FLASH BACK for a moment to the 2002 gubernatorial race, when Republican candidate Mitt Romney was doing everything in his power to woo the state's gay community. At the annual Gay Pride parade, Romney passed out fliers declaring, "All citizens deserve equal rights." He told the local gay newspaper Bay Windows that he would do all he could "as governor to educate the public on the need to fight discrimination of any form." He trumpeted his support for "benefits for domestic partners," by which he meant not just health insurance but also hospital-visitation and survivorship rights. And while Romney made clear his opposition to gay marriage, he indicated a certain degree of flexibility on the issue.

At an October 2002 endorsement meeting with the Log Cabin Republicans of Massachusetts, a 300-member organization of GOP gays, Romney led attendees to believe that his anti-gay-marriage stance stemmed from political considerations. According to David Rogers, who served as the group's president at the time, "Candidate Romney said he wasn't for gay marriage because it wasn't popular yet. But he didn't seem to care one way or the other." In fact, when reporters broke the news that Romney's wife and son had signed a citizen's petition to put a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage and domestic-partnership benefits on the November 2002 ballot, the governor condemned such bans as "too extreme."

All in all, if candidate Romney was not an advocate for gay men and lesbians, at least he seemed like someone who would protect them from discrimination.

That image stands in stark contrast to Governor Romney as today's spokesperson for those who oppose gay marriage in the current battle over the issue. Ever since November 18, 2003, when the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court (SJC) determined that the ban on civil marriage for same-sex couples was unconstitutional, the governor has done everything in his power to prevent gay men and lesbians from reaching the altar. Immediately after the SJC ruling, he issued a strongly worded statement proclaiming marriage "a special institution that should be reserved for a man and a woman" and pledged to work with the legislature to amend the state constitution to ban same-sex marriages. Since the legislature passed a proposed constitutional amendment that defines marriage as a heterosexual institution on March 29, Romney has only ratcheted up his anti-gay-marriage message.

Not only that, but the governor has kept the debate alive in the pages of the city's dailies on a consistent basis. In the past month alone, his actions have taken on a particularly frenzied quality, as if he were consumed by preventing gay marriages from becoming reality. Just when the public and political observers think they've heard the last from him on the issue, Romney brings it up again. He's had no qualms about introducing new ways to try blocking same-sex couples from marrying — or, rather, new iterations on the same theme — regardless of whether they have any chance of success. And his constant barrage against gay and lesbian couples has marred the governor's well-crafted reputation as a centrist Yankee Republican following in the footsteps of former Massachusetts governors like William Weld, Paul Cellucci, and Jane Swift.

Romney's emergence as something of a social activist on gay marriage has puzzled pundits and politicians alike. Once seen as a social moderate and fiscal conservative — a brilliant businessman who could rescue the state from a sagging economy — the governor is now viewed through the prism of this debate as a right-leaning social ideologue. Boston Herald columnist Tom Keane summed up the transformation in an April 28 column, in which he described Romney, before gay marriage became an issue, as "such a reasonable guy: less a conservative than a square shooter." Now, as Keane told the Phoenix in a separate interview, "He looks less like a Rockefeller Republican and more like a Pat Robertson Republican every day."

Fueling this perception are the extraordinary lengths to which Romney has gone to try to block same-sex couples from marrying in the state. First came his legally vacuous requests to Attorney General Tom Reilly to argue for a two-and-a-half-year stay of the SJC ruling so same-sex marriages could not take place until the amendment process ran its course. On March 30, in a letter addressed to Reilly, the governor did his best to define the dire consequences — or, as he put it, "the confusions and complications" — that would result by allowing same-sex couples to marry beginning on May 17, when the SJC ruling goes into effect. Reilly rebuffed the governor — twice. Since the Attorney General's Office is the only entity that can represent the governor before the SJC, his refusal seemed to leave Romney with little recourse. But then Romney took a different tack: on April 15, he did a circle run around the attorney general by filing emergency legislation empowering a special assistant attorney general to seek a stay of the SJC ruling. After that failed, Romney turned his attention to same-sex couples from outside Massachusetts, declaring on April 24 that he does "not intend to export our marriage confusion to the entire nation." In this move, he vowed to enforce strictly a 1913 anti-miscegenation statute that prohibits nonresident couples from marrying in the Bay State if such marriages would be illegal in their home states. (On May 4, Romney eased off on requiring proof of residency in the wake of increasing protests from Boston mayor Tom Menino and municipal clerks.) But just last Thursday, the governor was at it again, threatening to veto any attempt to repeal the antiquated 1913 law. As Log Cabin's Rogers notes, "It seems as if the governor cannot let go of this fight. It's becoming combative at this point."

Romney defenders insist that the governor’s actions in the gay-marriage debate do not contradict his past image of tolerance toward gays. After all, they argue, he has always opposed same-sex marriage. And the reason he objected to the conservative 2002 constitutional amendment was that it would have denied not just civil-marriage rights, but also domestic-partnership benefits to same-sex couples. By contrast, the current amendment would establish civil unions. "The Governor has not changed his position at all," says Romney communications director Eric Fehrnstrom in an e-mail to the Phoenix. "His concern in the wake of the [SJC] decision was that the people get the chance to decide the issue" — which, he adds, merely reflects the public will. According to a University of Massachusetts poll released last month, 44 percent of residents reject same-sex marriage, as compared to 40 percent who back it. Meanwhile, the poll reports that 52 percent of voters approve of the governor’s attempt to seek a stay of the SJC ruling. Says Charles Manning, a Republican political consultant and a close Romney adviser: "His positions show him to be totally in step with the majority of residents."

But these arguments ignore the fact that the governor is the remaining holdout among Beacon Hill leaders in the attempt to block gay marriages in the state. Every prominent gay-marriage opponent, from Reilly to Senate president Robert Travaglini, has eventually backed down. Even House Speaker Tom Finneran, a long-time foe of the gay community, has bowed out of the fight. Romney, by contrast, has continued to bring up the issue. "He reminds me of a fifth grader who wants to stay up late," says State Representative Liz Malia of Jamaica Plain, one of three openly gay legislators on the Hill who have led the fight for civil-marriage rights for same-sex couples. "He asks, ‘If I clean my room can I stay up late?’ He’s told no, but he keeps coming back."

At times, Romney has been so fixated on gay marriage that some of his efforts have seemed contradictory or have even backfired. He has made it plain, for example, that his administration will not tolerate any of the state’s 1200 justices of the peace refusing to officiate at a same-sex wedding out of protest. On April 25, Romney’s legal counsel, Daniel Winslow, told the Massachusetts Justices of the Peace Association that justices who disagree with same-sex nuptials would have to resign rather than flout the law. Why was he suddenly and inexplicably doing the right thing on this issue? Likewise, the governor has defended his policy of strictly enforcing the 1913 law by challenging critics to wipe the statute off the books. "If people don’t like the law as it currently exists, they should endeavor to change it," Fehrnstrom told the Boston Globe, according to an April 25 article. Yet Romney is now promising to veto an amendment to the state budget that would repeal the controversial statute, which State Senators Jarrett Barrios of Cambridge and Stan Rosenberg of Amherst plan to file this week. As Barrios wryly puts it, "The governor might need to think about seeing a therapist, because he’s developing a bad case of schizophrenia on this issue. He’s been all over the place."

Such inconsistencies, at least in part, are a function of the governor’s competing political and legal interests. Romney, a practicing Mormon, may genuinely oppose gay marriage on moral and religious grounds. But he has taken his opposition further than necessary to pander to certain constituencies. Suburban voters — who largely dominate Massachusetts politics — tend to want "clean government" and are conservative-leaning without being overtly redneck. National considerations also apply, which explains why many political observers chalk up the governor’s impassioned stance on same-sex marriage to political gamesmanship: Romney may be crafting an image to sell on the national stage in 2008, particularly to the Republican Party’s hard right. "It’s all about his national ambitions," says Philip Johnston, chair of the state Democratic Party. "He is acting in a craven political manner to erect hurdles for gay men and lesbians" so he can immunize himself from criticism by fellow Republicans on the national level.

Gay marriage, according to Lou DiNatale of UMass Boston’s McCormack Institute of Public Affairs, represents what he calls "meatballs" — by which he means a classic socially conservative issue — to feed the right wing of the national Republican Party. "Romney isn’t going to get tagged as a liberal Republican from Massachusetts" — à la former governor Weld — "because that’s a death knell in the national realm," DiNatale explains. "So he’s ratcheted up his rhetoric [on gay marriage] as a stunt for national Republicans."

At the same time, Romney, as the state’s chief executive officer, cannot be seen as deliberately flouting the law. So while he appears to be doing all he can to thwart the SJC ruling, he also has had to prepare for the gay-marriage onslaught — last week, for example, his administration distributed revised marriage-license applications and trained municipal clerks to handle the throng of same-sex couples sure to materialize beginning next Monday. Arline Isaacson, of the Massachusetts Gay and Lesbian Political Caucus, points out that the governor "simply cannot do what he wants to do" because he has to obey the law. If he did something illegal, she says, "it would be a real conundrum for him."

Interestingly enough, Romney’s unwillingness to violate the law is what his defenders hold up as key evidence that he has remained a "moderate and mainstream" politician on the issue. Rather than behave like a true social ideologue who would pander to the Republican right by attempting to block gay marriages at any cost, they say, Romney has carefully followed the statutes. Even in the face of his personal opposition to gay marriage, they note, the governor has abided by the law. As Fehrnstrom writes in an e-mail, "The Governor has said he will enforce the laws as they exist on May 17. Some people don’t want him to enforce the [SJC] ruling. Other people only want him to enforce the ruling, and not other laws relating to marriage. But the Governor is going to enforce all the laws."

Manning puts the sentiment more succinctly: "The governor has done his job and played it straight within the law. How is that an activist?"

ACTIVIST OR NOT, Romney has undoubtedly moved further to the right with each public pronouncement against gay marriage. But whether this shift will be good or bad for his future remains an open question. On the national front, his actions cannot help but bolster his image as a social conservative within the Republican Party. Back home, however, his handling of this debate entails risk. On the one hand, the governor’s attempts to block same-sex marriages fetch high marks from gay-marriage opponents. Says Ray McNulty, of the Coalition for Marriage, the umbrella organization that has championed the constitutional amendment banning gay marriage, "Those who support traditional marriage applaud his actions." On the other hand, Romney’s actions on this issue have alienated many of his socially moderate supporters. The Log Cabinites, to take one example, have strong reservations about endorsing the governor again. According to Ken Sanchez, the group’s current president, he and his colleagues remain disappointed that the governor has chosen "to pitch the state into a divisive debate on gay marriage and align with hard-right conservatives." Since the amendment passed last March, their disappointment has only intensified. "The governor couldn’t be happy writing discrimination into the constitution," Sanchez says. "He had to be on record as the guy who went after gay people."

Though Sanchez says he personally "cannot forgive the governor on this one," he stresses that the Log Cabinites have yet to decide whether to withdraw support from Romney. But any future relationship hangs in the balance. At this point, he says, "Any potential endorsement is seriously jeopardized. The governor would have to cease his assault on the SJC decision and recant his support for the constitutional amendment."

Senator Barrios also believes Romney’s handling of this issue has strained his base of social moderates. The day after the SJC ruling came down last November, the senator attended a fundraiser for a nonprofit group funded by many of the state’s business leaders, a core Romney constituency. Barrios sat at a table with chief executive officers of financial firms and presidents of biotechnology companies. "All they could talk about was the marriage decision," he recalls — or, more specifically, Romney’s response. "People were shell-shocked to hear what sounded like a right-leaning person. They were taken aback because it was such a contrast to his image as the moderate reformer."

Romney’s advisers discount such stories, however, pointing to the fact that the governor still enjoys high approval ratings. Throughout the gay-marriage debate, according to the April 8 UMass polling data, Romney’s favorability rating has remained at an enviable 62 percent. But DiNatale, of the McCormack Institute, believes that Romney must navigate this explosive issue with care so as not to alienate the state’s unenrolled voters, who overwhelmingly support gay rights. To get re-elected here, he explains, the governor cannot be seen as "unalterably opposed to gay rights." More important, he cannot appear hostile to gay men and lesbians. "When Republicans go too far right, they turn off the unenrolled voters," he says. "I think Romney could be doing that as we speak."

Yet no one can argue that the governor has come across as a red-meat Republican who baits his opponents by railing against the "homosexual lifestyle." When he talks about how same-sex marriages will lead to "chaos and confusion," he does so in a mild-mannered, earnest, golly-gee sort of way. And he has distanced himself from the radical members of the anti-gay-marriage camp, like those behind the last-ditch and ultimately unsuccessful lawsuits seeking to halt implementation of the SJC ruling. Or the long-shot efforts to remove Chief Justice Margaret Marshall, who wrote the Goodridge opinion, from the bench. As one pundit who backs gay marriage notes, "There is not much evidence of a drooling Pat Buchanan here."

Even so, public opinion on the issue is constantly evolving. Only a slim majority of Massachusetts residents currently opposes same-sex marriages enough to back the proposed constitutional amendment banning them. Once gay and lesbian couples begin getting married for real, the public attitude will likely shift toward the other side.

"This is a tricky issue," DiNatale says, "and the governor may be misplaying it." If Romney becomes too much of an obstructionist, he adds, "he may come out looking foolish."

Even if Romney looks good in the short term, he still must contend with history. And supporters of gay marriage are already likening him to Southern resisters to court-ordered desegregation in the 1950s and ’60s. In his April 28 column, the Herald’s Keane compares Romney to officials in Jackson, Mississippi, who decided to close the public swimming pool rather than integrate it. Or the officials in Prince Edward County, Virginia, who shut down the public schools rather than desegregate them. Joshua Friedes, a prominent gay-rights advocate and the director of the local Freedom To Marry Coalition, agrees that Romney will be viewed in much the same way. "That is his historic epitaph."

Marriage supporters like Michael Goldman, a Democratic political consultant, even compare Romney’s position on gay marriage to the virulent segregationism of former Alabama governor George Wallace, who, in 1963, stood in a University of Alabama doorway in an attempt to block black students from enrolling at the school. History will paint Romney, like Wallace, as a "sad, pathetic opportunist who chose to play to the bias of the crowds rather than lead them," Goldman says — a comparison Romney defenders call "outrageous." (Says Manning, "Whenever you accuse anyone who disagrees with your position of being a bigot, then you’re really the bigot.") But the governor’s actions effectively perpetuate the cycle of discrimination, just as Wallace’s did. Says Goldman, "Wallace pandered to prejudices when he said, ‘Segregation today, tomorrow, and forever.’ What has Romney said with his acts if not ‘Straight marriage today, tomorrow, and forever?’"

However history regards Romney, his immediate response to the imminent same-sex marriages in this state will prove critical to how Massachusetts residents view him on the issue. Will the governor seize the spotlight to denounce the same-sex weddings? Or will he fall silent and let gay and lesbian couples have their day?

"On May 17," South End state representative Byron Rushing, a leading gay-marriage supporter, said recently, "I like to say that Massachusetts residents will wake up and find the sun has risen and the milk hasn’t curdled." Rushing has now added a third element to the sequence: "I say, ‘The sun will rise, the milk won’t curdle, and Governor Romney will remain silent. At least two of those things will happen."