War resistance in apartheid South Africa
Author: Daniel Conway

This book explores the gendered dynamics of apartheid-era South Africa's militarisation. It analyses the defiance of compulsory military service by individual white men, and the anti-apartheid activism of white men and women in the End Conscription Campaign (ECC), the most significant white anti-apartheid movement of South Africa. Militarized, white masculinity was a dominant model of masculinity that white men were encouraged to perform and white women were encouraged to admire. One of the most consistent features of pre-1994 South African society was progressive militarisation, in terms of both military preparedness and activity and the social conditions necessary for war making. The book then analyses the 1984 Citizenship Act as evidence that conscription was a transformative political act for the men who undertook it. The wider peace movement is also analysed as a transgressive sub-cultural space where radical political subjectivities could be formulated. The ECC's use of art, music and satire is assessed as a means to critique the militarisation of South African society. The role of women in the ECC, the feminist activism and the ways in which constructs of white femininity were addressed are also analysed. The book also explores the interconnections between militarisation, sexuality, race, homophobia and political authoritarianism. Finally, it conceptualises the state as premising its response to objectors on a need to assert and reinforce the gendered binaries of militarisation.

This book explores representations of queer migrant Muslims in international literature and film from the 1980s to the present. It brings together a variety of contemporary writers and filmmakers of Muslim heritage engaged in vindicating same-sex desire from several Western locations. The book approaches queer Muslims as figures forced to negotiate their identities according to the expectations of the West and of their migrant Muslim communities. It coins the concept of queer micropolitical disorientation via the work of Gilles Deleuze and Félix Guattari, Sara Ahmed and Gayatri Gopinath. The author argues that depictions of queer Muslims in the West disorganise the social categories that make up contemporary Western societies. The study covers three main themes: queer desire across racial and national borders; Islamic femininities and masculinities; and the queer Muslim self in time and place. These thematic clusters examine the nuances of artistic depictions of queer Muslims’ mundane challenges to Western Islamophobia and Islamicate heteronormativity. Written in a scholarly but accessible style, this is a timely contribution to the controversial topic of Islam and homosexuality, forging understanding about the dissident position of Muslims who contravene heteronormative values and their equivocal political position in the West.

Sonja Tiernan

the comments and you know people who make a living writing opinion pieces for newspapers’.16 O’Connor followed this up by asking O’Neill to be specific when he questioned him: ‘Who are they?’ O’Neill replied, ‘Oh well the obvious ones. You know Breda O’Brien today, oh my God you know banging on about gay priests and all. The usual suspects, the John Waters and all of those people, the Iona Institute crowd.’17 The discussion then proceeded to the complications of defining homophobia. O’Neill clarified that ‘homophobia can be very subtle … it’s like the way you know

in The history of marriage equality in Ireland
Matt Cole

’s 156 Cole_01_Ch1.indd 156 29/01/2011 12:07 Wainwright and Jeremy Thorpe opposition to Thorpe to homophobia, but this should be discounted. Even some close colleagues of Wainwright’s are prepared to acknowledge that disapproval of homosexuality is at least plausible as an element in his motivation, and that he probably regarded it as sinful.2 The main local paper in his constituency – which in its own words ‘has always had a high regard for Mr Wainwright’s judgement of affairs’ – challenged Thorpe’s critics to ‘say what it is they are most concerned about’, and

in Richard Wainwright, the Liberals and Liberal Democrats
Alberto Fernández Carbajal

assumptions about European and Near Eastern sexualities. Simultaneously, the filmmaker’s Turkish inception enables his challenge to dominant Islamist and Kemalist homophobia in contemporary Turkey. This double orientation towards Western and Eastern audiences is most subversively articulated in a derelict Turkish bath and the family house containing it, where private and public spaces are queered, and where personal and communal discourses and desires are visibly confronted, particularly the systemic character of Turkish homophobia. I undertake here a rereading of Hamam

in Queer Muslim diasporas in contemporary literature and film
Exploring gender, anti-racism, and homonormativity in Shamim Sarif ’s The World Unseen (2001) and I Can’t Think Straight (2008)
Alberto Fernández Carbajal

she became a filmmaker. 1 Her debut novel, The World Unseen , first published in 2001, constitutes an exploration of racial tensions and Muslim homosexuality during South African apartheid, and as such it is partly inspired by Sarif’s diasporic family history. Sarif’s literary efforts are eminently intersectional, invested as she is in taking to task the racist imperative as well as the attendant homophobia of South African apartheid and of the nation’s white and coloured communities. Although a generation removed from Sarif’s personal

in Queer Muslim diasporas in contemporary literature and film
Matrilinearity, Sufism, and l’errance in the autofictional works of Abdellah Taïa
Alberto Fernández Carbajal

undertaken in Morocco, where systemic homophobia continues to be rife. Taïa’s diasporic plight lends his writing a melancholic tone, torn as he is between his longing for Morocco and his self-imposed exile, as between his fascination with Paris and his disenchantment with the French Republic’s treatment of its ethnic minorities, particularly Muslims. 4 Alexandru Matei ( 2014 ) recognises a double cultural identity in Taïa: he lives in Paris, where he writes about Morocco from his current French cultural milieu, albeit, I would add, with a decidedly postcolonial

in Queer Muslim diasporas in contemporary literature and film
Bryce Lease

politicized arena of the parliament or publicly subsidized theatres is directly connected to the perceived over-impact of homosexuals on Polish culture. Wałęsa’s statement exposes a lack of grounding allotted to gay people in the national imaginary and further condenses a bedrock of state-sponsored homophobia in public discourse that had not been as apparent throughout most of the 1990s, at a time when sexuality was not recognized as a political category that underpinned civil liberties and homosexuality in particular was all but excluded from the civic sphere. Queer

in After ’89
Abstract only
Queering Islam and micropolitical disorientation
Alberto Fernández Carbajal

Muslims are the victims of systemic homophobia or of state retribution, such harsh living conditions, often intersecting with issues of war or financial scarcity, sometimes entail migration to countries where homosexual acts are not punished by the state: notably in Europe and North America, where, in turn, perceptions of their incompatible sexual orientations and religious identities can result in internal conflict. This study argues that the fight against homophobia and Islamophobia ought to be a joint one: it is only through a double critique that we can start

in Queer Muslim diasporas in contemporary literature and film
HBO’s True Blood
Michelle J Smith

Blood’s rich title sequence knowingly invokes the homophobia of the real-world Westboro Baptist Church, whose members are notorious for picketing the funerals of gay people and their placard slogan ‘God Hates Fags’. 30 The vampire in Gothic fiction is able to simultaneously evoke anxieties about both racial and sexual transgression. H. L. Malchow yokes together the

in Open Graves, Open Minds