(The Croatian version of this article ran in today's Jutarnji List, Croatia's largest daily newspaper.)
An Expat in Zagreb
By Roger Malone
The marriage referendum set for Dec. 1 offers Croatia another chance to shoot itself in the foot.
Granted, it’s not surprising that some people feel somehow threatened by the overt proximity of different individual identities. More than 700,000 people have signed a petition to force a referendum on whether to include a conservative definition of marriage in the country’s constitution, effectively banning gay marriages. Armchair psychologists might theorize this implies a lack of confidence in the institution of heterosexual marriage, since it suggests that acknowledging alternatives could lead to nothing but irresistible temptation.
An Expat in Zagreb
By Roger Malone
The marriage referendum set for Dec. 1 offers Croatia another chance to shoot itself in the foot.
Granted, it’s not surprising that some people feel somehow threatened by the overt proximity of different individual identities. More than 700,000 people have signed a petition to force a referendum on whether to include a conservative definition of marriage in the country’s constitution, effectively banning gay marriages. Armchair psychologists might theorize this implies a lack of confidence in the institution of heterosexual marriage, since it suggests that acknowledging alternatives could lead to nothing but irresistible temptation.
Personally, I’m close friends with several gay couples and
even attended the wedding of one pair without any jolts to my sexuality or
values. This is just anecdotal evidence, of course, and could be the exception
to the rule. Perhaps I’m just strong willed.
What is surprising, though, is how easy the Croatian
Constitution can be changed, opening the door for single-issue juggernauts like
the conservative In The Name of the Family group that’s pushing its definition
of marriage. A constitutional referendum in Croatia must be called if about
450,000 people sign a petition. That’s a significant threshold, but well within reach for
hot-button issues backed by an organization like the Catholic Church. The referendum itself needs just a simple majority of participating
voters to pass. If turnout is low, a small fraction of Croatian voters can
change the constitution.
(Some friends have suggested they might boycott the
referendum in protest. Such a strategy just makes it easier for the anti-gay
bloc to win: the lower the turnout, the fewer votes they need to win a simple
majority.)
In the US, as a counter example, a constitutional change
requires a two-thirds majority of both houses of Congress and approval by
three-quarters of the states. It’s a complicated process, and it didn’t prevent
Prohibition, a disastrous decision to ban alcohol in 1919 until it was repealed
in 1933. On the other hand, it proved insurmountable for sensible efforts like
the Equal Rights Amendment, which would have put men and women on an unquestionable
equal standing before the law. But, by and large, it has served the country
well.
National constitutions should essentially be statements of
basic rights and an outline of the organization and operations of government.
The Croatian Constitution throws in a brief history lesson, but generally
follows this pattern. It includes many declarations of rights that seem to
contradict a narrow definition of marriage that would exclude a segment of the
population. Human rights groups have already said they would try to block the
referendum in the constitutional court.
If constitutional change in Croatia is indeed up for grabs,
issues trivial and profound could be put on the table. Anyone for a referendum
making wine chateau the national dessert? Or one that taxes dog ownership? How
about one barring ethnic minorities or some other group from public office or
public jobs? The potential for abuse is troublesome.
The particular question facing Croatia Dec. 1 is both
homophobic and ridiculous in that it’s based on an imaginary threat. It should be defeated purely on the grounds of human rights and equality. But beyond the
obvious moral considerations, economics also speak against approving the
change.
The Gay European Tourism Association estimates that European
gays spend 50 billion euros on tourism in Europe each year, and gay Americans
traveling to Europe add billions more. Assuming gay travel parallels travel
trends generally, such levels likely represent about a billion euros in tourism
receipts for Croatia. Can a country that depends so heavily on tourism afford
to alienate such a large market segment? Notice that with the 2014 Winter
Olympics around the corner, Russia is facing a public relations nightmare after
it enacted anti-gay laws this past summer.
Croatian President Ivo Josipovic has asked, “The question
is: Do we need this kind of a referendum? I think that determining marriage
between a man and a woman does not belong in the constitution. A nation is
judged by its attitude toward minorities.”
With untold billions of kunas being stolen from Croatia
through corruption and tax avoidance, a public debt burden that is growing and
could become unbearable within a year, and youth unemployment rates that are scary,
worrying about whether what Ivan and Josip have going can be called a marriage
should be low of the list of national priorities. Even in good times, it
shouldn’t even make the list.
Within hours of the Sabor vote, headlines about the
referendum circled the globe from Washington to Singapore. The last time
Croatia got this kind of international attention outside sports was when it
battled Brussels over the European Arrest Warrant. It would be great if the next
time the world’s attention turned to Croatia it would be to report that the
country reaffirmed its commitment to human rights for everyone.
[Follow Roger Malone on twitter at @ExpatinZagreb
or at http://expatinzagreb.blogspot.com/]