After 40 years of gains on homophobic law repeal, is there any more
need for a separate identity?
By Peter Tatchell, human rights campaigner
Today’s gay pride parade in London celebrates 40 years since the
formation of the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) in Britain. This was a
watershed moment in British queer history. For the first time,
thousands of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) people
stopped hiding in the closet and suffering in silence. I was one of
them. We came out and marched in the streets, proclaiming gay pride
and demanding our freedom.
This had never happened before. In 1970, many LGBT people were ashamed
of their homosexuality and kept it secret. Some wished they were
straight and went to doctors to get ‘cured’.
This internalised homophobia was not surprising. Forty years ago, the
state branded homosexuality as unnatural, indecent and criminal; the
church condemned LGBT people as immoral, wicked and sinful; and the
medical profession classified us as sick, abnormal and disordered.
LGBT people were sacked from their jobs, evicted from flats, refused
service in pubs, arrested for kissing in the street and had their
children taken from them by the courts. There was no legal protection
against such discrimination. It was lawful.
The Gay Liberation Front was the first major challenge to this
heterosexism. Inspired by the Black Power slogan “Black is Beautiful”,
it proclaimed "Gay Is Good." Back then, it was very radical to suggest
there was anything good about being gay. Most people thought queers
were mad, sad and very, very bad.
Even liberal-minded heterosexuals often supported us out of sympathy
and pity. Many reacted with horror when GLF declared: “2-4-6-8! Gay is
just as good as straight!” Those assertive, affirmative words – which
were so empowering to queers everywhere – frightened the life out of
smug, arrogant straight people, who had always assumed they were
superior.
GLF’s rebellion against heterosexual supremacism kick-started a still
on-going revolution in public opinion, laws and cultural values. It
overturned the conventional wisdom on matters of sex and human rights.
Our joyous celebration of gayness contradicted the uptight straight
morality that had ruled the world for centuries and which had
oppressed heterosexuals as well as homosexuals.
While most politicians, doctors, priests and journalists saw
homosexuality as a social problem, GLF said the real problem was
society’s homophobia. Instead of seeking to justifying our existence,
we demanded that the gay-haters justify their bigotry.
GLF's unique style of ‘protest as performance’ was not only incredibly
effective, but also a lot of fun. Christian morality campaigner Mary
Whitehouse had her Festival of Light rally in Central Hall Westminster
invaded by a posse of gay nuns. They staged a kiss-in when one of the
speakers, Malcolm Muggeridge, disparaged homosexuals, saying “I just
don’t like them.” The feeling was mutual.
There were also more serious acts of civil disobedience to confront
the perpetrators of discrimination. We organised freedom rides and
sit-ins at pubs that refused to serve ‘poofs’ and ‘dykes’. I disrupted
a lecture by the eminent psychologist, Professor Hans Eysenck, when he
advocated the use of electric-shock aversion therapy to ‘cure’
homosexuality.
In the 40 years since GLF, queer people have become more visible than
ever before and most of the public are relaxed about same-sex
relationships. All major homophobic laws have been repealed, apart
from the ban on same-sex civil marriage. Positive images of LGBT life
abound on television. Politicians and entertainers are openly gay. The
police are serious, at last, about tackling homophobic and transphobic
hate crimes. Gayness is no longer classified as an illness.
At this pace of progress, in the long term, homophobic prejudice and
discrimination are doomed. It is then that the LGBT community will
face an unexpected challenge.
LGBT identity is largely a defence against homophobia. Faced with
victimisation, we had to defend our right to be LGBT and create our
own community institutions to fill the void created by an uncaring,
bigoted society. But when legal equality and social acceptance have
been won, will there be any need for a separate LGBT identity and
community? If one sexuality is not deemed more valid than the other,
much of the raison d’être for distinguishing between gay and straight
disappears.
This is the ultimate paradox. GLF spawned a movement that created the
conditions for its own dissolution. The more we secure the acceptance
and human rights of LGBT people, the less we need a separate gay
identity, community and movement. In a queer-friendly society, the
differences between homo and hetero lose their significance. When no
one cares who is gay and who is straight, there will be no point in
maintaining a distinction between the two sexualities. Labelling
people and behaviour becomes irrelevant. The movement becomes
redundant.
Forty years after GLF pioneered a trailblazing freedom agenda, I am
still celebrating LGBT Pride. But my eye is firmly fixed on the real
prize: a world beyond gay and straight.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/jul/02/40-years-gay-pride
need for a separate identity?
By Peter Tatchell, human rights campaigner
Today’s gay pride parade in London celebrates 40 years since the
formation of the Gay Liberation Front (GLF) in Britain. This was a
watershed moment in British queer history. For the first time,
thousands of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) people
stopped hiding in the closet and suffering in silence. I was one of
them. We came out and marched in the streets, proclaiming gay pride
and demanding our freedom.
This had never happened before. In 1970, many LGBT people were ashamed
of their homosexuality and kept it secret. Some wished they were
straight and went to doctors to get ‘cured’.
This internalised homophobia was not surprising. Forty years ago, the
state branded homosexuality as unnatural, indecent and criminal; the
church condemned LGBT people as immoral, wicked and sinful; and the
medical profession classified us as sick, abnormal and disordered.
LGBT people were sacked from their jobs, evicted from flats, refused
service in pubs, arrested for kissing in the street and had their
children taken from them by the courts. There was no legal protection
against such discrimination. It was lawful.
The Gay Liberation Front was the first major challenge to this
heterosexism. Inspired by the Black Power slogan “Black is Beautiful”,
it proclaimed "Gay Is Good." Back then, it was very radical to suggest
there was anything good about being gay. Most people thought queers
were mad, sad and very, very bad.
Even liberal-minded heterosexuals often supported us out of sympathy
and pity. Many reacted with horror when GLF declared: “2-4-6-8! Gay is
just as good as straight!” Those assertive, affirmative words – which
were so empowering to queers everywhere – frightened the life out of
smug, arrogant straight people, who had always assumed they were
superior.
GLF’s rebellion against heterosexual supremacism kick-started a still
on-going revolution in public opinion, laws and cultural values. It
overturned the conventional wisdom on matters of sex and human rights.
Our joyous celebration of gayness contradicted the uptight straight
morality that had ruled the world for centuries and which had
oppressed heterosexuals as well as homosexuals.
While most politicians, doctors, priests and journalists saw
homosexuality as a social problem, GLF said the real problem was
society’s homophobia. Instead of seeking to justifying our existence,
we demanded that the gay-haters justify their bigotry.
GLF's unique style of ‘protest as performance’ was not only incredibly
effective, but also a lot of fun. Christian morality campaigner Mary
Whitehouse had her Festival of Light rally in Central Hall Westminster
invaded by a posse of gay nuns. They staged a kiss-in when one of the
speakers, Malcolm Muggeridge, disparaged homosexuals, saying “I just
don’t like them.” The feeling was mutual.
There were also more serious acts of civil disobedience to confront
the perpetrators of discrimination. We organised freedom rides and
sit-ins at pubs that refused to serve ‘poofs’ and ‘dykes’. I disrupted
a lecture by the eminent psychologist, Professor Hans Eysenck, when he
advocated the use of electric-shock aversion therapy to ‘cure’
homosexuality.
In the 40 years since GLF, queer people have become more visible than
ever before and most of the public are relaxed about same-sex
relationships. All major homophobic laws have been repealed, apart
from the ban on same-sex civil marriage. Positive images of LGBT life
abound on television. Politicians and entertainers are openly gay. The
police are serious, at last, about tackling homophobic and transphobic
hate crimes. Gayness is no longer classified as an illness.
At this pace of progress, in the long term, homophobic prejudice and
discrimination are doomed. It is then that the LGBT community will
face an unexpected challenge.
LGBT identity is largely a defence against homophobia. Faced with
victimisation, we had to defend our right to be LGBT and create our
own community institutions to fill the void created by an uncaring,
bigoted society. But when legal equality and social acceptance have
been won, will there be any need for a separate LGBT identity and
community? If one sexuality is not deemed more valid than the other,
much of the raison d’être for distinguishing between gay and straight
disappears.
This is the ultimate paradox. GLF spawned a movement that created the
conditions for its own dissolution. The more we secure the acceptance
and human rights of LGBT people, the less we need a separate gay
identity, community and movement. In a queer-friendly society, the
differences between homo and hetero lose their significance. When no
one cares who is gay and who is straight, there will be no point in
maintaining a distinction between the two sexualities. Labelling
people and behaviour becomes irrelevant. The movement becomes
redundant.
Forty years after GLF pioneered a trailblazing freedom agenda, I am
still celebrating LGBT Pride. But my eye is firmly fixed on the real
prize: a world beyond gay and straight.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/jul/02/40-years-gay-pride
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