How it Feels to Be a Queer Palestinian in Exile
Some say you shouldn’t support the Palestinian struggle if you’re queer. Have you found your place as an activist?
Of course, but it’s by embracing who I am that I was able to do so. I had to acknowledge my privilege, my suffering, my resources, my mental health – then I could find my place.
I have to say, I’ve often felt most accepted by women who wear a hijab. Similarly, I’ve met many cis-het men who treated me with more respect than gay guys.
What was their problem?
I think there are many traumatised people in the LGBTQ+ community who reject people as a reflex, as if they have to project the hatred they experienced onto their peers. There’s also a lot of racism in parts of the rich, white, gay community.
In Europe, people think of the Middle East as very homophobic. Having lived in both regions, what do you think?
I can only speak from my experience: In Jordan, homosexuality is not legally penalised, but socially, it’s different. I was relatively accepted by my family. It comes back to this notion of privilege, since my uncles, aunts, cousins have travelled around the world and read a lot of books.
European homophobia and Arab homophobia are just different, but neither is worse than the other in my opinion.
Do you still have hope for Palestine?
Yes. I feel like the world is becoming more aware, but maybe I’m in my bubble. All I’m trying to do is understand what makes me happy, like an animal trying to avoid suffering. But first, you have to ask yourself, ‘What will make me feel worse: talking about Palestine, human rights, feminism, or bottling up all my feelings?’ I don’t want to follow those who’ve chosen the second solution. Their way of life, their health, their relationships with money, themselves and others, depresses me.
What’s the key to happiness in your opinion?
Living as authentically as possible.