Queer n There	Queer n There Archive

Gay pride and geopolitics have lately been on a collision course-- with marches banned or attacked recently in Russia, Poland, and Estonia by politicians aiming to score points for being populist, nationalist, or just straightaway "moral." In Riga, Latvia, on July 22, anti-gay protesters pelted celebrants with tomatoes and shit as they left a pride day Anglican service-- the main event in lieu of the march that was nixed by the city. And in Bursa, Turkey, on August 6, police stood by as hundreds of football hooligans prevented a gay parade and threw rocks at the offices of the organizers, Gökkusagi ("Rainbow").

T

View our poll archive

he litany goes on. But no gay pride march has been as geopolitically star-crossed as Worldpride Jerusalem-- which, muted and reduced-- nonetheless pulled itself off August 6 to 12-- sans parade but otherwise without incident. Originally set for 2005-- five years after the first Worldpride in Rome-- last year's event had been called off. It wasn't just the uproar of ecumenical homophobia from Jerusalem's religious leaders, or the condemnation by its orthodox Jewish mayor, or the resulting municipal ban. The deciding factor was civic disorder throughout Israel wreaked by the religious right, opposed to the state's withdrawal of Jewish settlers from occupied Gaza. After a court scolded city officials and un-banned the march last year, Jerusalemites came out in droves for a local pride celebration-- with a record crowd of some 10,000. All was well until a knife-wielding ultra-orthodox attacker blustered into the parade, stabbing three marchers, one seriously. (In February, 30-year-old Yishai Schlisel received a 12-year sentence for attempted murder.)

The prospect of Worldpride Jerusalem 2006 met another chorus of religious condemnation and more threats. In July, an anonymous flyer offering 20,000 shekels to anyone who would murder a Worldpride marcher circulated in Jerusalem's ultra-orthodox Mea Shearim quarter. Shortly after, Israel descended into open war with Lebanon, on top of a fresh bombardment of Gaza. Staging Worldpride in anything like its intended international and celebratory form again became untenable. Jerusalem has so far stayed beyond the range of the rockets and missiles lately raining down on Israel's north. But this July, Worldpride organizers-- Jerusalem's Open House gay community center-- again canceled the march, though left in place other parts of the program. Participation this year numbered in the hundreds rather than the 10,000 organizers were counting on, but still drew people from Europe and North and South America for confabs on health and human rights. But with religion Jerusalem's stock-in-trade, Worldpride's centerpiece was an interfaith conference on homosexuality, drawing a plurality of Jews, but representatives of sects Christian and Muslim, as well.

"I spoke with many young people who told me that as a result of what they heard of how Allah and gays could be reconciled, they are considering returning to the fold of Islam," says writer Irshad Manji, author of The Trouble with Islam Today. "This was one of the few times that reconciliation was stated so unapologetically and gleefully."

Barred at the gate

Yet most of the Muslims within driving distance of Jerusalem had no chance of joining the conversation. This was part of what rankled Worldpride's critics, not all of whom wore clerical robes. Worldpride's slogan "Love Without Borders" was bitterly ironic, they said, given how severely Israel restricts movements of Palestinians living in the occupied territories.

"We don't agree that Worldpride can happen in a place where many people cannot attend-- Arabs from the Arab world and Palestinians from the West Bank and Gaza," says Rauda Morcos, an activist with Aswat ("Voices"), a group of Palestinian lesbians, and a past speaker at Jerusalem's pride march. Indeed, Israel is now barring entry even to US passport holders of Palestinian descent.

"While members of the Lebanese queer group Helem are turning their community center into a shelter for refugees, their counterparts in Jerusalem are preparing for a film festival and beach party," Kate Raphael of Queers Undermining Israeli Terrorism (QUIT) told Electronic Intifada. "What is the message that this sends to the world about what our community cares about?"

Critics of Worldpride were not always warmly received. In June at San Francisco's pride parade, police-- saying they were enforcing organizers' rules-- ordered members of QUIT (www.quitpalestine.org) to stop distributing blindfolds to would-be Worldpride attendees-- eye coverings sardonically intended to help visitors not "see" the occupation.

Others said the Worldpride should go on despite Jerusalem's contested status, and Israel's disproportionate killing of Palestinian and Lebanese civilians.

"Boycotting oppressive Israeli institutions is justified, but boycotting a celebration of queer life, culture, and human rights is a reactionary stance that plays into the hands of homophobes," declared Peter Tatchell, of UK's Outrage.

Worldpride's sponsor-- Jerusalem Open House -- says it is a rare gathering place for all gay people in Jerusalem, irrespective of community or religion. The Open House's Arabic-language counseling service and web pages are among the only gay resources geared toward Palestinians. Whether considered in light of the long-standing occupation or the Lebanon war, Worldpride 2006's parade-free roster of earnest meetings wasn't exactly an orgy of flippant frivolity.

Early on August 9, as a gesture toward the Palestinians who couldn't cross the barriers and checkpoints, Worldpride participants held a vigil at a portion of the separation fence Israel is constructing. It was one of the few public gestures toward peace happening that morning in the entire Middle East.