3 minute read
From Kama Sutra to now: How Colonial Rule impacted South Asian Queer Identity and Literature
By Ocean Dattani
Great strides have been made towards stronger representations of queerness both in law and in the media, yet further work is needed to achieve a more intersectional approach. While shows like Heartstopper are fantastic and should be celebrated for their ability to show queer joy, it points to a trend of representing dominant white narratives of queerness. Queer culture has a rich and varied history outside of the western sphere that deserves to be celebrated. It is equally important to acknowledge the ways in which western hegemony and the colonial empire’s understanding of morality imposed upon non-western countries lead to the erasure of queer identity from such cultures. This is shown in the British colonial penal code Section 337, a clear example of the removal of queer identity explicitly linked to racism and colonisation, which had a huge effect on cultural attitudes.
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It is crucial to examine the pre-colonial histories that are usually left out of discussions around queerness. Pre-colonisation, the mix of different states and regions all had very different views of queer identity relating to their own unique culture and heritage. Texts such as the Kama Sutra and the Vana Pavra, alongside other texts, have a fluid perspective on gender and sexuality. Famously, Hinduism recognises a third gender, and there are also instances of women and men in same-sex relationships depicted in temples. This is a culture and society that casually accepted queer people in South Asia. The Hijra, the aforementioned third gender, were viewed as a revered part of most sects of Hinduism, who celebrated their connection to both the masculine and the feminine. Many deities and gods were genderless or gender fluid, and many of them had relationships outside of strict heterosexual definitions. Similarly, Sikhism does not have a clear stance on homosexuality or any other queer identities, but notably, it does not mention heterosexuality either. This, paired with Sikh teachings to not hate and to accept anyone, can make it a queer-friendly and accepting faith. This deserves to be acknowledged and recognised in contrast to Christian doctrine which can often be read as homophobic and exclusionary.
Within politics, the most well-known anti-queer legislation is Section 337, a law that was used by the British to condemn queerness in South Asia. This was part of a larger movement in which South Asia was held to Christian morality, ideals and standards. Like many policies, this was used as a tool to justify the British invasion and exploitation of South Asia. They felt that their invasion was legitimate as a ‘civilizing mission’, when in reality, colonial subjects were often dehumanized. The aim of the British was to increase their global power and economic growth through the plundering of resources. The belief in ‘bringing western standards’ simultaneously dehumanized and delegitimized the cultures, peoples and traditions of the country that they were plundering. This had long-lasting political ramifications, the effects of which are still seen today in Asia; each country has a different level of legality afforded towards queer people. In Bangladesh homosexuality is still criminalised but large parts of the rest of South Asia are making grounds to try and decriminalise homosexuality. Although in most cases queer people in this region are not afforded the same respect as their heterosexual counterparts.
What’s notable about this history is the way in which queer persecution and othering are linked to colonialism. It is impossible to remove one from the other, and it’s crucial to acknowledge that they are inexplicably linked. In South Asia, the existence of queer people and their tolerance within wider society was utilised as a weapon by the British. They controlled the narrative around what was moral and immoral through religious absolutes and utilized this, not only to justify invasion but also the continuing oppressive British regime. This rewriting of history has the tendency to focus on the supposed ‘good things’ the empire did, which ignores the deep scars left on the previously-colonised countries after they gain independence. Attitudes imported by the British and Portuguese remained, and history, religion, and society as a whole became dictated by the colonial past which approached queerness and sexuality from a narrow-minded, white, colonized perspective. This turned Katha, the Hindu religious storytelling in which a priest would tell stories as a religious act, into written stories that were only framed from the perspective of the people with an agenda of invasion.
It is crucial to reframe and understand how history, queer identity and discourse have been shaped by the white dominant narratives created in order to exploit South Asia. The rich history of queer identity in South Asia needs to be realised. Queer liberation, freedom and identity were restricted by colonialism through the use of bigotry against queer people as a tool of colonial conquest. As such it is crucial to re-examine the ways in which colonialism has shaped history, and the enduring narratives of queer identities in South Asia, alongside reclaiming the narratives that have been erased. It is also critical to keep intersectionality at the forefront of queer discussions and activism, to ensure that the intersections between race and queer identity are recognised.