The Politics of AIDS

WHEN the two presidential candidates were asked in their first debate about the recent federal cutoff funding for the drug AZT--a drug which has been shown to slow the progress of AIDS, neither one responded to the question.

Instead, George Bush rambled on about American values while Michael Dukakis used the question as an opportunity to plug his proposed national health insurance plan.

Through the year neither candidate has been willing to address the implications of AIDS--to them, it is a political football too dangerous to touch. But the next president will find that AIDS is indeed one of the most pressing items on his agenda when he moves into 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

The Center for Disease Control in Atlanta estimates that by 1991--the last year of the next president's term--as many as 10 million people in the U.S. will be infected with the AIDS-causing HIV virus. Of those 10 million people, most will eventually develop the disease, according to researchers.

And it won't be 10 million homosexuals who have AIDS in 1991. Or 10 million poor Blacks. Or 10 million intravenous drug users. It will be everyone, a cross-section of people that is Black and white, male and female, gay and heterosexual, rich and poor, who tests positive for the disease.

And it will be the next president who has to decide how the country will respond to such a crisis, a task which neither Bush nor Dukakis has shown himself capable of handling in the campaign.

AIDS still has the stigma in our society of being labeled the "gay men's disease." There is widespread feeling that it isn't something to worry about as long as you're "normal"--some go as far as to label the disease "God's retribution for the sins of gay men." These attitudes are clearly intolerable, and although neither Bush nor Dukakis would ever make such claims, the logic that AIDS is an isolated plague underlies both of the candidates' approaches to the disease.

The ostracism of AIDS patients is overwhelming--it extends to federal agencies, individual people and presidential candidates alike. Because the disease is perceived as an isolated affliction, affecting only one small segment of our society--and one that has historically been discriminated against--the consequences of AIDS have been largely ignored.

For a government to meaningfully respond to a public health crisis, there needs to be public concern over the issue and public discussion about policy alternatives. Other health problems, such as smoking and alcohol and drug abuse, receive more than their fair share of attention.

But except for the gruff, grandfather-like pleas of Surgeon General C. Everett Koop to encourage "safe sex" and AIDS education in the schools, the politicians and government officials have been almost universally silent.

THEIR constituency doesn't worry about the disease-they figure it can't affect them. As an AIDS patient said in a recent speech, "If I am dying from anything, it's the fact that not enough rich, white, heterosexual men have gotten AIDS for anyone to give a shit."

Disregard for the AIDS issue translates into lack of research dollars, lack of money for education outreach efforts and, more basically, a lack of interest in pursuing viable solutions to the problem.

Jesse Jackson was the only one of twelve presidential candidates who willingly made reference to the plight of AIDS patients when he campaigned last year. At a march on Washington to celebrate Gay Awareness Day, Jackson was the only candidate to show up, and continually included gays in his political message of acceptance and equality.

Jackson's stance on gay rights has helped bring gays into the political spectrum. The first step towards solving AIDS, which only Jackson has taken, is for politicians to show that they are aware that gays are an important part of their constituencies, whose rights must be protected; the second must be for them to acknowledge that the disease affects the entire country and not just a small, stigmatized group.

Unfortunately, it seems that the political response, when there is one, has been more reactionary than prescriptive. In California there is a referendum on the November 8 ballot that would end confidentiality policies for those who test positive for the AIDS virus. If it passes, doctors would be obligated to release names of those infected to state health authorities, who would then force these patients to reveal the names of all their sexual partners.

The growth of confidential testing centers for AIDS--and state laws to allow them--has been one of the few positive responses to the disease, and laws like the proposed California one would serve only to retard what progress has been made.

If legislators were serious about responding to AIDS they would ensure that federal dollars were allocated for research, health insurance and public education. They would talk openly about the fact that a problem exists.

Yet the politics of the issue preclude that. Perhaps Bush and Dukakis figure that AIDS patients don't vote and that those who do are prejudiced against those who contract the disease. And perhaps they are right.

But that is no excuse for inaction.