smusical:
Israeli army Maj. Yoni Schoenfeld, right, listens to his partner, Noam, during an interview with the Associated Press in Tel Aviv, Israel.
Asking and Telling In Israel
… And so, oddly enough, it was my military service that helped me make sense of my sexual orientation. By the time I became a young officer, I’d come out of the closet to my family and friends and had a steady partner. I did not pin a gay-pride flag on my duffel bag or hang one at my base; I don’t think that would have been appropriate in the military, given the diversity of opinions and beliefs. But I never lied about my preferences, and by the time I became a senior officer in an elite unit, most of my fellow officers knew my story. Yes, I was a gay officer in a special-forces unit—and a damn good one, at that.
As Israelis, we are taught from a young age to admire the United States. The American dream offers an alternative to the somewhat harsh reality of life in the Middle East. But that dream has been betrayed by the “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy that governs gay and lesbian service in the U.S. military. Repealing it will help America fall in line with what many other countries have already accepted—that, in the 21st century, sexual preferences should not be a matter of shame or secrecy, not even in the military. The thought of living a lie while serving—of not being able to share one’s personal life with fellow fighters and commanders—is hard to bear. (And it’s ridiculous: if Israel, a nation that is forever on high alert, can defend itself just fine with open homosexuals in its defense forces, then any other nation’s army should also be able to integrate.)
I was lucky—I had the distinction of serving under a two-star general with an extremely open mind. To him, my sexual orientation was never an issue. He believed that work and personal life are separate matters. In this environment, I felt comfortable bringing my partner to various events. And just as before, the other members of my unit, in general, reacted positively.
More recently I have served the Israel Defense Forces as editor in chief of its weekly magazine, Bamachane. Less than a decade ago, before my tenure began, the magazine caused a public outcry when it put a photo on the cover of an out-of-the-closet officer waving a gay-pride flag. The military responded by suspending publication for a few weeks; the establishment didn’t think the image was becoming of someone high-ranking. But last June, during Israel’s gay-pride week, the IDF asked me to appear in front of foreign reporters and share my story—a sign of even further cultural acceptance of gays in the military since the early ’90s. That week, for our main feature, we profiled a gay officer named Josh who wed his partner in Canada (gay marriage is not yet legal in Israel). In the piece, we wrote about a recent promotion he’d received. His new rank was bestowed on him with his Orthodox commander on one side, and his partner, Lior, on the other.”
Schoenfeld, A Major, Has More than 16 Years of Combat Service.
Source.
(In Israel, all citizens are required to serve a certain number of years in the military.)
As an American, I generally dislike the military, but I am going to be so glad when dadt is repealed. With dadt gone, it will be possible for military culture to become more tolerant, although I’m pretty sure social activism is frowned upon within militaries. But people just knowing LGBTQ-identified people is an important factor in getting rid of homophobia (and transphobia? I have no clue how the U.S. dadt-repealed military will respond to transgender-identified people.)