Skip to main content

The headline on the city-section front of The Ottawa Citizen seemed an odd hybrid between social commentary and sports score.

"Ottawa ties Vancouver as gay capital."

Statistics Canada had just released census data indicating that, on a per capita basis, the two cities lead the country in the number of couples openly declaring themselves gay and lesbian -- a figure that in the Ottawa-Gatineau region numbered 2,170 couples, or roughly 1 per cent of all relationships.

The headline made Alex Munter laugh -- "It's not a competition!" -- but it did not displease him. As the first elected politician in the National Capital Region to declare himself gay, the 34-year-old Ottawa city councillor sees the openness as significant progress from that day in 1993 when he decided to be truthful about his private life.

Progress, but with a good distance yet to go.

Ottawa, politics and sexual orientation have never been a comfortable mix. Pierre Trudeau was hounded by slurs about his sexuality when he first arrived in Ottawa. When New Democrat Svend Robinson publicly acknowledged his homosexuality in the late 1980s, all then prime minister Brian Mulroney had to say was, "That would be something, Svend Robinson as minister of defence" -- wink, wink, nudge, nudge -- and the sniggers lasted all the way to the next election, during which Robinson's office was ransacked.

Robinson won but the sniggers survived, with Canadian Alliance Leader Stephen Harper accused yesterday of making a homophobic gibe at Robinson during a Commons debate on political ethics.

Munter himself encountered intolerance when he ran for regional council in 1994. Antigay campaigners showed up at all-candidates' meetings and swamped the papers with letters condemning Munter. He won handily.

"I honestly don't think that would happen any more," he said. "If it came up today, it would seem like it was coming from somewhere out in left field."

What Munter says has happened over the past decade is a "huge evolution of thinking" when it comes to sexual declarations, largely brought about through legislation that offers protection to gays and gives legal status to same-sex relationships.

When he went public, the number of openly gay politicians numbered in the "single digits." Now there are dozens at a variety of levels. British Columbia has had a gay cabinet minister and the mayor of Winnipeg, openly gay Glen Murray, is today being courted by both provincial and federal parties.

"When I was young and wanted to get into politics," Tim Stevenson said two years ago when he was named to the short-lived cabinet of NDP premier Ujjal Dosanjh, "I was afraid if I came out, I'd never get elected. I've gone from the closet to the cabinet in 25 years."

That is not, however, to suggest sexual orientation can be declared a non-issue. In Murray's last election he had to deal with a Pentecostal minister urging voters to shun the mayor for his sins. And at the federal level, the Canadian Alliance comes under fire regularly for veiled and not-so-veiled remarks in the House.

"It still lurks," Munter said.

During the recent smoking debate in Ottawa, Munter found that when opponents grew angry the antigay remarks would often follow. They ranged from the mild -- "We let you be gay, you let us smoke" -- to the threatening, a couple of times to the point where the police investigated.

"I compare it to anti-Semitism," Munter said. "Jewish people are today fully accepted members of society. They have success where once that success would be denied to them. But I don't think anyone would ever suggest that anti-Semitism has disappeared."

One Toronto university professor has, however, put forward the suggestion that a declaration of sexual orientation can actually benefit a politician in that it shows honesty.

"It does connote guts," Munter conceded. "But as it becomes less and less unusual, it denotes less and less guts -- which is, I think, a good thing in the long run."

What's more important, he said, is a generational shift. Older gays often believed there was "no one else in the world like me." Then came Munter's generation, knowing there were others, but unsure of where they fit in.

The past decade, he believes, has led to a transformation. Television characters, protective legislation, more open media coverage and successful role models such as Murray -- and Munter himself, for that matter -- have changed the landscape.

It is not perfect, as yesterday's spat proves, but it is improved.

"Today's generation," Munter said, "will not expect to be discriminated against just because they are gay. They will have the same expectations for life and happiness that everyone has."

And not be afraid, when Statistics Canada calls next time, to stand up and be counted.

rmacgregor@globeandmail.ca

Follow related authors and topics

Authors and topics you follow will be added to your personal news feed in Following.

Interact with The Globe