‘Miss Saigon’: Better Late Than Never

Filipino actor Jon Jon Briones as the Engineer in the 2014 London revival of ‘Miss Saigon’

This is kind of a big deal for me. 

I think that one of the major artistic issues of the last quarter-century or so was Broadway’s casting controversy over the musical Miss Saigon in 1990.  The event has now faded into the nether reaches of time and memory, but it’s something that’s been sticking in my craw ever since. 

Most of you are probably familiar with the title Miss Saigon, the sung-through musical, adapted from Madame Butterfly by tunesmith Claude-Michel Schönberg and lyricist Alain Boubil, the French team behind the wildly popular musical staging of Les Misérables.  Under the producership of Cameron Mackintosh (who also produced Les Miz, Cats, and Phantom of the Opera, among other shows), Miss Saigon premiered on London’s West End in 1989 with Welsh actor Jonathan Pryce in the lead male role of the Engineer, a pimp who runs the brothel in war-torn 1970s Vietnam that indentured the young prostitute title character, Kim.  (This was after a worldwide search to find a specifically Asian actress to play Kim, finally finding Lea Salonga in the Philippines.)  The logic of the musical’s plot calls for the Engineer to be a Vietnamese national, but a white actor was cast in the role, the creative team said, because the character was “Eurasian.”  However, nowhere in Miss Saigon’s original lyrics (since revised) is the character’s European heritage mentioned, nor is such a heritage germane to the story.  Ostensibly, the Engineer was a full-blooded Vietnamese who was labeled “Eurasian” merely to accommodate a white actor in the role.  And Pryce opened the role of the Engineer in the West End wearing eye prosthetics to give his eyelids an epicanthic fold.  In 1990, the year after its London premiere, Mackintosh announced that he planned to bring Miss Saigon to Broadway the following year and to have Pryce reprise his role as the Engineer in New York. 

In 1990, I was friends with a number of Asian American actors, and I would often hear stories of their struggles about being racial minorities working for an industry whose primary goal was to attract the majority white audience.  This meant that not very many roles were written for ethnically Asian performers, and if a role wasn’t written specifically as a character of color, I was told, minority actors would seldom be considered for it.  This meant that my Asian American thespian friends didn’t work all that often, and they needed to support their acting careers with day jobs.  Complicating this was the practice of “yellowface,” which is the derogatory nickname for applying cosmetics (of any color) to white actors in order for them to play Asian roles.  So, in 1990, the playing field was decidedly tilted: Caucasian actors — not only because of their talent, but also because of their race — had many opportunities in the entertainment industry, but Asian American actors had few.  Also, the industry, through the practice of “yellowface,” enabled white actors to play Asian characters without a commensurate practice to enable Asian actors to play white characters. 

When it opened in 1991, Miss Saigon boasted Broadway’s first Asian male lead (non-supporting) role in 15 years, since the Stephen Sondheim musical Pacific Overture in 1976.  In all that time, Asian American actors were — for all intents and purposes — “racially disqualified” from playing male leads on the Great White Way.  Miss Saigon’s Engineer would have been a great opportunity for an ethnically Asian actor to open a lead role on Broadway, but with Mackintosh’s announcement that Pryce would re-create the character in New York, that rare possibility was whisked away. 

Jonathan Pryce, wearing eye prosthetics, in the original 1989 London production of ‘Miss Saigon’

Because Pryce was a British national, Mackintosh had to apply for an H-1B visa (a visa which means that no one else can do the job) for him to appear on Broadway, an application that needed to be approved by the American performers’ union, Actors’ Equity, to go forward.  Advocates of Pryce’s participation in the production called it an example of “non-traditional casting” (see below).  The Asian American actors and their supporters complained to Equity that Broadway’s first Asian male lead in 15 years was automatically going to an actor without any racial constraints on his career and that no Asian actors had been seriously considered for the part.  After some discussion, Actors’ Equity denied Pryce’s application for an H-1B visa, issuing a press release to explain their position:

Today [August 8, 1990], the Council of Actors’ Equity resumed its deliberation regarding the proposed casting of Jonathan Pryce in the Broadway production of Miss Saigon.  After a long and emotional debate, the Council has decided it cannot appear to condone the casting of a Caucasian actor in the role of a Eurasian and has therefore voted to reject the producer’s application to permit Mr. Pryce, who originated the role of the Engineer in London, to recreate his performance in the American production.  

Equity’s decision is in no way meant to reflect on Mr. Pryce, whose excellence the Union, once again, acknowledges.  

The question of Mr. Pryce’s appearance at [sic] the Engineer has prompted a long-overdue public debate over the issues of non-traditional casting and the lack of job opportunities for ethnic minority actors, in this instance, those in the Asian community.  

Actors’ Equity was created by actors to protect the actor and improve employment conditions.  When Equity membership believes that they are in some way being humiliated or ignored, the Union is bound to investigate the claim and respond.  The casting of a Caucasian actor made up to appear Asian is an affront to the Asian community.  This casting choice is especially disturbing when the casting of an Asian actor, in this role, would be an important and significant opportunity to break the usual pattern of casting Asians in minor roles.  

The Asian community of American Equity actors has strongly supported the Union’s condemnation of the proposed casting of the Engineer in Miss Saigon and has urged the Union to reject this application, in full awareness that many jobs may be lost to actors of Asian background if the production is cancelled.  

For years, ethnic actors were denied access to roles that were not expressly written for the ethnic performer.  To put it another way, ethnic actors were largely excluded from working in the theatre.  In response, Actors’ Equity has vigorously advocated the creation of equal casting opportunities for its minority members.  Equity originated the use of the term “non-traditional casting” as an avenue of increasing employment for minority actors.  This policy is defined as the casting of ethnic actors in roles where race or gender is not germane to the character.  Non-traditional casting was never intended to be used to diminish opportunities for ethnic actors to play ethnic roles.  The contract agreed to by Equity and the League of American Theaters and Producers provides that all parties agree “to continue their joint efforts toward, and reaffirm their commitment to the policy of non-discrimination, and to an on-going policy of furthering the principles of equal employment opportunity.  It is the desire of the parties that employment opportunities for Equity’s multi-racial membership be improved, and that the stage reflect a multi-racial society” (emphasis added).  [Emphasis and parentheses in original.]

The producer, Cameron Mackintosh[,] was quoted in the Sunday Times of London as stating that “I subscribe to the view that acting roles should be played by the best person and that colour of skin has got nothing to do with it.”  The casting of Mr. Pryce would not be so objectionable if Mr. Mackintosh was also willing to apply this standard elsewhere and cast visibly ethnic actors in the numerous productions of Les Misérables which have created nearly 400 jobs for Equity actors.  Instead, Mr. Mackintosh and the producers of other shows have insisted all too often that the text of a play does not allow the casting of ethnic actors and have consistently refused to consider the talent of minority members for employment.  

The “exhaustive search” for an Asian actor to play the role of the Engineer has been much publicized, but, as Geoffrey Johnson, of Johnson, Liff, and Zerman, and one of the casting directors for Miss Saigon has stated, the search was centered on casting the character of Kim, the young Asian girl in the production.  No actor but Mr. Pryce was seriously considered for [the role of the Engineer].  In fact, one leading Asian-American actor who was mentioned to play the Engineer reports that his representative returned a call he received but was never contacted again.  [I understand that the Asian American actor in question was John Lone, who had recently starred in the Oscar-winning The Last Emperor.]  Further, it has been claimed that no Asian actors have had experience in starring roles and they cannot carry the weight of a Broadway play.  This becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy [sic] unless and until this cycle of casting is broken.  

The assertion that Equity’s refusal to condone the casting of Mr. Pryce reflects an anti-British bias is without foundation.  During the last three years alone, Equity has admitted more than 160 British actors as stars, as “actors providing unique services,” as members of unit companies and as part of the exchange under the reciprocal agreement between Equity and British Equity.  

The Council’s decision in this matter has been a most difficult one.  But Equity must continue to affirm, indeed press, its policy of non-traditional casting and to object whenever it, as here, is exploited.  To allow Miss Saigon to appear as cast without a strong expression of Equity’s displeasure would be a betrayal of those producers and directors and casting directors who have made every effort to encourage and enlarge the Asian talent pool by casting Asian parts Asian as well as casting other roles non-traditionally with Asian actors.  

Equity and its membership are well aware of the threat that we comply with the demand [to approve Pryce’s casting] or we will be punished by the loss of jobs.  

Finally and once again, Equity states that the producer retains the right to bring this matter to arbitration.  Should Mr. Mackintosh refuse to avail himself of this contractually prescribed remedy and cancel or postpone this production of Miss Saigon, lost employment and lost revenues are ultimately his responsibility.  

Equity has vigorously and consistently raised the issue of opening up the casting of numerous Broadway productions in order to break down the barriers facing minority actors.  Indeed right now Equity has tried to schedule a meeting to review the casting practices of not only Les Misérables, but other plays in which the lack of ethnic actors is dramatically evident.  

Equity invites the press to take an in-depth look at ethnic casting in the American theater instead of sensationalizing one example.  

The debate should not end with this decision.  (quoted in Theater Week, IV, 2, August 20, 1990, pp. 17-19)

Mackintosh had clashed with Actors’ Equity a number of times over the years over other issues, so he might have seen the union’s decision as more of a power play than as a principled position.  Although he had the option, as the press release states, to take Equity’s decision to arbitration, Mackintosh instead indignantly announced the cancellation of Miss Saigon’s Broadway production, saying that Equity had denied Jonathan Pryce a job “because of his race.” 

For all of the ink that Equity spilled writing the announcement of its decision, it didn’t do very much good, because I doubt that very many people read it.  After Mackintosh announced his decision to cancel Miss Saigon’s Broadway production, most mainstream news outlets castigated the union’s decision.  Much discussion abounded that the theatre was a place of make-believe, where actors play people other than themselves, and therefore Equity’s decision was unreasonable.  Some misrepresented the union’s position as calling for ethnically specific casting, as though Equity were declaring that only Danish actors could play Hamlet, say, or only Greek actresses could play Medea.  But racial discrimination against Asian American actors in hiring received extremely little attention.  This somewhat sarcastic opinion piece written for Time magazine by Japan-based Indian-British journalist Pico Iyer (who I think ought to have known better) captures the tenor of discussion at the time:

[Equity’ was] raising some highly intriguing questions.  How can John Gielgud play Prospero when Doug Henning is at hand?  Should future Shakespeares — even future August Wilsons — stock their plays with middle-class whites so as to have the largest pool of actors from which to choose?  And the next time we stage Moby Dick, will there be cries that the title part be taken by a card-carrying leviathan?

What is the title of Iyer’s essay?  “The Masks of Minority Terrorism.”  Yes, Iyer calls those struggling for racial equality “terrorists.”  I’m sure that Asian American actors will be flying airplanes into skyscrapers any day now. 

I was very dismayed that racial discrimination against minorities in casting — the motivating issue of the Miss Saigon controversy — was pushed to the background in coverage of the story.  Equity was portrayed as wrong in every regard, and virtually the only mention of Asian American actors in the press was all of the supporting (!) roles that they would lose if Mackintosh’s cancellation of the production weren’t rescinded. 

Producer Cameron Mackintosh in a recent photo

Of course, as the history books now say, Mackintosh prevailed: Equity reversed its veto of Pryce, who opened the role of the Engineer on Broadway without the eye prosthetics that he wore in London.  Also, Pryce won the Tony that year for Best Actor in a musical, perhaps as an apology by the Broadway establishment for that nasty little thing that Equity did.  (The theme of the Tony broadcast of 1991, hosted by Julie Andrews and Jeremy Irons, was the British presence on Broadway, which suggested an attempt to make amends for any perceived anti-British slight on Equity’s part.  If the Tony’s theme that year had instead been the Asian American presence on Broadway, the show would have had a lot less to work with.) 

Despite my dismay over how Miss Saigon’s casting controversy played out (there was another controversy over whether the show’s arguably stereotypical Asian characters were worth playing in the first place), I was glad to see an apparent effort on the part of the entertainment industry to increase minority visibility in the media and to cast Asian roles with ethnically Asian actors.  Even Cameron Mackintosh seemed to accept the core of Equity’s argument: after Pryce stepped down from the role in 1992, his replacements have all been ethnically Asian actors.  Of course, the situation today for minority — and especially Asian — actors is far from perfect, but given the vilification in the media of Equity’s rejection of Pryce, and the constant cries of “reverse discrimination,” I’m surprised that the issue of racial discrimination in casting came to be treated so seriously. 

But also in the intervening years, histories of Broadway and other mainstream chronicles of the past still mention Equity’s veto of Pryce (when they mention it at all) as a mistake, as an example of the union shooting itself in the foot, as a “bluff” called by the intrepid Mackintosh.  So, over last weekend, I was pleased beyond measure when I read this passage in the on-line version of Britain’s Telegraph newspaper, for a story it printed last year on Miss Saigon’s 25th anniversary production on the West End:

As far as Miss Saigon is concerned, Mackintosh believes his biggest mistake was not foreseeing how much of an issue the casting of Jonathan Pryce in the leading Eurasian role of The Engineer would prove in New York. “I said it was a storm in an Oriental tea-cup, thinking I was being clever. I was actually being stupid.” He now accepts that those who argued that the character should be played by an actor of Asian descent had a valid point.

“A valid point.”  That’s what Equity tried to make in 1990 — and was vilified for its troubles.  I don’t think that anyone (including myself) wanted to prevent Jonathan Pryce from appearing in Miss Saigon.  Equity, reports say, was hoping that Mackintosh would take its decision to arbitration, where the issue of racial discrimination in casting could be given a proper hearing before Pryce was approved.  The fact that Mackintosh didn’t take the decision to arbitration — the fact that he stubbornly cancelled the production until Equity changed its position — has long suggested that he saw the union’s veto as utterly without merit.  I’m glad finally to see in black & white, 25 long years after the controversy, that Equity’s and the minority actors’ argument has won.  Better late than never. 

‘The Heat Is On,’ a behind-the-scenes documentary of the original 1989 London production of ‘Miss Saigon’

Steve Earle - ‘Mississippi, It’s Time’

Was the Civil War About Slavery?

A video from Prager University.  If a conservative institution reports that the Civil War was “first and foremost” about slavery — and not something more benign, like states’ rights or differing economies — that piece of information isn’t just a bunch of liberal revisionism.  

just for fun

Early Action Heroine: Liza Belmonte in ‘Beast of Blood’

Liza Belmonte as Laida in ‘Beast of Blood’

I first saw Eddie Romero’s Filipino horror film Beast of Blood (1971) on TV, on a local station’s late-night “Creature Feature,” when I was in high school in the 1970s. The film was lots of fun — if a bit cheesy in places — and it stayed in my memory for 30 years or more. It did so for one reason: the saronged, machete-slashing character of Laida, played by Liza Belmonte. Because the movie inhabited my brain for so long — and was embellished by my imagination as it did — I recently sought it out on DVD. Having now seen Beast of Blood again, I’d like to write something about it. Only I'm not sure if I want to write about the film that actually exists or the film as I remember it.

Although I can recall watching the TV shows Honey West and The Girl from U.N.C.L.E. in the 1960s, I can’t recall any images of female heroism from them. Beast of Blood’s blade-flashing Laida was the first time I remember seeing a woman — and not only a woman but a traditionally garbed denizen of the Pacific Islands — struggling against the bad guys as an equal with the male heroes. She wasn't just a damsel-in-distress allowed a single act of heroic agency (a role filled in Beast of Blood by Celeste Yarnall’s ostensible female lead Myra Russell). Instead, she was a woman warrior who stood shoulder to shoulder with her male comrades and who went into battle as unblinkingly as they did. As a teenager in the mid-1970s, I had never seen a character like this before.

 

Laida springs into action.

I don’t remember if it was because my local TV station had cut out her introductory scene or because I missed the beginning of the movie, but Laida seemed to come out of nowhere in the story. The purported hero of the movie, John Ashley’s Bill Foster, is chasing one of the monsters through the jungle, when Laida steps out from behind the trees and slashes the baddie to bits. “Whoa,” I remember thinking to myself, “where did she come from?” Laida riveted my attention for the rest of the film, as she totally overshadowed both Ashley and Yarnall. By the end of the movie, Laida was the most heroic character, dispatching the majority of the arch-villain Mad Scientist’s henchmen and freeing his prisoners.

Laida gets ready to throw her machete at a henchman.

Bull’s eye!

Now that I've seen Beast of Blood again for the first time in 30 years, I realize just how different my memory of the movie has been from the movie itself. I remembered Laida as being a much more lithe figure, when in fact she’s rather non-athletic. I remembered her dynamically leaping out of the jungle, when in fact her body movement is quite minimal for an action hero. I also remembered her as being more fluent in English, when in fact Liza Belmonte seems to struggle with the language almost as much as Laida struggles with the bad guys. And my mind had also blocked out that stupid floral lei that she wears around her neck in every scene. But the character still held my attention. She still easily outshone the two romantic leads, Ashley and Yarnall. Indeed, I was puzzled that the character was introduced so unceremoniously that the viewer needs to prick up his or her ears in order to ascertain the character’s name: she is called Laida only sparingly in the film (and Belmonte is given an undeserved fourth billing). 

 

Laida helps to free the Mad Scientist’s prisoners.

Needless to say, when I first saw Beast of Blood, the TV station cut out its nudity, thus excising Laida’s unsuccessful seduction of Foster. (In fact, there’s more nudity in Beast of Blood than you would expect from a film rated PG.) This explained a later scene, where Foster tells Laida why he couldn’t make love to her, a scene which seemed to come out of the blue without its censored set-up. But by putting Laida in the role — however momentarily — of Foster’s love interest, Beast of Blood seems to be trying to rein in her hard-to-control female energy, and the scene seems forced. Strangely, Laida isn’t a character in the film to which Beast of Blood is a sequel: 1969’s Mad Doctor of Blood Island.

 

In the movie’s denouement, Laida, Myra, and Foster
watch the Mad Scientist’s fortress burn.

I suppose that unflinching, no-nonsense action heroines like Laida in Beast of Blood have become commonplace by now, from the vampire-slaying Buffy to Uma Thurman’s Bride to super assassin Mrs. Smith: heroines who show off as much butt as they kick. But I hold a special place in my personal pop-culture pantheon for the woman who beat them all to the punch (or at least to the machete slice). And I’m a little bewildered why most Internet commentaries about Beast of Blood give the character such short shrift. In fact, I think it would be a terrific idea to make an action film today with a Laida-like character as its central heroine: a stoic-faced, blade-wielding, sarong-clad, cinnamon-skinned goddess of the jungle. Only this time around, the character could be played by a more athletic actress and given flashier fight choreography. And she wouldn’t need a John Ashley to help her defeat the bad guys.

‘Beast of Blood’s’ virtually Laida-free trailer

Originally published on Amazon.com in 2005.  

Happy Fourth of July, everybody!
Long may she wave!  (The flag, too!)

Thanks to Christi Mills for letting me post her photo.

We Live in Intriguing Times

Art by Bob Englehart of the Hartford Courant

Well, this has been quite a week, so I feel obliged to say something about it. 

FLAGGING SUPPORT FOR A SYMBOL OF DIVISION

First of all, the Confederate battle flag, which once had present-day (white) Southerners falling all over themselves to say how it wasn’t a symbol of racism, has now fallen into disrepute due to white man Dylann Roof’s — I suppose I need to insert the word “alleged” — racially motivated attack on the Emanuel AME church of Charleston, South Carolina, last June 17, killing nine black parishioners. 

Given the fervent support that the battle flag has enjoyed for decades, what is amazing to me is the speed at which many people, including some white Southerners, are calling for the flag’s removal from official grounds throughout the South.  The haste of some Southerners at least to keep the Confederate battle flag at arm’s length, if not to consign it to history, is something that I never thought I’d see in my lifetime.  Many American’s go out of their way to rationalize the Confederate States of America.  About a week ago, I was posting on Facebook, and the topic of Robert E. Lee came up.  A Facebook friend with more conservative views instantly jumped in to say how great Lee’s service to the U.S. army in the antebellum years was, and that is what he should be remembered for. 

Now, I am not the most qualified person to cast judgement on Robert E. Lee’s life.  To my limited knowledge, Lee’s service in the U.S. army in those years before 1861 was one of distinction, and I understand that he, on the whole, led a very honorable life.  But the fact remains that he was also a traitor who took up arms against the United States of America primarily in order to keep a race of people enslaved.  Shouldn’t that be the headline of Lee’s life, rather than how gentlemanly and honorable he was?  The mere fact that I need to ask this question speaks volumes about the United States in the post-Civil War years. 

I spent much of my time growing up in central Virginia.  As a grade-schooler just learning about the Civil War, I remember being struck by the sight of a sunbather at Virginia Beach lying on a stars-and-bars beach towel.  I remember thinking what a casual use that was for the flag of an enemy (one on the wrong side of history) that the U.S. army fought and defeated.  While lying on top of a flag my not be the most respect one can show for it, the fact that the sunbather seemed so accepting of this enemy’s ensign struck me as disregard for the values that the Union victory in the Civil War stood for — keeping the country together and ending slavery in particular.  But since I was just a grade-schooler at the time, I didn’t say anything about it. 

Afterwards, I started noticing the ubiquity of the Confederate battle flag and the esteem in which many seemed to hold it.  As a child, I was especially disquieted by my first ride as a passenger in a car down Richmond’s Monument Avenue.  I rode past towering statues of Confederate historical figures: Robert E. Lee, Jefferson Davis, Stonewall Jackson, and Matthew F. Maury.  It not only struck me as strange that the people of Richmond took such pride in these turncoats, but the grandeur and defiance of these statues communicated the following message: the South didn’t really loose the Civil War.  Monument Avenue filled me with apprehension.  (Since then, a statue of black tennis-player and Richmond native Arthur Ashe has been added, apparently to offset partially the pro-Confederate signal sent by the other sculptures.) 

R.M.T. Hunter (1809-1887)

As I got older, it also became clearer to me that the Southern side of my family also held the Confederacy in somewhat high regard.  Here’s an example: A distant family relative is Robert Mercer Taliaferro Hunter (1809-1887 — the family pronounces “Taliaferro” as “Tolliver”), a lawyer and statesman who built a large farm that my family still uses.  Growing up, I remember a history-buff uncle telling me with a twinkle in his eye how R.M.T. Hunter served as the Confederate Secretary of State.  Only later did I discover that Hunter had also been a statesman for the United States, and at one point, he not only became Speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, but he remains the youngest ever to have held that distinguished position.  But that kind of accomplishment apparently wasn’t worth mentioning, only his involvement with the C.S.A. 

In the decades since, of course, I came to see in what great regard the Confederate battle flag — and, to some degree, the idea of the Confederate States themselves — was held in much of not only the South, but the northern United States as well.  Over the years, I have heard many rationales for people embracing the Confederate flag: it being a symbol of heritage, history, and any kind of against-the-grain rebellion.  But, I thought to myself, shouldn’t the fact that it was a treasonous symbol for perpetuating slavery, going against the founding notion that “all men are created equal,” trump any other kind of meaning the flag might convey?  I gradually got the idea that most people who wave the Confederate flag don’t believe in all people being created equal; it was a way for them implicitly to signal that African Americans are still inherently one-down in this country. 

Perhaps because of the gradualness of my discovery and my family’s warmth (at least in part) to the idea of the Confederacy, I kept my qualms about the battle flag — and other celebrations of the Southern succession, such as Monument Avenue — to myself.  Could I be overreacting to the Confederate flag?  Could the flag be a more benign symbol than my negative visceral reactions to it told me?  Whatever the answer, seeing how widespread the esteem for the flag and for the Confederacy was in Virginia, I didn’t think that there was anything I could say about the subject that would change anyone’s mind. 

After the June 17 shooting of nine black parishioners in their Charleston church by a white gunman, the flags of the United States and South Carolina flew at half-staff.  But the Confederate flag overlooking the Confederate monument within sight of the statehouse flew at full staff, an image truly worth a thousand words.

For a long time, I’ve wanted to ask Confederate flag supporters why it was only this particular symbol of the South, and not another, that could adequately express their pride or heritage or whatever.  Knowing that the Confederate battle flag came into widespread use in the South in the 1940s and ‘50s as a symbol of resistance to racial desegregation, I have a feeling that the answer to my question would ultimately be — regardless of what I would be told — that such flag supporters didn’t truly believe in racial equality. 

Now, many white Southerners are apparently regarding the Confederate battle flag as an undesirable object.  My youthful negative reaction to it appears to be vindicated.  No, taking down the flag won’t magically undo racism — or even the lingering legacy of the Confederacy — in the United Sates.  But it’s a good start.  

ONE PLUS ONE EQUALS... 

The other major event this week was the Supreme Court’s ruling, in Obergefell v. Hodges, that same-sex marriage — or more exactly, marriage equality — is constitutional in all 50 states.  Many who disagree with this 5-4 decision are criticizing it for supposedly stretching the bounds of what is protected by the Constitution.  Others are finding fault with Justice Anthony Kennedy’s flowery language in his majority opinion (I have not read the full text), which goes on at length about how ennobling marriage is.  Although I support marriage equality, I can understand, to an extent, the criticism of Kennedy’s opinion. 

For me, the entire case in favor of marriage equality boils down to one issue.  According to Wikipedia, married couples have access to 1,138 rights that unmarried people don’t have.  If the government allows one segment of its population access to certain rights — such as the absence of inheritance taxes upon the death of a spouse — via marriage to the consenting adult of their choice, but denies those rights to another segment, then the government is relegating that latter segment to second-class status.  And the government shouldn’t be doing that.  That’s it.  Everything else, including any “ennobling” qualities of matrimony, is just embellishment. 

Some have also criticized that the basis of this opinion was not to be found in the Constitution.  But if the Constitution protects those rights and responsibilities for heterosexual spouses, it should protect them for gay couples, too. 

Marriage equality for gay couples and a newfound ignominy for the Confederate battle flag — yes, this has been a very historic week. 



Update, July 11, 2015: My head is spinning.  Yesterday, less than one month after the tragic shooting at Emanuel AME church in Charleston, South Carolina, the Confederate battle flag that flew in view of the statehouse was taken down.  It took a two-thirds vote from both legislative chambers in South Carolina — as well as the signature of Indian American governor Nikki Haley — in order for the flag to be removed (or moved in any way, which is why the Confederate flag wasn’t lowered when the national and state flags flew at half-staff for the shooting victims).  Events have been moving at such a breakneck clip that I’d probably be dizzy even if I didn’t have vertigo.  

I’m glad to see so many people finally agree with me (or finally acknowledge) that the Confederate battle flag is a symbol of treason and racial oppression, and it has no place in or near the official halls of the federal and local governments.  I’m glad that I got to see such impassioned speeches against the flag, such as this one from South Carolina state representative Jenny Horne during the chamber’s debate to take down the flag:



I also think that the Confederate battle flag is a poor choice as a symbol of Southern pride and heritage, as so many Southerners have claimed over the decades.  I believe that if Southerners need a symbol of their pride and their heritage, they should choose one without the treasonous and racist associations of the banner that Robert E. Lee flew in battle.  

In fact, the Confederate flag has fallen into such infamy that it is no longer being shown in other contexts as well.  Most remarkably, the basic-cable rerun channel TV Land has withdrawn episodes of The Dukes of Hazzard from its schedule because the flag is painted on the roof of the show’s featured car, nicknamed “The General Lee.”  I’m not sure if I would go so far as to pull The Dukes of Hazzard from a TV schedule just for showing the Confederate flag (as opposed to, say, pulling it for being a stupid show), but I’m glad that the culture at large now agrees with me and no longer views the flag as a benign symbol.  Others are being pressured to stop displaying the flag as well, such as Kid Rock, who features the flag at some of his concerts.  Whether Kid Rock or any other individual flies or does not fly the Confederate flag as part of their self-expression is their decision to make.  What’s important is for the flag to stop being flown as part of state or federal governmental pomp.  

As I said above, removing the Confederate flag from the halls of government won’t magically make racism disappear, and there are other struggles ahead against racial disparity.  But removing the flag from South Carolina state grounds is a good first step.  Some may say that the Confederate flag is “only” a symbol, but symbols can be powerful.  If the states opposed to desegregation in the 1950s and ’60s thought that the flag was important enough fly in order to express their belief in racial inequality, then the flag’s removal becomes a symbol of racial equality, and that is important, too.