Palestine, the global LGTBQ community, and the future of activism.
The global LGBTQ community has now reached a point that celebrations of Pride mark the month of June across the world. Yet this also begs a number of pressing questions, including whether a global queer community exists in the first place, what is exactly meant by “pride,” and what types of events are privileged this month? Furthermore, who has the ability to define these terms and to make these decisions? Examining the contemporary intersection of queer rights and the question of Palestine provides insights on the promise—and limits—of global LGBTQ politics.
Queer Palestine and the Empire of Critique », my book on the transnational queer Palestinian solidarity movement, was published by SUP in 2020. In it, I examined events relevant to the movement reaching the year 2018. Thus, while much has remained constant over the past four years, much has also changed significantly.
My ethnography revealed the potential of global queer solidarity across lines of difference. There are shared struggles against patriarchy, homophobia, racism, and colonialism that tie LGBTQ activists together despite disparate geographies and positionalities. At the same time, the realities in Palestine are similar to contexts elsewhere, in that queer agency is intimately connected to socioeconomic status, political and religious ideologies, family and education background, urban and rural divides, and other factors. These conditions shape whether one is able to lead a life free from structural and physical violence in the face of homophobia. While privileged queer people in Ramallah and New York each benefit from the forces of cosmopolitanism, the former must contend with life under military occupation while the latter live under a sovereign state.
LGBTQ Palestinians are not homogenous; there is a heterogeneity of views that they espouse on whether the notion of pride is even relevant in Palestine. Plenty of queer Palestinians are affectively and materially invested in the rainbows, glitter, resistance, mobilizations, and fabulousness throughout the month of June. And many other queer folks in Palestine do not identify with these currents at all due to a wide range of reasons, from feelings of alienation from white Western dominated LGBTQ discourses and agendas, to the challenges of trying to survive Israel’s brutal system of oppression. Additionally, there are numerous folks who constantly oscillate between embrace and disavowal of what has come to be known as Pride Month.
Queer organizers around the world continue to contend with the issue of what kind of LGBTQ politics to advance. Will it be the radical, confrontational, intersectional activism that defined Stonewall, or the elitist and neoliberal organizing that operates within the parameters of the status quo (such as recruiting LGBTQ American soldiers to serve in imperial wars in the Middle East)? Other minoritized communities, such as Black Americans, have had to grapple with the allures and risks of respectability politics. Tailoring one’s message and resistance to become palatable to hegemonic power helps reconstitute one’s agency, especially as queer citizens demand rights and recognition from the state and broader society. However, the specter of being captured, and co-opted, by the traps of heteronormative logics and agendas are always looming. In many contexts, breaking away from existing paradigms altogether in order to call for—and ultimately achieve—dignity is a fundamentally queer political project.
As the queer movement in Palestine continues its advocacy, both domestically and internationally, to resist colonialism and homophobia, new and young activists are increasingly demanding a seat at the table.
Within the Palestinian landscape today, the young, brilliant, and fiery figure of Mohammed El-Kurd provides a window to an emancipatory vision that eschews respectability politics, and is therefore, in many ways, quintessentially queer. He and his family, including his fellow activist twin sister Muna El-Kurd, in East Jerusalem have suffered directly from the injustices, including forced displacement, of Israeli state-sponsored settler forces of ethnic cleansing and colonization of Palestinian neighborhoods in the Occupied Territories. In 2021, Time selected Muna and Mohamed El-Kurd as among the world’s most 100 influential people due to the global prominence of their activism. As a child growing up in Jerusalem, Mohamed began engaging international audiences, sharing his story in English using media and film. He studied art in college in the United States, returning to Palestine where he amassed a remarkable social media following, drawing attention to the violences faced by his community in real time. He is also a gifted poet, having recently published a breathtaking book of poetry, Rifqa.
El-Kurd’s love for words has served him well, particularly as his eloquence shines on a global scale. Although still in his early 20s, he has been hired by The Nation, becoming the first Palestine-dedicated correspondent of a major US news outlet. He has recently gone on to address the United Nations. In his appearance before the UN, El-Kurd wore casual instead of business attire, opening his speech with satirical commentary on the inefficacy of the UN in holding Israel accountable for its human rights violations against the Palestinian people. The path that El-Kurd is paving, not only for himself but also for Palestine more generally, defies the conventional logics, terms, and forms of disciplining that world powers have imposed on Palestinians. As a young voice challenging settler colonialism, patriarchy, and respectability politics, El-Kurd’s approach is refreshingly queer, and a source of pride for his nation.
Yet not everyone shares my appreciation for this trailblazer. As I write this piece, El-Kurd is enduring two simultaneous campaigns of hate. On one hand, there is Germany’s persistent anti-Palestinian racism that has led to his disinvitation from speaking at the Goethe-Institut there. On the other hand, virulent homophobia in the Arab world has led to his character assassination on social media. El-Kurd’s ability to defy all odds provides comfort to his followers and supporters that he will not only get through the backlash against his rising prominence but that he will only emerge stronger and his voice even more powerful. While El-Kurd has problematized the notion and optics of icons, reflecting a deep humility underlying his public charisma, there is no doubt that he has now become a queer Palestinian icon.
As the queer movement in Palestine continues its advocacy, both domestically and internationally, to resist colonialism and homophobia, new and young activists are increasingly demanding a seat at the table. A truly queer path forward—one that we can be proud of—must continue to nurture and enfranchise the rising generation. In that way, El-Kurd provides a model—and hope—for disenfranchised individuals and communities
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