Equality in tying the knot has changed Iowa politics

In eight short years, we've gone 180 degrees on marriage politics in Iowa.

Consider this past week.

Democratic nominee for governor Jack Hatch warned that if Republicans take over the Legisalture and Gov. Terry Branstad is re-elected, the governor will use his 'bully pulpit” to back a renewed GOP drive to ban same-sex marriages. Branstad insisted a constitutional amendment banning same-sex marriages is really a 'legislative issue,” and not one of his priorities. Although he still thinks Iowans should have a vote on the issue.

So Hatch went on the attack. And the governor danced a bit, seeking to sidestep the issue and change the subject. I'll assess Hatch's argument in a moment.

But it's remarkable how much has changed just since 2006, when it was Democratic nominee Chet Culver twisting himself into a knot trying to navigate same-sex marriage politics.

Culver said he personally opposed same-sex marriages, but didn't favor a constitutional amendment. Iowa's statutory ban was enough, he argued, as he battled Republican Jim Nussle. The GOP congressman voted twice for federal marriage amendments, opposed civil unions and even voted against allowing gays and lesbians to adopt children in the District of Columbia.

As late as 2008, Culver insisted he would do 'whatever it takes to protect a marriage between a man and a woman.” When the Iowa Supreme Court struck down Iowa's same-sex marriage ban in April 2009, it took Culver and his staff four days to come up with a response. To his credit, he supported the ruling, and became a backer of marriage equality.

Of course, Branstad beat Culver and is a heavy favorite to beat Hatch in November, for reasons that have nothing to do with his stand on marriage. But for other Republican candidates in Iowa, where same-sex marriages have been legal for several years, the effects have been overwhelmingly positive and polls show increasing support, marriage has become a minefield.

GOP candidates with a lot less clout and history than Branstad are going to find themselves under fire and in tied a Culverian knot. Once a surefire winner for culture crusaders, opposing marriage equality is now about as popular as flip phones.

That's why, with all due respect to Hatch, I don't think a marriage ban is going to rise from the ashes in Iowa, no matter who runs the Statehouse.

For one thing, there's an excellent chance that the U.S. Supreme Court will take up at least one federal court rulings its received striking down same-sex marriage bans in several states. Justices hold their first private conference of the new court term on Monday, and so begins a waiting game to see which case the court takes if its justices decide to step up and settle the issue.

If SCOTUS decides that 2015 is the fateful year for marriage equality, I doubt even a fresh, politically emboldened GOP Legisalture would vote to end marriage equality with a historic national ruling looming. Even a desire to please the party's base is a poor argument for a making a politically ill-advised and potentially hollow gesture.

The early betting line is that the Supreme Court will rule in favor of marriage equality, making all state maneuvers moot. If the court surprises us, and leaves marriage in the hands of states, Hatch's prediction of a fresh drive from the evangelical right could come to pass.

Even so, an Iowa amendment would have to clear two general assemblies. And even with Republicans in charge, that's no slam dunk. The number or Republicans abandoning the party's marriage dogma is growing steadily. Some may show up in the Legisalture and vote no. If it did pass, the earliest it would appear on a statewide ballot is 2018. Judging by the rapid advance of equality's public support and political clout, it would get clobbered.

Governors have no formal role in the amendment process, as Branstad points out. And in nearly four years back on the job, Branstad hasn't used his bully pulpit to bash same-sex marriage. If anything, the governor is skittish on the subject. He supports an amendment vote, but has done little to make it happen. His usual response is that he's focused on other issues.

Back in 2009, Branstad seemed open to civil unions, until a conservative backlash swiftly prompted staff to walk back his open-mindedness. Des Moines University added domestic partner benefits while Branstad was its president, and its campus was welcoming and diverse. This is a smart guy who knows, deep down, all the dire warnings from the righteous right about gaymageddon have been flat wrong. He's no Bob Vander Plaats.

Branstad spoke last night at the Iowa Faith and Freedom Coalition banquet, well after the deadline for this column. Perhaps he proved me wrong.

In any event, I think Hatch's scenario is highly unlikely.

A far better, sharper line of attack would point out that Branstad also is no leader on a defining, historic civil rights issue.

The governor often professes to love Iowa, and yet, he still throws in with folks who would dictate who Iowans can love, and which families should be dubbed unconstitutional. Branstad has been governor for almost 20 years, but he's failed to see how Iowa has changed, and how some changes have made it better and stronger. He's the longest-serving governor of a state with a long, proud civil rights history. But he refuses to pick up the torch.

Branstad is a powerful political figure, unbeaten, popular, on his way to winning an unprecedented sixth term. He's uniquely positioned to take some risks, break with conventions and carve out a legacy beyond tax cuts and fertilizer plants. He could have used his famous political instincts to sense changing winds and lead his party away from its demographically disastrous stand on marriage. He could have made a real difference when it counted.

But he didn't do it. He played it safe. Iowa has turned 180 degrees and is moving forward. But the governor still is facing backward.

l Comments: (319) 398-8452; todd.dorman@thegazette.com