Are we really so liberal?

The reputation of the capital as a gay-friendly city seemed assured - until the brutal murder of a gay man on Clapham Common

Published in the Evening Standard 20 October 2005

We like to think we've left all that behind. We're living in enlightened times now, we tell ourselves, in a city where difference is celebrated, diversity is a strength and where tolerance is the norm. And then one event comes along to spoil it all – to remind us that London is not yet Utopia.

So it was with the murder at the weekend of Jody Dobrowski – battered to death on Clapham Common, each blow apparently accompanied by the most vicious anti-gay abuse. His death will grieve, but probably not shock, London's gay community which has known first-hand about the rise in homophobic violence. But it should be a shock to the rest of us.

We've got used to thinking of ourselves and our city as the capital of right-on. Other parts of the country might still be saddled with 1950s prejudices, but London is freedom city – whether it be rainbow flags flying in Old Compton Street or, drawings of muscled, shirtless boys on summertime posters for Gay Pride.

We won the Olympic Games, we say, because we showed we are a place of welcome for all people, no matter who they are or where they come from. As Ken Livingstone announced to the Trafalgar Square vigil that followed the July 7 bombings, London is “The world in one city.”

Recognition and acceptance of lesbian and gay Londoners has been central to that new ethos. Ken Livingstone made headlines a quarter century ago when he decried anti-gay prejudice - “We're all bisexual,” he declared – but former Conservative mayoral candidate Steve Norris confirmed the shift in 2000. He broke with his party over the abolition of Section 28 of the Local Government Act, the notorious ban on local councils doing anything to “intentionally promote homosexuality.” He wanted to see the section dumped. His stance was genuine, but it also recognised that if he was to be politically viable in London he could do no other.

Thus a self-image is built, of London as, if not quite the San Francisco of Britain, then at least the New York: a grown-up metropolis sophisticated enough to take sexual difference in its stride. Not for us the neanderthal prejudices of the provinces. Instead we could laugh at the August tale of the drunken Dorset builder who punched a DJ, breaking his nose, for putting on Wham!'s Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go, accusing him of playing “gay” music.

We can chuckle too at Little Britain's “Only gay in the village” sketch, enjoying the contrast between rural naivete and urban knowingness. For many, homophobia seemed a distant reality, one that could be treated ironically. Suddenly it seemed OK for people to use the word “gay” disparagingly - “I know it's a bit gay but...” - as if real homophobia had vanished. (A similar thing has happened with sexism, making “girlie” and the like newly-acceptable vocabulary.)

You can see how this has happened. In the last few years, the change in attitudes has been dramatic. Now the Metropolitan police promotes a high-profile gay officer, Deputy Assistant Commissioner Brian Paddick, and gives respect to the Gay Police Association. The Met accords anti-gay attacks the same serious status as racist ones and promises that gay victims will be interviewed by gay officers.

The government's record is even more remarkable. While Labour has disappointed the left in almost every area, it has delivered consistently on gay rights, from abolishing Section 28 to equalising the age of consent and allowing civil partnerships for same-sex couples. (If there were awards for lobbying organisations, then surely Stonewall should be the all-time winner.) Even the courts have new instructions. No longer should they use the word “homosexual”, which can sound harsh, but the preferred LGBT – lesbian, gay, bisexual, transsexual.

It all adds up to a new climate, one where the greatest danger seems to be, to use that most tired of cliches, political correctness gone mad. And then came Saturday.

The murder of Jody Dobrowski is a reminder that anti-gay violence is more than a memory – and that London is far from immune. It would be tempting to think his death was a one-off, as exceptional as the 1999 bombing of the mainly-gay Admiral Duncan pub in Soho, which left three people dead and more than 80 injured.

In fact, figures released last year showed a 10 per cent rise in homophobic attacks in the capital – including both verbal and physical abuse - from 1,365 in 2002 to 1,536 in 2003. Since then, according to Ben Summerskill of Stonewall, homophobic crime has risen by another 8.5 per cent – most of it physical violence rather than mere name-calling. That trend is all the more striking when one sees that racist attacks in London are actually on the decrease.

Nor is this behaviour confined to the hard-core of gay-bashing thugs. Parents report that “gay” has become a term of aggressive abuse in the playground – with no irony about it. Gay couples say there are places where they fear giving each other even the slightest touch, lest they arouse unwanted and hostile attention. In some areas, Summerskill told the Guardian this week, gays are becoming “socially withdrawn, a social category rather like old people, who prefer not to go out at night out of fear of violence.” Others are wondering whether the whole notion of cruising areas, like Clapham Common, is becoming just too dangerous.

This is an important corrective to some of the complacency that can settle on a city like London. There is no doubt we have taken huge strides, with tolerance and openness replacing what was once official fear and suspicion. But that job is only ever a work in progress; it is never completely done. If we want a memorial to Jody Dobrowksi, remembering that fact may be a fitting one.

Posted on October 20, 2005 08:06 PM

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