Strategizing for the Future through the Civil Partnership Act

AuthorLisa Glennon
Published date01 June 2006
Date01 June 2006
DOIhttp://doi.org/10.1111/j.1467-6478.2006.00357.x
JOURNAL OF LAW AND SOCIETY
VOLUME 33, NUMBER 2, JUNE 2006
ISSN: 0263-323X, pp. 244±76
Strategizing for the Future through the
Civil Partnership Act
Lisa Glennon*
Using Fraser's `status model of recognition' as the conceptual lens
through which to view the `misrecognition' of gay and lesbian
relationships, this paper assesses the value of the Civil Partnership Act
in light of family law policy and gay and lesbian politics. The second
section considers the context of Northern Ireland where the issue is
complicated by prevailing moral conservatism and the historical
reductionism in the politics of identity.
INTRODUCTION
2004 saw the passage of the Civil Partnership Act.
1
After years of formal
policy silence where the courts took the lead in the recognition of same-sex
relationships,
2
this Act introduces a United Kingdom-wide registered
partnership scheme.
3
There are two main points to note about the legislation.
First, it is designed to remedy the fact that gay and lesbian couples had no
opportunity to formalize their relationship in law.
4
As such, registration is
244
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School. Published by Blackwell Publishing Ltd,
9600 Garsington Road, Oxford OX4 2DQ, UK and 350 Main Street, Malden, MA 02148, USA
*School of Law, Queen's University Belfast, 28 University Square, Belfast
BT7 1NN, Northern Ireland
l.glennon@qub.ac.uk
I would like to thank Professor Anne Barlow and the anonymous referees for their very
helpful comments on an earlier draft. Any errors or omissions remain the responsibility of
the author.
1 Hereafter the Act. The Bill received Royal Assent on 18 November 2004 and the
Act came into force on 5 December 2005.
2Fitzpatrick v. Sterling Housing Association [2000] 2 FLR 27, and Ghaidan v.
Godin-Mendoza [2004] UKHL 30.
3
By 31 January 2006, 3,648 civil partnerships had been registered in England and Wales:
General Register Office Press Release, 22 February 2006, at
gro/content/news/Civil_partnership_numbers.asp>. By the time of writing official
statistics for registrations in Northern Ireland had not yet been published.
4 See N. Barker, `For Better or Worse? The Civil Partnerships Bill [HL] 2004' (2004)
26 J. of Social Welfare and Family Law 313±24, at 315.
limited to same-sex couples. While recognizing the problems faced by
unmarried opposite-sex couples
5
whose incoherent legal status has led to
many calls for reform,
6
the government stressed that this was conceptually
distinct from the position of same-sex couples who wanted to formalize their
relationship but were unable to do so. As a further justification for their
narrow remit, it was submitted that registration will lead to greater social
acceptance of same-sex relationships and thus, ultimately, cultural change.
7
Thus, the second defining aspect of the Act is the assimilationist position it
adopts, a highly contested strategy within gay and lesbian politics. Once
registered, couples are given a set of rights and duties which are modelled on
marriage.
8
The purpose of this article is to consider the strategy of the Act,
first, in light of family law policy and, secondly, within the framework of
gay and lesbian politics paying particular attention to the specificity of the
socio-cultural landscape in Northern Ireland which is included within the
United Kingdom-wide registration scheme.
9
LOCATING THE CIVIL PARTNERSHIPS ACT WITHIN FAMILY LAW
POLICY
British family law has been described as devoid of specific policy direction
although it is said to be premised on certain assumptions, which may not be
either accurate or up-to-date, about how families operate.
10
The deployment
of `constraining assumptions'
11
can be seen in varying shades throughout
family law policy. Indeed, as family policy in Britain has sought to wrestle
with social developments which have impacted upon family formation and
operation,
12
the response has not developed from a value-neutral position.
245
5 DTI, Women and Equality Unit, Civil Partnership: A Framework for the Legal
Recognition of Same-sex Couples (2003) para. 2.6.
6 See, for example, R. Bailey-Harris, `Law and the Unmarried Couple ± Oppression
or Liberation?' (1996) 8(2) Child and Family Law Q. 137±47; J. Mee, The Property
Rights of Cohabitees (1999); The Law Society, Cohabitation: The Case for Clear
Law (2002).
7 See DTI, op. cit., n. 5, para. 1.5.
8 These include a duty to provide reasonable maintenance for civil partners and
children of the family; assessment in the same way as spouses for child support;
joint treatment for income-related benefits and state pensions; recognition for
immigration purposes; arrangements for property division on dissolution of the
partnership; right to register the death of a partner; treatment in the same way as
spouses for all tax purposes, and inheritance, intestacy, and compensation rights.
9 Northern Ireland Office of Law Reform, Civil Partnership: A Legal Status for
Committed Same-Sex Couples in Northern Ireland (2003).
10 L. Fox-Harding, Family, State and Social Policy (1996) 187, 191±5.
11 id.
12 The number of marriages in the United Kingdom has fallen from around 480,300 in
1972 to just over 286,000 in 2001 (Social Trends No. 36 (2006) Figure 2.9). While
there has been a slight increase in the number of marriages in recent years (in 2003
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
Assumptions about `family values' and `social stability', and the connection
between the two, underpin policy development and, as such, the contem-
porary response is marked by contradictions, with policy-makers tacitly
embracing diverse functional families whilst attempting to maintain the
centrality of marriage.
13
Rhetorical commitments to traditional family values,
expressed in more positive New Labour terminology of `strengthening
marriage'
14
continue to pervade political dialogue and the absence of a
comprehensive debate on the interface between marriage, cohabitation, and
other forms of domestic living arrangements, has become particularly acute.
15
It is against this background that the Civil Partnership Act has been passed.
It has been pointed out that providing a registration scheme for same-sex
couples fails to address the lack of coherent policy driving the legal treat-
ment of unmarried cohabitants.
16
Unlike the position in other jurisdictions,
such as Canada and Australia, where comprehensive presumptive-based
laws govern unmarried relationships, the government in this jurisdiction has
never quite worked out what to do with these couples. Indeed, the
consultation paper which preceded the Act was very wary of blurring the
analytical separation between those who formalize their relationships and
those who do not. Recognizing that some unmarried cohabitants mistakenly
believe that they have rights and responsibilities under common law (the
common-law marriage myth), the initial governmental answer to debunking
this myth was to educate cohabitants regarding their lack of rights and
responsibilities as opposed to engagement in dialogue about whether and
how to bolster their legal status.
17
This approach is based on `constraining
246
there were 308,600 marriages) it is too early to predict whether this trend will
continue (id., p. 25). The percentage of unmarried women under the age of 60
cohabiting in Great Britain rose from 13 per cent in 1986 to 25 per cent in 2004. A
similar pattern can be seen in relation to men (id., p. 27). Further, there has been a
rise in the proportion of births occurring outside marriage in the United Kingdom
from 12 per cent of all births in 1980 to 42 per cent in 2004 (id., Table 2.19).
13 See Home Office, Supporting Families: A Consultation Document (1998) paras.
4.7±4.8.
14 id. See, also, C. Stychin, Governing Sexuality: The Changing Politics of Citizenship
and Law Reform (2003) ch. 2.
15 A. Barlow, `Regulation of Cohabitation, Changing Family Policies and Social
Attitudes: A Discussion of Britain Within Europe' (2004) 26 Law & Policy 57, at
60. See, also, A. Barlow and G. James, `Regulating Marriage and Cohabitation in
21st Century Britain' (2004) 67 Modern Law Rev. 143±76.
16 See The Law Society, Response to the Civil Partnerships Consultation Paper
(2003), at ociety.org.uk/influencinglaw/policyinresponse/
view=article.law?DOCUMENTID=160163>.
17 The Department of Constitutional Affairs (DCA) is leading a cross-government
working group to consider how `to dispel the myths around common-law marriage':
DTI, Women and Equality Unit, Responses to Civil Partnership: A Framework for
the Legal Recognition of Same-sex Couples (2003) paras. 3.5±3.6. The DCA has
funded two voluntary sector partners (Advice Services Alliance and One Plus One)
to manage the `Living Together' campaign, launched in July 2004, to make
cohabitants more aware of their legal status.
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
assumptions'
18
concerning the choice of family form. Spouses choose
marriage with its attendant legal consequences, while contrariwise,
unmarried couples, by not marrying, choose to avoid legal regulation. These
deeply essentialist positions are not based on sound evidence; indeed, they
are contradicted by recent empirical research which reveals the prevalence of
the `common-law marriage myth'.
19
While the libertarian smokescreen of
the desire to respect `individual autonomy' can be invoked as the rationale
for keeping marriage and cohabitation ideologically distinct, it is also the
case that non-intervention in cohabiting relationships approximates with the
family values rhetoric which seeks to prioritize and strengthen marriage as
the most stable family unit in society. However, while the ideological
preference for marriage is retained, the practical legal distinctions between
marriage and cohabitation have become somewhat `blurred' as unmarried
cohabitants are recognized in certain legislative contexts such as provisions
relating to succession of tenancies, domestic violence, and inheritance.
These developments have taken place incrementally and there has never
been any clear or coherent policy driving family recognition in differing
contexts. The Civil Partnership Act adds to this by creating a new legal
partnership status. Falling into line with existing policy regarding the use of
relationship form as the standard proxy for legal regulation in family law, it
broadens the range of persons subject to undisturbed quasi-marital
regulation, thus bringing more `couples' within the preferred regulatory
net. One should not be surprised at this choice of strategy. As Barlow says:
[i]n terms of legislative initiatives in England and Wales, it is the ending of
direct discrimination against same-sex cohabitants using a form approach
which fits more easily with New Labour's communitarian marriage-promotion
agenda.
20
Indeed, there was a sense of urgency surrounding the question of same-sex
partnership rights, an issue which came into sharp focus in light of the
increasing European and international trend to give same-sex partners the
opportunity to formalize their relationships by marriage
21
or, more
commonly, a parallel form of civil registration,
22
and at a domestic level,
247
18 Fox-Harding, op. cit., n. 10.
19 A. Barlow et al., `Just a Piece of Paper? Marriage and Cohabitation in Britain' in
British Social Attitudes: The 18th Report ± Public Policy and Social Ties, eds. A.
Park et al. (2001). 56 per cent of those surveyed believed that cohabitation over time
gave rise to common-law marriage, carrying the same legal consequences as
marriage. See, also, A. Barlow et al., Cohabitation, Marriage and the Law (2005).
20 Barlow, op. cit., n. 15, p. 75.
21 For example, legislation in the Netherlands and Belgium has extended marriage to
same-sex couples.
22 Registered partnership legislation was first introduced in Denmark in 1989 and was
followed by Norway (1993), Sweden (1995), Iceland (1996), the Netherlands
(1998), France (1999), Belgium (2000), Germany (2000), Switzerland (2001), and
Finland (2002).
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
following recent decisions which exposed the differential legal treatment
between unmarried opposite-sex and same-sex couples.
23
These analogy-
based claims highlighted the need for reform and helped to shape the
assimilationist policy response. The second part of this article will consider
whether the benefits of state recognition justify this approach. Keeping the
debate within family law policy, however, the next section will consider
whether any features of the Act could create the conditions for a more
thoughtful debate on the use of relational concepts in defining the legal
obligations between family members.
SETTING THE SCENE FOR A NEW DIALOGUE IN FAMILY LAW
Family policy needs to develop much more carefully selected methods of
classifying legally relevant relationships. Brubaker, in his work on identity
politics, talks of the need to move away from conceiving groups as bounded
entities to speaking of categories which are `at best a potential basis for
group-formation or ``groupness''.'
24
This involves:
taking as a basic analytical category not the `group' as an entity but groupness
as a contextually fluctuating conceptual variable.
25
Pierik also talks about moving from `groups to categories, and from cate-
gories to processes of categorization'.
26
This is a useful conceptual
framework to borrow for family law policy because it encourages a shift
from placing individuals within all-purpose groups bounded together through
ascribed attributes (such as sexual orientation) to variable categories of
identification. Focusing more directly on the process of categorization
redirects attention to the purpose of family law regulation and encourages a
bottom-up approach with legally significant relationships being constructed
in a purposive manner. Functional characteristics could take precedence over
relationship form and a range of relational definitions could emerge.
However, moving from form to function will not take place instantaneously
and thus the task is to create the necessary conditions for this development.
The availability of partnership registration for same-sex couples is helpful in
working towards this as it achieves two things.
First, it helps to divest sexual orientation, which is not a reliable unit of
relationship categorization, of meaning in family law policy. Secondly, it
allows the diversity of relationships within this previously excluded `group' to
emerge. In other words, it allows a levelling out of relationships from which a
248
23 See op. cit., n. 2.
24 R. Brubaker, Ethnicity without Groups (2004) 12.
25 id., p. 11.
26 R. Pierik, `Conceptualizing cultural groups and cultural difference: The social
mechanism approach' (2004) 4 Ethnicities 523, at 525.
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more streamlined debate on family obligations can take place. On one view we
should be concerned that registration will make more acute the `power
imbalances'
27
between formal and unformalized relationships. However, as
opposed to viewing this in negative terms, it is possible to see the benefits of
sharpening the analytical separation between these relationship-types. The
legal inability of same-sex couples to formalize their relationship complicates
the politics of relationship consequences. By fusing same-sex and unmarried
opposite-sex partners within the category of unformalized relationships, it
becomes difficult to map the desired legal response as one is dealing, in
abstract terms, with those who cannot and those who choose not to formalize
their relationship. Indeed, the consultation paper on civil partnerships con-
cluded that it was impossible to design a single framework to meet the needs
of both same-sex couples who wanted to formalize their relationships and
opposite-sex couples who did not want to marry. However, giving same-sex
couples the ability to formalize their relationship in law allows one to
generalize about unformalized relationships and, in a less complicated way, to
balance questions of individual autonomy with the need for protection from,
among other things, the economic fall-out of relationship breakdown
unfettered by arguments that within this legal category are those who do not
have the option of relationship formalization. It is important, however, that
this argument is not taken to affirm the legitimacy of essentializing about the
choice of relationship form. Indeed, as noted earlier, recent evidence has
exposed the misguided assumption that unmarried cohabitants consciously opt
out of formal relationship regulation. However, sharpening the abstract
division between those who formalize their relationship and those who do not
allows a more clear-cut debate about relationship consequences to take place
where the question of whether couples do not formalize relationships to avoid
legal regulation can be addressed unfettered by the complicated inclusion of
those who do not have the option of doing so.
Further, while it could be said that the exclusion of opposite-sex couples
from the Act is a missed opportunity to address the problems of cohabitation
law, this may actually help to off-set the potential stagnation of family law
policy caused by the affirmative nature of the legislation. The provision of
greater rights for unmarried couples is still not formal government policy,
but only a few months after the Act was passed and during the run-up to the
2005 General Election, the Lord Chancellor asked the Law Commission to
consider the law relating to cohabiting couples.
28
That the Commission has
249
27 P. Ettlebrick, `Since When Is Marriage a Path to Liberation' in Lesbian and Gay
Marriage: Private Commitments, Public Ceremonies, ed. S. Sherman (1992) 21.
28 Law Commission for England and Wales, Ninth Programme of Law Reform (2005)
paras. 3.3±3.8. This project, which commenced in July 2005, will last for two years.
The Commission's previous attempts to look at the property rights of homesharers,
after almost a decade's deliberation, did not produce any recommendations (Law
Commission for England and Wales, Sharing Homes: A Discussion Paper (2002)).
The current project has a narrower remit, looking at couples in marital-like
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
been tasked with this project suggests at least some recognition of the over-
due need to reconsider the law in this area. By contrast, one could speculate
that the inclusion of opposite-sex couples within the Act may have been
presented as the definitive legal response to the question of adult relationship
regulation. While registration would only have been a partial solution,
merely shifting the parameter of unregulated cohabitants from unmarried to
unmarried and unregistered, it could have been used to deny the need for
future reform. The question of how to treat unmarried and unregistered
couples may have lost significance as it could be said that those who wish to
formalize their relationship have the option(s) of marriage and registration.
Thus, opening up registration to all couples could have permanently
entrenched the use of relationship form in legal policy, perpetuated the
exclusion of those who do not formalize their relationship, and hindered the
development of a more beneficial long-term anti-essentialist strategy which
demotes the significance of relationship status in favour of a functionalist
approach which asks more critical questions about the legal obligations of
family members. It is submitted, therefore, that the introduction of civil
partnerships may help to create the conditions for a more disruptive debate
on family obligations.
29
The question is, however, whether the assimila-
tionist policy of the Act can be rationalized in a similarly positive manner.
THE ASSIMILATIONIST/ANTI-ASSIMILATIONIST DEBATE
The assimilation/anti-assimilation debate, most vocal in North America, is
usually constructed around the same-sex marriage question.
30
It represents
250
relationships only, but a broader scope, focusing on the financial hardship suffered
by cohabitants or their children on the termination of their relationship either by
separation or death (para. 3.6).
29 Further, as Lahey observes, the inclusion of same-sex couples within a quasi-
spousal legal category may carry economic disadvantages for some. Gays and
lesbians will lose their categorization as individual legal subjects and will instead
inherit `some of the larger responsibilities associated with relationship recognition'
(K. Lahey, Are We Persons Yet?: Law and Sexuality in Canada (1999) 243±53).
Thus, the incidents of relationship recognition may not be positive for all as they
will work in a complex and contingent way across class, gender, cultural, and
wealth-based variants thus keeping alive the need for a debate on the use of
relational concepts in the assessment of need and the provision of societal resources
(see, also, Barker, op. cit., n. 4, p. 319).
30 It is not the purpose of this article to lament the government's option of civil
registration as opposed to marriage. Indeed, as LaVio lette notes, registered
partnerships can be an `acceptable compromise when viewed as a political strategy'
(N. LaViolette, `Waiting in a New Line at City Hall: Registered Partnerships as an
Option for Relationship Recognition Reform in Canada' (2002) 19 Can. J. of Family
Law 115, at 142) and can act as a precursor to the legitimation of same-sex marriage.
(See, also, K. Waaldijk, `Civil Developments: Patterns of Reform in the Legal
Position of Same-Sex Partners in Europe' (2000) 17 Can. J. of Family Law 62.)
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
the division between activists around the utility of rights-based strategies in
gay and lesbian politics. The dialogue of Stoddard and Ettlebrick synthesizes
the core of the debate. Stoddard, in favour of seeking the right to marry, cites
three reasons which he classifies as practical, political, and philosophical.
31
On a practical level, the status of marriage carries economic and practical
benefits which are currently withheld from same-sex couples. From a
political perspective, it is the issue which `most fully tests the dedication of
people who are not gay to full equality for gay people'.
32
Indeed, given the
current status of marriage in society, denying access to gays and lesbians
carries the `implicit message' that:
two men or two women are incapable of achieving such an exalted domestic
state. Gay relationships are somewhat less significant, less valuable.
33
In response to those who criticize the institution of marriage, Stoddard
directs his philosophical explanation by making the distinction between `the
desirability of marriage' and `the desirability of the right to marry'.
34
Further, he speculates that same-sex marriage will have transformative
potential in ridding the institution of traditional gender roles and divesting it
`of the sexist trappings of the past'.
35
By contrast, Ettlebrick voices the concerns of the anti-assimilationist
lobby. First, she argues that it is misplaced optimism to think that same-sex
marriage is a liberating concept. Not only will it constrain and render
invisible same-sex relationships, but it will also force the assimilation of
gays and lesbians into the mainstream thus undermining the goals of gay
liberation.
36
Secondly, Ettlebrick submits that this will affirm the status of
marriage as the proxy for the conferment of rights and responsibilities, thus
furthering the gap between the privileged position of those who formalize
their relationship and those who do not. In addition, by playing on the
`sameness' of gay and lesbian relationships, she predicts that activists will
have compromised their opportunity to be placed:
...inaposition of power that would allow us to transform marriage from an
institution that emphasizes property and state regulation of relationships to an
institution that recognizes one of many types of valid and respected
relationships.
37
251
31 T. Stoddard, `Why Gay People Should Seek the Right to Marry' in Lesbian and Gay
Marriage: Private Commitments, Public Ceremonies, ed. S. Sherman (1992) 14.
32 id., p. 17.
33 id., p. 18. See, also, H. Dalton, `Reflections on the Lesbian and Gay Marriage
Debate' 1 [1991] Law & Sexuality 1±8.
34 Stoddard, id., p. 18.
35 id., p. 19.
36 Ettlebrick, op. cit., n. 27, p. 21.
37 id., p. 23.
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Thus, the politics of recognition can be both assimilationist and anti-
assimilationist in nature as claimants can seek to emphasize, relative to
heteronormative assumptions about relationships, the sameness or difference
of gay and lesbian relationships. This can also be expressed as the distinction
between traditional identity politics and queer politics. Traditional identity
politics seeks to `revalue unjustly devalued identities',
38
such as gay and
lesbian sexuality, through affirmation of the demeaned characteristics of the
group. This requires the presentation of group cohesion and collective
identity which puts pressure on members to conform,
39
resulting in a:
drastically simplified group-identity which denies the complexity of people's
lives, the multiplicity of their identifications and the cross-pulls of their
various affiliations.
40
By contrast, queer politics appears much more appealing for its opposition to
defined group boundaries and assumed collective identities. Contesting the
fixed nature of sexuality and the `binary opposition between homosexuality
and heterosexuality',
41
queer theory sees:
the binary of heterosexual-homosexual . . . as a regulatory fiction, with the
consequence that normative assumptions underpinning the `naturalness' of
heterosexuality are themselves merely fictions.
42
One of the main differences between these strategies is the extent to which
they propose to address underlying structural issues or assumptions.
43
Fraser
speaks of the distinction between `affirmative' remedies which `aim to
correct inequitable outcomes of social arrangements without disturbing the
underlying social structures that generate them', and transformative
strategies which, by contrast, `aim to correct unjust outcomes precisely by
restructuring the underlying generative framework'.
44
While identity politics
fall within Fraser's notion of `affirmative remedies'
45
which, in addressing
claims of misrecognition, tend to reify `collective identities',
46
by contrast,
the politics of queer theory fall within the concept of transformative
strategies
47
which `are in principle dereifying'.
48
252
38 N. Fraser, `Social Justice in the Age of Identity Politics: Redistribution, Recogni-
tion, and Participation' in Redistribution or Recognition? A Political-Philosophical
Exchange, eds. N. Fraser and A. Honneth (2003) 12.
39 N. Fraser, `Rethinking Recognition' (2000) 3 New Left Rev. 107, at 112.
40 id.
41 Fraser, op. cit., n. 38, p. 75.
42 R. Kitchin and K. Lysaght, `Heterosexism and the geographies of everyday life in
Belfast, Northern Ireland' (2003) 35 Environment and Planning 489, at 490±1.
43 See Lahey, op. cit., n. 29, p. 262.
44 Fraser, op. cit., n. 38, p. 74.
45 id., p. 75.
46 id., p. 76.
47 id., p. 75.
48 id., p. 77.
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The question is, what do we make of the Civil Partnership Act when
placed within this debate? Anti-assimilationist concerns can, clearly, be
directed against the Act because although the government is at pains to
stress that it is not marriage, the regulation which flows from registration is
based on marriage and thus contains inherent assumptions about the
exclusivity of sexual relationships and the mutual acceptance of legally
enforceable duties of care and support. Indeed, Barker says that the entry
requirements and legal consequences of civil registration reinforce `com-
pulsory heterosexuality' defined as `the ideology of a sexual, monogamous,
life-long relationship between two people'.
49
She notes its assimilating
effects in `civilizing' gays and lesbians by compelling same-sex couples to
structure their relationships within a marriage-like framework and excluding
relationships which do not fit within this model.
50
This carries the danger of
pushing `other' non-marital like relationships further from the reform
agenda
51
where, as noted by Barker, `outsiders' become `marginalised by
the ``new insiders''.'
52
Certainly if we were to judge the Act within the
confines of the debate as outlined, it would be hard not to reach such a
conclusion. However, does gay and lesbian emancipation have to be located
within the absolutes of assimilation or anti-assimilation positions? Indeed, it
is problematic to represent these positions as polar opposites and it is
possible to find those who have tried to steer a more neutral course in the
assessment of strategies.
53
In this respect, it is interesting to consider the
work of Fraser who makes `the case that a politics of recognition need not
lead to cultural essentialism'
54
by presenting a non-identitarian politics of
recognition which is centred on the eradication of social status
subordination.
FRASER'S NON-IDENTITARIAN POLITICS OF RECOGNITION
Fraser asserts the need for cultural or symbolic change to remedy the
misrecognition, through institutionalized `heteronormative value patterns',
of gays and lesbians as a `despised sexuality'.
55
The remedy must thus derive
from the politics of recognition, challenging the `status order' and not, as
redistribution theorists would argue, the `economic structure of capitalist
253
49 Barker, op. cit., n. 4, p. 319.
50 id., pp. 320±1.
51 id.
52 id.
53 See N. Hunter, `Marriage, Law, and Gender: A Feminist Inquiry' 1 [1991] Law &
Sexuality 9±30.
54 S. Benhabib, The Claims of Culture: Equality and Diversity in the Global Era
(2002) 68.
55 Fraser, op. cit., n. 38, p. 18.
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
society'.
56
However, Fraser distances her version of recognition from
traditional identity politics noting that equating the two `. . . reduces . . . a
plurality of different kinds of recognition claims to a single type, namely,
claims for the affirmation of group specificity.'
57
Recognition theorists
such as Honneth
58
and Taylor
59
view the `social practices of recognition'
as `crucial to the formation or malformation of the self'.
60
Self-identity is
thus influenced by the regard of others and maligned groups are subject to
a damaged sense of value and worth. On this view there is a link between
`individual and collective damage' which leads to perceived synonymity
between `individual claims to authentic self-expression' and `collective
aspirations to cultural recognition'.
61
Benhabib, in critique, asks why an
`individual's search for authenticity [should] take the form of a search for
collective self-expression'.
62
Indeed, the merging of the individual and the
collective leads to concerns of essentialism. By contrast, Fraser develops a
non-identitarian politics of recognition where recognition is viewed not as
a question of `self-realization', but as a question of justice.
63
Under this
model, recognition becomes a question of social status where `institu-
tionalised patterns of cultural value' impact upon the status of social
actors and where the denial of full participatory rights causes `mis-
recognition and status subordination'.
64
While traditional identity politics
contend that members of maligned groups collectively assert an
internally-driven group culture,
65
viewing misrecognition as a question
of social status means that:
what requires recognition is not group-specific identity but the status of
individual group members as full partners in social interaction.
66
254
56 id., p. 24. While Fraser argues that sexuality struggles require a remedy which
challenges `misrecognition', that is not to say that gays and lesbians are not subject
to maldistribution nor to suggest that recognition claims will not have redistributive
consequences. Indeed, Fraser's model interprets the concept of justice as
incorporating aspects of recognition and redistribution claims. As Nic Craith notes:
[c]oncepts of recognition and justice are set in a larger social framework. Injustice
is not merely defined as misrecognition, but concerns itself with economic
structures, property regimes, and labour markets.
M. Nic Craith, Plural Identities ± Singular Narratives: The Case of Northern
Ireland (2002) at 199.
57 Fraser, op. cit., n. 38, p. 12. See, also, Benhabib, op. cit., n. 54, pp. 69±70.
58 A. Honneth, The Struggle for Recognition: The Moral Grammar of Social Conflicts
(1996). See Benhabib, id., p. 51.
59 C. Taylor, Multiculturalism and the Politics of Recognition (1992); Benhabib, id.
60 Benhabib, id., p. 51.
61 id., p. 52.
62 id.
63 Fraser, op. cit., n. 38, pp. 28±9.
64 id., p. 29.
65 Fraser, op. cit., n. 39, p. 112.
66 id., p. 113.
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Individualizing the effects of group-based misrecognition in this way ensures
that the remedy does not have to involve group reification. The focus is on
achieving `participatory parity' which involves rolling out the opportunities
for full social interaction on equal terms but does not require and/or assume
that all group members interact in the same way.
Fraser's model of non-identitarian recognition is a useful conceptual
template from which to view gay and lesbian disempowerment. Indeed,
Fraser reflects on heterosexual-only marriage laws which entrench the
`heterosexual cultural norm' and deny parity of participation to gays and
lesbians. When considering how to change this, Fraser works within the
traditional binarism of assimilation/anti-assimilation positions. The first
option is to legitimize same-sex marriage. The second involves de-institu-
tionalizing marriage, thus removing marital status as the proxy for the
conferment of benefits and substituting it with another indicator which,
according to Fraser, could be citizenship and/or residency. Both, according
to Fraser, work to achieve `participatory parity' for gays and lesbians while
avoiding the dangers of group reification. While Fraser's model may not
appear to provide any clear answers on strategy as the choice remains
reduced to an assimilationist or anti-assimilationist option, assessment is
contained within a theoretical framework which allows one to ignore the
theoretical baggage associated with both traditional identity politics and
queer politics and to concentrate on `what precisely the subordinated parties
need in order to be able to participate as peers in social life'.
67
This allows us
to take a more nuanced approach to strategizing. Assimilation with existing
norms, associated with rights-based claims, is usually positioned against the
deconstructionist aims of those who seek radical transformation of the social
order, the two being posited as mutually exclusive. By contrast, however, it
is possible to develop a middle-course strategy. Indeed, Fraser speaks of the:
possibility of a via media between an affirmative strategy that is politically
feasible but substantively flawed and a transformative one that is
programmatically sound but politically impracticable.
68
Viewed from Fraser's position of centralizing the social status of individual
members of the maligned community, it is submitted that the assimilationist
strategy of civil partnerships is worth pursuing as an achievable middle-
course agenda.
69
255
67 id., p. 115.
68 Fraser, op. cit., n. 38, p. 79. Emphasis in original.
69 Although Fraser rejects anything less than legalizing same-sex marriage, the
proposed civil partnership scheme does form part of the strategic course of
partnership assimilation and may be the only prospect of immediate development.
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THE BENEFITS OF THE ASSIMILATIONIST STRATEGY OF CIVIL
PARTNERSHIPS
There are several reasons why this strategy should be supported. First, while
transformative strategies are preferable to many, they are also more difficult
to achieve.
70
Lacey, for example, cites Unger who envisages a deconstruc-
tionist agenda of:
pulling down boundaries, questioning assumptions about how things have
been organised traditionally, and making possible a wide variety of different
kinds of social, personal and political arrangement.
71
Lacey concludes, however, that this:
suffers from a naively utopian character which arguably disqualifies it as a
serious argument against practical reforms which seek to intervene in the
actual legal world experienced by relatively powerless, disadvantaged
groups.
72
The same can be said of the use of `queer theory' as the theoretical
mechanism to achieve wholescale social transformation. The likely success
of strategies must be measured against the current social and political
climate and alongside the status of the claimants and their political rele-
vance. Thus, while theorists can make very appealing arguments about the
use of queer theory within a deconstructionist agenda, beyond hyperbole, it
is unclear that such activism can deliver. To claim otherwise overstates the
potential of gay and lesbian activists to challenge broad structural inequali-
ties and underestimates the significance of their historical disempowerment.
As such, one must be careful to avoid holding out for currently unattainable
goals at the expense of smaller reform initiatives which cumulatively have
potential to destabilize the norm.
73
Secondly, considering the historical disadvantage, prejudice, and stereo-
type suffered by gays and lesbians, the use of queer theory to address their
`misrecognition' carries certain dangers. One of the reasons why queer
theory is so appealing is because, by its very nature, it rejects the presenta-
tion of a unified group-based collective. As such, while the reifying
tendencies of assimilation are well rehearsed, the reifying implications of
queer theory are less frequently articulated. This is, however, an unbalanced
representation. Collective reification can also be a by-product of anti-
assimilationist agendas as they too involve claims which tend to synthesize
group traits as universal (the difference being that this is outside the confines
256
70 Fraser, op. cit., n. 38, p. 77.
71 N. Lacey, Unspeakable Subjects, Feminist Essays in Legal and Social Theory
(1998) 39.
72 id.
73 See C. Stychin, ANation by Rights: National Cultures, Sexual Identity Politics, and
the Discourse of Rights (1998) 17.
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of existing norms).
Take, for example, the reform agenda as envisaged by
Ettlebrick.
74
Seeking to emphasize relationship differences and to embark
upon a wide-ranging reform project, Ettlebrick notes that `[b]eing queer
means pushing the parameters of sex, sexuality, and family, and in the process
transforming the very fabric of society'.
75
In attempting to affirm group
identity through deconstruction of the norm, this agenda essentializes gay and
lesbian relationships as `alternative' and the goals of gay liberation as going
beyond the concerns of the primary subject. As this requires change which not
only departs from the dominant heteronormative culture but which
deconstructs it, the danger is that using gay and lesbian politics as the vehicle
to achieve this can work to perpetuate existing misrecognition by fuelling
homophobic perceptions of deviance. Furthermore, in taking such an absolute
approach, Ettlebrick overlooks the binarism in gay and lesbian activism which
recommends diverse strategic positions. Indeed, it is interesting to note that
her analysis was reprinted in a text which drew upon the personal narratives of
twenty-four gay and lesbian couples who were interviewed about their
relationships, some of whom had married and others who had chosen not to.
While some viewed marriage `. . . as an abhorrent ritual of patriarchy . . . others
[saw] it as a point of passage and an important celebration.'
76
Ettlebrick's representation of gay and lesbian relationships as universally
different `from the dominant culture' sits somewhat uneasily with the diver-
sity of experience illustrated in this work. In a similar vein, she essentializes
the experience of heterosexual relationships which in fact, as a comparative
reference point, is a moving target. While marriage continues to hold an
idealized position in social and legal ideology, its content is contested
through fluid patterns of spousal expectations and interdependencies and
increased reliance on `personal fulfilment' when making choices about the
continuation of relationships.
77
Indeed, Barker makes the point that:
it would be incorrect to assume that there is any more homogeneity in
heterosexual communities than there is in lesbian and gay communities, and
relationships between people of different-sexes are as capable of being `queer'
as those between people of the same-sex.
78
As I have observed elsewhere, why should concern for gays and lesbians
who do not conform to the paradigm of the conjugal family be any greater
than for heterosexuals whose relationships similarly do not conform to this
model?
79
257
74 See Ettlebrick, op. cit., n. 27.
75 id., p. 22.
76 S. Sherman (ed.), Lesbian and Gay Marriage: Private Commitments, Public
Ceremonies (1992) at back cover.
77 See J. Lewis, `Marriage and cohabitation and the nature of commitment' (1999) 11
Child and Family Law Q. 355, and Fox-Harding, op. cit., n. 10, pp. 101±5.
78 Barker, op. cit., n. 4, p. 319.
79 L. Glennon, `Targeting the Exclusionary Impact of Family Law' in Family Law and
Family Values, ed. M. Maclean (2005) 175.
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A third reason for supporting partnership assimilation is that it is a
preferable option to a possible alternative. A trend has emerged whereby
more `progressive' proposals are actually designed to mask the express
recognition of same-sex relationships for either political reasons to minimize
opposition to reform and/or due to prejudice against such relationships.
80
Thus, one must exercise caution when faced with proposals to create an
asexual legal category of domestic relationship at this stage in the evolution
of gay and lesbian rights as such proposals `can amount to little more than
homophobic responses to the demands for legal development'.
81
However, it would be wrong to present assimilation as nothing more than
a counter-response to such strategies as there are distinct benefits, par-
ticularly when the focus is Fraser's goal of achieving `participatory parity'.
Against the institutional prejudice against sexual minorities, partnership
assimilation can be viewed as a powerful exercise in affirmation. From this
perspective, the oft-citied negatives of assimilation can be seen as positives.
Assimilation means legitimizing on the basis of existing norms and, for
many, the affirmation of normative standards make it problematic. However,
from another perspective, it is precisely this feature which makes it worth-
while. By `normalizing' same-sex relationships, this strategy goes some way
towards countering the maligned social status of gays and lesbians, not just
in relational terms but also in an individual capacity.
82
Of course, this can be
criticized for over-relying on the legitimizing influence of the law. On an
alternative construction, however, one can look at the negative consequences
of continuing to withhold state-sanctioned partnership status rather than
making grand assumptions about the positive consequences of doing so.
Partnership legitimation will not, byitself,eradicate prejudice. But
continuing to withhold relationship status from gays and lesbians constitutes
an impermeable barrier to full social status. Indeed, the ability to identity
oneself without social stigma is thwarted by the presence of barriers to full
citizenship, the terms of which include choice in relationship form. Thus,
symbolically, the exclusion from legal partnership status is of greater
detriment than the potential benefits of inclusion. This construction of the
symbolism associated with the inclusion/exclusion question can be seen in
Canadian jurisprudence where several provincial courts have held that the
prohibition of same-sex marriage violates section 15 of the Canadian Charter
of Rights and Freedoms. In particular, it is borne out by the respective
interpretations provided by the claimants and the courts on the issue. While
258
80 See, for example, the amendment to the Civil Partnerships Bill, passed at Report
Stage in the House of Lords, which sought to extend the Bill to allow close relatives
to form a civil partnership. For a discussion of this see L. Glennon, `Displacing the
conjugal family in legal policy ± a progressive move?' (2005) 17 Child and Family
Law Q. 141.
81 id., p. 163.
82 For a discussion of the symbolic weight of the law, see N. Bamforth, Sexuality,
Morals and Justice: A Theory of Lesbian and Gay Rights Law (1997) 283±9.
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the claimants tended to focus on the positive symbolism associated with
same-sex marriage,
83
the courts focused, to a greater extent, on the damaging
impact of the current heterosexual definition of marriage. Indeed, the basis
of the provincial decisions is that the exclusion of same-sex couples from
legal marriage perpetuates the stereotypical characterisation of such rela-
tionships as `less worthy of recognition than opposite-sex relationships'.
84
This is not to underestimate the dangers associated with this strategy.
Indeed, Stychin points out that the price paid for sexual citizenship is the
reproduction of dominant heteronormativity where the struggles of sexual
dissidents become privatized, depoliticized, and desexualized.
85
Indeed,
there is always the danger that assimilationist strategies will be co-opted by
conservative forces to entrench current norms. However, rejecting such
strategies can also be used to the same damaging ends, particularly as
holding out for nothing less than radical transformation of the social order
can be paralysing. Against this, partnership assimilation can be seen as a true
middle-course strategy because it avoids the absolutism of deconstruction
whilst helping to complicate the `terrain',
86
the actors, and the substantive
claims of future struggles. Let us recall that Fraser's end-goal of `par-
ticipatory parity' requires the extension of participation rights and not the
actual participation of all. Partnership assimilation extends `participatory
parity' by ensuring that gays and lesbians can interact as full social actors,
but also allowing the individual expression of non-conformity. Thus, while
those operating within non-conformist frameworks do not have to be
absorbed within normative models, they may derive benefit from the
ongoing eradication of legal and social prejudice, thus gaining greater
currency in the `democratic public sphere'.
87
This has the potential to
weaken the norm. Indeed, the process of asserting rights carries potential in
itself. Stychin, for example, observes that in the South African context, the
lobbying of gay and lesbian activists to retain `sexual orientation' as a
prohibited ground of discrimination in the Constitution was important not
just for the success of the claims but for the `coalition building' generated by
the process of claiming rights.
88
According to Stychin, the `feeling of
inclusion within the polity' contributed to `a right to participate as openly
lesbian, gay or bisexual within the public sphere' which may be `one of the
most powerful offshoots to constitutional rights protection'.
89
Thus, the
value of rights-based discourse is not simply about the rights claimed but
259
83 In the words of one claimant in Halpern v. Attorney General of Canada, 2003 65
O.R. (3rd) 161 (C.A.) para. 9, `if we had the freedom to marry, society would grow
up to understand our commitment and love for each other'.
84 id., para. 107.
85 Stychin, op. cit., n. 14, pp. 35±6, 140.
86 Fraser, op. cit., n. 38, p. 79.
87 Benhabib, op. cit., n. 54, p. 70.
88 Stychin, op. cit., n. 73, p. 75.
89 id., pp. 76 and 77.
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must also be measured by its impact on the social and legal landscape and by
the potential of those whom it empowers/enfranchises.
Turning our attention to Northern Ireland, which is part of the United
Kingdom-wide registration scheme, it will be argued that there are additional
culturally-specific reasons for supporting the assimilationist strategy of civil
partnerships.
DEVELOPING CULTURALLY-SPECIFIC ANSWERS
The historic tension in Northern Ireland can be synthesized as a struggle over
national identity supremacy.
90
The conflict is represented as between
polarized cultural communities, Protestant/unionist and Catholic/nationalist,
a representation which institutionalizes the `two-traditions paradigm' and
essentializes community-based group boundaries.
91
The over-determination
of community belonging makes assumptive connections between religion,
political affiliation, and national identity preferences. As such, the very
essence of the reifying implications of the politics of identity can be seen. As
Nic Craith notes:
[i]dentity in Northern Ireland is often perceived in a two-dimensional
framework, as Orange or Green, unionist or nationalist, Protestant or Catholic
but that is false and limiting.
92
Such reductionism can be seen in the recent debates surrounding the
proposed Bill of Rights. In the political settlement, the newly established
Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission (NIHRC) was given the task of
consulting and advising the British government on a Bill of Rights for
Northern Ireland which reflects the particular circumstances of the region
and the principles of mutual respect for the identity and ethos of both com-
munities.
93
However, the drafting process has not been without contention,
especially surrounding the scope of the Bill in relation to the `particular
circumstances of Northern Ireland'. Does this mean that the Bill should be
260
90 For analysis of the Northern Ireland conflict see J. Whyte, Interpreting Northern
Ireland (1990); J. McGarry and B. O'Leary, Explaining Northern Ireland: Broken
Images (1995). The Good Friday/Belfast Agreement (Agreement Reached in the
Multi-Party Negotiations (1998; Cm. 3883)) forms the basis of the political
settlement in Northern Ireland and has been given legal effect by the Northern
Ireland Act 1998. The devolved administration took legislative and executive
authority on matters which had been transferred to their responsibility, Northern
Ireland Act 1998, ss. 4±15. In October 2002, however, devolution was suspended
and Parliament at Westminster reassumed responsibility and control of the Northern
Ireland Departments.
91 M. Nic Craith, Culture and Identity Politics in Northern Ireland (2003) 189.
92 id., p. 5.
93 Section 69(7) of the Northern Ireland Act 1998 and paragraph 4 of the Human
Rights section of the Good Friday/Belfast Agreement.
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confined to the political conflict and the rights of the `two communities', in
other words, expressed exclusively in religious and political terms? Cer-
tainly, as noted by the Committee on the Administration of Justice (CAJ),
some believe that the scope should be limited to rights in terms of unionists/
nationalists or Catholics/Protestants
94
and by seeking to include non-conflict
related issues in the Bill, it is alleged that the NIHRC has acted outside its
authority under the Northern Ireland Act. By contrast, in advocating the
development of a set of rights beyond the `lowest common denominator
approach', the CAJ believe that:
[a]ny narrow conception of human rights that sees rights as part of a trade-off
between communities is divisive and misses a unique opportunity to develop a
vision of shared values.
95
This debate highlights two important points. First, it shows the limitations of
reducing Northern Ireland to two communities based on religious divides
and perceived political affiliations.
96
Secondly, it is reflective of the inherent
conservatism of Northern Irish society and the suppression of a range of
`progressive' issues.
1. The socio-cultural landscape
Nagel, in pointing out that `all nationalism tends to be conservative and
`conservative' often means ``patriarchal'','
97
suggests that this is due to the
tendency of nationalists to be `retraditionalisers',
98
that is, using tradition as a:
legitimising basis for nation-building and cultural renewal. These traditions,
real or invented, are often patriarchal and point out the tenacious and
entrenched nature of masculine privilege and the tight connection between
masculinity and nationalism.
99
261
94 CAJ preliminary comments on `Making a Bill of Rights for Northern Ireland' ± a
consultation by the NI Human Rights Commission, September 2001, at
www.caj.org.uk/keydocuments.html>.
95 id. Smith notes that those favouring an expansive view of the Bill of Rights project
include NGOs, community groups, trade unions, political parties such as the
Northern Ireland Women's Coalition, Social Democratic and Labour Party, Sinn
FeÂin, and the Alliance Party. By contrast, those who prefer a narrower approach
tend `to be associated to unionist politics and culture including the Democratic
Unionist Party, the Ulster Unionist Party, the Cadogan Group, faith groups and
churches' (A. Smith, `The drafting process of a Bill of Rights for Northern Ireland'
[2004] Public Law 529).
96 See S. Livingstone, `The Need for a Bill of Rights in Northern Ireland' (2001) 52
Northern Ireland Legal Q. 269, at 279.
97 J. Nagel, `Masculinity and nationalism: gender and sexuality in the making of
nations' (1998) 21 Ethnic and Racial Studies 242, at 254. See, also, A. McClintock,
Imperial Leather: Race, Gender and Sexuality in the Colonial Context (1995).
98 J. Nagel, American Indian Ethnic Renewal: Red Power and the Resurgence of
Identity and Culture (1996) 193.
99 Nagel, op. cit., n. 97, p. 254.
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This cuts across the sectarian divide in Northern Ireland.
100
The nationalistic
desire of `opposing nationalisms'
101
to `conserve an idea of the nation'
102
has resulted in the suppression of any differences which contradict the
`imagined community'.
103
Walshe notes that in the Irish context, colonialism
and the rise of nationalism worked to silence sexual difference:
104
in Irish cultural discourse, silencing sexual difference became an imperative
for consolidating a post-colonial identity because of a supposed link between
homosexuality and enfeebled, `feminised' masculinity . . . therefore the post-
colonial culture cannot permit any public, ideological acknowledgement of the
actuality of the sexually `other' . . . For a nation `coming of age', the lesbian
and gay sensibility must be edited out.
105
According to Kitchin and Lysaght, the `still ``colonised''' Northern Ireland
did not escape these influences as colonialism and nationalism have worked
to create a patriarchal culture with the heterosexual family at the helm.
Further, religious discourse across the communal divide has sought to
`discipline sexual behaviour'
106
and given that such discourse is integral to
`communal identity' in Northern Ireland,
107
these ```national'' gender
norms'
108
are reproduced in `on-going nationalist and unionist ideology'.
109
It follows that there tends to be cross-community agreement on issues of
sexual morality. Take, for example, the law on abortion. The 1967 Abortion
Act which allows terminations in certain circumstances on the authorization
of two medical doctors, has never been extended to the region. Rather the
law, which is regulated by the Offences Against the Person Act 1861
110
and
262
100 As McGarry and O'Leary point out, unionism is a form of British nationalism (R.
Ward, ```It's not just Tea and Buns'': Women and Pro-Union Politics in Northern
Ireland' (2004) 6 Brit. J. of Politics and International Relations 494, at 502).
Seeking to defend the nation state and preserve the status quo, it is hostile to change
and thus envisages a patriarchal society with a `gendered understanding of
appropriate roles' (id., p. 504. See, also, pp. 502±3; C. Coulter, `Feminism and
nationalism in Ireland' in Rethinking Northern Ireland ± Culture, Ideology and
Colonialism, ed. D. Miller (1998) 164).
101 C. Bell, C. Campbell, and F. Ni AolaÂin, `Justice Discourses in Transition' (2004) 13
Social and Legal Studies 305, at 322.
102 Ward, op. cit., n. 100, p. 503.
103 B. Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of
Nationalism (1983). See S. Edge, `Representing gender and national identity' in
Miller, op. cit., n. 100, pp. 214±15.
104 E. Walshe, `Sexing the shamrock' (1996) 8 Crit. Survey 159, at 161. See R. Kitchin
and K. Lysaght, `Sexual Citizenship in Belfast, Northern Ireland' (2004) 11 Gender,
Place and Culture 83, at 90.
105 Kitchin and Lysaght, id.
106 id., p. 99.
107 Coulter, op. cit., n. 100, p. 174.
108 L. Smyth, `The cultural politics of sexuality and reproduction in Northern Ireland'
(2006) Sociology (forthcoming), quoted with the kind permission of the author.
109 Kitchin and Lysaght, op. cit., n. 104, pp. 85±6.
110 Amended by the Criminal Justice (Northern Ireland) Act 1945.
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case law,
111
is more restrictive allowing abortions to be legally carried out
only where there is a `real and serious' risk to the life of the mother,
including her physical and mental health. While opinions may not be as
universally anti-abortion as public discourse suggests,
112
the main unionist
and nationalist parties
113
remain opposed to any liberalization in the law.
114
Indeed, Smyth argues that both activist and official discourses on abortion in
Northern Ireland portray a universalist pro-life stance based upon `an
apparently shared ``Northern Irish'', moral, Christian culture'.
115
Most
significantly, one can see `cross-community' divisions between conserva-
tives and liberals where the former claim that the `distinctive cultural
values'
116
of the region give an over-whelming pro-life mandate. Smyth
concludes:
[t]hese debates over sexuality and reproduction point to a highly gendered
religious or moral form of cultural politics, which has served not to distinguish
Ulster from Ireland, as unionism is usually concerned with doing, but to
distinguish it from the rest of the UK.
117
In addition, domestic human rights institutions and organizations have not
engaged in the abortion debate. Indeed, in consultations over the content of
the proposed Bill of Rights, the NIHRC has avoided any critical engagement
with the issue. Fegan and Rebouche note that the Commission has taken a
neutral stance on abortion and, although it included a specific right to
reproductive healthcare in the draft Bill of Rights, has been careful to avoid
language which would appear to favour any liberalization in the law.
118
It
has been suggested that the climate of intimidation which discourages the
263
111 R. v. Bourne (1939) 1 K.B. 687.
112 Fegan and Rebouche note that `delving deeper into what is claimed as a ``vast
majority'' of anti-choice opinion may reveal an undercurrent of support for other
views': E. Fegan and R. Rebouche, `Northern Ireland's Abortion Law: The Morality
of Silence and the Censure of Agency' (2003) 11 Feminist Legal Studies 221, at
232±3.
113 The four main political parties in the North are the Democratic Unionist Party
(DUP), the more moderate Ulster Unionist Party (UUP), the nationalist Social
Democratic and Labour Party (SDLP), and the republican party, Sinn FeÂin.
114 In June 2000 a member of the DUP proposed a motion in the NI Assembly which
sought to prohibit any future motions to extend the 1967 Act to Northern Ireland.
An amendment, tabled by the Women's Coalition, to have the issue referred to the
Health, Social Services and Public Safety Committee was defeated and the motion
was passed by 47 votes to 17. By contrast, the secular loyalist party, the Progressive
Unionist Party (PUP) has taken a progressive stance on many social issues and,
indeed, was the only unionist party to support the extension of the 1967 Abortion
Act to Northern Ireland: see C. Mitchell and J.R. Tilley, `The Moral Minority:
Evangelical Protestants in Northern Ireland and Their Political Behaviour' (2004)
52 Political Studies 585, at 599.
115 Smyth, op. cit., n. 108.
116 id.
117 id.
118 Fegan and Rebouche, op. cit., n. 112, p. 244.
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public airing of pro-choice views in Northern Ireland
119
and the inevitable
`social contention' involved with a public dialogue on the issue, contributed
to the neutral strategy of the NIHRC.
120
In addition, that the NIHRC has
never had support across the communal divide, being viewed with suspicion
by unionist parties due to its perceived pro-nationalist/republican bias,
121
brings additional challenges when inhabiting discursive space. This is
particularly so when the issue, like that of abortion, is viewed as a question
of morality and is thus embedded within religious discourse where any
perceived liberalization or pro-choice positioning would spark criticism
across the communal divide. In relation to other human rights organizations,
Bell and Keenan note the particular difficulties NGOs face in enforcing
human rights in a post-conflict transitional environment.
122
In particular,
they point to the difficulties in securing funding for `oppositional work'
123
in
the context of a devolved NI Assembly (when in operation) as opposed to the
direct rule situation, because funders do not want to be seen to undermine the
newly established devolved government, particularly when its position
remains tenuous.
In relation to gay and lesbian politics, the literature shows that religious,
post-colonial, and political dialogue intersects with sectarianism to compound
the impact of `common heteronormative discourse'.
124
The result has been to
erase gay and lesbian sexuality from the dominant culture. No mainstream
political party in Northern Ireland, neither unionist or nationalist, has actively
sought to address gay and lesbian politics and certainly the only sustained
campaign, from the Democratic Unionist Party (DUP),
125
has been one of
anti-gay rhetoric. It is well known that the DUP is vehemently opposed to
homosexuality and, indeed, ran a campaign entitled `Save Ulster from
Sodomy' in an attempt to prevent the extension of the 1967 Homosexual Law
Reform Act to Northern Ireland.
126
Conrad notes, however, that even when
264
119 id.
120 id.
121 S. Livingstone and R. Murray, Evaluating the Effectiveness of National Human
Rights Institutions: The Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission with
Comparisons from South Africa (2005).
122 C. Bell and J. Keenan, `Human Rights Nongovernmental Organizations and the
Problems of Transition' (2004) 26 Human Rights Q. 330.
123 id., p. 365.
124 Kitchin and Lysaght, op. cit., n. 42, p. 493.
125 The DUP is the anti-Agreement Unionist party led by Reverend Ian Paisley, also
leader of the evangelical Free Presbyterian Church. After the 2003 Assembly
elections, the DUP surpassed the UUP as the largest party in the province gaining 30
seats (up from 22).
126 Homosexual activity was eventually decriminalized in Northern Ireland by the
passing of the Homosexual Offences (Northern Ireland) Order 1982 which followed
the ruling of the European Court of Human Rights in Dudgeon v. United Kingdom
(1981) 4 EHRR 149 which held that the prohibition on male homosexual activity
breached Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights.
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
political parties express a more tolerant view of homosexuality, they tend to
resist:
actively pursuing rights for queer people ± perhaps out of fear of alienating the
more conservative members of their constituencies, but also perhaps because
queers are not seen to contribute to the sectarian cause.
127
In addition, paramilitary organizations often `police their local communities
for what it views as antisocial behaviour, which often includes sexual
dissidence.'
128
Viewed against the levels of `unchallenged homophobia'
129
in Northern Ireland and alongside the historic lack of visible gay space,
130
the general reasons outlined for supporting assimilationist strategies in gay
and lesbian politics become particularly acute. In addition, one can point to
culturally-specific justifications.
2. Breaking down the two-communities framework
Pervasive reliance on the `two community' descriptor of Northern Ireland de-
emphasizes other references of identity such as race, class, gender, and sexual
orientation. However, displacing the binarism of identity politics in Northern
Ireland is not an easy task as it pervades `official discourse'
131
and the terms
of political negotiation. Indeed, Conrad notes that `official policy has
accommodated to the sectarian divide' and draws attention to the fact that
`politics has remained polarized around community loyalties, placing severe
limitations on the development of class-based or gender-based loyalties'.
132
Attempting to conceive a new political dialogue, Nic Craith points to Fraser's
`status model of recognition' as a useful framework as it goes beyond the
narrow focus on `group specific identity'.
133
The objective becomes `parity of
participation' as opposed to `parity of esteem in social life' and:
265
127 K. Conrad, `Women Troubles, Queer Troubles: Gender, Sexuality, and the Politics
of Selfhood in the Construction of the Northern Irish State' in Reclaiming Gender:
Transgressive Identities in Modern Ireland, eds M. Cohen and N.J. Curtin (1999)
55. See, also, Kitchin and Lysaght, op. cit., n. 42, p. 493.
128 Kitchin and Lysaght, id.
129 Institute for Conflict Research, N. Jarman and A. Tennant, An Acceptable
Prejudice? Homophobic Violence and Harassment in Northern Ireland (2003) 12.
130
Kitchin and Lysaght, op. cit., n. 42, p. 503. The Northern Ireland Life and Times Survey
reported in 2003 that in response to a question of classification on sexual orientation, 1
per cent of respondents identified themselves as gay or lesbian; 97 per cent identified
themselves as heterosexual or straight; 0 per cent as bisexual, and approximately 2 per
cent did not answer the question. See .
131 Nic Craith, op. cit., n. 56, p. 17. Noting the Anglo-Irish Agreement talked about
accommodating the `rights and identities of the two traditions', Nic Craith observes
that the Good Friday Agreement also uses Britishness and Irishness as legitimate
references of identity for people in Northern Ireland (p. 19).
132 Conrad, op. cit., n. 127, pp. 54±5 quoting R. Sales, Women Divided: Gender,
Religion, and Politics in Northern Ireland (1997) 202.
133 Nic Craith, op. cit., n. 56, p. 199.
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[i]n contrast with the `identity model' as promoted in the GFA [Good Friday
Agreement], the `status model' interprets the concept of justice as having
dimensions of both recognition and distribution. It does not confine itself to
the effects of institutionalised norms on the status of individuals but also
reviews the allocation of resources to them.
134
While this may present an opportunity to open up a new political discourse in
Northern Ireland, Nic Craith concedes that the dominance of the national
identity dialogue makes it an impossible project to implement in the short
term.
135
This is an important observation which indicates that breaking down
the rigidity of group identities is complicated by the politics of Northern
Ireland and the entrenchment of the binary expression of cultural belonging.
As this limited expression of the social and cultural landscape continues to
carry political currency, there may be little opportunity to move beyond the
constraining forces of this paradigm. Indeed, the zero-sum mind-set of
political and social actors in Northern Ireland may mean that any reduction in
the significance of collective cultural identification could be viewed as a
victory for the `other side' at the expense of a loss for one's collective. Thus,
because of the historic and contemporary weight placed upon group specifi-
city, the assumptive location of individuals within polarized communities may
not be open to challenge by a direct attempt to deconstruct group boundaries.
If the hegemonic expression of identity politics cannot be removed, the
question then becomes how to displace its two-dimensional representation.
Against this background, it seems that one must find a way to explore the
intersection between communal and other identity markers, an exploration
which may reduce the relevance of the two-communities framework.
136
Thus, rather than challenging `community' boundaries by direct means, the
focus becomes minority, or otherwise unarticulated, expressions of identity
and while Fraser's politics of recognition may have little immediate effect at
a macro-level to complicate the allocation of `community-based loyalties' in
Northern Ireland, at a micro-level, one can use this model to politicize the
existence of minority identities, to quantify the cost of their `misrecognition',
and to devise remedies.
137
266
134 id.
135 id., p. 200.
136 id., p 20.
137 While the strategic use of identity markers may appear to contradict Fraser's politics
of recognition which attempts to go beyond the collective identity paradigm, the two
can be reconciled. Fraser's status model of recognition means that remedies for
misrecognition are not viewed as a question of identity per se, but of `establishing
the misrecognized party as a full member of society, capable of participating on a
par with the rest': Fraser, op. cit., n. 39, p. 113. Thus the remedy, while one of
recognition, is about `overcoming subordination' and not `valorizing group identity'
(p. 114) which allows one to use references of identity within recognition claims in
non-reifying terms. Under this model, both assimilationist and deconstructionist
agendas can remedy misrecognition without being seen to represent the universal
characterization of those within the maligned group.
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However, the assertion of new forms of identity, such as gender, ethnicity,
sexual orientation, to displace the hegemony of the `two-communities
framework' is not without criticism. Speaking of the politics of hybridiza-
tion, defined by Rowe and Schelling as `the ways in which forms become
separated from existing practices and recombine with new forms in new
practices',
138
Nic Craith notes that `[a]lthough such a process serves to
deconstruct the rigidity of the larger cultural groupings, new constructs can
become similarly fossilised.'
139
By seeking to attach other forms of identity
to subjects within traditional community-based localities, the premise for
many is still misplaced in that, notwithstanding their multi-layered
application, one remains reliant on fixed characterizations of identity.
140
However, in this context, recognition claims are being used strategically
141
in an attempt to displace the two-traditions framework which may not be
permeable by direct attack but by speaking the language understood in
Northern Ireland, that is, through the medium of identity/recognition claims.
Thus, working within the framework of the politics of recognition, one must
complicate the `two-traditions paradigm' by adding other layers of identity
components. This involves the use of indicators of identity, such as sexual
orientation, as opposed to an attempt to remove references of identity to a
point where the very nature of their specificity is nullified. Thus, although
sounding a note of caution about hybridization generally and not wishing to
overstate the potential of this strategy, Quinn concludes that:
... identities based on sexual oppression can counter-weigh religious or
cultural grievances and create agendas which compete with ethnic identifica-
tions. And as a result it may be possible to evolve new narratives for and about
life in Northern Ireland.
142
In Northern Ireland, therefore, making visible other references of identity
challenges the immutability of the two-traditions model and helps to create a
`mosaic of identities'
143
from which commonalities can flourish across
historically entrenched polarities and questions can be raised about the
rigidity of individual identity markers within the now more complex social
and legal subject. In practical terms, this can encourage the development of
`cross-cutting alliances'
144
which can be a powerful vehicle for change.
267
138 W. Rowe and V. Schelling, Memory and Modernity: popular culture in Latin
America (1991) 231, quoted in J. Pieterse, `Globalisation as Hybridization' in
Global Modernities, eds. M. Featherstone et al. (1995) 49.
139 Nic Craith, op. cit., n. 56, p. 197.
140 id., p. 199.
141 Fraser, op. cit., n. 38, pp. 80±1.
142 V. Quinn, `On the Borders of Allegiance: Identity Politics in Ulster' in De-Centring
Sexualities: Politics and representations beyond the metropolis, eds. R. Phillips et
al. (2000) 272.
143 Nic Craith, op. cit., n. 56, p. 196.
144 M. Beirne, `Social and Economic Rights as Agents for Change' in Human Rights in
the Community: Rights as Agents for Change, ed. C. Harvey (2005) 50.
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Indeed, it was the force of the `rainbow coalitions' of marginalized groups in
Northern Ireland that helped to centralize human rights and equality in the
political settlement.
145
However, if the purpose is to multi-layer identity in Northern Ireland,
`other' identity components must become visible. This carries particular
significance in the context of sexual orientation which can be a hidden form
of subjectivity. Indeed, there has been an increase in homophobic harassment
and violence in Northern Ireland with at least two murders in Belfast
146
and
120 homophobic incidents being recorded by the Police Service of Northern
Ireland between July 2000 and December 2002.
147
A recent report noted that:
[h]omophobia and discrimination against LGB people is still regarded as
`normal' and justifiable in Northern Ireland, for many it is still a `respectable
and acceptable prejudice'.
148
Further, in one local study, Kitchin and Lysaght found that individuals who
were `identifiable as gay through their dress, gait, and so on, reported the
highest levels of homophobic harassment' which led the authors to note the
practice of self-regulation where sexual dissidents selectively revealed their
sexual identity.
149
Being gay or lesbian must become an accepted form of
being and, as relational expression is the most visible form of sexual
orientation identification, civil partnerships becomes a strategy which
warrants serious consideration.
3. Exposing cracks in the moral conservatism of political dialogue
The debates around civil partnerships also show some movement in the
seemingly `universal' moral conservatism of Northern Ireland and, in
particular, how it maps onto the political divide. While no political party has
been prepared to take the initiative to address sexual citizenship, the
extension of civil partnerships to the region within a United Kingdom-wide
Westminster Bill forced a reaction from the mainstream political parties.
150
268
145 Bell et al., op. cit., n. 101, p. 322; Beirne, id., pp. 50±51.
146 Ian Flanagan was found murdered in September 2002 and Aaron McCauley in
December 2002.
147 Jarman and Tennant, op. cit., n. 129, pp. 21±30. The Criminal Justice (No. 2) (NI)
Order 2004 now imposes a statutory requirement on judges to treat racial and
religious aggravation and hatred of sexual orientation or disability as an aggravating
factor when sentencing.
148 id., p. 10. See, also, Kitchen and Lysaght, op. cit., n. 42.
149 Kitchin and Lysaght, id., p. 494.
150 One should not underestimate the opportunity presented by the Civil Partnership
Act to make legislative progress on same-sex partnerships in Northern Ireland at a
time when the local Assembly is suspended, thus making less complicated the
absorption of Northern Ireland provisions within a United Kingdom-wide strategy.
Of course, if the Assembly is restored, attempts may be made to revisit issues
arising from the Act which are within its legislative competence. However, the
withdrawal of the right to register a same-sex partnership is a different conversation
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
The DUP, as expected, took a very strong line.
151
Citing the lack of support
for the scheme in Northern Ireland
152
and the distinctive cultural and moral
values of people within this jurisdiction, they made several unsuccessful
attempts to prevent the Act's extension to the region without the approval of
the local Assembly. The argument that the commencement of the provisions
relating to Northern Ireland be delayed to allow the devolved administration,
if and when restored, to decide upon the matter was dubbed `pick-and-mix
Unionism',
153
particularly as during the suspension of the Assembly other
legislation had been passed for Northern Ireland either by the Order in
Council procedure or by an Act of Parliament without similar arguments
being made.
154
As such, these moves were seen to be less about the
constitutional implications of adopting a United Kingdom-wide strategy and
more to do with fundamental opposition to the legislation. Despite the
DUP's assertion that `both sides' in Northern Ireland were united in
opposition to the Bill `because they have a high view of Christian ethics and,
in particular, marriage',
155
this did not prove to be the case across the
political spectrum. The DUP and UUP MPs voted against the Bill,
156
the
SDLP voted in favour of it,
157
and while Sinn FeÂindonot take their seats at
Westminster and therefore did not vote, party policy supports civil partner-
ships and even same-sex marriage.
158
This demonstrates an interesting
269
from the question of whether to introduce it in the first place and thus the inclusion
of Northern Ireland within the Westminster legislation is particularly significant, a
point which I do not think was lost on those vehemently opposed to this strategy.
151 The second reading of the Bill was due to take place on 16 September 2004 but was
rescheduled after Ian Paisley, leader of the DUP, asked the Prime Minister to delay
the vote because all DUP MPs would be involved in talks aimed at restoring the
power-sharing Assembly (H. McDonald, `Blair delays marriage bill to give Paisley
party chance to vote' Guardian,19September 2004).
152 Responses to the OLR Consultation Paper revealed that only 14 per cent of
respondents supported the proposal to extend the Bill to Northern Ireland. However,
there were only 462 responses to the consultation and the government revealed that
it subsequently received 400 letters of support for the Bill from Northern Ireland
(425 H.C. Debs. col. 176 (12 October 2004)). In addition, the majority of organiza-
tions in Northern Ireland that responded to the consultation, such as the Northern
Ireland Human Rights Commission, the Equality Commission for Northern Ireland,
and the Northern Ireland Committee of the Irish Congress of Trade Unions,
supported the Bill.
153 H.C. Standing Committee D, col. 218 (19 October 2004).
154 id., col. 408.
155 H.C. Standing Committee D, col. 213 (19 October 2004).
156 Lady Herman, a pro-Agreement UUP MP, abstained, a fact highlighted in a
campaign document published by DUP candidate, Peter Weir, in the run-up to the
recent election: .
157 The Women's Coalition, the Alliance party, the Green party, and the Progressive
Unionist party also support civil partnerships.
158 See `A Sinn FeÂinResponse to ``Making a Bill of Rights for Northern Ireland'' ± the
Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission consultation document' (December
2001).
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
divergence of opinion where the two main unionist parties opposed the Act,
while the two main nationalist parties supported it, thus appearing to map the
emergence of more progressive attitudes onto the communal divide. It
suggests a move away from the position where all main political parties in
Northern Ireland unite in opposing progressive attitudes and runs counter to
the argument that `[s]tate regulation of sexual morality . . . would appear to
be one of the few areas where cross-community agreement can occur.'
159
Thus, one can see schisms in the perceived unanimity across the communal
divide on issues relating to sexual morality. While both main nationalist and
unionist parties oppose any liberalization of the law on abortion, the former
support full citizenship rights for gays and lesbians and the latter oppose it.
Interestingly, while the NIHRC has not taken any position on the question of
abortion, it supports civil partnerships.
160
There are, of course, differences
between these issues which help to explain these divergences.
The abortion discourse is couched in overtly moral terms.
161
As opposed
to being a question surrounding women's rights to reproductive choice,
162
it
is discussed in `pseudo-religious terms' of `preserving foetal life'.
163
Fegan
and Rebouche say:
the framing of the abortion debate in terms of balancing rights, those of
women seeking abortions and those of so-called `unborn children', contorts the
central issue.
164
By contrast, gay and lesbian rights can be placed squarely within the equality
agenda which, in the wake of the Good Friday Agreement (GFA), has
particular importance in Northern Ireland's political landscape. Due to the
historical circumstances of the conflict which, according to the prevailing
view was `substantially triggered by the pervasive discrimination and dis-
enfranchisement experienced by the minority Catholic community',
165
Northern Ireland has a long pedigree in using rights-based strategies to
tackle discrimination and inequality. Anti-discrimination legislation on the
grounds of religious belief and/or political opinion has been in place since
1976 and the concept of `mainstreaming' equality, that is, making equality
issues part of government thinking in policy-making, has been on the agenda
since the early 1990s.
166
High levels of social and economic deprivation
were recognized as contributory factors to the sectarian conflict and thus the
270
159 Smyth, op. cit., n. 108.
160 NIHRC, Making a Bill of Rights for Northern Ireland ± A Consultation by the
Northern Ireland Human Rights Commission (2001) 60.
161 Fegan and Rebouche, op. cit., n. 112, p. 222.
162 id., p. 223.
163 id., p. 245.
164 id., p. 231.
165 G. McKeever and F. Ni AolaÂin, `Thinking Globally, Acting Locally: Enforcing
Socio-Economic Rights in Northern Ireland' (2004) 2 European Human Rights Law
Rev. 158, at 166.
166 id., pp. 167±71.
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
negotiated settlement involves rights-based strategies to tackle the `root
causes of socio-economic deprivations'.
167
In particular, section 75 of the
Northern Ireland Act 1998 places public authorities in Northern Ireland
under a statutory duty when carrying out their functions to `have due regard'
to the need to `promote equality of opportunity' between persons of different
religious belief, political opinion, racial group, age, marital status or sexual
orientation; between men and women generally; between persons with a
disability and persons without; and between persons with dependants and
persons without.
That sexual orientation has been included as a section 75 category means
that pro-Agreement parties who negotiated and bought into this framework
will find it more difficult not to support gay and lesbian rights. This may help
to explain political attitude across the communal divide as nationalist/
republican parties fully embraced the GFA, while the DUP remain anti-
Agreement and the UUP combines both pro- and anti-Agreement opinion.
Further, it is accepted that nationalists have always been more comfortable
with the language of human rights and equality
168
and, indeed, have been
engaging with this discourse since the civil rights campaign in the 1960s
sought to remove discrimination between Catholics and Protestants. Thus,
while no party has ever taken the initiative to promote gay and lesbian rights
or to address discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation, when it comes
to taking a reactive stance on a policy generated elsewhere, the domestic
landscape encourages a more `progressive' response from the political actors
who have helped to create this liberal framework of equality, human rights,
and non-discrimination. This may also help to explain the more ambiguous
approach of the UUP on sexual politics as its members become `increasingly
divided over attitudes to pluralism'.
169
Mitchell and Tilley note:
[t]he wing of the party that supported the Agreement, which could almost be
described as liberal and pluralist, stresses an attachment to UK citizenship that
is multicultural and interested in the promotion of civil liberties.
170
There is evidence to suggest that while the DUP remains hardline on con-
stitutional and social policy issues, the more moderate UUP has lost electoral
ground due to the `importance of moral conservatism' in influencing party
choice.
171
Mitchell and Tilley point to the moral connotations of political
issues, such as the early prisoner releases secured by the GFA, which the
DUP has steadfastly opposed while the UUP is seen to have lost `the strength
of its convictions'.
172
It is, however, the `consistently conservative moral
stance' on social issues which, according to Mitchell and Tilley, clearly
271
167 id., pp. 159±60.
168 Livingstone and Murray, op. cit., n. 121.
169 Mitchell and Tilley, op. cit., n. 114, p. 599.
170 id.
171 id., p. 597.
172 id., p. 598.
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distinguishes the DUP from other unionist parties. Thus, while the UUP
remains conservative and its MPs voted against civil partnerships,
173
there
are signs of liberalization
174
within the party that `stand in stark contrast to
the continuity of the DUP's message'.
175
Indeed, on civil partnerships, their
opposition is certainly less militant than that of the DUP whose language of
opposition has not changed from the days of the `Save Ulster from Sodomy'
campaign, being expressed in overtly puritan terms with many biblical
references cited in objection to homosexuality.
176
When speculation
mounted that Stephen King, adviser to former UUP leader David Trimble,
married his gay partner in Canada, a member of the DUP was reported to
have said that he should no longer work for the party on the basis that `most
people in Northern Ireland find homosexual relationships offensive and
indeed obnoxious'.
177
While some elements within the UUP espouse similar
rhetoric,
178
party policy seems to have taken a more tempered line. A UUP
representative was present at a recent meeting organized by the Coalition on
Sexual Orientation (CoSO) on gay and lesbian rights
179
although it was
reported that they were the only party in attendance not to accept that
`commitment to equality was a matter of party policy and not individual
conscience'.
180
Thus, in Northern Ireland, the liberal framework of equality, human
rights, and non-discrimination is gradually helping to deliver practical
change.
181
Kitchin and Lysaght argue that the new political climate of the
Peace Process has led to the redefinition of sexual citizenship in Northern
272
173 With one abstention.
174 Mitchell and Tilley, op. cit., n. 114, p. 599.
175 id.
176 Indeed, a DUP councillor recently stated that hurricane Katrina was sent by God to
punish the New Orleans gay community for holding a gay pride festival as a
warning to nations `where such wickedness is increasingly promoted and practised'
(A. Chrisafis `Katrina Sent by God to Punish New Orleans Gays' Guardian,19
November 2005 ).
177 A. Chrisafis, `DUP hits at Trimble adviser's gay marriage' Guardian,1February
2005. Indeed, the DUP recently suspended one of its members following allegations
that he engaged in homosexual activity.
178 Ulster peer Lord Maginnis, former Ulster Unionist Party MP, spoke against the Civil
Partnerships Bill in the House of Lords, stating that it had been introduced due to the
efforts of a `vocal minority in society' who `want to indulge in a relationship which
most likely involves unnatural sexual practices' (662 H.L. Debs., cols. 1370±1 (24
June 2004)).
179 The DUP was the only party not to send a representative.
180 B. McDaid and C. Weir, `Query over why DUP not present at gay rights meeting'
Belfast Telegraph,4May 2005.
181 For an assessment of the potential impact of the equality discourse on the position of
gays and lesbians, see M.A. Livingston, `Out of the ``Troubles'' and into Rights:
Protection for Gays, Lesbians, and Bisexuals in Northern Ireland through Equality
Legislation in the Belfast Agreement' (2004) 27 Fordham International Law J.
1207.
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
Ireland in four main ways.
182
First, it has resulted in the growth of
organizations in the voluntary sector dealing with gay issues; secondly, new
equality legislation has addressed the need for protection for individuals who
are GLBT; thirdly, there have been significant changes in the nature of
policing homophobic incidents and finally, the growth of gay (and mixed)
social opportunities and venues.
183
In terms of the equality legislation, the
inclusion of sexual orientation within section 75 was the first statutory
recognition in Northern Ireland of the need to target discrimination based
upon sexual orientation.
184
That the impact of policies on designated groups
must now be considered under section 75, coupled with an expansion in the
consultation process involved in law reform and legal policy debates during
which group representatives are specifically invited to participate,
185
allows,
previously unarticulated, issues to infuse policy development.
186
Prior to
this, Beirne observes that sexual orientation was a largely hidden issue in the
region.
187
That it was placed within the emerging equality discourse is due,
in part, to the work of the umbrella group the Coalition on Sexual
Orientation and thus it seems that:
apreviously`invisible' and almost entirely disr egarded community is
developing its own voice and creating the mechanism by which its voice (or
indeed its many voices) will be increasingly influential.
188
Further, against the language of equality inherent in the political settlement,
the rhetoric of the DUP on homosexuality is becoming marginalized in
public discourse. Indeed, when Ian Paisley's Free Presbyterian Church,
alongside a coalition of Christian groups, sought to ban the 2005 Gay Pride
273
182 Kitchin and Lysaght, op. cit., n. 104, p. 94.
183 id.
184 B. Dickson, `New Human Rights Protections in Northern Ireland' (1999) 3
European Law Rev. 3. Section 75 involves mainstreaming equality, in other words,
to infuse the process of decision-making with principles of equality as opposed to
relying on reactive anti-discrimination legislation. Although it is non-justiciable in
that individuals cannot take legal action for non-compliance, Dickson notes its
importance in `[concentrating] the mind': B. Dickson, `Protection of Human Rights
± Lessons from Northern Ireland' (2000) 3 European Human Rights Law Rev. 213,
at 223.
185 See Schedule 9, paras. 4(2)(a)-(b); 5; and 9(2), Northern Ireland Act 1998.
186 E. Breitenbach, Researching Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Issues in
Northern Ireland (2004) 2. However, while s. 75 may carry the potential for the
development of policies which are sensitive to the needs of gays and lesbians, the
lack of information on sexual orientation may nullify its immediate effect. See
Equality Commission for Northern Ireland, Report on the Implementation of the
Section 75 Statutory Duties: 1 April 2002 ±31 March 2003 (2004) para. 5.1.33. On a
positive note, however, formalizing the need for public authorities to give `due
regard' to sexual orientation when developing policy has, by itself, had a positive
impact in raising the profile of these issues, allowing them to become more visible
and initiating a discussion as to why they are not.
187 Beirne, op. cit., n. 144, p. 52.
188 id.
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Parade in Belfast citing the need to protect children from `this perverted
form of sexuality, in your face with attitude',
189
both media and political
response generally condemned this opposition. According to the SDLP:
Belfast's future has to be as an open, prosperous and cosmopolitan city
[where] everyone feels welcome and certainly the gay pride parade
complements this image. Unfortunately there is still a hardcore of bigots
and begrudgers in parts of Northern Ireland who still find this event
offensive.
190
The matter was passed to the Parades Commission, an independent quasi-
judicial body set up in 1997 to adjudicate on contentious parades in Northern
Ireland (normally of the sectarian kind) who ruled to let the parade go ahead
without restriction.
However, while the equality framework has created the opportunity to
`destabilise hegemonic moral conservatism',
191
movement on gay and
lesbian rights should be seen as a by-product of the equality agenda rather
than as `a particular commitment to sexual citizenship'.
192
Indeed, Bell et al.
make the point that the institutional reform brought about by the GFA was
`easier to present in ``good practice'' terms rather than ``concessions to
nationalists'' the more it operated to benefit a broader range of com-
munities'.
193
In the absence of the equality agenda, therefore, it is by no
means clear that sexual citizenship would feature in political dialogue and
thus one should make the most of these opportunities to politicize gay and
lesbian marginalization. The same can be said for civil partnerships. The
policy was generated elsewhere and thus politicians in Northern Ireland
simply had to react rather than take the initiative. Further, the backdrop of the
equality framework meant that the issue was placed within a liberal view of
sexual citizenship.
194
This has helped to shape the political response and has
allowed cracks in the alleged universal moral conservatism to emerge. By
contrast, taking Northern Ireland out of the civil partnerships scheme would
have had serious repercussions. Indeed, the danger of an assimilationist
strategy of this kind being hijacked by conservative forces to entrench current
norms is complicated in the context of Northern Ireland where the reverse
may actually be the case. Rejecting the extension of civil partnerships to the
region would give force to the myth, used in the abortion debates, that
Northern Ireland is different. Rather than initiating a more deconstructive
agenda, it would play into the hands of the moral conservatives and reinforce
the mantra of the `distinctive cultural values'
195
of the region.
274
189 S. McKay, `More right than most to walk Queen's highway' Irish News,19July
2005.
190 Dr. A. McDonnell, SDLP Press Release, 28 June 2005.
191 Kitchin and Lysaght, op. cit., n. 104, p. 99.
192 id., p. 95.
193 Bell et al., op. cit., n. 101, p. 322.
194 See Kitchin and Lysaght, op. cit., n. 104, p. 84.
195 Smyth, op. cit., n. 108.
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In addition, the rights-based agenda in Northern Ireland may also provide
the tools to access more deconstructive questions and tackle the root causes
of structural inequality. Indeed, s. 75 in promoting equality of opportunity
for all is an `important tool for change'.
196
Even further, it has been argued
that this statutory equality duty could be used to `codify access to socio-
economic rights'
197
by including the duty to promote equality on the grounds
of socio-economic status. While it is outside the scope of this paper to
discuss this in any detail, focusing on socio-economic deprivations may have
more potential to destabilize the norm than seeking to use gay and lesbian
politics as the vehicle for change. Indeed, Beirne argues that the promotion
and protection of socio-economic rights can force change because, amongst
other reasons, it will alter people's thinking about `power arrangements in
society'
198
and thus carry potential for the redistribution of economic
power.
199
CONCLUSION
Using Fraser's status model of recognition to politicize the existence of
minority identities, a number of general arguments have been made in
support of the assimilationist strategy of the Civil Partnership Act. A
deconstructionist agenda is more difficult to achieve, and it is by no means
clear that gay and lesbian politics can be employed to achieve such
wholescale change. To think otherwise is to underestimate the power of the
existing devaluation of gay and lesbian politics. Against the potential
paralysis of holding out for something more, continuing to withhold legally
recognized partnership status from same-sex relationships reinforces
heteronormative dominance. In terms of family law policy, it has also been
argued that the Act may help to create the conditions for the development of
more disruptive theories of family obligations.
In the context of Northern Ireland, the specificity of the cultural landscape
provides additional reasons for supporting this strategy. There remains
political currency in the `two-traditions paradigm', which means that public
discourse may remain locked in the specificity of identity frameworks. As
such, it is not helpful at this point to seek to deconstruct characterizations of
identity in favour of a fluid concept of being disconnected from `selected or
inherited traits that define people or communities as certain kinds of
individuals or groups'.
200
Thus, in terms of gay and lesbian politics, the
assimilation/anti-assimilation question is shaped by the sectarian binarism of
275
196 Beirne, op. cit., n. 144, p. 51.
197 McKeever and Ni AolaÂin, op. cit., n. 165, p. 170.
198 Beirne, op. cit., n. 144, p. 46.
199 id.
200 Nic Craith, op. cit., n. 91, p. 5.
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School
Northern politics
201
and, in this respect, it is submitted that anti-assimila-
tionist concerns must be relegated in favour of an assimilationist approach in
order to redress the historical reductionism in the politics of identity in
Northern Ireland.
Further, one can see the advantages of using the equality framework to
politicize gay and lesbian rights in Northern Ireland. This has helped to
create a more `progressive' political dialogue where anti-gay rhetoric is
becoming marginalized. It is within this agenda that the Civil Partnership
Act must be viewed and its extension to the region to be supported, not least
for allowing cracks in the seemingly universal moral conservatism of
political dialogue to emerge. By contrast, rejecting the inclusion of Northern
Ireland within this scheme would reinforce the suppression of `progressive'
issues and the claims surrounding the `distinctive cultural values'
202
of the
region.
276
201 Conrad, op. cit., n. 127, p. 55.
202 Smyth, op. cit., n. 108.
ß2006 The Author. Journal Compilation ß2006 Cardiff University Law School

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