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Uganda’s nondiscrimination assurances won’t protect queer people from prosecution

Country’s president in May signed Anti-Homosexuality Act

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LGBTQ and intersex activists protest in front of the Ugandan Embassy in D.C. on April 25, 2023. (Washington Blade photos by Michael K. Lavers)

By NEELA GHOSHAL | Uganda’s Anti-Homosexuality Act (AHA), enacted on May 30 by President Yoweri Museveni, enshrines discrimination in Ugandan law. The AHA includes the death sentence for some consensual same-sex acts, prohibits organizations from “normalizing” sexual diversity through inclusive programming and requires everyone in Uganda, including health workers, to report people who might be lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender or queer (LGBTQ) to the police.

Can Ugandan LGBTQ people still access medical care and other basic services?

The Ministry of Health would like donors to think so. In a June 5 circular, posted briefly online, shared with donors in PDF form, and then removed from the internet, the health ministry says its policy is to provide health services “to all people in Uganda in their diversity without any form of discrimination,” “not to discriminate or stigmatize any individual who seeks health care services, for any reason — gender, religion, tribe, economic status, social status or sexual orientation” and to uphold “confidentiality, privacy [and] patient safety as stipulated in the Patient’s Charter.”

Pleasing words, but the law trumps health policies, even if they were enacted in earnest. Uganda’s Patients’ Charter is clear: “Information concerning one’s health, including information regarding treatment, may only be disclosed with informed consent, except when required by law.” Because the law, the Anti-Homosexuality Act, 2023, states that anyone who has information that a person has committed or intends to commit an offense “shall report the matter to the police for appropriate action,” health providers are still required by law to turn in LGBTQ patients. There is no client-provider privilege enshrined in the AHA for health providers.

The circular from the Ministry of Health is part of a pattern of two-faced communications from the government of Uganda regarding what the law actually states and how it will be implemented. On June 7, during his State of the Nation address, President Yoweri Museveni reiterated the claims in the health circular: “Therefore, those who say that the homosexuals will be arrested if they go for medical care, etc., are wrong. The law now says that a homosexual will not be criminalized for merely being so if he/she keeps the being to oneself.” What does this really mean in practice? If no one in the world ever finds out you are LGBTQ, including your health provider, you might be able to safely access health care, as long as that health care does not address any specific needs related to your sexual orientation or gender identity.

Meanwhile, during its University Periodic Review (UPR) process at the U.N. Human Rights Council in June, when questioned about the Anti-Homosexuality Act and the human rights violations it prescribes, the Deputy Permanent Representative of Uganda to the U.N. Office in Geneva, Arthur Kafeero, claimed that the act was a response to “a widespread campaign to promote homosexuality amongst children in schools was discovered” and that “its methods and content too difficult and graphic to explain.” He added that the government had “simply expanded the coverage of the [current] law to protect children.”

These statements make clear that the government of Uganda is not an honest broker in its engagement with the international community around the Anti-Homosexuality Act. Ugandan parliament members’ intentions were clear and are reflected in the letter of the law. The Anti-Homosexuality Act is discriminatory on face value; worse, it seeks to erase the existence of queer Ugandans. 

We’ve been through this before. In July 2014, five months after the enactment of the previous Anti-Homosexuality Act, Uganda’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a similar statement intended to appease donors. While not specific to health, it asserted that the AHA was “misinterpreted” by development partners, that it only intended to prevent the “open promotion of homosexuality, especially among children and vulnerable groups”; that “no activities of individuals, groups, companies or organizations” would be affected by the AHA; and that the government was committed to the provision of services to all in Uganda, without discrimination. 

I was part of a Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International team that investigated violence and discrimination in the wake of the Anti-Homosexuality Act. We found that  LGBTIQ people were facing arbitrary arrests, police abuse and extortion, loss of employment, evictions, homelessness, forced displacement, violence and denial of health services. The organization Sexual Minorities Uganda, which has now been forcibly shuttered by the government, wrote, at that time, “the full force of the State, particularly the legislative and executive branches of government, is being used to hunt down, expose, demean and suppress Uganda’s LGBTI people.” 

Similarly, the Ugandan non-governmental organization Human Rights Awareness and Promotion Forum, in the month following the law’s enactment on May 30, has already documented, through its direct engagement with LGBTQ individuals seeking legal aid, 23 cases involving violence or threats of violence affecting 23 individuals; 19 cases of evictions from rented property affecting 20 individuals; and four cases of arrests on sexuality-related cases, affecting seven persons. HRAPF’s report is a litany of suffering inflicted on queer Ugandans as a result of the AHA: Police are actively responding to complaints from members of the public and arresting LGBTQ people, and they are being beaten, threatened with rape and lynching and rendered homeless by their landlords, families and local council members. Health care, housing and employment are all in the balance, as illustrated by these three cases:

• June 10: Following the arrest of two gay men in his area, the client, who is a [key populations] coordinator at a government health facility, was threatened with violence by their colleagues at work and people in the community, who said he was responsible for the actions of the two who had been arrested because he was always the one supporting them and giving them treatment.

• June 12: The client was outed as a lesbian when a friend of her partner wrote letters threatening to beat her and pinned them at her door as well as delivering a copy to her workplace. She was immediately terminated from employment and forced to move after the neighbors started insulting and threatening her.

• June 14: A lesbian woman was attacked in her home and beaten by two men she did not know. This happened after she was warned to leave the village in May 2023 for her safety and was formally evicted by her landlord, but she had not yet left because she did not have the resources to afford the move. She suffered several cuts and bruises from the assault.

The true impact of the Anti-Homosexuality Act is clear. Development partners are only “misinterpreting” the Anti-Homosexuality Act if they take seriously the government’s assurances that the law will not be a vehicle for discrimination. Accessing health care, renting a room, and holding a job: these basic activities essential to life and livelihoods all carry the risk of being outed and facing imprisonment and death. There is no protection against this. Could anything be more discriminatory?

Neela Ghoshal (any pronouns) is Outright International’s Senior Director of Law, Policy and Research, based in Washington, D.C. Neela oversees Outright’s United Nations, Global Trans Rights, LBQ Connect, Queer Legal Futures, and Research programs, develops organizational priorities concerning legal and policy change, and ensures Outright’s work aligns with international human rights law. She is the author of Outright’s report on LGBTQ Lives in Conflict and Crisis and frequently speaks and writes about issues including repressive legislation, gender liberation, and peace, security and accountability for LGBTIQ people. Before joining Outright in 2021, Neela served as Associate LGBT Rights Director at Human Rights Watch, leading global initiatives on LGBTIQ rights and conducting research and advocacy on rights violations related to sexual orientation and gender identity around the world. She was also a researcher in the Africa Division at Human Rights Watch, based in Burundi and Kenya, where she covered political repression, police abuse, justice sector reform and transitional justice. Neela previously worked with the Network in Solidarity with the People of Guatemala, the Bronx Defenders, and the New York City public schools. Neela enjoys gardening, debating local and global politics and raising two feminist kids. Neela holds a bachelor’s degree in social justice studies from the University of Michigan and a master’s degree in international relations from Yale University.

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Commentary

‘A New Alliance for a New Millenium, 2003-2020’

Revisiting the history of gay Pride in Washington

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A scene from the 2001 Capital Pride Festival. (Washington Blade archive photo by Clint Steib)

In conjunction with WorldPride 2025, the Rainbow History Project is creating an exhibit on the evolution of Pride: “Pickets, Protests, and Parades: The History of Gay Pride in Washington.” It will be on Freedom Plaza from May 17-July 7. This is the ninth in a series of 10 articles that share the research themes and invite public participation. In “A New Alliance for a New Millenium” we discuss how Whitman-Walker’s stewardship of Pride led to the creation of the Capital Pride Alliance and how the 1960s demands of the Mattachine Society of Washington were seen as major victories under the Obama administration.

This section of the exhibit explores how the Whitman-Walker Clinic, a cornerstone of the community since the 1970s, stepped up to rescue Pride from a serious financial crisis. The Clinic not only stabilized Pride but also helped it expand, guiding the festival through its 30th anniversary and cementing its role as a unifying force for the city’s LGBTQ population. As Whitman-Walker shifted its focus to primary healthcare, rebranding as Whitman-Walker Health, a new era began with the formation of the Capital Pride Alliance (CPA). Born from the volunteers and community partners who had kept Pride going, CPA took the reins and transformed Capital Pride into one of the largest free LGBTQ festivals in the country. Under CPA’s stewardship, the festival grew to attract hundreds of thousands, with multi-day celebrations, headline performers, and a vibrant parade. 

This period saw Pride become a true cross-section of the community, as former Capital Pride Alliance executive director Dyana Mason recalled: “It was wonderfully diverse and had a true cross section of our community… Everybody was there and just being themselves.” The festival’s expansion created space for more people to find a sense of belonging and affirmation. This growth was made possible through the support of sponsors, volunteers, and a city eager to celebrate-but it also sparked ongoing debates about the role of corporate funding and the meaning of Pride in a changing world.

National politics are woven throughout this era. In a powerful moment of recognition, Frank Kameny — the architect of D.C.’s first White House picket for gay rights and a founder of the Mattachine Society — was invited to the White House in 2009. There, President Obama and the U.S. government formally apologized for Kameny’s firing from federal service in 1957, a symbolic act that echoed the earliest demands of DC’s own Mattachine Society, the city’s first gay civil rights organization founded in 1961. The 2009 National Equality March revived the spirit of earlier mass mobilizations, linking LGBTQ rights to broader movements for social justice. The 2010s brought landmark victories: “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” was repealed, marriage equality became law. These wins suggested decades of protest had borne fruit, yet new generations continued to debate the meaning of true liberation and inclusion.

Our exhibit examines how the political edge of Pride has softened as the event has grown. As the festival expanded in scale and visibility, the focus on protest and activism has sometimes faded into the background, even as new challenges and divisions have emerged. Some voices have called for a return to Pride’s more radical roots. The 2017 Equality March for Unity and Pride drew 80,000 people to D.C., centering intersectional struggles — police violence, immigrant rights, trans inclusion — and exposing the widening rift between mainstream LGBTQ progress and the lived realities of the most vulnerable. The question remains: Are LGBTQ officers marching in uniform a sign of progress or a painful reminder of Pride’s roots in resistance to state violence? During Capital Pride 2017, activists blocked the parade, targeting floats sponsored by corporations linked to weapons manufacturing, pipeline financing, and other forms of oppression. 

As we prepare for WorldPride and the anniversaries of D.C.’s first Gay Pride Day Block Party and the White House picket, the Rainbow History Project invites you to experience this living history at Freedom Plaza. Through archival images and the voices of organizers and participants, you’ll discover how Pride in DC has been shaped by resilience, reinvention, and the ongoing struggle to ensure every voice is heard. 


Zoey O’Donnell is a member of the Rainbow History Project. Vincent Slatt is RHP’s senior curator. 

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A conversation about queers and class

As a barback, I see our community’s elitism up close

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(Washington Blade photo by Michael Key)

In the bar, on the way to its now-Instafamous bathrooms, there’s a sign that reads, “queer & trans liberation means economic justice for all.” 

I remember seeing that sign the first week the bar opened, and ever since I often find myself reflecting on that message. I stand fully in agreement. That’s why laws protecting queers in the workplace are essential, for far too often we are targeted otherwise. It’s also why I love working at the bar, since it provides opportunities for queers from all over the spectrum to earn a living. At a time when I gave myself space to pursue art, it was the bar that enabled me to do so. 

It’s one thing to support the LGBTQ community in spirit, but that spirit means jack in a capitalist society if viable economic opportunities don’t exist. Speaking of jack, there’s a fellow barback named Jack who I fangirl over often. Jack is a decade younger than me, but damn I wish I had his sex appeal at his age (or any age, for that matter). He also has a mustache that easily puts mine to shame. 

Jack not only agrees but took things one step further. “Economic inequality IS a queer issue,” he told me, “especially as we move into the most uncertain period of American politics I have ever lived through, it is apparent our identity is now a fireable offense.” 

Uncertain is right. We’re fresh off the heels of a trade bonanza, one caused for literally no reason by our current commander in chief. Yet there emerged a strange division when discussing the trade war’s “unintended” consequences. For working class comrades like Jack and myself, we’re stressed about increasing prices in an already tough economy. But the wealthier echelons of our country had something else on their mind: the spiraling stock market. This alone highlights the story of our economic divide, where the same event produces two separate concerns for two distinct classes.  

This is not to say the stock market is not important, but sometimes the media forget many Americans don’t own stock at all, including a vast majority of people between 18 and 29. In fact, according to Axios, the wealthiest 10 percent of Americans own 93 percent of the entire stock market, with the richest 1 percent holding $25 trillion — that’s right, trillion with a “t” — in market value. So, when the president reversed course on trade, it was less about high prices hurting everyday Americans and more about the dent created in the wealth of the wealthiest. And I’ll admit: that bothers me a lot. 

If there is any takeaway from Trump’s trade war, it should be this: Economic inequality is the highest it has been in decades and, if left unchecked, will destroy the fabric of our country. We are steadily moving toward oligarchy status—if we’re not there already, that is—and it seems to grow worse with each passing year and administration. But in a city of D.C. gays who often skew corporate, I wonder: Are we all on the same page here? 

After becoming a barback, I have my doubts. From questions about what else I do, to comments encouraging me to work hard so that I can be a bartender one day, I quickly learned the gay world is not too fond of barbacking. Barebacking, sure, but not barbacking. And hey, I get it—we’re not the alcohol hookup at the bar. Still, we are part of the service industry, and while some people are incredibly kind, you’d be surprised at how many turn up their noses at us, too. 

Recently, I’ve come to realize my class defines me as much as my orientation does, if not more. Naturally, when you come from a rough neck of the woods like I do, it’s easy to feel out of place in a flashy city like D.C., which Jack noticed, too. “Anyone from a working class background could testify to that,” he said. “I don’t really know anyone from true upper class backgrounds, but I’d imagine their experience is one that leans into assimilation.”

Assimilation is a key word here, for admittedly gays love to play with the elite. Often, we don’t have children, meaning more money for the finer things in life, but that also means we may not think about future generations much, either. I’ve written before that our insecurity growing up has us ready to show the world just how powerful gays can be—power that comes in trips to Coachella and Puerto Vallarta, or basking in the lavish houses and toys we own. There’s already a joke that gays run the government, and corporate gays kick ass at their jobs as well. So, given the choice between fighting inequality and keeping a high-paying job, I must admit I have a hard time seeing where D.C. gays stand. 

Admittedly, it worked out in our favor before, given that many corporations catered to our economic prowess over the years. But look at what’s happening now: Many corporations have kicked us to the curb. Protections are being stripped from queers, particularly for our trans brothers and sisters. Law firms are bowing down to Trump, offering hundreds of millions in legal fees just for their bottom line. All of this will hurt both queers and the working class in the long run, so again I ask: Corporate gays, where do you stand? Because if you remain complicit, that’s bad news for us all. 

I don’t want to sound accusatory, and I hate being a doomsday type, so allow me to end this on a better note. Strength is not about celebrating when times are good. Arguably, true strength emerges when times get tough. These are tough times, my friends, but that also makes now the perfect opportunity to show the world just how strong we are. 

At a time when the world is pressuring us to turn our backs on each other, we must defy them to show up when it counts. Corporate gays—now more than ever, at a time when the economy is turning its back on queers, we need you. We need you to stand up for the queer community. We need you to make sure no one gets left behind. We need you to show up for us, so that we can show up for you, too. 

Ten years ago, the economy didn’t turn queer out of nowhere. The economy turned queer because we made it turn queer. 

And if we did it once, surely we can do it again. 


Jake Stewart is a D.C.-based writer and barback.

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Fight against TERFs goes global

UK Supreme Court on April 17 ruled legal definition of ‘woman’ limited to ‘biological sex’

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Transgender activists protest in Sheffield, England, on April 19, 2025. (Courtesy photo)

After last week’s U.K. Supreme Court ruling that reduced the legal definition of “woman” to “biological sex,” footage of a group of women celebrating the decision with champagne spread virally across the media. These women are known as trans-exclusionary radical feminists, or TERFs. 

In response, thousands of transgender people and their allies — including parents, siblings, and pro-trans celebrities — flooded the streets of London, Sheffield, Manchester, Cardiff, and other cities across the U.K. on April 19, to protest the erosion of trans rights. The fight between TERFs and trans* people have become more visible to those outside of the British LGBTQ+ community.

But this isn’t just about the U.K. The problem has gone global. For me, as an openly trans person who has lived in four different countries, it feels deeply personal.

For years, British TERFs have been spreading misinformation about gender around the globe, collaborating with far-right politicians and inspiring anti-trans violence.

At a pro-trans protest I attended in Sheffield, one of the speakers, Sofia Alatorre, a trans woman from Mexico now living in the U.K., dedicated her speech to the ways British TERFs, with their powerful movement supported by celebrities, such as “Harry Potter” author JK Rowling, are influencing people in South America.

“When I go to Mexico now, I don’t just hear people talking about transsexuals as degenerates anymore. Instead I hear about what bathroom we should use, or whether we belong in sports,” Sofia told the Washington Blade. “These are not lines that come from Mexico. They are finely crafted narratives designed to drive a wedge by weaponizing ‘common sense’ gut reactions to complicated subjects. Because without these, they’d have to face the uncomplicated reality: We are just people trying to live our lives happily. In the U.K., the entire media infrastructure is sympathetic with ‘gender critical’ TERF ideology to the point that sympathy blurs into outright support. With these lines finding footing in the Global South, it seems clear that the U.K. has become an exporter of transphobia.”

Unfortunately, TERFs even showed up at a trans event, attempting to argue with the speakers. 

One of the trans* organizers of the Sheffield demonstration, who preferred to remain anonymous, expressed their love for the trans* community and trans* people. They emphasized that they are not expressing hatred toward TERFs — they simply want them to reconsider their position.

“If you’re a TERF and reading this, we don’t hate you,” they said. “We don’t hate you. There is nothing I hold in my heart but deep pity for you. You do not know the community of love that we have as transsexuals, and you only know your community of hatred. If you are tired of feeling nothing but hate, come and talk to us, we’re nice, I promise. This protest is a rallying cry that we can’t lose, that we are all here for each other, and that we can do whatever the f*ck we want when we work together. We may be out here today in rage, but what keeps us alive is love.”

But it doesn’t seem like TERFs are ready to show love toward trans people — or to see trans women as their sisters. At our local protest in Sheffield, they were so agitated, jumping toward speakers and trying to engage with them, that the police had to intervene and remove them to prevent a fight. It reminded me of TERFs’ behavior I encountered in St. Petersburg, Russia, and in Russian-language online spaces.

Unfortunately, it’s not just South America that has been influenced by UK TERFs. The country I currently live in is known within European and U.S. queer communities as “TERF Island.”

Some trans Americans even avoid traveling to the U.K., afraid of the influence that Rowling holds over millions due to her wealth and cultural impact.

In Russia, Ukraine, and other Eastern European countries, so-called “radical feminism” is the most prominent feminist movement. Radical feminism, which emerged in the 1960s, is based on the belief that patriarchy is the root of all other forms of oppression.

In modern Eastern Europe, this has led to a situation where many feminists fail to acknowledge racism, ableism, and transphobia — excluding everyone except cisgender people, Slavic, atheist, and able-bodied people from their movement. Historically, radical feminists have not focused much on the trans* community, but with the rise of trans* activism in the 2000s, many became fixated on targeting trans people.

Many of my Russian-speaking trans friends have been badly bullied by local TERFs. Some even experienced suicidal thoughts and severe anxiety due to online harassment from them. And these TERFs weren’t developing their ideology locally — they were importing it. The anti-man rhetoric was inherited from American prominent radical feminists like Andrea Dworkin and Ti-Grace Atkinson, while the transphobic elements were “exported” to Eastern Europe, primarily from the U.K. and specifically Scotland.

Even before Rowling, there was Magdalen Berns, a Scottish TERF YouTuber who was extremely popular among Russian girls and women. It was Berns who helped bring Rowling into anti-trans activism.

I spoke with Sophie Molly, a Scottish trans activist and politician who ran as an Independent MP candidate in the 2024 U.K. general election for the Aberdeen South constituency. 

TERFs ruthlessly harassed her during her campaign.

“Transphobia is institutionalized in the UK. It is systemic and it’s getting worse with each passing day” she told me. “Local TERF have a slew of legal professionals on their team too. Like Sarah Phillimore and Joanne Cherry. TERFs have been continually lobbying the government to oppress trans and gender non-conforming people. Dragging their rights and freedoms through the courts. All under the pretense of protecting the rights of women. In reality these conservative groups are backed and funded by billionaires. Billionaires that want to remove trans people from public life, due a personal prejudice they hold. The majority of TERFs are wealthy and privileged white women. Most of them are not LGBTQIA+. They have obscene amounts of money to spend on persecuting a tiny minority. Trans women are women — no matter what the U.K. Supreme Court dictates.”

But another problem of TERFs is that they are policing women as well. Even the Supreme Court decision targeted women.

“The [Supreme Court] decision is an attack on the rights of both trans people and women,” Sophie said. “It reduces women to their anatomy, which is extremely regressive and misogynistic in my opinion”

Women for decades have fought to ensure their lives wouldn’t be defined by the sexual organs they were born with. TERFs are now doing exactly that — attempting to reduce womanhood to biology, while also dictating how women should behave, all in the name of “sisterhood.”

Modern British TERFs have received support from figures like musician, far-right influencer, and convicted murderer Varg Vikernes, as well as ultra-conservative organizations such as the Russian Orthodox Church, an institution notorious not only for justifying the war in Ukraine with homophobic rhetoric but also for its long history of opposing women’s rights. This kind of “feminism” is a global threat, not only to trans* people but also to girls and women everywhere.

Editor’s note: The author uses trans* in order to be inclusive of nonbinary and gender queer people.

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