Content uploaded by Suhraiya Jivraj
Author content
All content in this area was uploaded by Suhraiya Jivraj on Jun 14, 2023
Content may be subject to copyright.
The Dutch Homo-Emancipation Policy and its Silencing
Effects on Queer Muslims
Suhraiya Jivraj •Anisa de Jong
Published online: 15 July 2011
Springer Science+Business Media B.V. 2011
Abstract The recent Dutch homo-emancipation policy has identified religious
communities, particularly within migrant populations, as a core target group in
which to make homosexuality more ‘speakable’. In this article we examine the
paradoxical silencing tendencies of this ‘speaking out’ policy on queer Muslim
organisations in the Netherlands. We undertake this analysis as the Dutch govern-
ment is perhaps unique in developing an explicit ‘homo-emancipation’ policy and is
often looked to as the model for sexuality politics and legal redress in relation to
inequalities on the basis of sexual orientation. We highlight how the ‘speakability’
imperative in the Dutch homo-emancipation policy reproduces a paradigmatic,
‘homonormative’ model of an ‘out’ and ‘visible’ queer sexuality that has also come
to be embedded in an anti-immigrant and specifically anti-Muslim discourse in the
Netherlands. Drawing on the concept of habitus, particularly in the work of Gloria
Wekker, we suggest that rather than relying on a ‘speakability’ policy model, queer
Muslim sexualities need to be understood in a more nuanced and intersecting way
that attends to their lived realities.
Keywords Queer Muslims Lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT)
Homonationalism Equalities Intersectionality Multiculturalism Habitus
Dutch homo-emancipation policy
S. Jivraj (&)
School of Social Sciences and Law, Oxford Brookes University, Oxford, UK
e-mail: sjivraj@brookes.ac.uk
A. de Jong
School of Law, Bristol University, Bristol, UK
e-mail: anisadejong@gmail.com
123
Fem Leg Stud (2011) 19:143–158
DOI 10.1007/s10691-011-9182-5
‘It is impossible to be emancipated if you cannot be yourself in public’ (OCW 2007:18).
In November 2007 the Dutch Ministry for Education, Culture and Science
1
launched the policy document Gewoon homo zijn or Just being gay.
2
This document
sets out a Dutch ‘homo-emancipation’ policy for the period 2008–2011 placing two
core values on the political and public agenda: the social acceptance of
‘homosexuals’ and the freedom to be out (2007, p. 5).
3
The policy lists five
operational goals, the first—and most dominant—of which is to promote the
bespreekbaarheid, namely the ‘speakability’ or ‘discussability’
4
of homosexuality
within ‘various groups of the population’ (2007, pp. 13–14).
5
Although not
explicitly identified, it is clear from the policy document and the way in which it is
responding to the perceived threat to liberal Dutch values from ‘Muslim
homophobia’, that Moroccan and Turkish (Muslim) communities are the core
target group where homosexuality is to be made more ‘speakable’.
Drawing on interviews and work with Dutch social policy experts as well as our
own experiences of working within a UK based queer Muslim group (the Safra
Project),
6
we examine the paradoxical silencing tendencies of a speaking out policy
on queer Muslims. We undertake this analysis in relation to the Netherlands as the
Dutch government has developed an explicit homo-emancipation policy and it is
often looked to as the model for sexuality politics and legal redress in relation to
inequalities on the basis of sexual orientation.
7
However, we would like to throw
caution on any impulses to reify the Dutch model. Indeed, we undertake this
analysis with a view to learning lessons for future policy developments in other
1
Ministerie voor Onderwijs, Cultuur en Wetenschap (OCW).
2
We have translated the Dutch term gewoon as ‘just’, in the sense of simply or ordinary, but the term
also refers to being ‘normal’. All translations from Dutch have been undertaken by co-author Anisa de
Jong.
3
It is beyond the scope of this paper to discuss the problematics of some of the terminology used in the
policy, such as the notion of emancipation. With regards to the terms homo and homosexuals, the policy
explains that these terms are intended to refer to lesbian women, gay men, bisexuals and transgender
people (OCW 2007, p. 5). A later progress report (2010, discussed below) introduces the term LHBT
(lesbisch, homo, biseksueel en transgender) in line with the more common internationally used lesbian,
gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT). Therefore, where appropriate we will translate the term
homosexual in the policy document with the term LGBT.
4
The term bespreekbaar literally translates as ‘speakable’ but is usually translated in English as
negotiable, debatable or discussable. The term can be used to refer to a public speaking out, an ability to
communicate or engage in dialogue with others and a willingness to negotiate or come to an agreement.
5
The other four operational goals are: to address violence and intimidation; to stimulate national and
local alliances; to contribute to a gay-friendly environment at school, in the workplace and in sports, and
to play an active international and European role (2007, pp. 13–14).
6
Both authors were co-founders of the Safra Project. From 2001 to 2005 Suhraiya Jivraj was co-
ordinator of the organisation and Anisa de Jong was the Asylum co-ordinator. For more information see
www.safraproject.org, accessed 10 November 2010. We also wish to thank Tamsila Tauqir, co-founder
and current director of the Safra Project for her comments on this paper. We would also like to thank the
referees and editors for their insightful comments. All errors are our own.
7
A prime example is Dutch policy allowing same-sex marriage and adoption by same-sex couples.
144 S. Jivraj, A. de Jong
123
national contexts such as the UK on issues of sexuality, race and religion.
8
In particular we seek to highlight how the ‘speakability’ imperative in the homo-
emancipation policy reproduces a paradigmatic, homonormative
9
model of an out
and visible queer sexuality that has also come to be embedded in an anti-immigrant
and specifically anti-Muslim discourse in the Netherlands. This political climate
currently prevalent in the Netherlands is indicative of what Puar (2007) has termed
homonationalism, which—in the Dutch context—is apparent in the ways the Dutch
nation is associated with sexual freedom whilst Muslims are viewed as oppressive
and intolerant of (queer) sexualities.
10
We begin by outlining the political context that forms the background to the homo-
emancipation policy, specifically highlighting how Dutch tolerance of homosexuality
has come to be part of a nationalist discourse and identity. We then examine how the
policy seeks to impact upon queer Muslims focusing on two key problematics. Firstly,
we explore the structural or practical issues that affect the capacity-building of queer
Muslim grassroots organisations, for example, in relation to the (non-)distribution of
funding. We suggest that the funding structure and practice reveals a power dynamic
embedded within a nationalist discourse, which effectively seeks to incorporate queer
Muslims within a particular homonormative model.
Overlapping with this point is a second and more conceptual problematic, that is
the policy’s focus on ‘speakability’ that implies a specific notion of what it means to
be gay, namely as something that is outwardly and publicly defined, or ‘out and
proud’. This is contrasted with sexualities that are experienced differently and/or that
are less visible or outspoken. We suggest that a speaking out policy, embedded within
homonationalist sentiment as well a homonormative framing of same-sex sexualities,
fails to grapple with the complex subjectivities of diasporic queer Muslims. In the
final section, we draw on the work of Gloria Wekker who—using Bourdieu’s notion
of habitus—seeks to understand the diverse ways in which sexualities might be lived
or inhabited. Her research highlights how migrant sexualities can be understood
through modes of ‘doing’ rather than modes of ‘speaking’. We therefore suggest that
Wekker’s work provides gender and sexuality studies with a helpful framework, both
for how we might better understand queer sexualities outside of homonormative/
nationalist dynamics, as well as with a view to formulating policy in ways that can
attend to complex queer lived realities more reflexively.
8
We recognise there are significant historical, cultural, structural and other differences among Western
European countries with regards to their relationships with their Muslim populations, but suggest there
are sufficient similarities for the silencing tendencies that we identify to be relevant across national
contexts.
9
For a more detailed account of homonormativity see Duggan’s work (2002). See also El Tayeb (2011)
on how the homonormative model comes to be part of a neo-liberal economic agenda. Rahman (2010)
provides a summary of critiques of homonormativity within queer theory.
10
Two white gay men are depicted on the front cover of the policy document, presumably indicative of
the emancipated gay subject. This can be juxtaposed with other images depicting brown ‘ethnic’ faces as
closeted and un-emancipated, for example on the advertising postcard for the ‘speakability’ campaign
which has a brown face covered by a hand with only the eyes showing. A discussion of the visual
representations of gayness in the Dutch context is beyond the scope of this paper.
The Dutch Homo-Emancipation Policy and its Silencing 145
123
Dutch Homo-Emancipation, Homonationalism and the Need for a Third Wave
A number of scholars have highlighted the rise of a nationalist discourse around the
limits of ‘Dutch tolerance’ as well as the limits to the capacity of Muslims to respect
liberal Dutch secular values, including liberal attitudes to homosexuality (van der
Veer 2006; Vasta 2006; Butler 2009; Mepschen et al. 2010). The juxtaposition of a
homo-friendly Netherlands and homophobic Muslims resonates with what Puar
(2007) has termed ‘homonationalism’. She uses this term in her book Terrorist
Assemblages: homonationalism in queer times to refer to forms of lesbian and gay
politics or governmental discourse that invoke a distinction between the ‘West’ and
Islam.
11
This debate is of course not exclusive to the Netherlands, as Puar (2007),
Haritaworn (2008) and Kuntsman (2008) have demonstrated in their work on the
convergences of sexuality and nationalist discourse around the war on terror.
12
However, as Mepschen et al. argue, the Netherlands can perhaps be understood as
distinct from similar trends in other Western European countries in having had a
social history in which gay sexuality came to be ‘normalised’ (2010, p. 964).
Indeed, the Dutch so-called first wave of homo-emancipation achieved equalisation
of the age of consent in 1971. A second wave pursuing further legal and social
equality was considered to have been completed with the introduction of same-sex
marriage in 2001 (OCW 2007, p. 11).
13
In her 2009 George Mosse lecture, Gloria Wekker refers to what she perceives as
a widespread ‘nostalgia’ for these idyllic, uncomplicated good old days, a nostalgia
that in ‘gay circles’ takes on the specific form of a longing for the days ‘when there
were no Muslims’ (2009, p. 1). This time in the Dutch imaginary, she argues is
epitomised by a completed women’s and gay emancipation, now under threat with
the seeming failure of Moroccan and Turkish Muslims to integrate and respect
Dutch values. Wekker may perhaps be overstating the existence of homonostalgia
within Dutch gay circles, for example, marginalising the important anti-racist work
being conducted by lesbian and gay activists.
14
She is nonetheless, pointing to an
11
Puar’s critique of this distinction goes beyond a critique of orientalist thinking in Said’s (1979) work,
in that she specifically points out how this discourse circulates in ways that effectively associate the West
with sexual freedom, whereas Islam comes to circulate as a culture that is oppressive of sexual freedom.
See also Mepschen et al. (2010).
12
This orientalist and homonationalist discourse has been discussed in relation to a number of other
contexts such as gay refugees (Long 2009; de Jong 2008) and gay activism in Germany (Haritaworn et al.
2008,2011). See also, Asad (2006), Brown (2006), Mahmood (2009) and Razack (2008) for analyses of
nationalist and state discourse on Muslims as a threat to modern ‘Western’ values.
13
Timeline by the International Homo/Lesbian Information Centre and Archive, available: http://www.
ihlia.nl/dutch/algemeen/Tijdbalk accessed 10 November 2010. Although we acknowledge the terminol-
ogy of ‘progress’ through ‘waves’ is problematic, our text reflects its usage in the Just being gay policy
(OCW 2007, p. 11).
14
Perhaps another key point that Wekker does not sufficiently address in her lecture is the complexity of
the underlying issues, such as reactions against racism, exclusion and violence, material inequality and a
widespread anxiety felt and experienced by many different groups within society, as well as the
exploitation of these sentiments by right wing politicians such as Fortuyn and Wilders. Thanks to Peter
Dankmeijer for this critical observation of the lecture. See for example the work of EduDivers, a Dutch
Expertise Centre on Education and Sexual Diversity, http://edudivers.nl/english, accessed 10 November
2010.
146 S. Jivraj, A. de Jong
123
important underlying racialising and nationalist discourse against which a third
wave of Dutch homo-emancipation policy was developed. Wekker argues that
Muslim homophobia has become almost emblematic of the broader socio-political
problematic within the Netherlands and suggests that the acceptance of homosex-
uality has become a ‘litmus test’ for the immigrant population as to whether they
have entered modernity and consequently whether they should be allowed to belong
within Dutch society (2009, p. 7).
15
Within this political context, the Just being gay policy can be viewed as
instrumental to bringing about a third wave of homo-emancipation. Although the
policy target groups are ostensibly worded in generic terms (as ‘orthodox religious
and belief communities’
16
; ‘ethnic minorities and schools’) it is apparent that
Muslims, especially Muslim youth, are one—if not the—core target group where
social acceptance of homosexuality is thought to be in need of improvement (OCW
2007, p. 15).
17
The policy clearly reflects this political context for example, with
section titles such as ‘the idyll has been disturbed’ (OCW 2007, pp. 10–11) which is
interspersed with statistics showing that hostility is particularly strong amongst
Turkish and Moroccan (that is Muslim) youth.
18
Moreover, the term ‘disturbance’
alongside statistics on the attitudes of ethnic minorities, clearly invokes the
nostalgia that Wekker describes, particularly as they imply that it is the arrival of
‘others’ that has disturbed the supposedly pre-existing ‘idyll’ of a gay-friendly
Netherlands.
As a number of commentators have observed, the disturbance which led policy
makers to re-focus attention on lesbian and gay issues were sparked by a series of
events but perhaps most ostensibly by controversial statements on homosexuality
made by a Muslim religious leader, Imam El Moumni, in 2001.
19
His comments led
to a heated media and public debate that also fuelled the wider anti-Muslim
discourse following 9/11 that same year, as well as feeding into the broader anti-
immigration agenda of the already popular Dutch right wing and gay politician
Pim Fortuyn (van der Veer 2006). Although Fortuyn was murdered in 2002 by an
environmentalist, his political supporters took his political agenda further into
15
For critiques of the Dutch citizenship test (inburgeringstest) that requires a particular kind of homo-
tolerance to be displayed see Bracke (2011) and Butler (2009, p. 130).
16
The document uses the term levensbeschouwelijk, which literally refers to ‘that which concerns a view
on life’; in other words, it refers to a positioning with regards to the meaning, value of, and moral
guidance in, life. The term includes religious and non-religious views, and is broader than the term
philosophy which is mainly grounded in rationality.
17
The full policy document does cover a broader range of social groups that require attention, such as
youth in general, and orthodox streams within all religions. It also mentions the vulnerable position of
lesbian women and transgender people. However, our point here is that Muslims are identified through the
language and examples used, as a particular social group where promotion of ‘speakability’ is urgently
required.
18
The impact of the Antillians’ attitudes is mitigated by additional statistics showing that they constitute
a much smaller ethnic group than people from Turkish and Moroccan descent which form the largest
immigrant groups. The other large ethic group are those from Surinam; however, their acceptance level of
homosexuality is shown to be close to the acceptance level of Dutch autochthons, therefore causing less
concern (OCW 2007: 10).
19
For a detailed listing (and analysis) of El Moumni’s and other Dutch imam’s comments, see for
example Mepschen et al. (2010).
The Dutch Homo-Emancipation Policy and its Silencing 147
123
stronger anti-Muslim, racist and antidemocratic directions.
20
In November 2004
public debate on the ‘problematic of Muslim integration’ ensued once more when
the Dutch film maker Theo Van Gogh was murdered by a Dutch-Moroccan Muslim
(Buruma 2006). The specific issue of homosexuality again came to signal the failure
of Muslim integration into Dutch society in 2005 after a series of homophobic
attacks by Moroccan youth. These events heightened tensions between the Dutch
autochthon and Muslim allochtone
21
population, and escalated concerns over what
became increasingly seen as a failing policy of multiculturalism.
22
This specific Dutch context enabled a particularly strong and ongoing political
capitalisation of sexuality in relation to the perceived multicultural crisis. Indeed,
since 2010, one of the parties that positioned itself to inherit much of Fortuyn’s
constituency forms part of the Dutch coalition government: the Partij voor de
Vrijheid (PVV) (The Freedom Party) led by far right wing and anti-Muslim
politician Geert Wilders.
23
In addition, the Dutch context also facilitated the
mainstream LGBT movement’s claims for the need to urgently address Muslim
attitudes to homosexuality, and placed them in a strong position to lobby for
governmental funding. This socio-political backdrop seems to explain the Just being
gay policy’s implicit, yet apparent, focus on the Muslim community as a site for
third wave homo-emancipation.
20
For a more detailed discussion of Pim Fortuyn’s political agenda and anti-immigration, anti-Muslim
discourse, as well as the developments after his murder see Van der Veer (2006) and Vasta (2006).
21
The Dutch term to refer to the white Dutch population is autochtoon (autochthon), that is ‘originating
from, or the earliest known inhabitants of, a particular land’ (also aboriginal or indigenous). There is no
English word for the opposite Dutch term allochtoon which refers to originating from an ‘other’ land,
commonly used to refer to the non-white Dutch population.
22
In the UK context, Prime Minister David Cameron also addressed this issue, criticising the ‘doctrine of
state multiculturalism’ to encourage ‘different cultures to live separate lives’, and to tolerate ‘these
segregated communities behaving in ways that run completely counter to our values’. In particular, he
notes how a ‘much more active, muscular liberalism’ is required that does not stand ‘neutral between
different values’ but actively promotes freedoms ‘regardless of race, sex or sexuality’ (notably, he does
not mention regardless of religion). http://www.number10.gov.uk/news/speeches-and-transcripts/2011/
02/pms-speech-at-munich-security-conference-60293 accessed 10 March 2010.
23
In 2007, Wilders called for the Qur’an to be banned and likened it to Adolf Hitler’s Mein Kampf, and
in 2008 Wilders also made a film entitled ‘Fitna’ which accused the Qur’an of inciting violence, and
Islam of being a murderous religion. The film intersperses images of the September 11 attacks with
quotations from the Quran. Like van Gogh’s ‘Submission’, Wilders’ short film caused controversy and
public and political debate ensued on whether the film should be shown, particularly on Dutch state
television. A similar debate took place in England in relation to whether Wilders should be allowed to
enter the country to show his film. Whilst he was refused entry the first time, he was able to enter and was
hosted in Parliament by Lord Pearson of the Independence Party to show his film. See further Butler
(2009, 126), Mepschen et al. 2010, and Siddique and Walker (2009). The PVV’s role in this coalition is to
provide gedoogsteun (‘tolerance- support’). That is to say, they do not hold ministerial positions but have
agreed a ‘governance plan’ with two other political parties who jointly still only have a minority of votes
in Parliament and thus rely on the PVV’s support.
148 S. Jivraj, A. de Jong
123
The Impact of the Dutch Policy on Queer Muslim Organising
The homo-emancipation policy pursues multiple pathways to bring about a third
wave, particularly by making homosexuality discussable amongst groups where this
is (still) a taboo subject or ‘met with great hostility’ (OCW 2007, p. 11). It also
encourages individuals to speak out about their own homosexuality. Coming out,
visibility, tolerance and social acceptance are repeatedly mentioned as being
interdependent with each other as well as with self-emancipation, for example the
policy states: ‘[v]isibility of homosexuals contributes to societal acceptance,
tolerance and understanding’, and ‘[a] tolerant climate is an important condition for
visibility’ (OCW 2007, p. 18).
The document notes how the developments such as a ‘woman with the Islamic
faith’ coming out as being lesbian, something that was previously viewed as
‘unthinkable’, is seen as the ‘next phase’ of homo-emancipation (OCW 2007, p. 11).
In addition, those undertaking this third wave are identified as ‘frontrunners’ and will
be actively supported, because of their important contribution to the promotion of
social acceptance of homosexuality precisely amongst the parts of the population
where this is ‘still very sensitive’ (OCW 2007, p. 11). As such, the individual coming
out and speaking out about their own homosexuality, that is the identification of
oneself as LGBT and communicating this identity to others, is seen as an important
means by which to achieve not only individual emancipation, but also broader social
acceptance of homosexuality.
In addition to encouraging individual emancipation, the policy also seeks to
stimulate a process of dialogue and public debate within civil society on both
national and local levels. The document mentions in particular an ongoing project
called De Dialoog
24
(The Dialogue), which is an alliance between the COC, a
Humanist, a Christian and a Muslim organisation, mainly seeking to engage
religious leaders in a dialogue on homosexuality.
25
The policy also stresses that in
order to have an effective dialogue with the broader Muslim community it is crucial
that faith/cultural based homo-emancipation groups are strong enough to play a role
(2007, p. 23). Financial support is promised to these groups particularly in order to
make homosexuality ‘discussable’ within their broader communities (2007, p. 23).
Given this apparent central role for queer Muslims it is perhaps surprising that the
subsequent progress report published in June 2010 barely mentions Muslims, let alone
24
Interestingly, the project carries the same name as the first gay magazine published in the Netherlands
from 1965: Dialoog, subtitled Tijdschrift voor homofilie en maatschappij (Magazine for homosexuality
and society). www.ihlia.nl/dutch/algemeen/Tijdbalk, accessed 15 December 2010.
25
The COC (Centrum voor Ontspanning en Cultuur: Centre for Recreation and Culture) is the Dutch
national LGBT organisation. The Muslim organisation taking part in the Dialogue project was originally
the Yoesuf Foundation, founded in 1998 working on Islam and sexual diversity. It changed its name
reflecting a broader area of work in 2005 to Educatiecentrum voor de islam en maatschappelijke
vraagstukken (Educational centre on Islam and social issues). It ceased its activities in 2008. See also
below on the Malaika Foundation that formally succeeded it. The Just being gay document also refers to
the activities of a trio of organisations working to improve ‘discussability’ in ‘various ethnic-cultural
circles’: COC, FORUM—the institute for multicultural development, and Artikel 1, a relatively new
institute taking over the work of the national anti-racism and anti-discrimination bureaus (OCW 2007,
p. 15).
The Dutch Homo-Emancipation Policy and its Silencing 149
123
queer Muslims (OCW 2010). It notes that financial support allocated for the capacity
building of self-organised national LGBT organisations went to six groups, five of
which are Christian and only one (Nafar Foundation) Muslim/North-African (OCW
2010, p. 9). The examples and statistics in the section on improving ‘discussability’
also mainly refer to activities by and for Christian communities (OCW 2010,
pp. 14–15). This is particularly striking given that the original policy included no
concrete examples of Christians as a site for third wave homo-emancipation. We will
return below to the implications of the policy apparently having worked better for
Christian groups.
The progress report does mention that the dialogue project (De Dialoog) will
continue (OCW 2010, p. 8), despite the Muslim partner organisation, Yoesuf
Foundation, in this project having ceased its activities in 2008. The organisation was
formally taken over in 2009 as Malaika Foundation, housed by the COC and seeks
to address ‘tensions between sexual, religious and secular citizenship’ within
bi-cultural societies; it therefore no longer maintains a specifically Muslim identity or
a clear independent status to the mainstream Dutch national LGBT organisation.
26
Given that the policy’s third wave imperative mainly sought to facilitate
emancipation amongst Muslims, this raises the question: why are queer Muslims
barely mentioned in the progress report? Several practical problems with the
implementation of the Dutch policy with regards to allochtone groups have been
identified in particular by MOVISIE, the Netherlands’ centre for social develop-
ment.
27
Government funding to support religious and ethnic grassroots groups was
made available through mainstream LGBT organisations, in particular the national
COC. Thus, mainstream LGBT organisations became responsible for the allocation
of funding and for the setting up of support programmes aimed at strengthening—
amongst others—queer Muslim groups.
28
Although of course support from larger
LGBT organisations can at times be productive, a structure of forced cooperation
with mainstream or umbrella LGBT organisations is problematic. Commenting on
the struggles small allochtone groups face, Dankmeijer notes how working within
the Dutch bureaucratic system causes ‘frustrations’, as do issues such as supporting
organisations seeking to receive credentials for the activities of the grassroots
groups (Dankmeijer 2010/1, p. 7).
These observations also reflect the Safra Project’s work in the UK context.
Although we were extremely successful in securing independent trust funding for the
26
Vision statement of the Malaika Foundation, available at http://www.malaica.nl/visie.html, accessed
11 December 2010.
27
MOVISIE’s mission is to promote the participation and independence of citizens by supporting
and advising professional organizations, volunteer organisations and government institutions (www.
movisie.nl/eCache/ENG/1/15/032.html, accessed 10 December 2010). MOVISIE’s role in lesbian and
homo-emancipation is mainly in advising and supporting municipalities and other local and regional
public bodies in improving the situation of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender citizens (www.movisie.
nl/115468/def/home/homoemancipatie/ (in Dutch), accessed 10 December 2010).
28
Interview with Charlot Pierik (Diversity project manager at MOVISIE) and Juul van Hof (MOVISIE
Advisor on LGBT policy issues, gender and social development) on 9 April 2010, Amsterdam. They also
pointed out that funding of education programmes on diversity issues within the Muslim community at
large was distributed via mainstream migrant groups and did not necessarily involve participation of
queer Muslims.
150 S. Jivraj, A. de Jong
123
first two phases of work, the Safra Project was nonetheless under a lot of pressure
from larger LGBT organisations seeking to ‘take it under its wing’; develop joint
projects, or take up the ‘queer Muslim cause’ independently. As funders require all
organisations to demonstrate they are inclusive and diverse, despite some seeking to
do so with ‘good intentions’, an alliance with a queer Muslim group clearly became a
sought after ‘trophy’ and added potential for securing funding.
For any group that is just finding its feet and grappling with a complicated set of
issues, it can be very tempting (and in the Dutch case inevitable) to go along with
such alliances. However, differences in power and conflicting agendas may in effect
undermine capacity building rather than enhance it. In the Dutch context Dankmeijer
notes:
A cooperation whereby the Dutch organisation controls the budget and
allochtone organisations receive unrequested support, is not always the ideal
collaborative relationship. Starting from such a collaborative relationship, it is
difficult for allochtone LGBT self-organisations to position themselves as
equal partners (Dankmeijer 2010/1, p. 7).
Moreover, the prescribed funding and collaboration structure require queer
allochtone groups to compete with each other in securing funding from the
mainstream organisation, which also obstructs the forming of alliances between
them. Pierik from MOVISIE recommends collaboration structures that would
provide queer allochtone groups with more agency and create opportunities for
capacity-building, whilst Dankmeijer also calls for alliances between, and a greater
independent voice for allochtone LGBT groups (Vakwerk 2001/1, p. 7).
These observations highlight the practical obstacles to queer Muslim organising
as well as how mainstream LGBT organisations maintain the power to set the
agenda for capacity building amongst allochtone groups. What is not emphasised
and recognised enough, however, is the impact of mainstream LGBT organisations’
racialised discourse in relation to migrant or ethnic minority populations. This
dynamic arises when, for example, such groups seek governmental funding to
combat anti-gay violence attributed to Muslim youth whilst at the same time
claiming to protect queer Muslims and enhance what is portrayed as their dire
situation.
29
Thus, both the Dutch policy and the surrounding homonationalist
discourse to which it responds stifles the development of queer allochtone groups
themselves and their work, including being able to be critical of the Dutch
emancipation model itself, or indeed of racialised politics within the gay movement.
In short, the power relations inherent in the funding and collaboration structure, in
effect, compounds the complex socio-economic issues already faced by queer
Muslims.
30
29
See for example the very successful campaign by (the politically right wing) Frank van Dalen as chair
of the COC between April 2005 to June 2008, not only in influencing the Dutch governmental policy, but
also in obtaining control over the funding for allochtone ‘selforganisations’ (Van der Linden (2007);
interview with Charlot Pierik and Juul van Hof (see footnote 28); Haritaworn et al. 2008).
30
See further footnote 39 on the socio-economic issues faced by many queer Muslims.
The Dutch Homo-Emancipation Policy and its Silencing 151
123
The Silencing Effects of a Speaking Out and Dialogue Model
A funding and collaboration structure that allows for greater agency and
independence might alleviate some of the practical obstacles to queer Muslim
organising. However, we argue that there is a deeper level at which the Just being
gay policy does not, and inherently cannot, take account of a diversity of queer
Muslim sexualities. Instead, and perhaps ironically, we argue that a focus on
speaking out and dialogue can in itself be silencing.
The expectation on the leaders or those seeking to run self-organised queer
Muslim groups to be out, can become an alienating rather than emancipating factor,
as Chafik Gadir’s comment below illustrates. A focus on coming out exacerbates the
pressures already felt by queers of colour to choose between their culture and
kinship loyalty on the one hand, or the Dutch culture, where taking on a gay identity
and openness is seen as a freedom ideal, on the other (Dankmeijer 2010/1, p. 7).
Thus, in effect, the requirement to be out can necessitate a choice: either to be gay
or to be Muslim.
31
As Chafik Gadir from the organisation Nafar states:
I was the first Moroccan gay man who was openly ‘out’. But no one was
thankful. In Moroccan circles they think it is very strange and a bad thing. But
also Dutch gays sometimes say to me: you are not a real Moroccan gay,
because they are not ‘out’ about it’ (Dankmeijer 2010/1, p. 7).
32
This denial of authenticity as an out queer Moroccan in Dutch circles illustrates
firstly how being Muslim and being gay are assumed to be mutually exclusive
spheres: you are either Muslim and therefore not gay (or at least not out), or you are
gay and therefore out (and thus no longer really Muslim). Secondly, and related to
this, the quote illustrates the transformative process, that coming out is supposed to
have: namely through a coming out (if done ‘properly’) a Muslim can perhaps
become acknowledged as gay, but not as both gay and Muslim (or Moroccan).
Those who do seek to find a space ‘in between’ are in policy terms problematically
referred to as dubbelbinders (double binders) (Dankmeijer 2010/1, p. 7), referring to
their struggle to stay ‘bound’ to what are almost always perceived to be two
incompatible identities or social arenas.
33
The homo-emancipation policy’s notion of self emancipation is one that requires
a particular standard of inhabiting one’s sexual identity that replicates the dominant
recognisable Western model. Those queer Muslims that come out and match this
paradigmatic model can be absorbed into ‘Dutchness’ and indeed be held up as
mascots: the ‘performative’ Muslim gay as an embodiment of emancipated gayness,
symbolising modernity, no longer really Muslim.
34
Wekker too refers to this
31
Whilst the issue of making a choice between an out gay sexuality and kinship cultural ties is often
articulated in relation to queer Muslims or other ethnic and/or religious queers, this phenomenon is of
course more widely prevalent albeit rarely remarked upon.
32
This latter point about the lack of recognition for Muslim/migrant gays within mainstream gay circles
is a point also made by respondents in the Safra Project Report of Initial Findings (Jivraj et al. 2003).
33
The problem with this terminology and perception is that it reinforces and perpetuates the social
construction of the separateness of such identities and social arenas, as we will elaborate on below.
34
See also Haritaworn et al. (2008) and Rahman (2010).
152 S. Jivraj, A. de Jong
123
phenomenon, stating that Muslim gay men are being portrayed as ‘cuddly toys’
(2009, p. 8) in the media reports of the Habibi Ana cafe
´. This cafe
´is advertised as
‘the only Arab/Moroccan gay bar in the world’.
35
She argues that they are seen as
being in need of ‘protection from their barbarian male hetero-brothers’ (2009,
p. 8).
36
When emblematic, out LGBT (ex-)Muslims are held up, alternative queer
Muslim movements, along with their potential (anti-racist) critiques, are silenced.
37
Non-emblematic queers of colour become invisible, nonexistent, or perceived of as
‘not quite there yet’, a kind of ‘gay in progress’ for whom the closet door still needs
to be opened fully.
38
Moreover, as mentioned above, queer Muslims that are speaking out are not only
held up as exemplary of having achieved emancipation but also as frontrunners in
opening up ‘discussability’ within Muslim circles. They find themselves in the role
of ‘negotiators’ (another meaning of the word bespreekbaar alongside ‘speakable’),
and tasked with the role of making homosexuality ‘discussable’ within their own
religious, cultural or ethnic groups. It is no surprise that many leaders of grassroots
queer Muslim groups eventually burn out, when seeking to balance the competing
demands and pressures from mainstream LGBT organisations, government policies
and Muslim communities, whilst simultaneously struggling to meet the complex
needs of queer Muslims.
39
Moreover, a dialogue model in itself reinforces the
perception of queer Muslims being ‘positioned in between’ and thus strengthens the
dichotomy between the (gay-friendly) West and homophobic Muslims.
Some of the critical observations outlined above are taken up by Dutch sexuality
studies scholars such as Mepschen et al. (2010). Indeed they articulate their aim to
move away from a ‘false dichotomy of defending the religious and cultural rights of
minorities versus the sexual rights of women and gays’ (2010, p. 972). However,
alongside their detailed account of the sexual politics and orientalism in the
Netherlands there is no mention of the Dutch homo-emancipation policy and its
35
Habibi Ana is also described as ‘a small bar in Arabian style, with exotic music and exotic guys. And
people who admire these guys…’(www.nighttours.com/amsterdam/gayguide/habibi_ana.html, accessed
12 December 2010). Although apparently a bar for ‘guys’, the home page of its website shows a ‘classical
orientalist’ depiction of a woman in belly dancing dress. www.habibiana.nl, accessed 12 December 2010.
Problematically, Mepschen et al. mention this same bar when seeking to list examples of ‘new articu-
lations of sexual freedom and expression’ that they suppose demonstrates the success of a ‘politics of
sexual freedom and diversity’ (2010, p. 972).
36
There is of course an interesting gendered dimension here that also circulates in discourse around
‘imperilled Muslim women’ also viewed as requiring protection from their ‘dangerous Muslim men’ see
Razack (2008).
37
The silencing effect of holding up emblematic ‘liberated’ Muslims and ascribing the ‘authentic voice’
to them has been discussed elsewhere, for example Haritaworn et al. (2008), Ghorashi (2003).
38
See also Rahman (2010).
39
Members or beneficiaries of the grassroots groups can be dealing with mental health issues, domestic
violence, struggling with their religious or cultural identities, illegality, addiction, prostitution
(Dankmeijer 2010/1, p. 7; Jivraj et al. 2003). As a result, the position of leaders of Muslim support
organisations can become very strained. Requirements to be out in a particular way, and expected
engagement with the mainstream Muslim community may exacerbate this situation.
The Dutch Homo-Emancipation Policy and its Silencing 153
123
implications.
40
Rather, drawing from Butler’s discussion of the Dutch situation and
subsequent call to build alliances across religious and sexuality based groups (2009)
they conclude that ‘different expressions of cultural and sexual identity, have a
place, not just alongside each other, but in dialogue’ (2010, p. 973). Drawing on
Charles Taylor’s notion of multicultural citizenship and Delanty’s idea of cultural
citizenship, Mepschen et al. argue for ‘both sides’ to engage in a process of
‘learning’ which can have a ‘developmental and transformative impact on the
learning subject’ (ibid).
41
This is perhaps an important strategy amongst others, but they make their
argument from the perspective that the gay emancipation movement in the
Netherlands has already had a transformative impact on inclusive citizenship; which
they view as potentially being taken forward towards building a multicultural
citizenship. Whilst it is not our aim to engage in any depth with this strategy itself,
what is pertinent to our analysis here is, as Haritaworn (2008,2011) argues, that in
calling for dialogue the separation and distinction of the religious from the sexual
subject is again re-instated, effectively erasing Muslim and other racialised queers.
Another key point that often goes missed in such calls for dialogue is the power
dynamic underpinning how such conversations occur, including a lack of proper
engagement with racism and Islamophobia, and with underlying issues of social,
economic and political injustice and disadvantage. As numerous conferences have
born witness to—most recently the 2011 Sexual Nationalisms conference at the
University of Amsterdam—when queer Muslim and other queer of colour scholars do
speak out and call for sexuality and gender studies to better address issues of racialised
and now homonationalist politics, these latter issues tend to be marginalised.
42
Rather, a reinstatement of a homonationalist framing of (queer) Muslims and their
troubling, perceived unwillingness to integrate or move beyond discussions of
embedded racialization comes to be positioned as the key problematic.
43
40
This critical absence (with the exception of this paper) was also prevalent at the Sexual Nationalisms
conference organised by the sexuality studies department at the University of Amsterdam in January
2011.
41
For a feminist critique of the way ‘citizenship’ discourse has been taken particularly in folding migrant
citizens into the culture and values of the nation see for example Yuval-Davis (2009).
42
This problem of marginalisation was especially an issue at the panel ‘Homo-nationalism, homo-
neoliberalism, homo-neo-colonialism: Crises and travels, Europe and beyond’ (with contributions from
El-Tayeb, Jivraj, Petzen and Haritaworn and chaired by Duggan), as made explicit by Puar at the closing
panel.
43
For example the Sexual Nationalism’s pre-conference debate was entitled De Nederlandse paradox.
Seksueel nationalisme in een multiculturele samenleving (The Dutch paradox. Sexual nationalism in a
multicultural society). The programme is available at: http://www.sexualnationalisms.org/resources/
SEXUAL_NATIONALISMS_FINAL_PROGRAM.pdf, accessed 25 March 2011. The theme of the sup-
posed ‘paradox’ was also taken up in the ‘welcome discourses’ as well as one of the first plenary speaker’s
contribution, Eric Fassin, also a co-organiser of the event. See also the Conference organisers’ statement with
regards to the ‘Homo-nationalism, homo-neoliberalism, homo-neo-colonialism: Crises and travels, Europe
and beyond’ panels’ critiques of the conference (http://www.sexualnationalisms.org/statement-february-
2nd-2011.php, accessed 15 March 2011). See also the Lesbiennesof Colour statement ‘Islamophobie au nom
du fe
´minisme, Non!’(‘No! to Islamaphobia in the name of feminism’) on the difficulties they encountered
in talking about racism at a conference organised by two mainstream French LGBTQ organisations on
‘Islamophobia and Feminism in France’ http://espace-locs.fr/,accessed27April2011.
154 S. Jivraj, A. de Jong
123
Habitus & Complex Sexual Subjectivity
The ‘speakability’ imperative is not unique to the Netherlands: there is a strong
homonormative model of sexuality circulating within lesbian and gay politics in the
West more generally. Drawing on Foucault, Wekker views the ‘speakability’ model
promulgated by the Dutch homo-emancipation policy as part of a Western history in
which sexuality came to be invented through the act of being articulated or spoken
about (2009, p. 11). She suggests that the complexity of non-white sexuality—
including religious/cultural experience—comes to be marginalised through this
homonormative paradigm. What then are the conceptual frames that we might
employ towards challenging the homonormative sexuality model that has come to
underpin the Dutch homo-emancipation policy as well as other state and LGBT
discourses?
Wekker, in calling for a greater awareness of the many variations of sexual
cultures in the Netherlands—not all of which are brought into being through
articulation, draws on Bourdieu’s notion of habitus (2009, p. 12). Habitus in
Bourdieu’s work can be defined as a system of dispositions constituted by both
objective and subjective factors: a dynamic intersection of structure and action, of
society and individual. A central aspect of the habitus is its embodiment: the
embedding of structures through practice, rather than a functioning at the level of
explicit, discursive consciousness. The concept captures the practical mastery
people have of their social situation that works in an embodied, deeper and often
pre-reflexive, even unconscious, way (Bourdieu 1977,1990).
Wekker views a Dutch sexual habitus to exist through ‘the verbal, the speaking
that is considered the true sign of emancipation in Western circles and therefore an
expression of modernity’ (2009, p. 12). Using examples from her work on Afro-
Surinam Mati Work
44
(1994,2006) in relation to black, migrant and refugee lesbian
organising and expressions of sexual subjectivity, she juxtaposes the Dutch habitus
of ‘speaking’ with the Afro-Surinam ‘doing’.(2009, pp. 6, 11–12).
45
In this Afro-
Surinam context Wekker argues that speaking is not the way to deal with the ‘sexual
Self’ (2009, p. 11). For Wekker, exploring the complex and diverse ways in which
the sexualities of people of colour come into being is essential in a multi-cultural
society. She calls for an intersectional approach which places different ways of
inhabiting sexuality—understood through the notion of habitus—at the heart of
sexuality politics. Wekker views this approach as critical to policy making and
therefore recommends further research into migrant sexual cultures (2009, p. 11).
46
44
Gosine summarises ‘Mati Work’ as ‘a surviving historical practice among Afro-Surinamese working-
class women who create families from relationships that are not limited to blood ties, or a choice between
heterosexuality or homosexuality’ (Gosine 2009, p. 1).
45
‘Zwarte, migranten-en vluchtelingen’ (zmv) (Black, migrant and refugee) is a term used in the
Netherlands similar to ‘Black, minority, ethnic’ (BME) in the UK.
46
See also Wekker’s forthcoming work (2011a,b) and Rahman (2010) who makes a similar point about
the need for further research on migrant sexual subjectivities.
The Dutch Homo-Emancipation Policy and its Silencing 155
123
It is interesting to note that Mahmood (2005) in her study of religious piety and
subjectivity also explores and goes beyond Bourdieu’s notion of habitus which she
views as coming into being through different reiterative modes of practices or
ethics.
47
As Jivraj has discussed elsewhere (2011) this approach challenges the
predominantly Christian theological conceptualisation of religion—as belief and
ritual practice—or indeed as a cultural or ethnicised phenomenon in relation to non-
Christians. Rather, as Mahmood highlights religion as ‘bodily behaviour’ or
embodied practices must also be understood in terms of how such practices become
meaningful to the self, namely, in particular relational contexts such as within the
family, community and society (2005, p. 27). This textured and complex religious
subjectivity is important to grasp because, as Mahmood argues, these (religious)
behaviours ‘endow the self with certain kinds of capacities that provide the
substance from which the world is acted upon’ (ibid). In other words, religious
subjectivity or identity once formed may (and will) inform how we might inhabit—
or not—other integrated and intersecting parts of our selves. Therefore, the
homonormative and paradigmatic model of sexuality as something that must be
speakable is not always something that queer Muslims or indeed any queer person
‘can act upon’ in the world. Wekker and Mahmood’s conceptualisation of habitus is
therefore an important theoretical starting point from which to develop more
nuanced and productive understandings of complex subjectivity.
Concluding Remarks
Viewed through the lens of habitus, it is perhaps not surprising that the Just being
gay policy appears to have worked best for (orthodox) Christian groups: the
emancipation and ‘speakability’ model clearly maps onto—and indeed derives
from—their experiences and cultural archive.
48
In bringing together Wekker and
Mahmood’s perspectives and approaches to understanding complex subjectivity, it
is our aim to highlight how we might understand and further challenge the shrinkage
of space resulting from the ‘speakability’ model for queer Muslims. We suggest that
a homonormative model potentially limits individual possibilities to inhabit one’s
own sexuality in different ways. We therefore argue that there is an inherent
paradox within the Dutch policy that seeks to make sexuality ‘speakable’, yet
silences the diversity of queer of colour sexualities, as well as limits their political
and social self-organisation.
Rather than being confined to promulgating models or policy paradigms in which
individuals may be empowered to inhabit their sexual and gender identities in
particular ways, we suggest that both LGBT/queer activists and state policy need to
47
Here, she draws on a Foucauldian notion of Ethics where ‘the subject is formed within the limits of a
historically specific set of formative practices and moral injunctions…what Foucault characterises as
‘modes of subjectivation’ (Foucault 1990, p. 29 discussed in Mahmood 2005, p. 28).
48
Mepschen et al. lists the success of these Christian groups too as another example of a ‘new
articulations of sexual freedom and expression’ that supposedly supports their position in favour of a
‘politics of sexual freedom and diversity’ (2010, p. 972). However, as with the other problematic
examples, such as the Habibi Ana cafe
´(footnote 35) and the disbanded Yoesuf Foundation (footnote 25),
our analysis suggests these examples are not convincing.
156 S. Jivraj, A. de Jong
123
grapple with the inherent complexity of these lived experiences, which includes
opening up space for critiques of racialization, orientalism and colonialism.
However, at this time of severe government cuts in the public sector, any advances
made in equalities policies such as adopting an intersectional approach, now appear
to be at risk.
49
It is therefore all the more important for us to protect these gains and
build upon them.
References
Asad, Talal. 2006. Trying to understand French secularism. In Political theologies: Public religions in a
post-secular world, ed. Hent De Vries, and Lawrence E. Sullivan, 494–526. New York: Fordham
University Press.
Bourdieu, Pierre. 1977. Outline of a theory of practice (trans. Nice, Richard). Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.
Bourdieu, Pierre. 1990. The logic of practice (trans. Nice, Richard). Stanford, CA: Stanford University
Press.
Bracke, Sarah. 2011. Sexual politics in times of secular nostalgia. An exploration of the Dutch case. Paper
presented at the sexual nationalisms conference, Amsterdam, 27–28 January 2011.
Brown, Wendy. 2006. Regulating aversion: Tolerance in the age of identity and empire. New Jersey:
Princeton University Press.
Buruma, Ian. 2006. Murder in Amsterdam. New York: Penguin Press.
Butler, Judith. 2009. The sensibility of critique: Response to Asad and Mahmood. In Is critique secular,
ed. Talal Asad, Wendy Brown, Judith Butler, and Saba Mahmood, 101–132. Berkeley: University of
California Press.
Dankmeijer, Peter. 2010. De worsteling van allochtone homo-organisaties. Vakwerk 2010/1, 6–7.
de Jong, Anisa. 2008. An analysis of the coverage of LGBT issues in country of origin information reports
produced by the COI service, UK Border Agency. London: Advisory Panel on Country Information.
Duggan, Lisa. 2002. The new homonormativity. The sexual politics of neoliberalism. In Materializing
democracy. Towards a revitalized cultural politics, ed. Russ Castronova, and Dana D. Nelson,
175–194. Durham, NC: Duke University Press.
El-Tayeb, Fatima. 2011 (forthcoming). ‘Gays who cannot properly be gay.’ Queer muslims in the
neoliberal European city. European Journal of Women’s Studies.
Foucault, Michel. 1990. The history of sexuality: Volume 1: An introduction (trans. Hurley, Robert).
New York: Vintage.
Ghorashi, Halleh. 2003. Ayaan Hirsi Ali: Daring or dogmatic? Debates on multiculturalism and
emancipation in the Netherlands. In Multiple identifications and the self, ed. Toon van Meijl, and
Henk Driessen, 163–172. Utrecht: Stichting Focaal.
Gosine, Andil. 2009. ‘Politics and passion’: A conversation with Gloria Wekker. Caribbean Review of
Gender Studies 3: 1–11.
Haritaworn, Jin. 2008. Loyal repetitions of the nation. Gay assimilation and the ‘War on Terror’,
DarkMatter 3. http://www.darkmatter101.org/site/2008/05/02/loyal-repetitions-of-the-nation-gay-
assimilation-and-the-war-on-terror/. Accessed 20 April 2011.
Haritaworn, Jin, Tamsila Tauqir, and Esra Erdem. 2008. Gay imperialism: Gender and sexuality discourse
in the War on Terror. In Out of place: Interrogating silences in queerness/raciality, ed. Adi
Kuntsman, and Esperanza Miyake, 71–95. York: Raw Nerve Books.
Haritaworn, Jin. 2011 (forthcoming). Wounded subjects: Sexual exceptionalism and the moral panic on
‘migrant homophobia’ in Germany. In Decolonising European sociology, ed. Manuela Boatca,
Sergio Costa and Encarnacion Gutierrez Rodriguez, 135–152. Aldershot: Ashgate.
Jivraj, Suhraiya, Tamsila Tauqir, and Anisa de Jong. 2003. Safra project [R]report of initial findings.
London: Safra Project.
49
See the announcement that the Equality Act’s ‘costly dual discrimination rules’ are to be discontinued
(2011 Budget statement by the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the Rt Hon George Osborne MP. 23 March
2011. http://www.hm-treasury.gov.uk/2011budget_speech.htm, accessed 12 April 2011).
The Dutch Homo-Emancipation Policy and its Silencing 157
123
Jivraj, Suhraiya. 2011. Interrogating law’s religion: Non-Christianness, belonging and nationhood. PhD
Thesis, Kent Law School, University of Kent.
Kuntsman, Adi.2008. Queerness as Europeanness. Orientalist visions and racialized encounters in Israel/
Palestine. DarkMatter 3. http://www.darkmatter101.org/site/2008/05/02/queerness-as-europeanness-
immigration-orientialist-visions-and-racialized-encounters-in-israelpalestine/. Accessed 20 April 2011.
Long, Scott. 2009. Unbearable witness: How western activists (mis)recognize sexuality in Iran.
Contemporary Politics 15(1): 119–136.
Mahmood, Saba. 2005. The politics of piety: The Islamic revival and the feminist subject. New Jersey:
Princeton University Press.
Mahmood, Saba. 2009. Religious reason and secular affect: An incommensurable divide? Critical Inquiry
35(4): 836–862.
Mepschen, Paul, Jan Willem Duyvendak, and H.Tonkens Tonkens. 2010. Sexual politics, Orientalism and
multicultural citizenship in the Netherlands. Sociology 44: 962–979.
OCW (Ministerie voor Onderwijs, Cultuur en Wetenschap). 9 November 2007. Gewoon homozijn. Lesbisch-
en homoemancipatiebeleid 2008–2011. http://www.rijksoverheid.nl/documenten-en-publicaties/notas/
2007/11/14/nota-lesbisch-en-homo-emancipatiebeleid-2008-2011-gewoon-homo-zijn.html, accessed 15
April 2011.
OCW (Ministerie voor Onderwijs, Cultuur en Wetenschap). 24 June 2010. Voortgangsrapportage 2010
algemeen lesbisch- en homo-emancipatiebeleid, deel. 1 http://www.rijksoverheid.nl/documenten-
en-publicaties/rapporten/2010/06/24/voortgangsrapportage-2010-algemeen-lesbisch-en-homo-
emancipatiebeleid-deel-1.html. Accessed 15 April 2011.
Puar, Jasbir K. 2007. Terrorist assemblages: Homonationalism in queer times. Durham, NC: Duke
University Press.
Rahman, Momin. 2010. Queer as intersectionality: Theorizing gay muslim identities. Sociology 44:
944–961.
Razack, Sherene. 2008. Casting out: The eviction of Muslims from western law & politics. Toronto:
University of Toronto Press.
Said, Edward. 1979. Orientalism. Harmondsworth: Penguin.
Siddique, Haroon and Peter Walker. 2009. 12 February 2009. Far-right Dutch MP refused entry to UK.
The Guardian. http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2009/feb/12/far-right-dutch-mp-ban-islam. Accessed
6 December 2010.
Van der Linden, Margriet. 24 July 2007. De homozaak heeft helden en leiders nodig. De Pers.
http://www.depers.nl/binnenland/85658/Homozaak-heeft-helden-nodig.html. Accessed 10 December
2010.
Van der Veer, Peter. 2006. Pim Fortuyn, Theo Van Gogh, and the politics of tolerance in the Netherlands.
In Political theologies: Public religions in a post-secular world, ed. Hent de Vries, and Lawrence E.
Sullivan, 527–538. New York: Fordham University Press.
Vasta, Ellie. 2006. From ethnic minorities to ethnic majority policy: Changing identities and the shift to
assimilationism in the Netherlands. Centre on Migration, Policy and Society working paper no 26.
University of Oxford.
Wekker, Gloria. 1994. Ik ben een gouden munt. Subjectiviteit en seksualiteit van creoolse volksklasse
vrouwen in Paramaribo. Amsterdam: Feministische Uitgeverij Vita.
Wekker, Gloria. 2006. The politics of passion: Women’s sexual culture in the Afro-Surinamese diaspora.
New York: Columbia University Press.
Wekker, Gloria. 2009. Van homo nostalgie en betere tijden. Multiculturaliteit en postkolonialiteit, George
Mosse Lecture 2009, Amsterdam.
Wekker, Gloria. 2011a (forthcoming). Diving into the wreck. Intersections of gender, race, sexuality, and
class in the Dutch cultural archive. In Dutch racism. ed. Philomena Essed and Isabel Hoving.
Amsterdam: Rodopi.
Wekker, Gloria. 2011b (forthcoming). Intimate truths: Theorizing subjectivity and sexuality. A psycho-
analytical and a post-colonial approach. In Theories and methodologies in post-graduate feminist
research: Researching differently. ed. Rosemarie Buikema, Gabrielle Griffin and Nina Lykke. New
York: Routledge.
Yuval-Davis, Nira. 2009. Identity, citizenship and contemporary, secure, gendered politics of belonging.
In The ISA handbook in contemporary sociology, ed. Ann B. Denis, and Devorah Kalekin-Fishman,
29–39. London: Sage.
158 S. Jivraj, A. de Jong
123
