GAY REPUBLICANS
DRAW THE BATTLE
LINES — AGAINST
EACH OTHER
BY LILA SHAPIRO • ILLUSTRATION BY EDEL RODRIGUEZ • PHOTOGRAPHS BY ROBERT SNOW
THE NIGHT BEFORE the Republican National Convention began in
Tampa last month,
a group of gay Republicans sipped
wine and ate crab cakes at the
Rusty Pelican, a white-tablecloth
establishment with massive fireplaces and sweeping bay views.
Defying the widespread perception that the Republican party
is more actively opposed to gay
rights than ever, R. Clarke Cooper, the 41-year-old director of the
Log Cabin Republicans, told the
gathering that gays are not just an
“insular group in the party, we’re
an integral part of the party.”
Like other fetes around town that
week, the reception was dominated by clean-cut white men
who looked like consultants with
practiced golf swings. Women and
minorities were as rare a sight as
unpleated pants.
Log Cabin, a Republican fixture since the late 70s, defines
its mission as building a “stronger, more inclusive Republican