News & Politics  
comments_image Comments

Men's Health Cover Flashing GOP Congressman's Tight Abs Reveals How Conservatives Worship a Cartoonish Hyper-Masculinity

Republicans fear that if they aren't constantly shoring up masculinity and attacking the feminine, they might grow soft. This has dangerous effects.

At first, the June cover of Men's Health seems par for the course for a magazine that aims to stoke male anxieties about physical perfection to sell products to men the same way that the beauty industry has done to women for decades: a half-naked man in ridiculously good shape, staring at the camera with eyes that dare you to look with awe, envy, and not just a little sexual interest. But if you look at the headline, the image becomes shocking. The man with the sort of abs that The Situation would kill for isn't just some male model or athlete, but a Republican congressman from Illinois, Aaron Schock.

It's a choice that suggests that the congressman intends to live up to his name. It seems incongruous for him to pose half-naked – not just because of his office, but because of his track record as an outspoken opponent of gay rights and an enemy of sexual liberation who voted to defund Planned Parenthood. Schock is constantly beating back Beltway rumours that he's gay that spring up every time he shows up half-naked in public or wears turquoise belts with white jeans, a situation that would cause most people to rethink behaving in ways commonly associated with homoeroticism in public spaces.

But that's because we don't hail from rightwing America. For most Americans, there's a tipping point where preening displays of masculinity get so overt and stereotypical that they stop being intimidating and/or boorish and move into the territory of erotically charged camp. In 2011, most Americans get that the members of the Village People were not actually policemen and construction workers. Unfortunately, though, since that announcement wasn't made on "The 700 Club" with Pat Robertson, this kind of basic knowledge hasn't filtered into many corners of conservative America. The results have been embarrassing, such as when early Tea Party activists started calling themselves "teabaggers" – completely unaware that the word was slang for men who enjoy sucking on other men's testicles.

In many irony-devoid rightwing circles, there is no such thing as too outlandish a display of masculinity, and the very idea that such a thing might invite a gaze that sexualises – and therefore feminises – the peacocking man seems to have passed notice. There's an almost touching earnestness to rightwing enthusiasms for big trucks, uniforms and hot, muscular naked men showing off their manly powers.

Or it would be touching if this unquestioned enthusiasm for virility didn't have a darkness to it.

Unfortunately, the right's obsession with masculinity, and the fear that if they aren't constantly shoring it up and attacking the feminine, they might grow soft, has very real effects. Many, maybe most of America's problems go back to this manlier-than-thou attitude on the right. Wars are started. Women's basic human rights are denied. Gays are bashed. The main slurs against Democrats are about how they're feminine, childish or weak for doing things like thinking through important decisions before making them or caring about the environment. Even fights over the budget become masculinity displays, with Paul Ryan casting people who use the social safety net living "lives of complacency and dependency" – all the while, portraying himself as a tough guy with his own hefty workout routine.

Take one of the more amusing-but-horrifying examples of unironic, unself-aware masculinity worship on the right, captured by Right Wing Watch. Christian right ministers and activists Tony Perkins, Rick Joyner, Jerry Boykin, and Frank Turek put out a video where they likened themselves to the ancient Spartans beating off the Persians (in the military sense, not in the probably-going-to-be-double-entrendre-in-Lady-Gaga-lyrics-soon sense). They then announced a coalition of Christian activists called "300", after the recent comic book film that took heavy liberties with actual history, but had enough muscular man-flesh to fill the fantasy life for years of a thoroughly Christian, totally heterosexual rightwing activist. In our eyes, they may be sweater-wearing, soft-handed men who spend most of the day in leather chairs, but under that exterior beats the heart of ancient Greek men who favour hard grounds and camaraderie with other half-dressed naked warriors.

See more stories tagged with: