Quinn Lazenby for The McGill Daily
What does a burly redneck Republican have in common with a flamboyant gay man?
The answer, say some, is a shared political vision. A perplexing trend has emerged across the Western world, where gay voters are supporting ultra-conservative movements. In the last two years alone, Gays for Trump mobilized in America, Germany’s AfD championed a lesbian politician, Alice Weidel, as its leader, and Marie Le Pen wielded the largest gay constituency of any party in the 2017 French elections. But why are gay men rallying for parties known for being anti-gay? What could possibly attract homos towards white nationalism? It’s a phenomenon that Jasbir Puar has dubbed “homonationalism.”
Ultimately, homonationalism is about using queer issues as a façade to justify racism. For instance, after the 2016 attack at Pulse nightclub in Orlando, President Trump framed his anti-Muslim rhetoric as a homonationalist defence of vulnerable queers. By pink-washing his xenophobia, Trump’s racism was rebranded with a rainbow veneer. Of course, politicians like Trump are not genuinely concerned about the LGBTQ+ community, but rather are attempting to sanitize nationalism for the 21st century. J. Lester Feder describes homonationalism as “racism dressed up in liberal drag, helping make nationalism respectable again in the West.”
Trump snatched the strategy of populist pink propaganda from his European counterparts, who have been brewing homonationalism for more than two decades. In fact, the first politician to forge an alliance between the gay community and the Right Wing was Dutch provocateur Pim Fortuyn. Before his sensationalized assassination in 2002, Fortuyn grabbed headlines for his blatant racism and crass sexuality. His shocking tactics, such as describing the taste of semen in a televised interview and defending his policies with quips like “I’m not racist. I have friends in all the colours of the rainbow… I sleep with them,” laid the foundation for the weaponization of queerness in ultra-conservative politics.
One might assume that only assimilated, masculine gay men would find acceptance within the chest-thumping, rifle-toting macho culture of the Right. You’d expect that the queerest of queers would be shunted from white supremacist rallies. Oddly, however, Fortuyn’s flamboyant, hypersexual character served as a perfect tool, and foil, for the anti-immigrant agenda. A stream of controversial quotes proved to be the perfect fodder for headlines, soon sparking support for Fortuyn’s outrageously “honest” and charismatic persona. Fortuyn’s spin-doctor, Kay van de Linde, remarked, “people felt, ‘if he’s that honest about his sex life — something I would never have the guts to discuss on television — he’s got to be honest about the other stuff too.’” Within the Dutch political arena, Fortuyn’s Islamophobia was perfectly tailored for a country that prides itself on its sexual progressiveness. His brazen sexuality encouraged supporters to feel progressive whilst rallying to ban Muslim immigration. Furthermore, Fortuyn’s queerness absolved voters of the guilt that is typically attached to supporting blatantly racist politicians. Sarah Wildman describes the rationale of his supporters, “if you’re willing to back a man who brags about sleeping with Arab boys, how much of a bigot can you really be?”