Marian Pallister reports on a campaign to scrap a law perceived as homophobic.

IN 1988, Margaret Thatcher was deeply into her ''family values'' period. The Victorian myth of a capitalist Papa, a nurturing Mama, and several clean, clever, and compliant children was the ideal she was selling the nation. It went painfully against the grain to suffer the liberalism of some local authorities towards misfit minority groups.

Her knee-jerk reaction to the situation was Section 28 of the Local Government Act 1988, which rather cleverly, from a Tory viewpoint, was a vote-catcher from several different perspectives. In the first instance, it attacked what had come to be known as ''loonie left'' councils; in the second, it appealed to the homophobic: election-winners both. Section 28, you may recall, barred local authorities from intentionally promoting homosexuality or publishing material with the intention of promoting homosexuality. It also prohibited ''the teaching in any

maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretend family relationship''.

Unlike most clauses in local government legislation, it is likely to have stuck in the minds of the generation which lived through Thatcherism for one rather quirky instance: a book which featured a family unit consisting of two gay men and a little girl. Jenny has Two Dads was consigned to outer darkness by the inquisitorial ferocity of Section 28.

It is now 10 years since the inception of the clause, and the gay movement has been using the anniversary to remind the Labour Government of its pledge to get rid of a piece of legislation which gays see as damaging, archaic, and downright embarrassing to Britain as a nation. How cool can Britannia be with this gay-bashing albatross slung around her neck? Last week, gays in Scotland lobbied the Scottish Office, and, yesterday, the gay rights group YouthSpeak handed in a petition to 10 Downing Street. There is no doubt in the minds of the gay groups that the Government will fulfil its pledge: they simply want the issue to be pushed to the top of the agenda.

Chris Morris, chairman of YouthSpeak, says: ''Section 28 has a devastating effect on the lives of young lesbians and gay men.'' Morris is 19 and ''came out'' at the age of 14 in a playground atmosphere of unadulterated homophobia. Like other YouthSpeak members, he says that whether sex education or Oscar Wilde was under discussion, homosexuality was completely ignored in the classroom. According to Morris, this is because there are no guidelines for teachers as there are for race issues, and there is a fear on the part of teachers that by merely mentioning homosexuality they are putting their jobs in jeopardy.

The legacy of Section 28 is that teachers do not give information about safe sex for homosexuals, making them more vulnerable to HIV and other sexually-transmitted diseases. Bullying is a major issue. As Morris says: ''The playground is a homophobic place. People don't like queers.'' The end result is low self-esteem and high rates of attempted suicide.

Quite understandably, there is a cynicism among gays about the reasons for Section 28. Apart from the vote-catching, there was also a great deal of money saved when this clause effectively stopped local authorities giving grants and loans to gay organisations, and prevented them from buying educational materials which explained or ''promoted'' homosexuality. What it did not save was the lives of those children who learned from the wall of silence surrounding homosexuality that it was not acceptable to be gay and therefore drew the conclusion that it was not acceptable for them to live. Attempted suicide rates and depression are higher among young people who are gay.

Tim Hopkins, a spokesperson for the Equality Network in Scotland, says that in the 10 years since the legislation was introduced, attitudes towards gays have changed in most areas except schools. Hopkins believes it is difficult enough for the young teenager to come to terms with his or her sexuality without a negative attitude which offers no supportive environment.

He is also convinced that, had the legislation offered equality to all sexual orientations, it would have been acceptable. As it stands, it is ''the most homophobic piece of legislation this century'', in his eyes. In Europe, Britain stands isolated on this issue. Ireland, once ultra-conservative, has changed its laws on homosexuality over the past decade. Gays now share the same age of consent as heterosexuals, and there is legislation against discrimination. Holland, always more liberal, is now calling for legally-accepted marriages between homosexuals. When Section 28 was introduced 10 years ago, liberal-minded people from other European countries organised a

six-month-long coach tour of protest around Europe.

The petition handed in to Downing Street yesterday bore 15,000 signatures. Why the urgency to make Labour fulfil its promise to wipe the statute book clean? Why not trust Home Secretary Jack Straw to find room for it on his agenda? Chris Morris and Tim Hopkins believe that every delay means another generation of young people subjected to the same prejudicial atmosphere. Hopkins is confident that if the matter is not dealt with by Westminster

before the Scottish Parliament comes into being, Edinburgh could and would quickly take action because this is local government legislation and would come under the new Parliament's remit.

The SNP, Lib-Dems, and Labour parties voted against Section 28 from the outset.

The Scottish Office is looking closely at bullying in general, and with Section 28 removed from the arena, homophobic bullying could be investigated in particular. Hopkins says: ''You couldn't, one hopes, taunt a child for being a 'Paki' and it should be the same for calling a child a 'poof'.''