Opinions
Breaking binaries and advocating for intersex justice in Southern Africa
Movement embraces intersectionality and affirms people’s multiple identities
A transformative movement is gaining momentum in Southern Africa, a region known for its diverse cultures and traditions. This movement challenges gender norms and advocates for the rights and dignity of intersex individuals. This article explores the vital concepts of breaking binaries and intersex justice in Southern Africa, where cultural nuances and a rapidly developing fierce spirit of activism reshape the landscape of gender diversity and sexuality.
The world is quickly changing, and with it comes an increasing recognition of the importance of diversity and inclusion. In the past, many people have looked at the world in terms of binaries — Black and white, male and female, homosexual and heterosexual. However, this way of thinking is limiting and does not reflect the diversity that exists in our communities. Breaking these binaries and embracing diversity and inclusion is crucial to creating a fair and equitable society by recognizing and protecting all these diversities.
Intersex intersectionality
Intersex justice is a social and human rights movement that advocates for the rights, dignity and well-being of intersex individuals. It is also a political movement making political statements since in the broader context of identity politics and the recognition that vulnerable and marginalized communities have historically been subjected to social, political and legal discrimination. When gender-diverse people dare to express their identities openly (and using the plural term for identity here intentionally because, using the theory of intersectionality, everyone has their own unique identities and experiences), it can be seen as a form of resistance and a statement against the systemic discrimination and oppression they may face.
Intersex people are born with variations in their sex characteristics that do not fit typical definitions of male or female. Intersex people often face stigma, discrimination, medical interventions without informed consent and societal violence. Inclusive binaries and intersex justice are significant issues in Southern Africa, as they intersect with the region’s traditional, cultural, social and legal aspects. In many parts of Southern Africa, intersex persons are often frowned upon, hidden or even believed to be a curse and killed.
As we work on intersex awareness, though annual commemorations such as #IntersexAwarenessDay, there is a solid need to reject stereotypes that lead to discrimination and prejudice. Breaking binaries embraces intersectionality and affirms that people have multiple identities that intersect and interact with one another.
Several Southern African customs have a long-standing relationship with gender and sex, associated with male and female and masculinity and femininity and there is no in-between; males are expected to masculinize, and females are supposed to feminize. The push for inclusive binaries challenges these traditional gender norms and promotes a more inclusive understanding of human diversity.
Gender norms and it has influenced societies
Gender norms have profoundly influenced Southern African societies, shaping cultural, social, and economic dynamics for centuries, and this has also impacted modern gender norms in our communities. Gender norms can be defined “as social principles that govern the behavior of girls, boys, women and men in society and restrict their gender identity into what is considered to be appropriate,” a definition also very limiting and binary based with little consideration and acknowledgement of the diverse gender spectrum.
Gender norms, a social construct, were often prescribed specific roles and responsibilities for men and women, and we have been inaccurately taught in history, moral education and social studies lessons in schools that in the past, men were traditionally seen as hunters, warriors and providers, while women were responsible for domestic tasks, childcare and subsistence farming.
These roles have reinforced gender-based inequalities in access to resources and economic opportunities that we experience today in a somewhat progressive modern society. Gender norms typically grant more decision-making power to men, and they often hold leadership positions within the community. This practice continues as men’s voices are prioritized in governance and social development matters, which has resulted in the exclusion of women from participating in important decisions that affect their lives and communities, and this is even worse for gender-diverse persons and they do not satisfy the bias “male” and “female” category.
The unequal power dynamics enforced by society’s gender norms have contributed to higher levels of gender-based violence. Domestic violence and harmful practices such as child marriage and female genital mutilation have persisted in some Southern African communities due to these norms. Intersex persons have not been spared from genital mutilation as some have undergone “gender reappropriation” surgeries as infants. There is a growing push in advocacy and legislative reform to protect intersex minors from unconsented gender surgeries as this is a choice that should be for them to make. The influence of gender norms has further influenced healthcare service delivery as sexual and reproductive health and rights development have been limited and not inclusive and accessible for intersex persons. This limitation has resulted in a lack of bodily autonomy for intersex people. Being gender-diverse has many excluded intersex people from essential fundamental health services such as family planning and mental well-being.
Another aspect influenced by gender norms is inheritance rights. Many African societies are built in a cisgender patriarchal system, and because of this, inheritance and property rights have been structured in a way that favored male heirs. This has often left women and girls without access to land and resources, making them economically vulnerable and dependent on male relatives.
The result of not conforming and fitting into mainstream male or female gender identity often left intersex persons excluded, facing stigma, discrimination and prejudice from various packets of society. Efforts are being made to raise awareness about intersex issues, promote inclusivity, challenge discrimination and prevent the invisibilization of intersex voices and identities. Intersex justice organizers work to ensure intersex individuals are recognized, respected and provided with the support and care they need while fighting against harmful practices and discrimination.
Efforts and promoting intersex rights and justice in Southern Africa
Promoting intersex rights and justice in Southern Africa has become an increasingly important focus for advocacy and human rights organizations in recent years.
Human rights organizations, such as the Southern Africa Litigation Center, are actively involved in legal advocacy for gender-diverse individuals and work to challenge discriminatory laws and practices, and supporting strategic litigation that promotes the rights of gender minority and gender-diverse people in Botswana, Eswatini, Lesotho and Zimbabwe.
Regional organizations such as Iranti and Gender DynamiX advocate and provide training and educational resources to healthcare professionals, religious and cultural leaders, policymakers, and the public. These advocacy initiatives aim to enhance understanding and sensitivity regarding intersex issues and collaborate with other human rights organizations to foster a more inclusive and accepting society.
Legal and policy developments on intersex rights in Southern Africa
Legal and policy developments related to intersex rights in Southern Africa have gained momentum in recent years, reflecting a growing recognition of the need to protect the rights of intersex individuals. Additionally, the Protocol to the African Charter on the Rights of Women, a progressive human rights instrument, requires state parties to take specific measures to end violence against women regardless of their sexual orientation or gender identity. Furthermore, the Protocol calls for the ending of genital mutilation and the promotion of bodily autonomy and reproductive health choices of women, including intersex women.
In South Africa, the Promotion of Equality and Prevention of Unfair Discrimination Act as amended in 2005 interprets the definition of “sex” to include intersex persons; therefore, intersex persons are protected from unfair discrimination, harassment and hate speech and promote equality for intersex persons.
In 2014, the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights adopted Resolution 275, which protects against violence and other human rights violations against persons based on their actual or imputed sexual orientation and gender identity. Resolution 275 expresses grave concern about increasing violence and other human rights violations, including murder, rape and assault experienced by sexual and gender minorities. It calls upon states to stop such violence and take appropriate measures to ensure adequate remedies for victims.
Botswana made significant progress in 2017 by recognizing the rights of transgender and intersex individuals to change their legal gender markers on official documents. This ruling by the court was a crucial step towards recognizing the diversity of gender identities and would pave the way for the protection of gender-diverse persons. In many Southern African countries, such as Eswatini, Lesotho and Namibia, intersex persons can legally change their name and sex on birth certificates to suit their preferred gender identity per the national registration acts.
In 2022, the Zimbabwean government adopted two recommendations at the country’s Universal Periodic Review at the Human Rights Council on gender minorities, which were to protect intersex minors from unconsented operations surgeries and violations of bodily integrity and to strengthen efforts to address violence against women, children and all persons based on their sexual orientation and gender identity. Intersex advocacy groups in Zimbabwe have been working to raise awareness and challenge harmful practices. Following the adopted recommendations, there is an expectation to see an increase in dialogue between the government and human rights organizations on protecting intersex people’s rights.
In March this year, the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights adopted Resolution 552, which seeks to promote and protect intersex rights on the African continent. Resolution 552 comes with clear recommendations for states to create administrative and legislative measures to protect intersex persons from violent harassment at home, school, the workplace and in the broader society. It calls on member states to ensure that members of their judiciary, immigration officials, law enforcement officers, healthcare and education practitioners, as well as traditional and religious communities, are sensitized to protect, respect and treat intersex people equally without discrimination or prejudice. It further calls for the recognition and protection of intersex movements and human rights defenders to organize without any threats and that perpetrators are tried and persecuted.
Intersex liberation is our liberation too
The fight for the recognition, protection, and inclusion of intersex people is an ongoing and essential human rights struggle. And while there has been progress, challenges still exist for intersex rights. It is necessary to continue advocating for the full recognition and freedoms of all intersex people, to protect their bodily autonomy and to ensure that they can live their lives with dignity and without discrimination.
Bradley Fortuin is the LGBTIQ+ Program Officer at the Southern Africa Litigation Center and a social justice activist.
This article is part of advocacy efforts on recommendations to the government of Botswana’s Universal Review of Botswana at the 43rd Human Rights Council. A joint submission Stakeholder Report was submitted by Banana Club,Black Queer DocX, Botswana Trans Initiative, Life|Loss|Love, Mmammati Human Rights Hub, Iranti, the Southern Africa Litigation Center and the Sexual Rights Initiative.
Opinions
The facts about Victory Fund’s investigation and the path forward
Probe did not find legal or policy violations by Evan Low
William Waybourn helped found an organization whose mission has never been more important, but his recent op-ed in the Washington Blade leaves readers with a fundamentally inaccurate impression about how the LGBTQ+ Victory Fund and Institute Boards responded to concerns raised about our organizations, their leadership, and our governance responsibilities.
The boards did not dismiss or minimize concerns. We did what responsible governing bodies should do: We took them seriously, retained experienced independent legal counsel, and authorized a thorough investigation to establish the facts.
The investigation proceeded without interference from the boards or organizational leadership, and the full boards were briefed on its eventual finding.
The conclusion matters: The investigation did not substantiate any legal or policy violations. After the briefing, the boards voted unanimously to accept the findings and close the investigation.
An independent investigation is meaningful only if we are prepared to respect its conclusions — whatever they may be. In this case, after reviewing the investigation and its findings, the boards continue to have confidence in President and CEO Evan Low.
That does not mean our work as governing bodies is finished or that any organization is beyond improvement. The boards will continue to work with staff strengthening Victory, including reviewing and updating policies to ensure they reflect best practices and support a strong working environment.
We can take matters raised seriously while also being clear about what an independent investigation did and did not find. Those are not contradictory positions. In fact, maintaining both is essential to treating everyone involved fairly.
Victory has endured for more than three decades because its mission is bigger than any one individual — a founder, board member, CEO, staff member, candidate, elected official, or donor. Generations of people have built Victory into an indispensable force for LGBTQ+ political representation, and those entrusted with governing it today take seriously our responsibility to protect that legacy and strengthen Victory for what comes next.
And what comes next could not be more consequential. Election Day is weeks away, LGBTQ+ candidates across the country are facing enormously important races, and our community continues to confront attacks on our rights and representation.
We will continue exercising the oversight expected of us, strengthening the Victory organizations, and focusing on the urgent work Victory was created to do: training and helping elect LGBTQ+ leaders, and ensuring our community has a voice wherever decisions about our lives are made.
Opinions
Evan Low is not the leader the Victory Fund needs at this moment
The board must recognize what is at stake and act before org’s legacy is lost
As co-founder and the first executive director of the Victory Fund and Victory Institute, I find the ongoing turmoil between a dozen or more employees and the organization’s new president, Evan Low, deeply distressing—particularly during such a critical election year.
The Victory Fund’s mission has always been clear and important: to elect and support qualified LGBTQ candidates for public office and, in doing so, secure a “seat at the table” from which LGBTQ issues can be advanced. That mission is too important to let internal turmoil diminish it.
I applaud the employees for going public with their concerns. When harassment allegations and other serious complaints threaten to derail an organization that was once so effective, where else are employees supposed to turn? The board of directors has a legal and fiduciary responsibility to the organization and to its donors.
I do not know Mr. Low, nor have I ever met him. Given my role as a founder, former executive director, and major donor, I found that somewhat remarkable. I was also surprised by the organization’s lack of contact with me at any level—whether to seek my financial support, ask for help with fundraising, or simply seek the perspective of someone involved in building the organization from its earliest days.
When Mr. Low was hired, members of the press contacted me about reports concerning his involvement in previous election-law matters. I declined to comment beyond saying that the board had hired an outside search firm to conduct the search and that I was in no position to assess any issues in Mr. Low’s past.
In hindsight, however, I have come to believe that Mr. Low is not the leader the Victory Fund needs at this particular moment. Ultimately, though, this is a matter for the board of directors to resolve. The board has an obligation to act decisively and independently before this internal conflict further damages an organization whose stature, effectiveness, and reputation were built over decades. The work of the founding board, subsequent boards of directors, and former leaders David Mixner, Brian Bond, Chuck Wolfe, and Annise Parker should not be so easily undone.
The Victory Fund once commanded the admiration, confidence, and financial support of countless people—including me. I hope the board recognizes what is at stake and acts before that legacy is lost.
(Correction: An earlier version of this op-ed called for the board to conduct an independent investigation of the allegations. The board did conduct such an investigation.)
William Waybourn is co-founder and the first executive director of the Victory Fund and Victory Institute.
For years, transgender Americans have been told that visibility is important. We should tell our stories, educate people, speak publicly about our experiences and show younger transgender people that a future is possible. I understand that argument because I have participated in that kind of visibility myself. Nearly a decade ago, I appeared in National Geographic’s “Gender Revolution,” in 2017, hosted by Katie Couric. I have written publicly about being transgender, participated in LGBTQ politics and spent years thinking about what it means to transition in America. My history is hardly a secret. But as I have gotten older, I have increasingly found myself wanting something considerably less dramatic: I want the right to be an ordinary man.
That does not mean I am ashamed of being transgender, nor does it mean that transgender activists should stop fighting for our rights. Many of the freedoms I enjoy exist because previous generations of LGBTQ people were willing to be conspicuous when visibility carried considerable personal risk. But equality cannot require permanent visibility. There is a strange expectation placed upon members of minority groups that our lives should contain some larger social meaning. A transgender person who overcomes adversity is called “brave.” Someone who talks openly about transition becomes “inspiring.” Someone who succeeds becomes an example of “trans resilience.” Sometimes those descriptions are deserved and sincerely appreciated. But sometimes I do not want to represent resilience. Sometimes I just want to walk my dogs, sit in a coffee shop with my laptop, complain about Northern Virginia traffic, go swimming, write books and figure out what I am having for dinner. I also want to be able to gossip with my friends in meaningless ways and do off kilter things that resemble fun: axe throwing, bowling, and karaoke.
When I was younger, being transgender occupied an enormous amount of psychological territory. Transition required decisions, explanations and difficult conversations. Other people had questions. My body seemed consequential in a way that other people’s bodies did not. There was always another milestone ahead of me, and for a while it was difficult to imagine reaching a point when gender would no longer dominate my thoughts. Eventually, however, something unexpected happened: life became life again. The questions that occupy me today are increasingly the same mundane questions that occupy millions of other adults. What kind of career do I want? Am I being a good friend? What should I write next? What kind of person do I want to become?
Most strangers who meet me today simply see a man. They do not know my medical history or what I looked like years ago. They don’t know that I looked like a skinny track star, and then was put into the resemblances of a meager nonbinary body. They do not know the chronology of my transition unless I decide to tell them. There is tremendous freedom in that, and I have come to think of it not as deception but as privacy. Nobody introduces himself by providing strangers with a complete inventory of his medical history, childhood insecurities and previous identities. Human beings reveal themselves gradually. Different people know different parts of us, and intimacy develops when we decide that somebody has earned access to more of our story.
Yet transgender people are frequently encouraged to regard disclosure as a measure of authenticity. I no longer believe that it is. There are circumstances in which being transgender matters enormously, and there are others in which it barely matters at all. When I am writing, I want somebody to care about the quality of the sentence. When I am working, I want somebody to care whether I did the job well. When I make a friend, I want that person to discover the complicated human being underneath the surface: my ambitions, flaws, anxieties, ridiculous stories and sense of humor. Being transgender may eventually become part of that conversation, but it does not have to be the first thing somebody knows about me.
That, to me, is one of the least discussed promises of equality. For decades, LGBTQ people fought for the right to be seen because invisibility was often enforced through shame and discrimination. Visibility therefore became a form of liberation. But perhaps successful visibility should eventually produce another freedom: the freedom to become unremarkable. A gay couple should be able to bore their neighbors with complaints about their mortgage. A lesbian should not have to become an ambassador for lesbianism whenever she enters a room. A transgender man should not have to turn his body into a public seminar about gender. He should occasionally be allowed to be some guy. Transgender people, in a sense, should also have the right to be flawed: sometimes we yell at our romantic counterparts, and other times we get fired from jobs for being obnoxious. But we are only human, just like you.
There are, of course, transgender people who cannot or do not want to disappear into ordinary life, and there are young transgender people desperately searching for evidence that adulthood is possible for them. Visible transgender people can provide that evidence. But there should be another story available to those young people as well: you can grow up, transition and eventually spend less time thinking about transition. You can become preoccupied with your career, fall in love, get divorced, write a terrible first draft and spend three days fixing it, worry about your parents, buy groceries and acquire all the wonderfully tedious problems of adulthood.
That might not sound revolutionary, but perhaps that is precisely what makes it meaningful. The ultimate promise of transgender equality should not be that every transgender person becomes visible, celebrated, courageous, or inspirational. It should include the possibility that a transgender man can walk into a room and nobody finds his gender history particularly interesting. He can simply be a man living his life. Increasingly, I think that ordinary freedom is what I wanted from transition all along.
Isaac Amend is a transgender man and writer based in D.C. In 2017, he starred in National Geographic’s ‘Gender Revolution’ documentary. He sits on the board of the LGBT Democrats of Virginia. His author’s portfolio is available at isaacamend.com, and you can catch him on Instagram at: @isaacamend.
