In a blog for the International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia and Transphobia, activist Dumiso Gatsha considers what this year’s theme of “the power of communities” means when it comes to supporting grassroots organisations working towards liberation for LGBTQIA+ communities, in a world that is increasingly hostile to their rights.
This month’s “Pan African Conference on Family Values” drew prominent media coverage after civil society had long petitioned against it. The ultra-conservative gathering took place against a backdrop of global funding cuts, anti-LGBTQIA+ laws and increasingly regressive state-sponsored policies for sporting codes and bathroom use. Solidarity in this context remains a challenge. Grassroots organisations such as Success Capital – working on issues regarded as taboo and discriminated against, or considered un-African – remain on the periphery, facing challenges to get diverse funding and public acceptance.
Advocating for LGBTQIA+ rights, the end of gender-based violence, or improving sexual and reproductive health and rights outcomes remains a challenge across the region. There is a clear need for solidarity as sunshine, where everybody deserves some. The following four areas are critical to understanding the urgent need for solidarity with LGBTQIA+ communities.
1. State-sponsored injustices are thriving, in an anti-rights climate
The US’s executive orders on only two genders and the more recent UK Supreme Court’s definition of womanhood have emboldened anti-trans, anti-queer and anti-rights religious fundamentalists who have occupied governments, professional institutions of power, multilateralism and broader international civil society. These reactionary forces have emerged as pushback against decades of progress in women’s and LGBTQIA+ rights. Rooted in longstanding policing of women, these movements are creating an environment where anything that does not align, meet or serve patriarchy often begets violence. And, glaringly, they are often driven from outside Africa: Western governments and anti-rights movements continue to influence narratives, policies and resources across our continent.
The deterioration of democracy often starts with the subjugation of women and LGBTQIA+ people. Restrictive abortion laws, poor working conditions, low political participation and regressive judicial pronouncements reflect how patriarchy continues to shape our lives. Discrimination is further aggravated for those with disabilities, the displaced, imprisoned, those living with HIV, in poverty and/or engaged in sex work. Our presence as LGBTQIA+ people in any setting challenges these regressions. Our existence alone is a form of resistance. There are spaces where we are never invited, accredited or even remotely engaged, including in regional and global policy making forums.
2. Colonialism casts a shadow that cannot be ignored
Classism, ableism, and racism are the offspring of colonialism. We can no longer simplify or ignore the structural influences and history that have brought us to this point globally, geopolitically and in many polarised societies. Regressive developments in western countries, which also happen to be overseas development assistance donor countries, are a reminder that colonialism never ended.
Beyond inheriting laws that criminalise us, these countries’ financial systems, global debt architecture and multinational corporations continue to exploit and extract from our people with few restrictions or repercussions – even in post-independence democracies. Accountability is squarely to investors, which reflects how philanthropy is only ever accountable to its benefactors. This squeezes space for transformative change or decolonial intervention.
We also see this in knowledge production, and dissemination and in who benefits from this knowledge. Africans are often subjects and never owners of research. This reflects how narratives are shaped in evidence-based policy making structures and mechanisms. Similarly, social media serves as a frontier of polarising news and disinformation, especially since the removals of safeguarding and human-rights-related provisions. This has fuelled disinformation and hate speech against LGBTQIA+ people, often leading to violence. Such disinformation and hate is not a new phenomenon but a longstanding one, used as an electioneering tactic and which thrives on religious rebuke and hostile populist narratives. Solidarity should be rooted in challenging narratives and strengthening visibility of LGBTIQIA+ people in their diversity.
3. The economic system is rooted in individualism, not ubuntu or care
Capitalism continues to suffocate us. As many communities reel from the impact of global funding cuts, high state debt interest payments and punitive measures against poverty; the boot of capitalism is unrelenting. An unjust global economic system remains on all our necks whilst we grapple with democratic, economic and rights challenges. The boot remains invisible, with an incentive for many, including those who should be allies, to wear it to progress in socioeconomic hierarchies. So the middle manager abuses his power, overworking blue-collar staff without overtime payments. The intermediary and donor advisor fund hoard resources while smaller non-profits shut down or can’t pay decent salaries. A foundation president is happy to sign off a US$10,000 grant to a partner while earning at least 10 times more than that annually. Many non-profit leaders, corporate employees, journalists and activists alike are working themselves out of struggle and towards the convenience of safety and comfort. This is the individualism that neoliberalism promotes, with any “wins” skewed to those that ‘work hard’, network well or assimilate to upward social mobility.
4. Philanthropy and aid systems must help the grassroots to flourish
Taller trees deny other flora and fauna sunshine. So enablement, resources, and access to decision makers is often left to a trickle-down effect. Anti-rights groups have captured power and institutions well, backed by significant resources and often without such hierarchies. That gives them rich resources to influence and take advantage of a society characterised by high unemployment, underemployment, corruption and unethical leadership. Defending human rights by comparison is unattractive, costly in many ways (reprisals, exclusion) if not considered elitist. Yet, rather than addressing inequities and funding gaps for smaller organisations, funders impose barriers to meaningful enablement. This includes eligibility criteria; stricter conditions; who’s contextual narratives are respected; and man-made bureaucracy. Funding cuts have only aggravated inequities: focusing on pre-existing partners and blocking new ones while nourishing those considered to have “higher spending capabilities”. For some reason, there is a belief that smaller organisations cannot spend effectively, despite many in the anti-rights movement proving otherwise. That leaves us with a philanthropy and aid system that penalises those who most need support.
True liberation lies in collectivism
It seems we are our own enemies of progress, left to fight for the trickle-down crumbs whilst our oppressors are fully provided for. No liberation has ever come from one individual or a few institutions. No peace has ever been sustained by giving audience and voice to only one rebel group. Only we can love ourselves enough to embody the spirit of “ubuntu”. My home language, Setswana, has a saying: “motho ke motho ka batho”, interpreted as “personhood through community”. Those around you, standing with you and experiencing the same reality as you.
The difficult work of including everyone and ensuring equity cannot be achieved by a “blessed” or select few. Systems of supremacy do enough to perpetuate this under the guise of meritocracy. In these systems, LGBTQIA+ people are denied prosperity, equality and opportunity through loopholes and deemed to have different values. We are at a crossroads that demands humility and self-love. A love that can only come from within, to outpour on to others. Stigma, discrimination, injustice and violence cannot exist where love sits.
That love is institutionalised where LGBTQIA+ rights are respected and safeguarded. Where mutual aid, respect for differences and co-creating solutions for community can be emboldened, in partnership with those most affected. This year’s IDAHOBIT theme of “the power of communities” signals the importance of removing all ‘boots’ from our necks, minds and institutions. I am a proud African, born in Zimbabwe, educated in South Africa and a citizen of Botswana; I also cannot demarcate myself or my experiences from existing beyond the gender binary. Solidarity can only thrive when it is rooted in love, reflected in the diversity of ubuntu and is respectful to the Pan African ideals that liberated previous generations from historic injustices.
Author
This post is published to mark this week’s International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia and Transphobia (IDAHOBIT) on May 17