Gay philanthropist continues to seek ambassadorship
POSTED AT: MONDAY, MARCH 22, 1999 11:49 PST
by Jean H Lee Associated Press Writer
SAN FRANCISCO (AP)—James Hormel has all the makings of a distinguished U.S. ambassador: a law degree, diplomatic experience, a pedigree and a reputation as one of San Francisco's most generous philanthropists.
But there is one catch to Hormel's nomination as ambassador to Luxembourg: he's gay.
Hormel, 66, would become the country's first openly gay ambassador—if his nomination, submitted by President Clinton a second time, ever makes it out of committee.
Christian conservatives have fiercely opposed Hormel's nomination, calling him a radical activist with a gay rights agenda. Last year, even though the Senate Foreign Relations Committee approved the nomination, several conservative Republican lawmakers, with help from Senate Majority Leader Trent Lott, stalled a full Senate vote.
Clinton started anew this year, resubmitting the nomination to the Senate. The Foreign Relations Committee has not scheduled hearings.
"The only reason they oppose him is because some of those on the extreme right have asked that a gay person not be allowed to serve as ambassador of this country," says Richard Socarides, a White House aide. "It's simply base discrimination."
If the nomination fails this year to reach the floor, Clinton could always appoint Hormel during a recess. The next one falls at Easter.
Hormel's supporters—some who have pushed for a recess appointment—say he is eminently qualified to serve as ambassador. A trained lawyer and a onetime law school dean, Hormel has served on several boards of directors and twice was named to U.S. delegations to the United Nations before being proposed as envoy to tiny Luxembourg, population 425,000.
"I hardly view myself as a 'radical,"' he wrote to Sen. Gordon Smith, R-Ore.
Friends add that he is charming and funny, a good listener and conversationalist who is a consummate host.
"He's very bright, he's very good with people. He has a real sense of foreign relations, always has," says Alice Turner, who was married to Hormel for 10 years. "He is extraordinarily well-qualified—overqualified—for this appointment."
His nomination cleared the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in 1997 and secured bipartisan Senate support. Luxembourg, which is 97 percent Catholic, said it would welcome Hormel as ambassador.
Then, Christian conservatives got wind of Hormel's nomination.
"This is a man who uses his incredible financial resources to promote the homosexual agenda. He's funding homosexual marriage, homosexuals in the military," says Andrea Sheldon, executive director of the Traditional Values Coalition. "He does not represent—he does not embody—the standard of most Americans, and he will be going overseas and representing America."
At the center of the controversy: a cozy alcove in the San Francisco Main Public Library that bears Hormel's name.
Several years ago, Hormel gave the library $500,000. In gratitude, the library named its gay and lesbian collection after him. He was touched, friends say.
Among items are the papers of Harvey Milk and Randy Shilts, rare film footage and pulp paperbacks. But researchers can also request to see materials from such controversial groups as the North American Man Boy Love Association, accused of advocating pedophilia.
"It's extremely offensive, and that's in a library named for him," says Steven Schwalm of the Family Research Council.
Hormel's opponents are also incensed that he refuses to condemn the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, men who dress in drag as nuns. TV footage once showed him laughing—friends say in reaction to a broadcaster's comments—as the Sisters strode past during a San Francisco parade.
That angered William Donohue, president of the Catholic League for Religious and Civil Rights, who urged senators to oppose Hormel.
"Any person who cannot find it within himself to quickly and decisively break with those who engage in religious bigotry has no legitimate role to play in representing the U.S.," he said last year. "That would be like sending Louis Farrakhan to Israel or David Duke to Kenya."
And Hormel's critics cite his financial contribution to an educational video about homosexuality.
"If he was a homosexual and wasn't making an issue out of it, how would anybody know?" Schwalm says. "But he's aggressively promoting homosexuality in every venue."
Hormel has vowed not to promote a gay rights agenda as ambassador. But three Republican senators—Tim Hutchinson of Arkansas, Jim Inhofe of Oklahoma and Bob Smith of New Hampshire—publicly put holds on Hormel's nomination to prevent a roll call. Others did so anonymously.
"This is not a tolerance issue," Smith said last year. "This is a matter of advocacy of the gay lifestyle."
Majority Leader Trent Lott, who last summer compared homosexuality to vices such as kleptomania and sex addiction, refused to schedule a floor vote. Hormel's nomination languished, despite pleas by 42 senators.
"It was quite frustrating. On one hand, you have these anti-gay senators saying we don't need legislation to protect gays and lesbians but you have the United States Senate discriminating against someone because he's gay," says David Smith of the Human Rights Campaign. "It was very un-American and unfair."
The attacks so angered his ex-wife that she wrote Lott: "This is a good man. Give him a chance."
She speaks warmly of the man she has known for more than 45 years since they were college sweethearts. They remain friends, and Hormel often invites his ex-wife and her current husband to his San Francisco home.
Together, the Hormels raised four daughters and a son. But after a decade of marriage, she sought a divorce.
"Then he was free to come out and be who he was," Dr. Turner said by phone from her Virginia home. "He didn't choose to be gay. He was trying so hard to be somebody he wasn't."
James Catherwood Hormel, heir to the Hormel Meat. Co. fortune, grew up privileged in Austin, Minn., among chauffeurs and bodyguards. He has described his childhood as "lonely, and very isolated."
He has spoken of seeing no gay role models while struggling with his sexuality, even after seeking books about homosexuality while in law school.
"Being a very conventional sort of adolescent who was concerned about what people thought of him, I did everything I could to suppress those feelings," he told the San Francisco Chronicle in 1997.
After coming out and moving to San Francisco in the mid-70s, Hormel launched his career as a patron for social justice. He helped create the Human Rights Campaign, now the nation's largest gay rights group, and began giving away a quarter of his yearly income.
Hormel, who cannot grant interviews while his nomination is pending, has described himself as "part elder statesman for a constituency that is still in its adolescence in terms of experiencing its wisdom and empowerment.
"I can be a resource for that constituency to grow and develop," he told the San Francisco Examiner in 1996. "I am especially curious about why we seem to work so hard to create class, status and other devices that separate and exclude."
Hormel has been generous to AIDS and civil rights groups, and to arts and education. In recent years he also has supported two B0057049 issues close to his heart: breast cancer and autism. His mother suffered from breast cancer and four of his grandchildren are autistic.
Far from being a radical activist, Hormel is a devoted family man—to his partner, Timothy Wu, and to his children and 13 grandchildren, friends say.
"My father has better family values than most parents I know. He is very dedicated to his family," says James Hormel Jr., who moved to San Francisco . "Our family is different, yes, but it is extremely strong. We love each other very much."
Friends describe Hormel as frustrated but gracious, conceding that his detractors have the right to say what they wish.
"He is the true definition of a gentleman," says San Francisco Supervisor Mark Leno. A tidal wave of support and a conviction that he is qualified for the position has kept Hormel from backing down, he says.
"He's not a hypocrite," his son says. "This is part of who my father is and what he's instilled in us: You stick up for what you believe in—even if it doesn't look good or isn't the popular thing to do."