Of all the absurd claims expressed by Iranian President Mahmoud
Ahmadinejad in his recent address at Columbia University, his
assertion that homosexuality does not exist in his country is the
most ridiculous.
Ahmadinejad's florid statements regarding Jews ("We are friends
with the Jewish people"), prevarications about Holocaust denial
("There are researchers who want to approach the topic from a
different perspective"), and hedging about Iranian nuclear
ambitions ("they are completely peaceful") paled in comparison to
inflammatory statements he has made on those subjects in the past
and were clearly tempered for his live American audience.
Even on the status of women, Ahmadinejad skirted critical
questions, instead effusing, "Women are the best creatures created
by God." But when asked about Iran's oppression of homosexuals,
Ahmadinejad was uncompromising and unapologetic: "In Iran, we don't
have homosexuals like in your country. We don't have that in our
country ... We do not have this phenomenon. I do not know who's
told you that we have it."
By this far-reaching statement, Ahmadinejad probably did not
mean that out-and-proud gays of the Liberace variety ("like in your
country") do not traipse through gay ghettos in Tehran, that Iran's
homosexuals are more subdued and "butch" than America's; rather, it
is reasonable to deduce that he meant homosexuality itself does not
exist.
This notion is preposterous, particularly so to the Columbia
faculty and students that rightly laughed at Ahmadinejad.
Homosexuality is a natural feature of the human condition; it has
existed since nearly the beginning of recorded history, spanning
cultures all around the world. While homosexuals in Western
democracies (where they largely don't have to fear for their lives)
may identify themselves differently than they do in a place like
Iran (where the state executes them), the notion that people
attracted exclusively to people of the same sex don't exist in
Iran-or any country, for that matter-is empirically false.
Yet while the audience in the Roone Arledge Auditorium and
millions of television viewers laughed and booed at the Islamist
rube, there was one man-ensconced at Columbia University, no
less-who was likely nodding along in agreement. His name is
Joseph
Massad, Associate Professor of Modern Arab Politics and
Intellectual History, and he legitimizes, with a complex academic
posture, the deservedly reviled views on homosexuality espoused by
Mahmoud Ahmadinejad.
According to Massad, a Palestinian Christian and disciple of the
late Columbia professor Edward Said, the case for gay rights in the
Middle East is an elaborate scheme hatched by activists in the
West. Massad posited this thesis in a 2002 article, "Re-Orienting
Desire: The Gay International and the Arab World," for the
academic journal Public Culture, and he has expanded it into a
book,
Desiring Arabs, published this year by the University of
Chicago Press. In it, he writes that such activists constitute the
"Gay International" whose "discourse ... produces homosexuals as
well as gays and lesbians, where they do not exist."
The "missionary tasks" of this worldwide conspiracy are part of
a broader attempt to legitimize American and Israeli global
conquest by undermining the very moral basis of Muslim societies,
as the "Orientalist impulse ... continues to guide all branches of
the human rights community." Massad's intellectual project is a
not-so-tacit apology for the oppression of people who identify
openly as homosexual. In so doing, he sides with Islamist regimes
over Islamic liberals.
Desiring Arabs posits that the West views the Middle
East as backwards, politically, culturally, and--ultimately
Massad's field of interest--sexually; in this sense, his book fits
comfortably in the postcolonial intellectual movement of which Said
was the intellectual father. "For the Gay International,
transforming sexual practices into identities through the
universalizing of gayness and gaining 'rights' for those who
identify (or more precisely, are identified by the Gay
International) with it becomes the mark of an ascending
civilization, just as repressing those rights and restricting the
circulation of gayness is a mark of backwardness and barbarism," he
writes.
From the start, Massad rejects the contemporary liberal view of
homosexuality as an identity, seeing only "sexual practices."
What's worse, he says, is that the attempt to "universalize" this
supposedly provincial Western homosexual identity onto Arabs is
used as a tool to distinguish between the "civilized" West and the
"barbaric" Middle East.
Massad's thesis rests largely on Queer Theory, a voguish
academic theory from the 1990s that stipulates that homosexuality
is merely a "social construction" and not an inherent state of
being. Massad writes that, "The categories gay and lesbian are not
universal at all and can only be universalized by the epistemic,
ethical, and political violence unleashed on the rest of the world
by the very international human rights advocates whose aim is to
defend the very people their intervention is creating (emphasis
mine)." Thus, not only are gay rights activists unleashing
"epistemic...violence" on Arabs and Muslims who have same-sex
relations by claiming them to be homosexual, they are responsible
for the "political violence" of the regimes that oppress them.
As one illustration of his thesis, Massad chooses the "Queen Boat"
incident of May 11, 2001, when a horde of truncheon-wielding
Egyptian police officers boarded a Nile River cruise known as the
Queen Boat, a floating disco for gay men. Fifty-two men were
arrested, and many of them were tortured and sexually humiliated in
prison. In a sensational, months-long ordeal, they were paraded in
public, and images of them shielding their faces were blared on
state television and printed in government newspapers. Most of the
men were eventually acquitted, but 23 received convictions for
either the "habitual debauchery," "contempt for religion" or
both.
State repression against gay people happens on a frequent basis
across the Middle East. Massad, however, who claims to be a
supporter of sexual freedom per se, is oddly impassive when
confronted with the vast catalogue of anti-gay state violence in
the Muslim world. Massad, unlike Ahmadinejad, does acknowledge that
"gay-identified" people exist in the Middle East, but he views them
with derision. Take, for instance, his description of the Queen
Boat victims as "westernized, Egyptian, gay-identified men" who
consort with European and American tourists.
A simple "gay" would have sufficed. He smears efforts to free
the men by writing of the "openly gay and anti-Palestinian
Massachusetts congressman Barney Frank" and the "anti-Arab and
anti-Egyptian [Congressman] Tom Lantos" who circulated a petition
amongst their colleagues to cut off U.S. funding to Egypt unless
the men were released. He then goes onto belittle not just gay
activists (one of whom, a founder of the Gay and Lesbian Arabic
Society, referred to the Queen Boat affair as "our own Stonewall,"
in reference to the 1969 Stonewall riot when a group of patrons at
a New York City gay bar resisted arrest, a moment credited with
sparking the American gay rights movement) but the persecuted men
themselves.
The Queen Boat cannot be Stonewall, Massad insists, because the
"drag Queens at the Stonewall bar" embraced their homosexual
identity, whereas the Egyptian men "not only" did "not seek
publicity for their alleged homosexuality, they resisted the very
publicity of the events by the media by covering their faces in
order to hide from the cameras and from hysterical public
scrutiny." Massad does not pause to consider that perhaps the
reason why these men covered their faces was because of the brutal
consequences they would endure if their identities became public,
repercussions far worse than anything the rioters at Stonewall
experienced. "These are hardly manifestations of gay pride or gay
liberation," Massad sneers.
Massad claims that those Arabs who do accept a Western-style
homosexual identity "remain a miniscule minority among those men
who engage in same-sex relations and who do not identify as 'gay'
nor express a need for gay politics." He makes this sweeping
assertion-upon which his entire, 418-page book is
predicated-without any statistical evidence. Furthermore, he does
not consider that the reason why Arab homosexuals may not "express
a need for gay politics" might be because they would be killed if
they did.
It becomes clear why Massad views gay-identifying Arab men with
such scorn. In his mind, they have become willing victims of
colonization. That's why Massad tacitly supports Middle Eastern
governments' crackdown on organized gay political activity: He sees
this repression as a legitimate expression of anti-colonialism. "It
is not the same-sex sexual practices that are being repressed by
the Egyptian police but rather the sociopolitical identification of
these practices with the Western identity of gayness and the
publicness that these gay-identified men seek."
Thus, Arab gays (or, to use Massad's terminology, "so-called
'gays' ") should not identify as such, because to do so is
accepting Western cultural hegemony. Massad even throws in a swipe
at the "U.S.-based anti-Arab British Iraqi writer Kanan Makiya," a
strong supporter of the Iraq war, for his alleged attempt to
include protections in the new Iraqi constitution for homosexuals.
How dare these men fight for their dignity as homosexuals!
It is true that the current understanding of "gay identity" is a
relatively new concept, formed by Western thinkers over the past
century years. This does not mean, however, as Massad contends,
that a gay identity is inherently Western. The increasing
acceptance of homosexuality as an acceptable way of life is a fruit
of Western liberalism, but so is equality for women. Just because
these notions originated in the West does not also mean that gays
around the world do not also yearn for them or deserve them. But
that is the logic of Joseph Massad.
Five years ago, a few months after Massad's article exposing the
"Gay International" appeared, Yossi Klein Halevi wrote
a piece for The New Republic about the condition of Palestinian
gay men living illegally in Israel. Halevi interviewed young men
(who, Massad should note, all identified as homosexual) who had
formed an unlikely subculture on the streets of Tel Aviv, fleeing
their own families out of fear for how they'd be treated if they
came out of the closet. Some had been the victims of torture by
Palestinian Authority officials. One 21-year-old man given the
pseudonym "Tayseer" was implicated in a sex sting devised by
Palestinian police. Halevi reported:
Tayseer refused to implicate others. He was arrested and hung by
his arms from the ceiling. A high-ranking officer he didn't know
arranged for his release and then demanded sex as payback. Tayseer
fled Gaza to Tulkarem on the West Bank, but there too he was
eventually arrested. He was forced to stand in sewage water up to
his neck, his head covered by a sack filled with feces, and then he
was thrown into a dark cell infested with insects and other
creatures he could feel but not see. ("You slap one part of your
body, and then you have to slap another," he recounts.) During one
interrogation, police stripped him and forced him to sit on a Coke
bottle. Through the entire ordeal he was taunted by interrogators,
jailers, and fellow prisoners for being a homosexual.
We in the West may scoff at Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's views on
homosexuality in Iran, but while we laugh, a Columbia University
professor-currently up for tenure-carries forth an insidious
attempt to convince the world that men like Tayseer are somehow
figments of the Western world's imagination. And who are we to
complain about the murders of people who "do not exist"?