THE RADICAL ROOTS OF MARDI GRAS

The gay rights movement was formed at the intersection of the Black liberation movement, the rise of second-wave feminism, the Vietnam war protests, and the Parisian class uprisings in May 1968. Protests against police brutality and solidarity within and across political movements were key to the scale and success of the fight.2 After activists from San Francisco wrote to various Sydney gay rights groups in 1978 asking for demonstrations of solidarity in honour of the upcoming Stonewall anniversary, a protest was organised. It was set to be multiple things – a march, a political display, and a celebration of queer joy, resistance, and visibility. After the date was set for the evening of June 24, the name ‘Mardi Gras’ was suggested as a cheerful homage to the carnival elements of the event. LGBTQ+ people from around Sydney marched from Taylor Square down Oxford street, attracting crowds of bewildered onlookers from nearby pubs and bars. The protesters held signs calling for an end to the discrimination and criminalisation of homosexuality, as well as demonstrating support for Indigenous and Black civil rights movements which were developing in parallel to the Gay Liberation Front. The plan had been to end in Hyde Park with speeches and calls to action, but after police denied protesters access, there were spontaneous calls to ‘take the Cross’ and march past their permit into Kings Cross.3 Chanting provocative slogans and linking arms, the group of about 500 people advanced and were met with police brutality. One 78er, Diane Minnis, described the way cops were “picking people up, throwing them in the police wagons, slamming the doors on their legs”.3 At the end of the night, 53 people had been arrested. Some were in jail cells and some were left brutalised on the streets. The next morning their names and addresses were publicly printed in the pages of the Sydney Morning Herald, costing many their jobs, housing, and relationships, and driving some to suicide.3

A public apology was made in 2016 by the Sydney Morning Herald, as well as the NSW government. The NSW police provided an apology through Surry Hills superintendent Tony Crandell, but many of the original marchers noted that they were still waiting for direct communication from the chief police commissioner.4 Back in 1978, the violence caused a huge public backlash, with supporters rallying to ‘drop the charges’ against protesters. Eventually, this succeeded and all charges were dropped by the late 90s.5 Additionally, persistent campaigning led to the relaxation of legislation around permits for street marches. In 1979, after uncertainty and fear around whether another march should happen, 3,000 people took to the streets to commemorate the events of the previous year. There were no incidents involving police (or at least, none recorded), and positive media coverage helped platform the queer community into the spotlight. Thus began the creation of a legacy, with crowds growing bigger and bigger every year as Mardi Gras returned again and again, always maintaining its political edge through a variety of floats relevant to the current issues within the community. Even during the AIDS/HIV epidemic of the late 80s, with pressure on organisers to cancel, the parade maintained its momentum. This was during a time when hate crimes and gay bashings were on the rise, with reports of police covering up the murders of queer people.6 In response, the well-loved group Dykes on Bikes was formed in the late 1980s to protect gay men and general supporters of the community. In 1991, the tradition of having Dykes on Bikes lead the Mardi Gras parade was established.

“Stop police attacks on gays, women and blacks” was a well-known chant from the 1978 Mardi Gras.7 It captures the intersectionality of struggles faced by the queer community. From the early 1970s, gay liberationists have been criticising the nuclear family, gender roles, capitalism, and other forms of institutional oppression. They demanded radical action on all fronts, taking a stand for those whose causes might be less ‘palatable’, like sex workers and the trans community. Daring to imagine a world beyond the confines of heteronormativity, these dreams were born and spread through vibrant campus cultures and student life. Parades during the late 80s and 90s stood firmly with Indigenous rights and against police.8

As time progressed, businesses and workplaces began to grow accepting of queer customers, and so came the rise of the ‘pink pound’ in the early 2000s. Suddenly, the purchasing power of the queer community, but also the possibility of monetising many of the cultural events and festivals such as Mardi Gras, became evident to corporations. Previously, small local businesses like porn stores and non-for-profits had sponsored these events. However, as a larger heterosexual audience began to partake in the celebrations, so did the mega-corporations. Social occasions are valuable ways for queer people to create safe spaces for themselves and share common experiences. To counter societal guilt and shame, a push for the pride, visibility, and empowerment of queer people took place through the medium of partying. It is undeniable that much of Mardi Gras’ popularity comes from the many attractive opportunities to party in an atmosphere of indulgence and seduction. In turn, this has provided corporate incentive for businesses and governments to create opportunities for product-placement and marketing. Ultimately, a party is easier to commodify than a protest.

This is not to say that joy, celebration , and fun don’t also belong at Mardi Gras, but rather to highlight that party and protest don’t have to be mutually exclusive. Since the beginning of the gay rights movement, there has been a disconnect between those that believe in respectability politics and those that have always stood by the most marginalised of the community. Liberation for some is liberation for none: we cannot claim to have nothing left to fight for when there remains violent attacks on trans youth. We cannot claim that there is nothing to protest when Indigenous lives continue to be taken by police –the very same armed police that are invited to participate unabashedly during Mardi Gras. Which queer lives are being celebrated when we talk about the 'wins of the movement'? What of those queer folk experiencing homelessness, those who have disabilities, or who live as sex workers?

LGBTQ+ people are overrepresented in the sex work industry and the criminal justice system, as well as being at higher risk of homelessness.8 These people, as well as people of colour, Indigenous, and trans communities remain on the frontlines of discrimination in Australia. When protesters in 1978 spoke of liberation, they spoke fiercely of inclusivity for all. Progress has been made, but let us not forget the recent attacks on safe schooling for trans and gender-diverse children and the discussions around amending the Sex Discrimination Act 1984 (Cth) and the Education Legislation Amendment (Parental Rights) Bill 2020 (NSW).