From the Washington Post
With O'Malley, Flip-Flops and Twisting Tongues
by Marc Fisher
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Mayor Martin O'Malley had a principled position on slots. Legalized gambling
might work to buck up Maryland's ailing horse industry, but slots, he said
in 2005, are "a pretty morally bankrupt way" to fund education.
Now, Gov. Martin O'Malley proposes to open slots palaces across the state to
generate hundreds of millions of dollars for, um, education.
A change of heart? Not really, the governor tells me: "I just don't see how
I can ask the legislators to compromise if I'm not willing to do so myself."
As mayor of Baltimore, O'Malley had a principled position on gay marriage.
It's "something I strongly believe in," he wrote to a constituent in 2004.
In a TV interview that year, he said: "Churches will certainly have
different views. And that certainly is their right, and no one should
infringe on that. But... I'm not opposed to civil marriages."
Now, as governor, O'Malley opposes gay marriage and instead supports civil
unions. After last week's state Court of Appeals ruling rejecting gay
marriage, O'Malley said that "as we move forward, those of us with the
responsibility of passing and enforcing laws have an obligation to protect
the rights of all individuals equally, without telling any faith how to
define its sacraments."
Another flip-flop? No, O'Malley tells me. "There are people who prefer that
people in public life use the word 'marriage,' but I do try to use the term
'civil unions.'"
But those are not synonyms, I reply. Doesn't the fact that you used to favor
civil marriage and now speak only of civil unions represent a new position?
"That might be some evolution," the governor allows.
Okay, so a politician flip-flops on two sensitive issues. Wake me when you
have some real news, right?
Except that O'Malley, more than almost any other politician these days, rose
to power on his soaring rhetoric about government's obligations to the poor
and others who have been left out. In an age when pols speak mostly in
pre-masticated, focus-grouped slogans, O'Malley delivers elegant paragraphs
laced with poetry and Scripture. He is, almost uniquely in elective
politics, a man of the word.
So when those words turn out to be slippery, it matters more than with the
other guys. Yes, O'Malley is held to a higher standard, unfair as that might
be.
It matters that candidate O'Malley ripped then-Gov. Bob Ehrlich over the
same slots prescription that Gov. O'Malley now endorses: Ehrlich, he said on
the campaign trail, "wants a slot in every pot and a slot in every garage. I
think slot machines should be used only to pay workers with jobs involved
with racing."
Now, O'Malley says slots should prop up the failing horse industry, balance
the budget and pay for schools and colleges.
The difference, he says, is that his Republican predecessor tried to sell
slots as a silver bullet in lieu of tax increases, whereas the Democrat uses
slots "as one component of a plan that calls for all of us to pay more in
taxes."
When Lisa Polyak, a plaintiff in the gay marriage test case, heard Mayor
O'Malley spell out his support for the concept at a meeting in 2004, she
spelled out the differences between marriage and civil union and asked if he
could really commit to marriage.
'Yeah, I think I can do that,'" he replied, Polyak says.
She then wrote to the mayor to get his position on paper. O'Malley came back
with an e-mail: "I'm just supporting something I strongly believe in." Again
in 2005, O'Malley wrote Polyak, assuring her that "I do stand by my earlier
comments."
Now that he has changed gears, "I find him in this instance to be just
completely dishonest," says Polyak, who supported O'Malley for governor.
"His flowery language notwithstanding, we tend to invest heavily in anyone
who supports us at all. But when we have a sense that on a personal level, a
politician really does get it, and then they set that aside as a political
calculation, that's a heartbreaking thing."
The governor says: "I certainly understand the hurt and anger and outrage
that many people" -- O'Malley studiously avoids the word "gay" -- "feel
after the Court of Appeals decision, and that anger may be directed to
public officials. But I'm open and willing to work with people of good faith
to find a way toward equal protection under the law."
The official line in Annapolis is that O'Malley never meant to endorse
"civil marriage," that by that phrase, he meant civil unions. "When he said
that, the language was still evolving," says spokesman Rick Abbruzzese.
"It's not like civil marriage is a term people use all the time."
Abbruzzese says O'Malley will push for civil unions and notes that lawmakers
will consider a bill in January sponsored by Dels. Victor Ramirez (D-Prince
George's) and Ben Barnes (D-Anne Arundel). But that bill proposes to
legalize gay marriage, not civil unions. And Barnes says "it's important to
call it civil marriage because it includes language assuring that no clergy
will be required to perform anything that may be against the tenets of their
religion."
Would that assurance take care of O'Malley's concern about not offending
citizens whose religion rejects same-sex marriage? "It probably does," the
governor says, and then he repeats that he favors civil unions.
Bottom line: Words matter, especially for a politician who's built his
career on his ability to inspire.
"Believe," said the billboards Mayor O'Malley erected in Baltimore to
instill hope in a dying city.
It'd be a shame if voters watching Gov. O'Malley had to conclude that they
just don't know what to believe.