Coming Out as a Muslim in the LGBT+ community

I’ve given talks in the past and written or featured in articles about my journey of coming out as a gay man within my Pakistani Muslim community. Most recently, I did this for this year's South Asian Heritage Month for Transport for London's LGBT+ Network. What I’ve never done before is publicly speak out about my experiences as a Muslim within the LGBT+ community. When the College of Policing's Muslim Network asked if I wanted to contribute something for their #islamophobiaawarenessmonth events, I thought this is an area – Islamophobia in the LGBT+ community - where more awareness is needed and by exposing this prejudice, those who are non-Muslim LGBT+ or those don’t have a faith can learn to be allies for Muslim LGBT+ people.

At the beginning...

Of course, racism and prejudice exist in the gay community – why wouldn’t it? But when I first encountered the gay scene, I thought I’d be instantly welcomed. I used to think that because people have gone through prejudice and abuse themselves when learning about their own sexuality and gender identities, all other minorities that have experienced discrimination of some kind would be accepted into the LGBT+ community with open arms. But I very quickly learnt that I was wrong. Black, Asian and other ethnic minorities, religious minorities, women, trans women, disabled and the list goes on have and continue to experience discrimination in the gay community because frankly, it’s no different from society at large. During my early years on the gay scene, either in a gay bar or a gay club or hidden away in an online chat room, the racism was blatant. Commonly it featured in two ways – firstly, as a fetish. White guys really wanting to “taste the exotic” and be with dark skinned men. Whilst on the other side, men would say openly on their dating profiles that No Blacks or No Asians should apply, or they saw Asian men as closeted and probably in arranged marriages. It’s also not surprising in today’s LGBT+ community to come across people who have right wing views particularly on immigrants and immigration and proudly say it’s why they voted for Brexit.

September 11th and its aftermath

But it took me several more years to realise and recognise the Islamophobia that existed and perpetuates itself in different scenarios and conversations within the LGBT+ community. The pivotal moment that this hit me was around and after 9/11. Prior to this a small number of friends who were LGBT+ Muslims and I came together to set up UK’s first LGBT+ Muslim social support group, that today is known as Imaan. I am proud to say this is still going today and is over 20 years old. But back in 1999 we wanted a space where people like us can come together and feel safe and be true to our identities. Back then prior to 9/11 our monthly meetings would hold private secure round circles, sharing food and sharing stories of coming out to our families, some coming out of their marriages to live authentically, or people like me who were in the closet and were facing the dreaded arranged marriage proposals and fearing losing honour and respect from and for our parents and families. We could pray together, discuss Islam and the Qu’ran together, without any challenge or abuse. But whilst at this time we were only focused on what it was like to live as LGBT+ people in Muslim households and communities, 9/11 thrusted us into a space where we were defending our faith and our religion against the rising Islamophobic comments and behaviours in society, and for us, this was more noticeable in the LGBT+ community.

One of my earliest memories of this was during Pride in London. We had always marched in Pride. But shortly after 9/11, when preparing to set off on this trek with our placards that had slogans like “We’re here, We’re Queer, We don’t drink Beer!” and wearing our rainbow-coloured hijabs, one of the stewards who was a young white gay man asked us directly if we were suicide bombers and if we planned to detonate ourselves in the name of Islam during this event. Some challenged him and others rolled their eyes. But it left a bad taste in our mouths for the rest of the parade. I couldn’t help but look at the people around me either in the crowd or the volunteers and wonder what they were really thinking about us. As time has gone on and other atrocities have happened, either close to home (7/7) or in other parts of the world (such as the Orlando nightclub shooting in June 2016) Islamophobic noise has continued to increase within society as well as the LGBT+ community. Allow me to share two other instances to provide further context of Islamophobia in this community. ?

You’re not like the Others

I identify as a Muslim man who is also gay and hard of hearing. I believe my Muslim identity trumps my other intersectional identities because I get my values and beliefs from my faith and these then play out in how I act in a situation or behave towards others. For example, respecting my elders, speaking truth, standing up against injustice and so on comes from my Islamic teachings. I get peace from my faith. It’s why I am proud to call myself a Muslim. And I don’t hide it – either when ordering a drink with friends in a bar I’ll say I don’t drink alcohol, or when I am fasting during Ramzan, or when I take a moment to perform one of my daily prayers, my identity as a Muslim will surface. It’s helped break down barriers – some of these friends and acquaintances may never have come across a Muslim, let alone a Muslim who is openly gay. I've helped educate and inform those around me. I am blessed to have several non-Muslim LGBT+ friends who I call my family and my allies.

What I have found in some instances is I get compared to the ‘others’. The others would be Muslims who are portrayed in the media and the news – the ones that were committing terrorist attacks, beheading people and so on. I would be told that “at least I wasn’t like them.” I guess they mean I had somehow assimilated into British society, that I was different, that I wouldn’t and couldn’t be anything like “them”. They’re right – I am not an extremist and I wholeheartedly abhor such ideologies and actions that are far from my idea of what Islam is and what it stands for. But these suggestions and assertions make me think how Muslims are perceived and how we all come to be lumped together. We’re all seen as anti-Western, homophobic, jihadists out to bring the world to its feet. Why didn’t these gay men see that just like the LGBT+ community, or even closer to home, gay men we are different. That Muslims also had intersectional identities and come in different shapes and forms, with different ideologies and perspectives. A good show to watch on Muslim diversity is the two-part BBC tv series called Muslims like Us.

As I was not seen like the “others”, I was “welcomed” into spaces and “accepted”. But once there, I would find something interesting happen. I was the only one some would speak to about what was happening in the Middle East or ask me about ISIS. I was asked what I thought of them. I was questioned about why Muslims held these views and why there was hatred towards the West. Why did these people live in the UK and why didn’t they just leave if they didn’t like it here. Why Muslims were homophobic and transphobic. What did the Qu’ran really say about the gays. The questions would go on and on.

I would often remind them that homophobia and transphobia exists outside of Muslim communities. I would educate them that the British Empire, as did other colonialists, left behind legislation that today still discriminates and punishes LGBT+ people in ex colonised countries. They would find it hard to understand how this aspect of British history can have any part to play in the homophobia and transphobia that exists within predominantly Muslim communities and countries. I would also inform them that our British government and other Western states openly support countries where LGBT+ people are persecuted and perhaps they might rally their governments to put an end to this international support, aid and trade. But these ‘discussions’ do get tiring, despite the need to keep having them and challenging back. But I do get tired when firstly, I know I won’t change some people’s minds and secondly, I wonder why it’s my responsibility to explain other people’s thoughts and their actions. I find this not only robs me of precious time and energy but if I am not careful, it can impact on my health and wellbeing.

Brainwashed and the need to be saved!

Another experience often comes in the form of pity and a sense of the need to save me from my religion. As I soon as I mention to some that I identify as a Muslim, and a practicing one at that, I get the look and questioned and interrogated “why follow a faith and a God that calls homosexuality a sin and sends gay people to hell”. But despite replying about the peace and values I get from my faith, some see me as brainwashed and feel that because I was born into, and raised in a Muslim environment, I needed saving. One time when on a date with a Middle Eastern man - who had rejected Islam and was now an atheist – we spent the entire two hours with him trying to convince me that there was no space for me in Islam and I was deluding myself if I thought otherwise. He wanted me to wake up and not to waste my life. He just could not accept that I chose to be a Muslim and chose to practice my faith. I was not being forced into anything. I can’t choose to be brown, and I can’t choose to be Deaf/Hard of Hearing, but I choose to be a Muslim because of what it gives me and has given me including my sense of purpose and my sense of journey in this world.

Conclusion

To conclude, Islamophobia needs to be challenged wherever it exists and in relation to this piece, Islamophobia within the LGBT+ community. More work needs to be done to raise awareness and more needs to be done to tackle the fear that exists towards Muslims. The media and current political languages and behaviours are not helping. We need people to be allies to enable people like me to be safe enough to be ourselves. It’s why spaces such as Imaan were created and still exist today or why some felt the need to have an LGBT+ Muslim Pride. Inclusive spaces are more needed today than ever before within the LGBT+ community and these need to recognise and embrace the intersectionality that exists within our community. Whilst places like Imaan provided spaces then for British born Queer Muslims and may this provision continue, over time we're finding more and more of such spaces are needed for other minorities such as Muslim trans women and Muslim LGBT+ asylum and refugee applicants. The current political climate at home and abroad show that LGBT+ rights are being dismantled and as this erosion happens, the minorities will be the first to experience the exclusion and we need to be ready to fight for their rights to be their authentic selves otherwise eventually, these forces will come for the rest of us. Let’s stand up against Islamophobia. Let’s stand in solidarity. Peace.

Some links to other Queer Muslims talking about Islamophobia in the LGBT+ community

Islamophobia in the LGBT Community with Muslim LGBT Activists | BK Live - YouTube

The Unicorn Really Exists (and They Are a Muslim Drag Queen) | Il Grande Colibrì (ilgrandecolibri.com)

Being LGBTQ doesn't excuse your Islamophobia (pinknews.co.uk)

LGBT+ Muslim organisations

Imaan: Imaan – The UK's leading LGBTQ Muslim Charity (wordpress.com)

Hidayah: Hidayah LGBT ? Gender, Sexuality and Islam

Inclusive Mosque Initiative: Inclusive Mosque Initiative - An inclusive space of worship

Queer Muslims: https://londonqueermuslims.com/

Helpful list of resources including reading material can be found here: Education ? Hidayah LGBT+

Also see the Queer Muslim Project: https://www.intomore.com/features/queer-muslims-open-lives-struggle-acceptance/?fbclid=IwAR0cxPKqKYQT9Q4qUKJbQTc8DfY39KMGQ1ZixVwqjPNomccTzpATX8ElRyI