vote).
Neil Kinnock’s Labour Party was developing an irritating tendency to jump to Tory orders. A Tory would challenge Labour leaders to distance the party from someone who was doing something radical, and the reply would come: yes sir, of course sir. A Labour London Borough has said something nice about lesbians and gay men. Do you condemn them? Yes, of course. Will you support our clause? Yes, of course. Nothing was said about those Tory (and Liberal, and Labour) councils which did nothing for their lesbian, gay and bisexual citizens, that allowed homophobia to go unchallenged.
The only real opposition to the clause when it first appeared in Committee was from Labour MP Bernie Grant. Labour’s later opposition came once anti-clause protests had started.
Liberal spokesperson Simon Hughes MP made it clear that “the initial part of the clause … had the support of the Liberal party.” Gay Tory MP Michael Brown flew the flag for self-hatred when he opined, “Of course I accept that it is necessary to protect children and to ensure that irresponsible local authorities do not promote homosexuality.”
Out on the streets
Outside Parliament, people were not so reticent in opposing homophobia. The delicious irony of Section 28 is that a law which sought to ban the promotion of homosexuality actually prompted the biggest promotion of homosexuality that Britain had ever seen. Lesbians, gay men, bisexuals and our heterosexual supporters got active in protest against the homophobes.
Activists in Manchester formed the North West Campaign for Lesbian and Gay Equality, which adopted a tube station logo declaring that we were Never Going Underground. In early 1988, the campaign organised a demonstration which brought around 25,000 people to the streets of Manchester. A huge variety of people and groups marched against the clause, and celebs galore spoke of their support at the post-march rally in the Free Trade Hall.
In April, a national demonstration was held in London. The North West Campaign chartered a train which brought 1,000 marchers to swell the crowd to more than 30,000. “Stop the Clause” groups sprang up in most towns and cities, and organised local protests to complement national action.
Direct action boosted the profile of protests. One evening, the Six O’Clock News headlines were disrupted by shouts of, “Stop Clause 28!” A couple of intrepid lesbians had snuck into the BBC’s studios and attached themselves to Sue Lawley’s desk. Nicholas Witchell’s attempts to restrain them prompted a tabloid headline the following morning of “TV Newsman Sits on Lesbian.”
When the clause was debated in the Lords, protesting dykes abseiled from the public gallery down to the floor of the House. If you read Hansard’s record of the Parliamentary debate, you will be sickened by the outpouring of bigotry. You may also be heartened by some of the speeches against the clause. You will no doubt be entertained by the frequent reprimands from the Speaker to the protesters in the public gallery.
The campaign against the clause was active, involving and creative. Its unapologetic pride inspired people to come out of the closet in record numbers. Phonelines, support groups and social events can all help people through the difficult process of coming out. But there is nothing quite as helpful as seeing thousands of people taking up banners and marching in support of your right to be out and proud.
It should be remembered that this was a lesbian and gay movement with no Pink Paper, no Stonewall, no Outrage!, no TV and radio shows. All these were to follow in the wake of Section 28 becoming law. Attendance at Pride hit a new record in 1988. Numbers taking part in the march and festival are of a different order post-Section than pre-Section.
Grass-roots labour movement activists did not generally share the weakness of their leaders. Many Labour Party and trade union branches passed resolutions condemning the clause, and supported action against it. Trade unionists were concerned both to protect workers — especially teachers and local government workers — from the clause, and to bring to the anti-clause movement the politics of solidarity.
Trade Unionists Against Section 28 (TUAS), set up in January 1988, promoted opposition to the clause amongst unions, and defiance of the Section once it became law. TUAS saw lesbian and gay rights as a labour movement issue: the working class has a fundamental interest in tackling prejudice. So TUAS — which involved trade unionists of all sexualities — also took its banner against homophobia to picket lines and to demonstrations on issue such as abortion rights.
Law and defiance
No doubt inspired by campaigners, some Labour MPs made decent speeches against the clause in Parliament. Others made naff speeches. Paul Flynn and Clare Short insisted that councils supporting lesbian and gay rights were few and far between. Others argued that it was impossible to promote homosexuality and therefore unnecessary to legislate against it: the point, however, is that there is nothing wrong with promoting homosexuality in a world which so enthusiastically promotes heterosexuality.
When Tory Home Secretary Michael Howard quoted Labour Party policy urging councils to support lesbian and gay issues, Jack Cunningham denounced his comments as an outrageous slur on the Party.
The Tory majority ensured that Section 28 became law in May 1988. However, the strength of the protest movement limited the damage it could inflict. No local authority has ever been prosecuted under the Section. Some councils were threatened with legal action: the threats proved to be idle.
Campaigners and trade unionists urged defiance of the new law. Schools should teach objectively about homosexuality; local authorities should continue initiatives against homophobia. Such defiance would, we argued, a law already weakened by the mass opposition it had provoked of any real power.
However, many councils backed off and practised self-censorship to avoid any chance of prosecution. Labour councils scrapped or scaled down projects in support of lesbians, gay men and bisexuals. (Few Tory councils were running such projects in the first place.)
Edinburgh City Council refused funding to the Scottish Homosexual Action Group for a lesbian and gay festival, having provided funding before the Section. The London Boroughs Grants Scheme compelled groups receiving funding to sign an agreement to comply with Section 28. East Sussex Council withdrew a youth directory because it listed a lesbian and gay group.
Some local education authorities decided that they could no longer allow Lesbian and Gay Societies to exist in further education colleges, which were at the time still under LEA control. Essex County Council was advised that lesbian and gay further education (and some higher education) students should not be allowed to meet on college premises. Similarly, the Principal of Kitson College (now Leeds College of Technology) banned the Lesbian and Gay Society, citing both Section 28 and the age of consent. Both these decisions were overturned following vigorous campaigning by lesbian, gay and bisexual student activists.
Solidarity action also saw off attacks on workers. Bradford teacher Austin Allen was sacked after giving honest answers to students’ questions — which included telling them that he was gay. He was reinstated when the NUT threatened to strike.
So what now?
Although Labour dropped the pledge from their General Election manifesto, the Government has promised to repeal Section 28. It is one of only a few things it has promised to lesbians, gay men and bisexuals.
Home Secretary Jack Straw has not yet said when the Section will be scrapped. The excuse for inaction so far — that there has been no Local Government Bill — prompts two questions. Firstly, why not introduce an Equality Bill, which could repeal Section 28 and do much more besides? And secondly, why has there been no Local Government Bill when there is so much Tory damage to local democracy to be undone?
We face the following scenario: the Labour Government eventually gets round to scrapping the Section; the age of consent is eventually equalised at 16 on a free vote (with some Labour MPs voting against); then the next General Election is nearly upon us, and it’s shoved back into the closet as a “vote loser.”
The danger is that a lesbian, gay and bisexual movement which has been through two decades of serial Tory attacks will accept Labour’s crumbs. Instead of such undemanding deference, we should act in the tradition of the anti—clause campaign: active, defiant, relying on our own activity, placing our own demands. We should also recognise the irreplaceable role of solidarity, in particular with the labour movement.
We need to pile on the pressure to scrap Section 28 straight away. But kicking out an old law should be accompanied by demanding new moves for equality. A new law should make it illegal for employers to discriminate on the grounds of sexuality; and introduce equal rights for same-sex partners in housing, immigration, pensions, and hospital and prison visiting. Fostering and adoption authorities should be made to consider potential parents on merit, with sexuality considered irrelevant; and the Child Support Agency should be told to stop hassling lesbian and gay parents. Local authorities should have both the duty and the resources to provide services for lesbian, gay and bisexual people. Trade unions should have the right to take effective action in defence of workers victimised by homophobes.
Today’s lesbian, gay and bisexual activists — and today’s socialists — should learn from the struggles of the past and keep up the fight until homophobia itself is part of history.
