Opinions
Flood of anti-homosexuality bills in Africa threatens us all
Ugandan lawmakers on Tuesday approved revised Anti-Homosexuality Bill
Castration. Banishment. Execution.
This is the fate that a slew of new bills and their proponents in Africa seek for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender and queer (LGBTQ) people: Not only to criminalize adult same-sex sexual intimacy, but to eradicate sexual and gender diversity–including by executing queer people. 32 countries in Africa already criminalize consensual same-sex conduct. The new wave of laws goes much further, enforcing public silence around LGBTQ people’s existence, enlisting citizens as spies, and making every human rights proponent a potential criminal.
LGBTQ Africans are a fact of life. No law will make them disappear. But by promoting laws that posit queer people’s very existence as a problem to be eliminated, and constructing an unseen enemy that could be hiding around any corner, politicians convince the public to accept shockingly repressive legislation.
The ideology underpinning such laws is nothing short of genocidal. Under international law, genocide is the attempt to destroy a group of people, in whole or in part, including by “deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about its physical destruction.” The strict legal definition of genocide only applies to “national, ethnical, racial or religious” groups, but no other term as clearly captures the depravity of legislation that seeks to eliminate people because of their sexuality or gender.
Genocidal ideology underlies Uganda’s Anti-Homosexuality Bill of 2023, passed by Parliament on March 21. It attracted international condemnation as possibly the worst anti-LGBTQ law anywhere in the world, imposing the death penalty for some forms of consensual same-sex conduct. That bears repeating: 387 members of Parliament in Uganda voted to subject gay people to the firing squad for consensual sex. They voted for the death penalty yet again after President Yoweri Museveni returned the bill to Parliament on April 20, requesting amendments including the removal of the death penalty. The revised bill, passed on May 2, contains only minor changes. Families and landlords will still be forced to turn out queer people living into the streets. Speaking up for the “normalization” of sexual and gender diversity, or funding work that advances human rights or economic inclusion for LGBTQ people, still leads to a 20-year prison sentence. Prison officials and social welfare agents would be tasked with “rehabilitating” people convicted under the bill in a form of state-sponsored “conversion therapy” practices. The law maintains a “duty to report” anyone suspected of homosexuality, calling on everyone in Uganda to support the police state by spying on their neighbors, family members and coworkers.
Uganda is only the tip of the iceberg. Its brand of virulent homophobia appears to be contagious: In Kenya, MP George Peter Kaluma submitted the Family Protection Bill of 2023 to the National Assembly on April 7. The bill was a harsh response to a Supreme Court victory affirming that the National Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission had the constitutional right to register and operate as a non-governmental organization. Kenya’s proposed law follows Uganda’s example in providing the death penalty for some consensual same-sex acts, prohibiting organizations from “normalizing” homosexuality, and penalizing landlords who rent living quarters to persons in same-sex relationships. It copies and pastes language from Uganda’s bill that forces citizens to become thought police: If you “suspect” that someone “intends” to commit an act prohibited by the proposed law and do not report them, you can be fined or jailed. It also prohibits “cross-dressing,” an attempt to specifically legislate trans people out of existence.
Ghana’s Human Sexual Rights and Family Values Act of 2021, currently before Parliament, seems to have provoked less global outrage: It prescribes 3-year prison sentences for offenders rather than life imprisonment or the death penalty. Yet some of its provisions are even more draconian. They criminalize the very existence of diverse identities and orientations: a person can be shut behind bars for “holding out” as “lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, transsexual, ally, pansexual and any other diverse sexual or gender identity.” Again, an attempt to legislate queer people out of existence.
Other proposed anti-homosexuality legislation looms in Francophone countries that were spared the British colonial heritage of criminializing so-called unnatural offenses. In Mali, Justice Minister and Keeper of the Seals Mahamadou Kassogue described homosexuality as “an unnatural relationship,” stating that it would soon be banned and that the Malian “justice does not accept this practice of homosexuality.” In Niger, President Mohamed Bazoum made remarks on the intention to introduce a new Penal Code that would criminalize homosexuality.
The tabling of legislation has been accompanied by a barrage of comments from politicians calling for atrocities to be perpetrated against LGBTQ people. On March 21 during Uganda’s Parliamentary Caucus on the Anti-Homosexuality Bill, MP Sarah Opendi made statements to the effect that life imprisonment upon conviction for homosexuality is inadequate, adding that the most appropriate sentence would be castration. In Tanzania, a senior ruling party member Mary Chatanda also called for castration of people in same-sex relationships in March. Like Uganda, Tanzania already has a life sentence on the books for “unnatural offenses” and while no new law is pending, Chatanda’s comments were followed by a spike in anti-LGBTQ violence and raised fears that new laws might be tabled. Still within the same month, Burundi President Evariste Ndayishimiye urged citizens to “curse those who indulge in homosexuality, because God cannot bear it.” He added that “they must be banished, treated as pariahs in our country.” Queer people are already denied other fundamental rights in Burundi, where the law lists homosexuality as a basis of expelling students from secondary schools, thus interfering with the right to access education.
From the death penalty to elimination of safe access to housing, health care and education to calls for castration, banishment and mandatory “conversion therapy” practices, these laws and statements share one characteristic: They seek to destroy LGBTQ lives and livelihoods. Outright has documented how even before such bills are passed, they contribute to increased violence by members of the public as well as by law enforcement officials. These bills are deadly, and while legislating the elimination of queer people from public existence may not legally constitute genocide, it is genocidal thinking. Politicians who call for the execution, castration or banishment of queer people should also be aware that they are advocating crimes against humanity. The implementation of such laws could be tantamount to gender persecution — persecution on the basis of gender as part of a widespread or systematic attack directed against any civilian population — which is prohibited under the Rome Statute that established the International Criminal Court.
Meanwhile, not only queer people but also the general public in countries passing such bills will see their rights eviscerated through provisions that regulate what opinions they can express, what human rights causes they can support and to whom they can provide goods and services. Internet users, medical providers, artists, well-wishers, allies and creatives will find themselves in conflict with these laws.
Human rights are universal, inherent, inalienable and indivisible. Outright not only recommends that these bills are not affected into law, but also urges all civil society to condemn such moves to curb the enjoyment of human rights and fundamental freedoms in the name of eliminating LGBTQ existence.
Commentary
Washington Blade responds to concerns over White House pool duties
Inaccurate media reports create confusion but we stand with our colleagues
Last week, President Trump announced his unconstitutional ban of CNN, MSNow, and Politico from the White House. Coincidentally, on Monday, it was the Washington Blade’s turn to serve as the print pool reporter on duty covering the president’s actions that day. This important responsibility is shared and rotated among the print members with each serving roughly once per month. The Blade is the only LGBTQ outlet with a seat in the briefing room, a slot in the pool rotation, and membership in the White House Correspondents’ Association, something we fought for decades to secure after enduring years of discrimination, ridicule, and resistance to openly queer journalists working inside the White House. We take our responsibilities there seriously.
There are two pools that cover the president: broadcast and print. The other four members of the broadcast pool — ABC, CBS, NBC, and Fox News — agreed to boycott their pool duties. There has been no boycott among the print pool, which is a separate entity. I called the president of the White House Correspondents’ Association on Monday to confirm that no outlets in the print pool were boycotting.
A boycott by the Blade would set us back and lead to our expulsion from the pool and briefing room and our replacement by a right-wing outlet sympathetic to President Trump’s approach to attacking the media. The LGBTQ community is far better served with the Blade in the room than a far-right blogger taking our seat.
Let’s be clear: the Blade stands for diversity, equity, and inclusion and we stand for the First Amendment and freedom of the press. In solidarity with the broadcast pool, we made two important decisions on Monday — the first day anyone had to think about any of this. First, we refused to take or share any videos or still photos of the president, which would have undermined the broadcast boycott. Second, when Politico’s turn comes up for pool duty in mid-October, the Blade will not fill in and cover for them while they are banned. Politico must be readmitted and allowed to do their job.
After a rough day navigating and reporting on all of this, the Advocate published a reckless and inaccurate story suggesting that the Blade had crossed a picket line. Not true, as there is no print pool boycott. They claimed that I wouldn’t talk to their reporter. Also not true. I called their reporter within 90 minutes of receiving his message and he didn’t take the call or call me back. Their story named me and our White House reporter, immediately exposing us to public criticism and worse. The environment in D.C. is so toxic and even violent these days that subjecting our staff to unfair and false accusations like this invites harassment, doxxing, and worse. To do that without even talking to us is next level irresponsible and the antithesis of journalism.
On Tuesday, I talked to two reporters and an editor at the Advocate but they refused to retract anything in their inaccurate story. If the reporter had returned my call, I could have explained all of this but they are more concerned with clickbait and sensational headlines, a dangerous practice in these troubled times.
Back to the pool. The Blade was in the briefing room in the Reagan era, when Press Secretary Larry Speakes made jokes about AIDS and the reporters in the room laughed out loud. We endured all of that abuse and worse for decades, always standing in the back of the room and never being called on. The Blade’s journalists persevered. When President George W. Bush was re-elected in 2004, the Blade’s White House credentials were revoked amid an earlier press crackdown. Notably, no one boycotted or stood up for us. When Barack Obama won election in 2008, I received an email from his communications director informing me that effective midnight on Jan. 20, 2009, the Blade’s credentials would be restored.
So we have had quite a ride navigating administrations and their changing requirements for gaining access but always playing the long game. As Barney Frank used to say, “If you’re not at the table, then you’re probably on the menu.” The Blade is at the table and we do our best to ensure the LGBTQ community’s issues are addressed by both parties.
Thanks for reading and supporting the Blade’s work. If you have questions about our approach, you can reach me at [email protected].
Kevin Naff is editor of the Washington Blade. Reach him at [email protected].
Opinions
Young people should know history of the fight for human rights
Trump is working to erase contributions of marginalized people
When talking with otherwise really smart young people, I am amazed how little knowledge many of them have about the fight for human rights in the United States. Our country was founded by white men, who didn’t think about giving full rights to Black Americans, women, the LGBTQ community (what they knew of it, or called it). They wrote in the Declaration of Independence, “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.” But that referred to all white men, and intentionally didn’t mention women. For 250 years, the country has been trying to make up for that, and making progress in fits and starts. We have yet to fully succeed. Today the felon, and his fascist aides, in the White House, are working daily to take us backwards.
For that reason alone, it is important for younger generations to understand the fight for human rights, know who was fighting for those rights, and understand it is an ongoing fight. Often, when listening to some millennials speak, one would think the world began with them. They either forgot, or never learned, about all those who fought for the rights they now have. I realize this was true for previous generations as well. In 2016 I co-hosted a fundraiser for Pete Buttigieg during his run for president. He is an undeniably brilliant guy. Yet when he spoke of marriage equality, he just thanked Justice Kennedy for it. I reminded him after he spoke, while it’s nice to thank Kennedy for his vote, it shouldn’t be done without acknowledging the many activists who worked for decades, to get to the point that allowed Kennedy to cast that vote. In the same way it was clear to me during the Hillary Clinton campaign for president, many young women didn’t understand the work many of their own mothers had done, to fight for their right to control their own healthcare, and women’s rights in general. They took for granted the rights they had. Now, after losing some of them, many will realize the fight for their rights is never-ending.
When I speak to younger members of the LGBTQ community, I am amazed how many don’t know the history of the AIDS epidemic, many thinking it was always a disease you could deal with by taking medication. They don’t understand the work so many activists did to bring attention to this devastating disease, and get the healthcare so many needed. Those like Cleve Jones, Larry Kramer, Dr. Anthony Fauci, and so many others. Recently, I realized how many young women don’t know the names of Gloria Steinem, Betty Friedan, Shirley Chisholm, Bella Abzug — women who fought for their rights. And this is just recent history, no less knowing about the Suffragettes, the strong women who fought for their right to vote. I’ve met young women who don’t know what the ERA is, and others who think it passed. Many don’t know the nation couldn’t get 38 states to approve an amendment to include them in the Constitution. The same for young members of the LGBTQ community who don’t know what the Equality Act is. Others think it passed, and are shocked when told it didn’t and in 27 states, they can be married on Sunday, and kicked out of their home, and fired from their job, on Monday. They don’t know names like Frank Kameny, Harvey Milk, Barney Frank, or the history of the Mattachine Society, or the Stonewall Riots.
Our current president is trying to wipe out all this history, and reverse any progress that has been made. Knowing this, it makes it even more important for school systems across the nation to fight to educate our children. We should ensure no child can graduate high school, without taking a course called “The 250-year fight for human rights in the United States.” They need to understand the history, and learn about the people who fought for their rights. They need to know how far we have come in 250 years, and understand, as we begin the next 250, how far we still have to go, to ensure real, full equality, for all.
Peter Rosenstein is a longtime LGBTQ rights and Democratic Party activist.
Commentary
What LGBTQ veterans are building after ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’
DADT repeal took effect on Sept. 20, 2011. Trans servicemember ban reinstated
Fifteen years ago this month, the repeal of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” took effect. At the time, the importance of the change was obvious: gay, lesbian, and bisexual Americans would no longer have to hide who they were to wear the uniform. What was harder to see was what would follow: a generation of LGBTQ veterans able to carry their service openly into American civic life.
Earlier this month, Alaska state Rep. Andrew Gray, an Army veteran, stood before the Anchorage Assembly and asked the city to recognize Sept. 20 as LGBTQ Veterans Day.
His former command sergeant major, Mike Grunst, followed him to the microphone. A 35-year veteran who had served in combat, Grunst called troops who had served while hiding who they were “the bravest I have ever served with.”
Then Denise Sudbeck stepped forward. A Vietnam-era Navy veteran, she thanked the country for the privilege of serving and asked that the next generation have the same chance.
The Assembly approved the recognition.
Nothing about the scene required a new vocabulary. A veteran made a request of his community. A commander vouched for those who served beside him. Another veteran asked that younger Americans inherit the opportunity she valued. They entered the civic record simply as veterans.
That identity can do more than win recognition.
When federal policy abruptly ended the careers of transgender servicemembers this year, veterans and servicemembers in California began asking a practical question: What happens when those Americans come home?
Republican Assemblyman Jeff Gonzalez, a Marine combat veteran, began one hearing with questions about transgender military service. He listened as veterans explained how the military handles medical care and deployment case by case.
Then the discussion turned to separation.
“I don’t wanna see any veteran homeless,” Gonzalez said. Before the hearing ended, he was asking: “How can I help? How can I understand? How can I be a good advocate?”
The legislation that followed would provide housing, employment and transition assistance to discharged servicemembers. Republican state Sen. Shannon Grove spoke for it. The Senate passed it 32 to 0.
Americans have plainly not settled their disagreements over transgender people. Nor should military service be a prerequisite for rights that belong to every citizen.
But military service creates relationships that are difficult to reduce to the abstractions of the culture war. Before a legislature, “the transgender issue” can become a veteran who deployed, an officer who led troops, or the person who once stood beside you.
The political question changes because the human relationship has already changed.
The pattern is beginning to appear across the country. Kansas is among the states recognizing LGBTQ Veterans Day for the first time this year. New York and Virginia are pursuing broader state-level programs for LGBTQ veterans.
Sept. 20 is deliberate. On that day in 2011, “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” ended.
We usually remember repeal for what LGBTQ Americans gained: the ability to serve openly. Fifteen years later, we can also see what the country gained.
A gay veteran can stand before his local government beside the commander who once led him. A transgender servicemember can sit before a legislator who begins with doubts and ends by asking how he can help. A veteran from an older generation can ask her neighbors to give those who follow her the same chance to serve.
This is citizenship in practice.
The enduring legacy of “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” repeal is not only that Americans were finally allowed to serve openly. It is also what they can now build after coming home.
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