The man doesn’t fully remember what happened that night in late August, because he was knocked out cold. But he knows from the videos, the ones he has watched over and again, what the men shouted as they beat him.
“We’ve warned you a hundred times this is forbidden in the land of the lord,” they chanted.
The man was with friends in Om, a bar in Mar Mikhaël, a Beirut district with a pulsating night scene. Inside, a drag comedy performance was underway, with performer Emma Gration performing a lip sync of Beyoncé’s song Heated.
Outside, a group began to form – members of Soldiers of God, a thuggish Christian hard-right organization that has defaced rainbow billboards and harassed Syrian refugees. Emma Gration cut short the show, urging safety.
The man and his friends decided to leave. As he walked through the door, he began to receive blows from behind. He lost consciousness. The Globe and Mail is not using his name because he fears reprisals.
It was not just a violent physical blow. It was a shock to a community that had for many years found in “Gayrut” a haven for people whose sexual orientation and gender identity would earn them prison, or worse, in other Arab countries.
“This was kind of out of the blue,” the man said. “This was a turning point.”
Convulsed by crises and now contemplating the possibility of fresh war with Israel, a country famed for its tolerance is now confronting a new hostility.
In the past few months alone, the local Islamic Cultural Centre has sought to dissolve Helem, a pioneering LGBTQ advocacy organization; local cinemas banned the airing of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse because of the brief appearance of a transgender pride flag; the Lebanese Culture Minister proposed a law to criminalize homosexuality; the Education Minister removed a “snakes and ladder” game from a school because it included a rainbow logo; another armed group demanded that a school in Tripoli repaint an exterior deemed to have rainbow-like colours; men with AK-47s shot into the air on a raid at a beach bar in Tyre they claimed was throwing a party for LGBTQ people; and protesters were attacked during a March for Freedoms.
Hassan Nasrallah, the powerful leader of the Shia Muslim militant group Hezbollah, declared that gay people, “even if they do it once ... are to be killed.”
The sudden shift has come after years of turbulence.
A financial and economic crisis stripped people of savings and stripped the government of much of its function. A horrific port explosion killed scores of people, and physically demolished many of the Beirut bars and art galleries that had formed a unique centre for LGBTQ cultural production in the Arab world.
Lebanon’s LGBTQ community, says Helem executive director Tarek Zeidan, has become a convenient scapegoat for a political class that can no longer effectively govern.
“It underscores just how important stability is for you to talk about civil and political rights,” he said.
“We are at the tail end of a revolution, an explosion, one of the worst economic crises ever, and now probably a war. So obviously the most marginalized are those that are going to be the first to feel the brunt.”
Some of the attacks came in response to a proposal by some lawmakers to decriminalize homosexuality, one that has shown little sign of succeeding.
It has also been fuelled by a cultural hurricane blowing out from Western countries – Canada, with its large Lebanese diaspora population, key among them – that has made landfall here, kindling anger over gender and identity issues.
In July, Lebanese posted videos to social media from Mississauga protests against gender-related instructions in schools, with a warning about similar “efforts to pass these intellectual poisons” on to schools in Lebanon. When accusations surfaced that gender-related content was being taught in local schools, the country’s education ministry said such material “is present in Canada” but not in Lebanon.
In late September, Ottawa protests demanding the elimination of sexual orientation and gender identity curriculum similarly gained attention in Lebanon, where one person described them as demonstrations against deviance and sexual content in schools.
“The argument was, ‘Don’t let them decriminalize same-sex relations, because if you do, this is your future – look at what they’re doing in Canada,’” Mr. Zeidan said.
Lebanon’s LGBTQ community has been caught up in broader attacks on those willing to question the country’s power structures.
Earlier this year, the Beirut Bar Association amended its code of ethics to require permission from the association’s president before making public comment on legal issues – and banning any criticism of its president. In August, comedian Nour Hajjar was brought in for military interrogation after joking about destitute soldiers moonlighting as delivery drivers. He was subsequently arrested for a 2018 comedy bit called “an insult to Islam.”
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In July, authorities arrested a teacher who had accused political leaders of corruption.
It’s raised questions about who the state is prepared to protect.
“There’s lawlessness,” said one of the owners of the Om bar, who recounted how police arrived after the August attack but made no arrests. The Globe is not identifying the person because they fear further reprisals.
Soldiers of God openly accepted responsibility, with a representative decrying drag performers in a comment to Lebanese daily L’Orient-Le Jour: “They don’t have the right to promote deviance, children could have seen them.”
After the attack, Emma Gration heard that the group was looking for her. She went into hiding for a week.
She has performed drag for nine years but has not done a show since. Instead, she has contemplated searching questions about what it means.
“The rate of homophobia, the rate of bullying online has grown exponentially,” she said. “Are we slowly losing our freedoms?”