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Complicating the Complicated
Queer Activism, Palestine, and
World Pride 2005/6
by Farris Wahbeh
After the major media success and publicity in 2000 of Rome World Pride, the group behind the event, InterPride
(International Association of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Coordinators), elected the organization Jerusalem
Open House to organize a similar event entitled "Love Without Borders" in Jerusalem in August of 2005. On May 14, 2005, however,
Jerusalem Open House decided to cancel the parade. The organization announced that probable Israeli demonstrations against
Prime Minister Ariel Sharon’s supposed pullout and dismantlement of Israeli settlements in occupied Gaza prompted them
to move the parade to August 6-12, 2006.
Surprisingly enough, throughout their web-site and press releases, the Israeli organization hardly, if ever,
mentions the presence of Palestinians. On the "Love Without Borders" website, under the heading "Security," Jerusalem Open
House declares: "Contrary to what you may see on television or in the newspapers, Israel is a very safe place to visit. Since
the outbreak of the second intifada (which is widely accepted to be over) security has become very tight here." The second
intifada as "widely accepted to be over" is a grand claim: Palestine/Israel is still as tense as it was when the second mass
uprising known as the second intifada first began in 2001. As a form of collective resistance, the intifada ebbs and flows
depending on the political climate as imposed by the Israeli government. Being as such, the organization of Palestinian resistance
depends on the plausibility of the circumstances, since border closures, housing and territory destruction, and the imprisonment
of Palestinian men and women is effectuated at the whim of Israeli security forces from governmental demands.
Palestinians, unlike most Israelis, must confront borders without much love. Checkpoints, detentions, and
identification cards, are only a partial list of unjustified social weights imposed on Palestinians living in Israeli occupied
land. It is a matter of unpredictable stagnation, a static that is psychologically and physically debilitating. After Israel
invaded East Jerusalem, the West Bank and Gaza in the 1967 Six-Day-War, the United Nations Security Council passed Resolution
242 which calls for the "withdrawal of Israeli armed forces from territories occupied in the recent conflict" and highlights
the "inadmissibility of the acquisition of territory by war." Israeli security forces have not left, and still continue to
build illegal settlements in those very territories. While Prime Minister Sharon is supposedly dismantling settlements in
Gaza, others are simultaneously being built in the West Bank.
Moreover, in 2000, the then Prime Minister Ehud Barak approved of what would later become known as the "wall"—a
concrete structure that separates Palestine from Israel. Rather than following the armistice agreement, now known as the Green
Line, between Israel and Jordan in 1948 (notice here the blatant absence of Palestinian litigation), the wall illegally cuts
into Palestinian territory. A de facto annexation for the Israelis, the mammoth concrete "wall" is a border that cannot be
removed from the Palestinian vista. In its final realization, the wall will measure 403 miles long, with an average height
of 25 feet. Compared to the now destroyed Berlin Wall, which was a total of 96 miles and an average height of 11.8 feet, Israel’s
wall is meant to silence and forcefully make the Palestinians disappear. Ravaging the land, destroying countless homes, and
subjugating Palestinians to a cruel isolation, the wall is a forced border that humiliates Palestinians. Any form of mobility,
whether by foot, car, or horse, is futile—an average mile could take hours to travel. As a form of illegal containment
(the UN has criticized Israel for the walls construction repeatedly), the government of Israel clearly seeks to eradicate
the everyday life of Palestinians.
Considering the Israeli wall as a political move that has grave human rights consequences,
one wonders how much purposeful censorship is involved in organizing "Love Without Borders." Whether out of callous disinterest
or naVve ignorance, World Pride 2005 blatantly ignores
the socio-political stakes in the Palestinian region. Paradoxically, if gay Arabs even tried to participate in an event such
as "Love Without Borders," they would probably be denied entry into the festivities due to "borders" World Pride 2005 seeks
to do "without." Although their efforts to combat sexual bigotry is a noble one, InterPride and Jerusalem Open House turn
a blind eye towards a struggle that has been raging for decades with World Pride 2005. The event signals a critical moment
in gay and queer culture. Now that events such as World Pride are sweeping the international horizon, the once considered
politically disenfranchised sexual minority has become an alibi with governmental acts deemed oppressive by international
standards—this is as "assimilationist" as queer culture can get, following Leo Bersani’s train of thought.
Contrary to what may seem like silence on the Israeli front regarding these infractions, Israel also has
its dissidents—including, surprisingly enough, many lesbians, gays, bisexuals, and transgendered. The Tel-Aviv based
direct action group Kvisa Shchora (Black Laundry), is one such organization (www.blacklaundry.org). Black Laundry’s
mission is simple: "There is no pride in the oppression of others. There is no pride in occupation." Before the date change
of World Pride 2005, Black Laundry did not boycott the event but insisted on remaining as a presence. "We don't actively encourage
anyone to visit Israel to take part in World Pride events, or in any kind of global consumerist gay culture, but we will organize
events and present radical alternatives to international queers who do decide to visit. We hope that queers coming to Jerusalem
for World Pride will consider joining our activism against the occupation and for social justice in Israel and Palestine."
Black Laundry is notorious for their demonstrations against the Israeli occupation; the group has been a
permanent fixture in Pride Parades held in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. For many, including your Queer Palestinian-American writer,
Black Laundry jolts preconceived notions of how Israelis, and primarily queer Israelis, apprehend the Israeli/Palestinian
situation. Another surprise comes from the US, where Queers Undermining Israeli Terror (QUIT) is also vociferous against Israeli
occupation and terror (www.quitpalestine.org). The Berkeley, California based group initiated the Boycott World Pride 2005
web campaign (www.boycottworldride.org). They have also "settled" a Starbucks in Berkeley, a sit-in that targeted Starbucks
CEO Harvey Schultz’s major support for the Israeli state. An example from Palestine is ASWAT (Voices), a group of gay
women in Haifa who push for equal rights in Palestinian society.
For many queer activists involved in Palestinian rights and resistance, sexuality is always an issue—as
it is with everything else. To put it bluntly, Palestinian society does not welcome alternative lifestyles. Journalist Eric
Beauchemin investigated this tension that many gay Arab men experience daily in the BBC radio programme aptly titled "The
Gay Divide." Traveling through Palestine, Beauchemin encountered gay men and women who are ostracized, punished, and threatened
because of their sexual identity. According to the BBC in 2003, at least 300 gay Palestinian men illegally escaped into Israel
to evade sexual persecution at the hands of practicing Muslims who claim that homosexuality is a practice that breaks with
the Qu’ran. Gay men who flee Palestine only face further troubles in Israel—the uncertainty of living as an illegal
citizen, deportation, and the persecutions common to persons whose nationality automatically labels them a security threat.
Palestinians who cross the geographical divide of Palestine/Israel to live their lives as gay men or women and are then forced
to return to the Occupied territories because of discriminatory Israeli immigration policies, only face more incrimination
and hate from Palestinians.
In order to survive in Israel, many gay Palestinians become prostitutes. Palestinian film director Tawfik
Abu-Wael’s 2001 short film Diary of a Male Whore, considers this tense reality. Even while experiencing sexual
pleasure at the hands of his clients, Esam, the protagonist, is constantly reminded of his hometown in Palestine. Without
comprise, Abu-Wael inflicts violent images of Esam’s past while he services his Israeli client. The violence of experiencing
transgressive pleasure (Esam’s) and the pleasure of conquering, and thereby dominating, the violence of Palestine through
pleasure that is economically exchanged (Israeli client), are conflicting points of view that are potently witnessed through
images that wreak of destruction. The sexual contact between Esam and the anonymous Israeli is a site of sexual and political
economies, both of which are entrenched lived experiences that underline the inherent circle of violence associated with Palestine
and Israel—the oppressor and the oppressed, the East versus the West. Esam, like many gay Palestinians trying to live
their identity, reside in a world that is neither here nor there. Palestinian homosexuality remains an issue that breaks the
chord of societal acceptance in Palestinian culture, a chord that, once broken, can elicit grave consequences for those who
brake it.
The true test of a future Palestine, I believe, is anchored by the social position gay men and women will
have as Palestinian citizens. Caught in the net of sexuality, identity, and nationality, they underscore the particular difficulties
for a people in the midst of forging their own state. What will be their status as citizens if Palestine becomes its own state?
How will Palestinian society and culture apprehend alternative sexual orientations? With Westernized Israel occupying it on
every side, how will Palestine grapple with sexual identity? To be sure, Arab culture in general, unlike the West, does not
accommodate open homosexuality. For better or worse, queer or gay sexuality cannot be found in any industry, culture, or city
quarter. Palestinian society, like many others, is indigenous in this respect: bound by tradition and ritual. Palestine’s
current socio-political disadvantage ties its efforts primarily towards basic human rights for the whole population—the
question of homosexuality, as another pertinent voice in the coming state that is Palestine, is one texture that can only
add to the plight of an autonomous Palestinian nation, society, and culture. Perhaps I am breaching a utopian boundary, an
imagined, if not imaginary, social and cultural body that coordinates and sustains itself through plurality. However fixed
Palestinian tradition may be, it is still a plausible outcome—one only needs to think of Huey P. Newton’s work
to foster dialogue between the civil rights work of the Black Panthers (one also thinks of the Mizrahim, or Black Panthers,
in Israel), Gay Rights, and Women’s Liberation.
Like Cheryl Clarke has written in her seminal essay of 1983 "The Failure to Transform: Homophobia in the
Black Community," without addressing and confronting the issue of oppression as a state of affairs that affects the whole
community struggling for equality, there can be a "failure to transform" that very community. In Clarke’s case, homophobia
is counterintuitive to the struggle, that of equality for all black Americans. For Palestinian society, one forcibly
encroached by Israel (the racial supremacy of Israel also resembles that of white American attitudes), the "failure to transform"
is of equal measure. What Clarke says of homophobia as experienced in black communities in the US is also applicable to gay
Palestinians living in Israeli occupied territories, homophobia breeds on a homophobic culture. The power to transform such
hate against homosexuality can be one instrumental measure for Palestinian culture, especially when oppression affects Palestinian
society entirely. As a form of political intersection, the struggle for Palestinian equal and civil rights can only build
itself stronger as a struggle that confronts issues such as homophobia, heterosexism, and racism.
Queers involved with Palestinian issues are thus in a bind—one that pulls at the polemical strings
tugging our sexuality and politics. While we voice our opinions on the war waged against Palestine at the hands of the Israelis,
to express their sexuality, many gay Palestinians flee the very society, culture, and land we seek to support. Trying to disengage
one’s sexuality from one’s ideology, when both are so closely intertwined, is a challenge. It is, however, not
a stumbling block. Rather, it remains as another generative dialogue, voiced by many queers, for the coming statehood of a
free Palestine. Rather than remain silenced, queer resistance to the acts of ignorance, racism, and genocide effectuated by
the Israeli government against the Palestinian population can only benefit the necessity of bearing witness to the issue that
is Palestine.
World Pride 2005, "Love Without Borders," is a frightening example of how Palestinian identity is in a constant
threat of being consciously eradicated from the homeland that is rightly their own. Moreover, it is an event that undermines
the very meaning of what queer activism and politics are all about—the prospect of freedom. The title of the event itself
wills Palestinian identity to be non-existent, a disappearing act in the making. In the final analysis, that is what genocide
hopes to achieve. Palestinians, in their quest for international recognition as a people, culture, identity, and society,
will not concede to a state of invisibility. Queers from many parts of the world understand this at once. The internationally
recognized motto created by AIDS activists in the group Act Up serves well here, both for Palestinians and Queers alike, "Silence
Equals Death." As unlikely bedfellows as they may be, queer solidarity with the Palestinian cause is one example of how personal
politics can activate the awareness of an international social body.
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