No, you can’t ‘save’ queer people by bombing them to death

“Why would you protest for them when they throw people off roofs for being gay?”

As with many Jewish friends who have been aghast at the weaponization of anti-semitism in order to justify Israel’s US-backed ongoing genocide in Gaza and attacks on Lebanon, Syria, and now Iran, I and other queer people protesting these actions have seen the fight for queer rights twisted—almost always, but not exclusively, by straight people—to denigrate our actions over the past year and a half.

“The gay community is persecuted in the Arab World,” the so-called argument goes, “so why would you even stand up for the people there? If you went to Gaza/Iran/Syria/Lebanon etc they would throw you off a roof!”

There are many things wrong with the statement, starting with the weird obsession with roofs, but it’s worth noting that this “gotcha” is almost always put forth with a tone that suggests the speaker is actually fantasizing about it happening. Conservatives love to talk about queer people being put to death—I’m truly surprised that “queer gets thrown off roof while hot MILF watches” is not a fetish channel on Pornhub.

Anyway, the most obvious clapback is, “Well, what is happening to queer people in Gaza right now?” If you think it’s hard to survive as a queer person in a repressive theocratic region, try doing it with bombs falling on your house and tanks shooting at you when you try to get food. Even if the premises of the anti-protestors were fact, it’s Israel and the US who are actually murdering gay people in Gaza at the moment. This is why images of Israeli troops planting Pride flags there are so gross. Kind of difficult to live as your authentic self when you’re dead!

Now we’re hearing the same weak sauce being warmed up to justify “regime change” in Iran. The US must bomb Iran so queer people can be free, and queer people should just shut up about it, or something. Iran—and close US ally Saudi Arabia, by the way—do indeed top the list of most repressive places for queer people in the world, and you can be sentenced by the government to death for being gay. This is obviously terrible! Existing as a queer person in a place like Gaza, or Iran, or (Christian) Uganda, or, hey, the country that just affirmed the legal torture of trans kids, can be very complex and stressful.

This situation is not exclusive to certain societies and governments: I grew up in the segregated Detroit suburbs during the downturn of the auto industry; people being beaten and murdered for being gay was not an uncommon occurrence. As an Arab person, I was doubly aware of the local persecution of the time. And being gay in the US could get you arrested, in your own home, and jailed just 22 years ago.

Here’s a great video of local Palestinian DJ Subeaux talking about the complexity of navigating multiple identities:

Putting aside that phrases like “the Arab world” and “the gay community” are incredibly reductive and obscure the intricacies of lived reality (the vast “Arab world” has many vibrant queer scenes, and rich people everywhere have less trouble living openly compared to those struggling to survive); putting aside that the whole “throwing gay people from roofs” thing is something only ISIS, an organization that sprang directly from the US bombing and invasion of Iraq, is documented as doing; putting aside that 19 months of invasion and bombing that have killed tens of thousands of innocent Gazans have not freed the Israeli hostages; putting aside that although Israel claims to be a bastion of gay rights, same-sex marriage, like interfaith marriage, is still illegal there…

Putting aside all of this, queer people are incredibly resilient and have always found ways to express themselves under oppressive and threatening circumstances. Twenty years ago for a Bay Guardian piece on global nightlife, when the Internet was a more hopeful place of connection, I spoke with a gay person from Tehran, who described to me the dazzlingly sophisticated networks queer people there had for meeting up at various cafes and house parties undetected by the local authorities. It was a bracing story of quickly deleted chat rooms, under-the-radar drag shows, and an undeniable will to be among one’s people, even for a snatched hour or two.

People are not their government, especially in authoritarian contexts. Dynamic economic and cosmopolitan conditions often give rise human rights movements within repressive regions, a grass roots phenomenon that cannot be forcefully imposed by Western countries. Until then, queers form their own networks of survival and mutual aid. Shredding these delicate tapestries with weapons of war obliterates whatever progress has been made.