Adele M. Stan is a contributing editor to Ms. magazine and a contributing writer to Mother Jones.

It was a brutally frigid, windy night in 1996 when, on the eve of the Iowa caucuses, I stood in the midst of a festival of hatred in Des Moines' First Federated Church at a rally ostensibly called to uphold the sanctity of marriage. The rally was produced by a fellow named Bill Horn, an itinerant medicine-show man whose signature potion was no mere snake oil, but venom distilled. Horn had made his name producing and distributing a virulent piece of video propaganda called "The Gay Agenda," of which, rumor held, he sold copies out of the back of his truck in the off-season, in between gigs as an outside agitator in the service of the right's lesser bosses.

But this was Horn's night to shine. Nearly all the contenders for the Republican presidential nomination (front-runner Bob Dole found something else to do that night) lined up to address the snarling throng. And after each man spoke, he was handed a magic marker with which to sign a giant placard printed with pledge to fight any and all attempts to legalize marriage between two people of the same sex.

Was Heston's appearance useful?

Horn's biggest coup that night was his keynote speaker: Charlton Heston, late of Cecil B. DeMille epics and soon to be president of the National Rifle Association. Upon assuming the pulpit, Heston promptly claimed to have created the evening's harsh meteorological conditions -- not only confusing himself with a movie role he had played (Moses) but confusing Moses with his maker -- before launching into a tirade against those who would seek to sully the sacred institution of marriage.

None of it made a whole lot of sense, but it was quite a spectacle in the First Federated Church, which is really more of a television studio than a sanctuary, with its three giant TV screens and video lighting and control-room windows in the walls up near the ceiling. And it made for pretty good amateur television; I watched it again on C-SPAN once I got back to my motel room.

Show's over

Unfortunately for the gay-rights movement, no such spectacles are likely this time around in the contest for the Republican presidential nomination. The GOP learned its lesson the hard way, through a humiliating defeat at the polls, so this time the right will have to exact its pound of flesh from the party of Lincoln in a far less public way. And therein lies the danger for those who seek equal rights for gay people.

The truth is, poll after poll finds that few people really oppose giving lesbian and gay people equal rights. But neither do they feel passionate enough about the rights of lesbians and gays to insist that those rights be conferred. "Out" and vocal gay people often hail from backgrounds of affluence; they do not give off the appearance of an oppressed minority.

Yet, in terms of their legal standing, little has changed for gay men and lesbians even though they largely have been accepted by popular culture. In 39 states, a gay person can be fired from any job simply for being gay. Although reports of anti-gay violence have risen substantially since 1991, less than half the states have anti-hate-crime statutes on the books that cover violence against lesbians and gays.

Even after the torture and murder of Matthew Shepard, a gay college student allegedly targeted because of his sexual orientation, federal hate-crimes legislation drafted to define such violence as a bias crime languishes in Congress. Attempts to rectify gay vulnerability to discrimination in the workplace or to prosecute anti-gay predators as such are invariably met by cries of "no special rights for homosexuals" by right-wing lawmakers and preachers.

Two months before the 1996 presidential election, Congress passed the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA). DOMA would permit any state or the federal government to deny recognition of gay marriages performed in a state that sanctions them. Because, as of yet, no state has legalized gay marriage, the bill remains moot. It is widely viewed among scholars as unconstitutional, although that will depend on who is on the Supreme Court when it is finally challenged. And the next president of the United States may get to choose as many as three justices.

The pound of flesh

When right-wing GOP leaders acted out in public against lesbians and gays, it played badly for them in the eyes of the proletariat, thereby offering some measure of protection to gay-rights activists, who could not help but appear to be models of reason by comparison.

But in this election cycle, the real power players among the GOP -- even the right side of the party -- are playing it much more coolly. Christian Coalition head Pat Robertson, ever the pragmatist, already has signaled that George W. Bush, the Republican front-runner, would be a good GOP presidential candidate despite the latter's mealy-mouthed rhetoric about compassionate conservatism and Bush's aversion to discussing the right's hot-button issues, such as homosexuality and abortion. Many rabid righties in the House, such as Majority Whip Tom Delay and Majority Leader Dick Armey, both Texas Republicans, also have lined up behind Poppy's prodigal son. Should this Texas star make it to the Oval Office, it would be naive to think he will owe nothing to his homophobic sponsors.

Even anti-homosexual purists are taking a new tack. Instead of outright condemnation of gay and lesbian partnerships, they are spending a great deal of money to advertise a movement of "ex-gays" -- people who, once they realize that their homosexual activities cast them outside the Kingdom of God, are able to live heterosexual lives through the power of prayer.

The message is an old one: Homosexuality equals sin. But because it is delivered with a tone of condescending compassion and the promise of redemption through heterosexuality, it is far more dangerous to the homosexual rights movement than the fire and brimstone of yore.

Today, with so many out of the closet and arguing for the basic human rights they have yet to win, lesbians and gay man are more vulnerable than ever. For a variety of reasons, the fate of the homosexual-rights movement hangs on the outcome of the 2000 elections for Congress and the presidency. Let's hope we choose well. Let's pray we choose nothing less than the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness for all Americans.