2.1: Chapter 2- Global Sexualities - LGBTQ+ Anthropology, Past, Present, and Future
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- Joseph Russo
- SUNY Empire State College, Binghamton University, and SUNY Geneseo via Milne Publishing
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Upon completion of this chapter, students will be able to do the following:
- Identify key approaches used in LGBTQ+ studies, including anthropology.
- Define key terms relevant to particular methods of interpreting LGBTQ+ people and issues, such as anthropology and ethnography.
- Identify cross-cultural examples of same-sex desire and contemporary LGBTQ+ lives.
- Describe the connections between identities and embodied experiences.
- Describe intersectionality from an LGBTQ+ perspective.
- Analyze how key social institutions shape, define, and enforce structures of inequality.
- Describe how people struggle for social justice within historical contexts of inequality.
- Identify forms of LGBTQ+ activism globally.
Introduction
Sexuality has long been an interest of sociocultural anthropological research. When anthropologists study sexuality, they examine how the values of a culture are expressed through sexuality practices by analyzing things like kinship systems, hierarchy, and social roles. Anthropologists are interested in not only categories of sexuality but also the purpose or function sexuality serves within a particular culture, as well as across cultures. Heterosexuality was the presumed norm in sexuality studies until the mid-twentieth century. Because of its widespread practice and its association with the reproduction of human life, heterosexuality has also been connected to the sustainment of human culture. Although widespread, heterosexuality varies across cultures, and anthropology has significantly contributed to understanding these differences.
This chapter discusses anthropological studies of non-Western and Indigenous sexualities that question the status of heteronormativity as a global model of social organization. Questioning the status of heteronormativity, however, does not mean that heterosexual kinship and the reproductive unit are not prominent features of nearly all cultures. Rather, this study of global sexualities shows the pertinence of questioning the imperative to be heterosexual. An understanding of sexual difference is enriched by putting sexuality practices in conversation with concepts of gender, race, and class and even with capital, industry, colonialism, and statecraft.[1] Instead of dismissing nonheteronormative sexuality as an outlier or anomaly, this chapter pursues culturally and historically specific data on different cultures across the globe to examine how LGBTQ+ anthropology posits the integral social function of these other sexualities.
Anthropology is the study of human societies and cultures. One of its subfields is sociocultural anthropology, which explores cultural variation, norms, and values. This subfield is the focus of this chapter, with an emphasis on sociocultural ethnographic studies of gender and sexuality. Ethnography is the systematic study of human cultures and is the primary qualitative research method used by anthropologists. Sociocultural anthropologists use ethnography’s immersive, experiential techniques to glean valuable knowledge about human behavior. For instance, they usually live in the communities they study, among the people who reside there, for a significant length of time, to understand life from the point of view of those being studied.
Previous distinctions between sexuality and gender and previous understandings of gender as a binary system do not stand up to scrutiny. The anthropology of sexualities explores the intertwining of gender and sexuality in a culture and the variations among cultures. Studies have found several ways that sex, sexuality, and gender relate to one another in different global cultures. They can form discrete yet related categories, have closely interwoven qualities, and even have qualities that directly inform one another and are occasionally interchangeable or confluent. Gender refers to the characteristics of femininity and masculinity that emerge as social norms and manifest in sociocultural practices and identities. Some theorists maintain that there are boundaries between gender identity and sexuality, but boundaries are not evident in all cultures and throughout all historical periods. Further, defining sexuality and gender as identity formations is not a universal practice. Some cultural conceptions of sexuality and gender see them as a collection of practices or functions.
Additionally, the commonly held belief in a gender binary is not a universal belief. Many cultures have a third gender, a fourth gender, and even a fifth gender. Other cultures understand certain individuals as neither male nor female, either because they embody both genders, moving between gender embodiments (gender fluidity), or they embody neither (gender neutrality). Most research on nonheteronormative gender and sexuality practices focuses on third-gender individuals who were assigned male at birth, but attention to other genders and sexualities is growing. Some other examples are third-gender individuals who were assigned female at birth and queer sexualities, such as female two spirit, gender-fluid queerness, and lesbianism. As discussed later, Native studies have traced this oversight to colonization and the effort of the colonizer to eradicate Native sexualities.[2] Under colonialism, the Native body was seen as sexually deviant. This belief helped justify the elimination and disappearance of Native people and was part of the systematic oppression inherent in colonialism.
Edward Carpenter was an outspoken socialist, philosopher, and activist early in the struggle for rights for homosexuals. His pioneering work Intermediate Types among Primitive Folk, published in 1914, explores the integral social function of nonheteronormative sexualities and gender practices.[3] This work is a combination of archival historical research and armchair ethnography that compiles field notes, travel writings, and anecdotes of settlers, explorers, and missionaries in their encounters with nonheteronormative sexuality and gender practices around the world. In the book, Carpenter developed the theory of intermediacy, which repositions nonheteronormative subjects (previously referred to as inverts or Uranians) to an ambiguously gendered middle ground. They occupy special positions, such as ritual practitioners or creators of arts and crafts. Carpenter includes in his account the samurai code of Japan and military practices in ancient Greece. Military histories from previous eras record same-sex pair bonds and sex acts between warriors. These were often societally enforced sexual and romantic bonds between men in mentorship and initiation, although the reasoning behind such activities and the way societies treated them is still a matter of debate. Carpenter calls these “intermediates,” an umbrella term for any person who falls outside the normative definitions of sexuality or gender practices.
During the mid-twentieth century, LGBTQ+ visibility and political organization in Europe and the United States increased, leading to a deeper engagement with Western LGBTQ+ culture by anthropologists. Esther Newton’s 1972 Mother Camp: Female Impersonators in America is often cited as the first U.S. ethnography on nonheteronormative sexuality and gender. Its subject is drag performance by drag queens (called female impersonators at the time) in the mid-twentieth-century United States.[4] Newton’s work encouraged other LGBTQ+ anthropologists to pursue ethnographic research of LGBTQ+ sexualities in the United States and around the world. Evelyn Blackwood’s pioneering edited volume The Many Faces of Homosexuality: Anthropological Approaches to Homosexual Behavior presented in 1986 a global ethnography of forms of homosexuality.[5] Feminist and gender theory, as well as the rise of queer theory, added complexity to some anthropological concepts. These theories continue to challenge the field today to address ethnographic research that supports LGBTQ+ people and feminist, anti-racist, and anti-colonialist and decolonizing perspectives. For example, one of anthropology’s main theories in studies on global sexualities is the adverse effects European colonialism has had—and continues to have—on the textures and conceptions of Indigenous sexualities and gender embodiments worldwide. These violent, homogenizing colonial encounters were rooted in racist, heteronormative religious orthodoxies that sought to erase Indigenous lifeways.[6]
Explore
Read about the history of the Association for Queer Anthropology and explore the association’s website (http://queeranthro.org/business/aqa-history/).
- Why did it take eight years from the introduction of the resolution on homosexuality to the first official meeting of the Anthropology Research Group on Homosexuality?
- On the “Resources” page, members share syllabi for classes on LGBTQ+ anthropology. Which class would you most like to take, and why?
- On the “Awards” page is a link to the Ruth Benedict Prize, which is awarded annually for a “scholarly book written from an anthropological perspective about a lesbian, gay, bisexual, or transgender topic.” Choose one of the books that have won the prize and determine the author’s main argument in the book. How does its central idea expand or challenge your understanding of sexuality, gender, or both?
Will Roscoe’s study of two-spirit Zuni people and the development of two-spirit activism in North America brought an Indigenous perspective to the idea of the erotic.[7] This reframing of the erotic accounted for sexuality on its own terms rather than in constant comparison to a norm from which sexual and gender practices deviate. Some queer Indigenous scholars developed the initialism GLBTQ2—that is, gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, queer, two spirit[8]—to describe the spectrum of sexualities and gender embodiments included in Indigenous conceptualizations of sex and gender. Embracing the terms queer and two spirit, these scholars argue for the decolonization of Indigenous sexualities, and they critique heteronormativity, finding it a product of colonialism. In so doing, these scholars insist on the autonomy of Indigenous people in controlling and contributing to knowledge production about themselves.
Anthropologists study nonheteronormative sexuality and sexual practices, both today’s globalization of Western LGBTQ+ sexualities and community and precolonial global sexuality and gender nonnormativity. The encounter of non-Western cultures with Western models of LGBTQ+ identity has had far-flung effects on identity politics and rights-based notions of identity and community. Governments and organizations even use pinkwashing, or LGBTQ+ people’s presence or themes, to simultaneously downplay or distract from other unethical or illegal, oppressive, and violent behavior.
Henry Abelove and John D’Emilio have suggested that so-called modern sexual identities such as heteronormativity and LGBTQ+ identity (specifically addressing gay male and lesbian identity and community formation) coincide with the rise of industry and capitalism of the late nineteenth to early twentieth centuries in the West.[9] D’Emilio connects the rise of lesbian and gay identities to the reduced centrality of the heteronormative family unit as a productive labor force necessary for self-sufficiency and survival. A thread in historical studies and cultural critique traces the now relatively common presence of LGBTQ+ communities globally through capitalism and industry, largely in urban centers. Anthropological contributions to this theory describe and document local, regional, and cultural variations, noting that queerness as such (individuals engaging in nonheteronormative sexual practices and gender embodiments) precedes these modern historical developments, often back to ancient periods.
Anthropological work emphasizes that Indigenous concepts and terminology more accurately describe the nuanced differences of Indigenous gender and sexuality than do Western LGBTQ+ neocolonial models. For instance, the Maori word for a same-sex partner is takatapui and is used as an identifier for LGBTQ+ identity in modern Maori culture. However, the term has a meaning beyond the mainstream Western definition of LGBTQ+ identity. It describes nonheterosexual identity generally as well as men who have sex with men but do not identify as LGBTQ+.[10] In Hawaiian culture, aikane is another culturally specific term that describes men and women who have same-sex relationships. Historically, this was a socially accepted role in Hawaiian culture. LGBTQ+ people may describe someone as aikane today, but the term retains nuances that the English-language lesbian or gay might not capture. Both terms were common in precolonial usage. Takatapui has become repopularized in today’s society and is used as a marker to create a distinction between Indigenous Maori modes of queerness and mainstream settler-colonialist LGBTQ+ models of identity.
The Americas
North America
North American Indigenous conceptions of nonheteronormative sexuality and gender practices were documented by settlers, missionaries, and explorers. The individuals engaging in these practices traditionally held integral social roles that fulfilled particular social and ceremonial functions within their respective tribes. Seventeenth- and eighteenth-century white French settlers and missionaries labeled such a person a berdache (the term, denoting a passive homosexual partner or slave, is now usually rejected as a slur) (figure 2.2). Settler colonialists eventually discouraged these roles and violently eliminated those in them. Indigenous groups in the 1990s adopted the term two spirit to emphasize an individual’s experience of dual gender and spiritual embodiments. Two-spirit embodiment, while holding specific meaning and terminology intratribally, commonly signifies a religious or healer role. In Cherokee, the two-spirit term asegi translates to “strange” and is used by some as the modern connotation of queer.
The origin of the berdache role is unclear, and various reasons for the presence of two-spirit individuals have been offered. Some scholars interpret historical material as showing that communities probably assigned this social role, possibly foisting it on a feminine boy or extraneous son to be a passive sex partner, to bolster and reinforce a hierarchy.[11] However, this interpretation is largely rejected by the two-spirit community and is contradicted by the firsthand accounts of two-spirit individuals, such as Osh-Tisch. Also known as Finds Them and Kills Them, Osh-Tisch was a Crow badé (or baté; a male-bodied person who performs some of the social and ceremonial roles usually filled by women) who lived from 1854 to 1929 and famously fought in the Battle of the Rosebud. The story of Osh-Tisch suggests two major points about agency in Crow two-spirit social roles: (1) the role was a cultural institution and chosen by individuals who exhibited exemplary traits, such as excelling at women’s work, and (2) two-spirit individuals could also perform the roles of traditionally gendered males or females, as Osh-Tisch’s part in the Battle of the Rosebud suggests. Similarly, the idea that demographic necessity dictated who would be a two-spirit person is not sufficient to explain female two spirits. Many Crow women took on the traditionally male warrior role, making it difficult to classify two spirits as a response to a shortage of men. A well-known instance is Bíawacheeitchish (Woman Chief) of the Crow, 1806–1858.
Watch
Learn more about the history of the word two spirit from Geo Neptune on this episode in the InQueery series (https://youtu.be/A4lBibGzUnE).
A YouTube element has been excluded from this version of the text. You can view it online here: https://pb.libretexts.org/lgbtq/?p=54
- Describe the history of the term two spirit. Why was it important for Native American activists to create this umbrella term?
- In what ways is the meaning of two spirit similar to, and different from, gay and queer?
- Were there elements of the history of the development of the term two spirit that surprised you? What were they, and why were you surprised?
Two-spirit presence has been noted in more than 130 Native American tribes. Among the Great Plains Indians alone are instances in the Arapahos, Arikaras, Assiniboines, Blackfoot, Cheyennes, Comanches, Plains Crees, Crows, Gros Ventres, Hidatsas, Kansas, Kiowas, Mandans, Plains Ojibwas, Omahas, Osages, Otoes, Pawnees, Poncas, Potawatomis, Quapaws, Winnebagos, and the Siouan tribes (Lakota or Dakota). Female two spirits, although documented among the Cheyennes, were more widespread among western North American tribes.[12] These practices were often, but not always, associated with nonheteronormative sexuality as well as nonbinary gender. Some two-spirit people engaged in same-sex or queer sexual or romantic and marriage relations.
The most common explanation for two-spirit embodiment suggests that the person prefers avocations traditionally associated with the opposite sex, experiences cosmological dreams and visions, or both. The conception of gender as a binary is challenged by two-spirit notions of being neither male nor female or being both male and female. Further, Inuit (culturally similar Indigenous peoples of the circumpolar North, Arctic Canada, Alaska, and Greenland) conceptions of nonheteronormative gender and sexuality were often connected to the Inuit shamanic role of an angakkuq. Although an angakkuq is not always or even usually nonheteronormative, inclusion of nonheteronormative people in its traditional social role shows an association with LGBTQ+ ways of being. Two-spirit people have also been noted in other Arctic cultural contexts, such as among the Aleutians, in Western Canada, and in Greenland.[13]
Latin America and Central America
The Zapotec in Mexico call themselves Ben ’Zaa, “cloud people.” They are Indigenous peoples concentrated in southern Mexico and especially in Oaxaca. Third-gender Zapotec roles such as muxe or muxhe in Oaxaca and biza’ah in Teotitlán del Valle receive more respect in regions where the Catholic faith has less influence than elsewhere and are believed to bring good luck to their communities. They are often thought of as caretakers of the community and of their families (figure 2.4). The Western notion of gender dysphoria does not describe the third-gender experience. Muxes are culturally accepted as not being in an either-or position. They are not placed on only one side of the male-female gender binary. Muxes have various sexualities that are not necessarily determined by their gender variance, which has local categories based on dress, including vestidas (wearing women’s clothing) and pintadas (wearing men’s clothing, sometimes wearing makeup). Also, if a muxe chooses a male partner (called a mayate), neither is necessarily thought of as a gay man or homosexual male.
South America
In South America, travestis are a well-studied LGBTQ+ group. The term is shared among Peruvian, Argentinian, and Brazilian cultures. Travestis are assigned-male-at-birth individuals who use female pronouns and self-identify on a gender spectrum. This spectrum runs the gamut from transgender to a type of third-gender role that is distinct from transgender identity. Travestis are often working-class sex workers. Their societal positions are precarious but also openly recognized. They are open to body modification and transitional surgeries and tend to favor black-market industrial silicone enhancements and intensive hormone therapies. Don Kulick’s study of Brazilian travestis, however, found that they had generally negative attitudes about gender-affirming surgery, preferring to retain their penises for their sex work. They also view transness itself as abnormal to some extent.[14] For these urban Brazilian travestis, gender was a men–not men binary, in which the not-men category encompassed women, homosexuals, and travestis. The travesti category describes a wide spectrum of self-identifying gender-nonnormative individuals,[15] a spectrum that often shifts with changes in politics, legislation, gender, medical science, and cultural conceptions of self.
Asia and Polynesia
South Asia
The Indian subcontinent’s transgender or third-gender category, hijra (referred to in different regions as aravani, aruvani, chhakka, and jagappa), is perhaps one of the more well-documented (by anthropology) nonheteronormative gender embodiments. Hijra is a social category that has been mobilized for political organizing, advocacy, and debate. Hijra people refer to themselves as kinnar or kinner—a reference to the Hindu celestial dance of the hybrid horse-human figure. From Indian antiquity to now, hijra people have been considered closer to third-gender categories than to modern Western binary notions of transgender.[16] In recent political developments, India and Bangladesh have legally recognized hijras as third-gender individuals. Interestingly, the word hijra derives from a Hindustani word that translates to “eunuch” and is used to designate actual eunuchs (people throughout history—most commonly men—whose genitals were mutilated or removed, often for social functions such as guarding women, singing, or religious purposes) and intersex people (those born with bodies that appear neither completely male nor female). Therefore, many third-gender people in India find the term offensive and have created more accurate and appropriate self-identifiers such as kinnar. In India and Pakistan, hijra people usually are employed in sex work. In this precarious and often violent occupation, they experience higher rates of violence, higher rates of HIV infection, and higher rates of homelessness, displacement, and depression.
Watch
What does wearing a sari mean to hijras? Find out in the video “India’s Transgender Community: The Hijra,” by Refinery29 (https://youtu.be/mgw7M-JABMg).
A YouTube element has been excluded from this version of the text. You can view it online here: https://pb.libretexts.org/lgbtq/?p=54
- Why is it so important for hijras to be able to wear a sari? What does the Ritu Kala Samskara ceremony symbolize for them?
- The host of the video states, “Fashion is our most ready means available to us to express in a visual statement our identity.” How do you see this play out in your own society?
- What similarities and differences do you see between the hijra identity and two-spirit people?
Southeast Asia
Southeast Asian third-gender embodiments have also been influenced by globalization and capitalism. Third-gender individuals are popularly associated with industries that value their distinct cultural traits. In the Philippines, third-gender embodiments are referred to as bakla (in the Tagalog language), bayot (Cebuano and Bisaya), or agi (Hiligaynon and Ilonggo). Third-gender individuals are incorporated into the social and cultural structures of Filipino life and often work in the beauty and entertainment industries. Anthropologists such as Martin Manalansan have documented how modern bakla life is lived in the context of the diaspora, immigration, globalization, and community, noting that bakla presence challenges Western notions of gay identity and the assumed connection between LGBTQ+ people and progressive politics.[17]
In Indonesia, Evelyn Blackwood has explored tomboi identity among women who identify more closely with masculine cultural traits and enact masculinity in particular ways, thereby blurring the distinctions between male and female social roles.[18] In Thailand, third-gender and third-sex embodiments are described by the identifying term kathoey (or ladyboy).[19] These are distinctive identities, often understood as contrasting with trans identity in Thailand, but not exclusively. Scholars have noted that kathoey can describe a spectrum of gender and sexualities, ranging from trans woman to effeminate gay man, and opinions on what constitutes kathoey identity differ (figure 2.5). The historical connotation of kathoey was much wider; before the 1960s, it referred to anyone falling outside heteronormative sexuality or gender categories. The English translation of kathoey as “ladyboy” has been adopted across other Southeast Asian countries as well.
Polynesia and Pacific Islands
Polynesian language and culture have specific terms for LGBTQ+ identities and for third-gender or nonbinary assigned-male-at-birth individuals. These individuals are understood as embodying characteristics that lead them to self-select or to be socialized as women. In Samoa, the fa’afafine (meaning “in the manner of a woman” in Samoan) third-gender or nonbinary role,[20] similar to the muxe, has cultural associations with the family and hard work (figure 2.6). Fa’afafine is distinct from fa’afatama (male-to-female trans individuals), and the designation’s origin is disputed. The term may have been introduced in the nineteenth century with the advent of British colonialism and the introduction of Bibles translated into Samoan.[21] This suggests that before the introduction of Christianity, gender-variant individuals may have simply been referred to as fafine (women). Fa’afafine sexualities express along a spectrum, from male to female partners, although literature has suggested that fa’afafine do not form sexual relationships with one another. As in other cultures with nonbinary or third-gender individuals, fa’afafine celebrate their cultural heritage and gender variance in pageantry.
The word fa’afafine is cognate with other Polynesian language words in Tongan, Cook Islands Maori, Maori, Niuean, Tokelauan, Tuvaluan, Gilbertese, and Wallisian describing third-gender and nonbinary roles. In Hawaiian and Tahitian, the word is mahu. Third-gender or nonbinary assigned-female-at-birth individuals in Samoa can be referred to also as fa’atane. Dan Taulapapa McMullin, a fa’afafine scholar, argues that the shared history of the words fa’afafine and fa’atane and those individuals’ integral role in society demonstrate that Samoan culture lacks heteropatriarchal structures. He further observes that daughterless Samoan families choosing a son to become a fa’afafine is an anthropological myth.[22] McMullin notes that Western anthropological work on Samoan culture that is seen as authoritative conflates gender and sexual categories in order to make false statements about the status of fa’afafine.[23] Further, the suppression of gender variance in the Samoa Islands in the nineteenth century was a direct and violent result of British colonialism and missionary work. Third-gender identities of Samoan migrants to the United States and Europe were also repressed.
Watch
Watch this video about fa’afafine in New Zealand, “What Is a Fa’afafine?,” by Pacific Beat St. A full video transcript is available in the appendix.
- How would you describe what it means to be fa’afafine after watching the video?
- Phylesha talks about the difference between tolerance and acceptance. What are some examples of the difference between these attitudes?
- Phylesha uses both fa’afafine and transgender to describe herself, but she also describes her gender identity as being neither male nor female. Does her explanation of her identity change how you understand what it means to be transgender? Why or why not?
East Asia
Japanese cultural norms around nonheteronormative sexuality and gender practices have shifted over time. Historians have focused on the homosexualities of men. These are traced through ancient homoerotic military and warrior practices of samurai and gender embodiments used in ancient times for sacred and erotic purposes. For example, adolescent boys dressed as traditional geishas in the third-gender wakashu role (figure 2.7). Male homosexuality in ancient and premodern Japan is generally separated into the categories of nanshoku (translating to “male colors” and referring to practices of sex between men) and of shudo and wakashudo (translating to “the ways of teenage and adolescent boys”). The decline of these terms’ use and the discouragement of these practices began with the rise of sexology in Japan in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries (Meiji period), when Western notions of sex and sexuality started to replace traditional Japanese norms. Homosexual practices were relegated to areas of Japanese society in which certain transgressions were tolerated, such as among Kabuki performers, some of whom dressed as women. Kabuki and Noh theater barred women from performing, and males played female roles.
Today, homosexuality practices in Japan are similar to the Western model, with culturally specific variations. Homosexuality is not illegal, but as of 2022, same-sex marriage was still not legal at the national level. Same-sex partnerships are recognized in some cities, and antidiscrimination laws vary according to region, much as in the United States and Europe. The LGBTQ+ community is especially visible in urban centers like Tokyo and Osaka, and modern terms for gay and lesbian identities exist. Also, nonnormative gender categories exist, such as the genderless danshi. These are generally young men who adopt third-gender and androgynous elements (e.g., makeup) but who often define themselves using cisgender and heterosexual markers. Danshi are often public performers—for example, musicians—whose fan base is mostly adolescent girls. Some gay erotica and media in Japan, such as the yaoi genre, typically depict adolescent boys in romantic or erotic relationships. Yaoi is generally authored by women and read by adolescent females. Conversely, bara, another form of gay erotica, is made primarily by gay men and has a majority-gay male audience. Among the audience are men who love men (MLM) and men who have sex with men (MSM); both types may or may not self-identify as gay.
Africa
African formations of sexuality and gender include culturally specific norms of Indigenous groups in urban, rural, and religious contexts. Rudolf Gaudio’s work on ‘yan daudu (or “effeminate men” in the Hausa language) in the northern Nigeria city of Kano finds differences between sexual identity and sexual practices. ‘Yan daudu are thought of, by themselves and by the public at large, as effeminate male sex workers who are not necessarily homosexual, even though they regularly have sex with men. They also occupy a socially ambiguous space with regard to their Islamic faith.[24] Regine Oboler studied female husbands among the Nandi of Kenya. She describes a cultural position occupied by older, childless (or more specifically, without a son) women who marry other women. They take on wives, receive bridewealth, and perform male duties, while not necessarily making their position part of their sexualities or gender embodiments. Oboler argues that maleness and the woman-woman marriage bond is understood as a matter of necessity and function in Nandi patrilineal societies.[25] Some authors argue that Oboler did not sufficiently explore the possibilities of a sexual relationship between the women.[26] Ifi Amadiume similarly explores female husbands in Igbo culture, as does Kenneth Chukwuemeka Nwoko.[27] Among the Tanala, a Malagasy ethnic group in Madagascar, third-gender-embodied individuals are referred to as sarombavy. They have been described as occupying a cultural position like that of Native American two spirits. The Swahili on the East African coast also have third- or alternative-gender identities (figure 2.8).
In the late twentieth century, leaders of new African states typically derided homosexuality as un-African, and they supported the persecution of lesbians and gay men. Nonetheless, after decades of struggle against apartheid in South Africa, the new South African constitution in 1996 enshrined protections against discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. The increase in studies on postcolonial LGBTQ+ rights and gender nonconformity and sexual minorities in Africa constitutes a relatively recent pan-African political movement. In postcolonial African cities, sexual violence against lesbians in South Africa and gender- or sexuality-based oppression and violence have occurred.[28] Scholars have focused on a variety of topics, including sexual violence against lesbians in South Africa and knowing women, a term for working-class women in southern Ghana who share friendship and intimacy.[29] The twenty-first century has witnessed a surge of activism by gender and sexual minorities across Africa. This activism promotes both Indigenous terms and histories of sexuality and gender. It also draws on international LGBTQ+ culture and activism in creating identities that resist and critique colonial and neocolonial heteronormativity.
Europe
Binary formations of sexuality and gender are widely characterized as Western, European, Euro-American, or American. European cultures, however, also have multiple instances of third-gender or nonbinary gender formations. For example, Italy’s traditional Neapolitan culture has the femminiello (the plural form is femminielli), an assigned-male-at-birth homosexual with gender-variant expression (figure 2.9). Members of this group play prominent roles in cultural festivities. These individuals have specific roles in religious parades, are often asked to hold newborn infants, and participate in games such as bingo and raffles (tombolas). Moreover, recent studies suggest that today’s Neapolitan culture is more accepting of femminielli than mainstream LGBTQ+ notions of sexuality and gender.[30] This assignation as femminiello is associated with the long-standing references to gender ambiguity (androgyny) and intersex individuals in Italian custom, going back to ancient myths about Hermaphroditus (the intersex son of Aphrodite and Hermes) and Tiresias. The cult of Hermaphroditus traces back to ancient Cypriot rites in which men and women exchanged clothing before the statue of a bearded Aphrodite.
Rictor Norton chronicles eighteenth- and nineteenth-century England’s molly houses, meeting places for gay men, or mollies—although it is unclear whether this term was a pejorative one or used as a self-designator.[31] Socializing, romancing, and same-sex sexual encounters took place there, as well as cross-dressing activities such as faux-wedding rituals between men and mock births (figure 2.10). These venues were illegal, and homosexuality of any kind was a capital offense in England until the late nineteenth century. Police regularly raided molly houses, and the homosexuals who frequented them were recognizable social types. This complicates Michel Foucault’s suggestion that the public categorizing and punishment of homosexuals and homosexuality did not begin until later.[32]
View
On the BBC’s Travel gallery, “Naples’ Beloved ‘Third Sex’ Wedding” (http://www.bbc.com/travel/gallery/20190624-naples-beloved-third-sex-wedding) explores a play, a local ritual, that takes place in the Italian town of Pagani. Although the ritual dates back to the seventeenth century, it is kept alive today by the gay community. The play, The Wedding of Zeza, features a marriage between a femminielloand a straight man. Don’t miss the video on page 5 of the slideshow.
- What does The Wedding of Zeza show us about this region in Italy’s past, present, and future?
- Why do you think the gay community keeps this tradition alive?
- Discuss why the tradition of the characters taking off their costumes at the end of the play is an integral part of this celebration.
Conclusion
Throughout history and all around the world, many peoples engaged in same-sex relations. In many societies these practices were accepted and even celebrated. Christianity and colonialism were two key forces that brought homophobia to many societies and influenced local social constructions of gender and sexuality. The study of global sexualities is an ever-evolving discipline. This chapter describes the range of gender and sexual practices that have existed in different places and times and that continue to evolve. In the twenty-first century, globalization continues to spread Western notions of LGBTQ+ liberation, and in turn, local and regional cultural practices affect contemporary Western expressions and struggles over gender and sexuality.
Read
The article “In Han Dynasty China, Bisexuality Was the Norm,” by Sarah Prager, explores studies that document China’s “long history of dynastic homosexuality.”
- What are some catchphrases that refer to love between men in ancient China? Where do they come from?
- What evidence does the author present that bisexuality (and not heterosexuality or homosexuality) was the norm in China’s Han dynasty? Do you agree or disagree with this characterization?
- What is one of the only references to love between women in ancient China? Why isn’t there more documentation of women’s sexuality?
Profile: Lukas Avendaño: Reflections from Muxeidad
Rita Palacios
Lukas Avendaño (1977–) is a muxe artist and anthropologist from the Tehuantepec isthmus in Oaxaca, Mexico. In his work, he explores notions of sexual, gender, and ethnic identity through muxeidad. Avendaño describes muxeidad as “un hecho social total,” a total social fact, performed by people born as men who fulfill roles that are not typically considered masculine. Though it would be easy to make an equivalency between gay and muxe or between transgender and muxe, it can best be described as a third gender specific to Be’ena’ Za’a (Zapotec) culture. Muxes are a community of Indigenous people who are assigned male at birth and take on traditional women’s roles, presenting not as women but as muxes. Avendaño’s work is a reflection on muxeidad, sexuality, eroticism, and the tensions that exist around it. Though muxeidad is understood and generally accepted as part of Be’ena’ Za’a society, it exists within a structure that privileges fixed roles for men and women, respectively. It is important to note that his work provides a reflection on muxeidad from within rather than without—that is, he critically explores what it means to be muxe as muxe himself, providing an alternative to academic analyses that can exoticize.
In Réquiem para un alcaraván, Avendaño reflects on traditional women’s roles, particularly in rites and ceremonies of the Tehuantepec region (a wedding, mourning, a funeral), many of which are denied to muxes. For the wedding ceremony, the artist prepares the stage by decorating for the occasion and then, blindfolded, selects a member of the audience who presents as male to marry him. Such a union would not be well regarded in traditional Be’ena’ Za’a society, even though same-sex marriage was recently legalized in Oaxaca, an initiative spearheaded by a muxe scholar and activist, Amaranta Gómez Regalado, in August 2019.