Three hundred and seventy-seven ways of being; Queep Perspectives on Law Workshop (S.O.A.S.)

Making theatre is about asking questions. In my mind to leave stories unresolved, moments unexplained and avoid overt directorial commentary on themes and issues, creates a richer more challenging experience for the audience. This production is about awareness raising on the one hand, but it also seeks to ask what do these lives and stories tell us about how globalisation and sexual politics play out within the individual. The academics task on the other hand is more concerned with answers; to describe, to map out, to catagorise. At this series of seminars all of the speakers were painfully aware of the problematic and self defeating effect of trying to do this. A description soon becomes a label that needs to be subverted, a map to solid and reductive, cast you categorisation too wide and the needs of minority groups are ignored, too narrow and they are excluded. After the first set of talks one academic stood and empathised with the speakers;

“Things solidify as soon as they come out of our mouths, but we need to unsolidfy them at the same time.”

The morning I attended was fascinating for many reasons, not least the information and development of my understanding, but also as insight into the strange world of the academia.

Queer Muslim Identity

The first talk was given by an earnest young man, with a love of complex academic language, and was delivered at speed in a thick slavic accent. I can't say I grasped much of it however his main point was this, and it was picked up again by a later speaker; that queer Muslims find themselves caught between the hetronormativity of their religious background, which has little room sexual otherness, and the homonormativity of the West, which has little understanding for Muslim identity. This idea was developed in a later talk on Dutch "homoemancipation" and how it marginalises queer Muslim groups. Dutch policy focuses funding on mainstream L.G.B.T., and whilst queer Muslim 'liberation' is one of their priorities, ultimately this presents Muslims with having to choose between their religious and cultural identity and their sexual identity, which is this construct is purely in the West/Dutch's possession. In contrast the U.K. government has given balanced funds to the gay Muslim groups (such as the Safra Project), encouraging the development of a distinct queer Muslim identity.

This second talk teetered on the edge of occidentalism. At one point it was asserted that Dutch homosexuals were nostalgic for a time when there were no Muslims in the Netherlands, which seemed like a huge generalisation at best and actually rather homophobic at worst. Quite rightly the speaker was challenged on this during the Q and A, and whilst she asserted that she only meant to criticise the Dutch government, it demonstrated that on a day devoted to demanding better understanding of non-western cultures our own culture was often presented in overly simplified terms.

Homophobia in Uganda

Of all the talks given during the course of the morning this was the most interesting, and delivered in a clear and conversational style (as a director I can never get away from critiquing presentation technique).

The current debate on homosexuality in Uganda is based on two paradoxical stand points. One that homosexuality is an Un-African Western import, and the other that it is homophobia that is the U.S. funded colonial import. These claims are not only moral arguments, but also nationalist. Of course homosexual behaviour and homophobia have always been in all cultures, and do not have specific geographical loci, but specific historical factors give emphasis to one or the other over time.  To say that US evangelicals are importing homophobia is empty conspiracy theory, on a par with saying Hollywood movies are importing homosexuality.

To give a historical example in Iran Persian culture and Sufi poetry is full of homoeroticism. Thriugh out the 1800's the modernising Iranian elite came into greater contact with the conservative attitudes of  Europe and sought to explain this as metaphorical rather than literal. Equally men displaying affection between each other on the street was explained as homosocial, rather than having any sexual overtones. So rather than homophobia being implanted by colonialism, it was actually developed by the Iranian intelligentsia in defense of the idea of Iran as a savage and uncultivated land (leading to exactly the opposite situation in the 21st century).

In Uganda a similar thing is occurring. Uganda has a long complex history with homosexuality,  of which attitudes toward the1880's king of Buganda, Mwanga II,  serve as a focus. Mwanga offered a powerful resistance to colonial forces, in particular christian missionaries, and was known to engage in sex acts with men. He is eulogised as a hero of Ugandan national interest, whilst at the same time the Ugandan martyrs, 45 page boys Mwanga had executed for refused to renounce their new found christian faith, are held up as Christian heroes. He therefore holds a very ambiguous place in Ugandan history, and is discussed in both positive and negative terms depending on whether it is from a nationalist or religious perspective. The U.S. evangelical right, in the search for a more 'authentic' construct of christian morality (the speaker pointed out this is one of the few area where a proportion of the US population see a non-western culture as superior and guiding), are certainly bolstering this view of him as an anathema of human desire against devine order with funding. But the formulation of U.S. christian right meets easily influenced Africans is reductive. The current Ugandan crisis evolved over a long period of time, with a basis in a complex and paradoxical history.

Summery of other discussions.

The other talks did not have quite the same relevance to the project, but offered some interesting points none the less. One speaker used the example of Berlin skinheads as a microcosm of sexual and political complexity, as he discovered during his time living there that the rightwing/leftwing skinhead binary did not translate obviously into a straight/gay binary. The talk was relaxed and enjoyable to listen to, but didn't seem that insightful. An enormously glamorous speaker who spoke with a gloriously thick Italian accent ('etro-sek-syoo-al-it-ay) attempted to make the point that gay marriage was not a new concept, and that marriage's history is full of "queer" versions. However her point was based largely on the fact she had discovered over 40 african tribal cultures that allow for marriage between women, which seemed a little thin and based on miscellany rather than any profound analysis. I did feel for her though, as she was the subject of a brutal academic take down by a pompous audience member, who was against the idea that the state should have any power to recognise or validate any relationship. This fell into that other academic trap of ideological purity over the practical reality, in that the vast majority of the population still want to have their relationship validated and recognized by the state.

I stared out of the window at a hot guy smoking a cigarette on the wall outside during a talk on Mexico City's abortion laws I'm afraid, but was back into it for a talk entitled "Three hundered and seventy-seven ways of being- sexualness and the Indian self." The speaker, rather wonderfully, referring to "him" self in "his" biography as s/he or herim. Essentially the talk was a reiteration of the familiar idea that binary gender and labels of sexuality are inadequate, but placed them in the context of Indian cultural history. The idea that sexuality is a fixed part of our identity is, after all, a relatively recent one but has become the dominate model of sexual being. Indian culture has always been more about the flow of desire, and in light of this has recently scrapped colonial anti-sodomy laws and now officially recognises "other" as a third gender. This is about the right to express and enjoy sexualness rather than choose a sexuality in the western sense.

I hung around for the afternoon talks, but their focus looked to be increasingly on law rather than culture, so slip away into the life of central London's streets with much to think about. I found an internet cafe in Holborn and began writing up what I had heard. In the seedy gloom at the back of the shop two dark skinned men in filthy clothes slept contorted over blank computer screens. The owner eventually barreled down to eject them, and with their poor English they could offer little protest. Who they were, I can't make assumptions, but they were obviously destitute and in a strange land. The fine ideas expressed by the well dressed theoreticians in that sunny S.O.A.S. room were not just so much academic waffle, but arguments determined to further a more humanitarian understanding of ourselves, and not as remote from the scene in the internet shop as it might at first seem.