We’ve heard the No campaign before. In South Africa

THE No campaign against same-sex marriage has echoes of the campaign against interracial marriage in South Africa, writes David Skapinker.

WHO would’ve thought three little words would bring about so much division and anger?

But here we are, one of the most progressive countries on the planet, warring with each over same-sex marriage.

Shortly, we’re going to be asked to vote on the right of two consenting adults to be recognised by the state and to have their relationship deemed equal to every other pair of consenting adults.

And this, a debate about a union, is what’s tearing governments apart and creating a genuine rift in the community.

I declare myself to be in the ‘yes’ camp.

I’m gay. I’m also extremely proud to be an Australian. I’m Jewish. I’m the son of immigrants who left segregated South Africa to live in a more equal country. I’m an employer. I’m many other things.

But right now, I’m outraged.

I’m outraged that the ‘no’ camp can argue that a young person who may be gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender doesn’t have the right to be taught that this is OK. I had a rough time at school. I was bullied, and I had suicidal thoughts. All I wanted was someone to tell me that being gay wasn’t the end of the world.

I’m outraged that the ‘no’ camp can scream blue murder if the ‘yes’ camp dares to point out why the many, many views being expressed may be wrong, hurtful or offensive.

If you changed the debate from ‘between two men or two women’ to ‘between a Jew and a Christian’ or ‘between a white woman and a black man’, the language used might sometimes stray from always being polite.

I cast my mind back to South Africa only 20 years ago when whites, blacks, Asians, Indians and any other ethnic group else couldn’t mix, let alone marry. A key argument for this segregation centred on what would happen to the children.

Ironically, South Africa legalised same sex marriage years ago.

I’m outraged, but I’m also hopeful. (Pic: Samantha Manchee/AAP)

I’m outraged because some petty politicians, one in particular, have made this their cause célèbre, for their own political purposes and gain.

I have no doubt Tony Abbott is genuine in his belief about marriage. I also have no doubt, based on his track record, he would break every principle he has if it meant a political advantage. So excuse me if I’m outraged that we’re about to spend $122 million on an unnecessary exercise, shortly after a so-called budget emergency.

I’m outraged that this debate is becoming a proxy-debate on political correctness, freedom of speech and freedom of religion.

Political correctness, for its own sake, is wrong. Freedom of religion is good — though apparently only if you have certain beliefs. And freedom of speech, as someone who works in media, is a concept I value higher than almost anything else.

But this debate is about none of those things.

Provisions to protect freedom of religion are in the proposed bill. Me marrying the man I love doesn’t change your marriage, stop you worshipping your God or prevent you from saying anything.

This debate is purely to wedge Malcolm Turnbull, weaken his leadership, and exact revenge. Let’s call a spade a spade.

I’m outraged that we are about to fork out a big chunk of taxpayer money for a non-scientific, non-binding (unless the answer is no) survey that weakens the fabric of one our society’s greatest assets: our representative democracy.

I’ve regularly spoken to my parents about what it’s like to live in a country under an authoritarian regime. I’ve also spent countless hours listening to the horrors that occurred in crumbling democracies in Europe from the perspectives of friends’ grandparents.

Our representative democracy is one of the greatest institutions in the world and we should protect it at all costs. By saying our leaders don’t have the right to vote on contentious issues creates a dangerous precedent.

I don’t worry about the 45th Parliament. I don’t worry about the 46th, 47th or 48th parliaments either. But with the rise of populism I do worry about the protection about my rights, and your rights, in all parliaments down the road.

So yes, I’m outraged. But I am also hopeful.

My mum, who I used to think of as pretty conservative, said to me the other night that I have to “make sure not to let the next few months get to you”.

“When I was growing up in South Africa gays were at the absolute fringe of society,” she told me.

“You would have had no life at all if you were born there. You would have been an outcast. This argument we’re having makes me so happy, because two men or two women wanting to love each other forever, and being able to do that publicly, would’ve been inconceivable. It will happen. Look how far we’ve come.”

David Skapinker is a media executive from Sydney.

Originally published as We’ve heard the No campaign before. In South Africa