In the 1840s, supporters of Whig presidential candidate William Henry Harrison described incumbent Democratic president Martin Van Buren as "luxury-loving." Boston's pro-Whig Atlas described Van Buren as a "dandy" in "nicely plaited ruffles," who was "leading off a minuet" while Harrison fought the War of 1812. The Harrison slogan "Van Van, you're a used-up man," suggested squandered masculinity—whether on frivolous pursuits or fellow men was left to the imagination. ...I don't believe I had heard of this particular incident from the 1950's before:
The newspapers of the late 1700s were filled with verse mocking bachelors' supposed moral degeneracy. But mentioning a politician's single status didn't necessarily suggest that he slept with men, says historian John Gilbert McCurdy. The implication was slightly more pronounced in the 19th century. When James Buchanan, the only bachelor president in American history, ran for office in 1850, the press alleged that his unmarried status made him an unfit executive. "He had no taste for matrimony, which plainly implies a lack of some essential quality," declared the New York Herald. "If he is elected, he will be the first President who shall carry into the White House, the crude and possibly the gross tastes and experiences of a bachelor." It's not clear to historians whether "gross tastes" meant sodomy or just loose women.
The early 1950s were consumed by not just the Red Scare but what scholar David K. Johnson refers to as the "Lavender Scare." In 1950, the State Department fired 91 "peculiars" solely on the basis of their suspected homosexuality. The Republican Party distributed a letter to thousands of members informing them, "sexual perverts … have infiltrated our government," and were "perhaps as dangerous as the actual Communists." The equation of homosexuality with communist sympathy was a favorite refrain of Joseph McCarthy, who said in a speech he gave in 1950 to the American Society of Newspaper Editors, "Communists and queers … have American people in a hypnotic trance." According to Johnson, amid the fear mongering of the 50s, this correlation seemed plausible to the public. Both communism and homosexuality, Johnson writes, "seemed to comprise hidden subcultures with their own meeting places, cultural codes, and bonds of loyalty."But given the prominence of gay intellectual traitors in Britain at the time, I find it hard to fault other nations' intelligence services for being (at the very least) extremely wary of homosexuality in sensitive work areas at the height of the Cold War.
Lately, Rob Oakeshott has been getting the same masculinity questioning name calling from the likes of the right wing commenters at Catallaxy. (Admittedly, Oakeshott has been behaving in an irritating fashion ever since his "dance of the seven veils" speech when he announced he would support Labor. He is clearly unsuited to be Speaker of the House of Reps.) Yet, on the other side of politics, Labor's (and Gillard's) quite recent "mincing poodle" jibe at Christopher Pyne was equally schoolboy-ish.
Issues of propriety in one's private sex life can have a genuine relevance to political life, and it can be difficult to draw a line. If it had come out while he was Police Minister, for example, that the married David Campbell was secretly frequenting gay saunas, it would have been hard to argue that he wasn't placing himself in an eminently blackmail-able position in a foolishly public way. (If, on the other hand, he was having a very discrete affair with one man - or woman - he would probably just have been following the conduct of numerous other Police Ministers.) The fact that he was in the less sensitive Transport Ministry at the time led to more public sympathy than one might have expected.
But carrying on about a politician, straight or gay, because he doesn't sound manly enough, is just childish in my opinion.