Lebanon is praised by some as one of the most gay-friendly Arab countries with a vibrant gay scene. There is a law, however, prohibiting sexual relations that ‘go against nature’. And although human rights groups, gay activists and also judges and lawmakers have been lobbying for abolition of this law, gay people are still being prosecuted and sentenced to prison in Lebanon.
Hsen K. (30), now a third-year Psychology student at VU whose full name is withheld at his request, was arrested in Beirut in 2014 when he attended a gay bath house, the Hammam Al Agha. It was raided by officers of the Moral Protection Bureau, which had received a tip about the ‘possible presence of homosexual individuals. It wasn’t an official gay club. The gay scene in Beirut is very much underground. You hear about where events are held through the internet, closed WhatsApp groups and word-of-mouth.
“There is more acceptance in Lebanon than before, but that’s not saying much”, K. says. “Two women may walk hand in hand in the street, but it’s better not to do so as men. The LGBT+ community still faces a lot of violence.”
There’s a grey area between what is legal and what is not, and that, K. says, is where non-profit organizations operate and fight for the right for gays, lesbians, trans people and other LGBT+ individuals to exist.
Violent arrest
Get-togethers by queers are commonly tolerated by the authorities, with the queer people feeling relatively safe, until they’re not. The night of his arrest, K. and 27 other men had bad luck. They were rounded up and charged with, among other things, ‘intercourse contrary to nature’ and ‘infringement of public morals and ethics’.
K. gives no details of what his arrest and detention were like, but after the interview he sends a link to an article about the arrest. It describes the beating and torturing of the arrested employees of the bath house in order to terrorize the customers, who could hear the beatings and the screams of the employees. Some costumers were beaten themselves by fellow prisoners, humiliated and had their human rights infringed upon by their interrogators.
It was a high-profile case, attracting a lot of media attention and the scrutiny of NGOs, pointing out the illegality of the arrests, the detainments, the treatment of the detainees and the instances of corruption involved.
Shameful
K. was set free after his father paid his bail and awaited his trial in freedom. The affair was “super shameful” for his family, Hsen says. “I come from a very religious family and the arrest was my coming-out. I think they had always suspected I was gay, but we never talked about it. To this day, my father still doesn’t speak to me. My mother does, and my sister is supportive – a bit. My brother is a total homophobe. He says he accepts me as his brother, but not as a gay man.”
K. doesn’t consider himself a Muslim. “I don’t believe in religion at all”, he says.
His father, who is not without connections, talked to some people with influence and pulled some strings, but couldn’t prevent a lawsuit being filed against K. However, due to the corrupt system, K. says, so far, a trial date has never been set. The case was never dismissed either, so the possibility of a long prison sentence kept hanging over his head.
Four years later, in 2018, K. bought a plane ticket to Amsterdam to visit the city as a tourist. Once in the Netherlands, at the advice of a Facebook friend, he applied for asylum, it was as simple as that.
It was not just the risk of a long prison sentence he fled from, K. says now. It was also the atmosphere of intolerance in his vicinity and the “super controlling” presence of his father. “I had to get out of that house.”
Grindr
“Because everything was documented, I had my indictment and everything with me, my asylum procedure went relatively smooth”, K. says. “After ten months, I was officially given a refugee status.” In those ten months he had seen the inside of a range of asylum centers, as all refugees do. “I went from Ter Apel to Budel, Grave, Arnhem, Bloemendaal and Bennebroek.”
His integration into Dutch society went quickly. “Being gay helped me”, he says. “At the asylum center in Budel I started using Grindr [a dating app used mostly by queer men, Ed.] to date men living in the area. So I started to get familiar with the local population.” He was living in the same unit with five straight men from Syria, who were somewhat bemused by the quickness with which K. adapted to his new surroundings. Didn’t they use dating apps to meet people? Didn’t he advise them to do so? K. gazes pensively for a short moment. It hadn’t occurred to him, to be honest, he says.
Disturbing news items report on occasional anti-LGBT+ violence at asylum centers, but K. hasn’t had those experiences at the centers where he was staying. “Sometimes people were giving stupid comments which I paid no attention to, but the people working at the asylums were super supportive. We slept in separate rooms and I didn’t spend a whole lot of time at the centers.”
Odd jobs
The possibility was offered at the asylums to take a Dutch language course, but two-hour classes were only given once a week, K. says, so he started learning Dutch by volunteering in a nearby home for the elderly, where he worked the garden. He joined all kinds of activities in which he could meet Dutch people and learn the Dutch language.
Once he had the official refugee status he started doing odd jobs, like working at the local Albert Heijn supermarket. When he moved to Amsterdam, he found a job as a barman in a gay bar. He immediately started to try and go to university. First in Leiden, where he was refused because the degree he had obtained in Lebanon, a bachelor’s degree in Human Resource Management, wasn’t accepted. Later he applied at VU, where after some delay due to “technicalities” which K. doesn’t specify, he could start a bachelor’s study in Psychology. He is now in his third year and considers a master’s in either Psychopathology or Child Psychology.
He is also part of the board of VU Pride, the rainbow network for students and staff. He is the treasurer, overseeing the financial aspects of the organization. “I’m not hugely involved in the substantive aspects. It’s just something I do on the side. I focus on the money, mainly.”
Anti-refugee stance
Life in the Netherlands suits him well, he says. “Except for the weather, which I don’t like.” He also finds Dutch bureaucracy “annoying”. “There are so many laws to limit your possibilities.” An appeal to be exempted from paying water tax because he’s a student, turned out to be a twelve-week-long procedure, which he thinks is absurd. “I was expected to turn in a letter from my parents to prove they don’t support me financially. Luckily, Vluchtelingenwerk Nederland wrote a letter for me explaining I am not supposed to have any contact with my family.”
The political situation in his new homeland worries him. He says the anti-refugee stance of the current Dutch government scares him. “I’m afraid they will take away my Dutch citizenship. But as long as we still have our rights, I guess we have to move forward and be hopeful.”
He noticed a shift in attitude towards gay people at VU too. “I didn’t think LGBT+ people would be attacked verbally at a university campus. VU Pride, whose headquarters were vandalized last year, is now in close contact with security on campus. It’s very sad.” K. went into therapy, already when he was still living in an asylum center. “I had nightmares and anxiety attacks, and have sessions every two weeks. I’m almost finishing it now.”
He considers himself lucky with “so many Dutch friends, who accept me and make me part of their group. We even celebrated Christmas together.”
Hemaworst
He likes Dutch food, especially the Hemaworst, an immensely popular sausage that is one of the trademarks of the Dutch variety store Hema. He says he eats Nieuwe Maatjes twice a week, the fatty, slightly cured herring which is an essential part of Dutch food culture.
But he misses the Lebanese weather, and his mother’s cooking. He has asked his mother for her recipe of Adas Bhamod, a typical Lebanese sour lentil soup, consisting of lentils, potatoes and lemon, which he now prepares at his home regularly. “Nothing beats my mother’s food.”