Uganda’s Anti-Gay
Bill
by
Mark Fackler
Is
this the same planet? In March, 18-year-old Constance McMillen filed suit
against her small Mississippi town to get permission to bring her girlfriend
to the high school prom. In July the judge declared that the Itawamba school
board had violated the teenager’s rights to free speech and assembly by
cancelling the prom. While waiting for her case to be resolved, McMillen
appeared on three network talk shows, was awarded a $30,000 college
scholarship, and served as one of three grand marshals of New York City’s
Gay Pride March.
Meanwhile, in the
Republic of Uganda, legislation pending before parliament would impose the
death penalty on persons convicted of “aggravated homosexuality”—an offense
that includes having homosexual sex with minors or disabled persons,
engaging in homosexual acts if HIV-positive, and being a “serial offender.”
Intending to address
loopholes in existing Ugandan laws against homosexual activity, the
Anti-Homo-sexuality Bill of 2009, as it is called, would also subject a
person “who purports to contract a marriage with another person of the same
sex” to life imprisonment, while imposing five to seven years in prison for
“promotion of homosexuality” and three years for failing to report any
offense under the act.
The constitutions of both
the United States and Uganda protect speech and assembly in similar terms.
Why do the two nations read human rights so differently?
The bill was introduced
last October 13 by parliamentarian David Bahati, whose stated intention was
to “strengthen the nation’s capacity to deal with emerging internal and
external threats to the traditional heterosexual family.” Chief among those
threats, he claimed, was a new form of Western imperialism: “sexual rights
activists seeking to impose their values of sexual promiscuity on the people
of Uganda.”
Bahati’s action appears
to have been at least in part the result of a conference held in Kampala the
previous March by three anti-gay activists from the U.S.: Don Schmierer, a
board member of Exodus International (which promotes “the message of Freedom
from homosexuality through the power of Jesus Christ”); Caleb Brundidge of
the International Healing Foundation (dedicated to “healing solutions for
men and women with unwanted same-sex attraction”); and Scott Lively, author
of The Pink Swastika, a 1995 book now in its fourth edition that
claims that Hitler and his minions were homosexuals. The conference,
entitled “Exposing the truth behind homosexuality and the homosexual
agenda,” raised fears that the gay rights movement constituted a dangerous
threat to Ugandan families and children.
Reporting from Kampala
December 9, Time’s Zoe Alsop wrote that the bill included “some of
the harshest anti-gay regulations in the world.” She went on to point out
that only “terrorists and traitors” are currently treated as harshly, that
“even murderers don’t face that kind of judicial reach.”
In the search for voices
to oppose the bill, attention turned to megachurch pastor and author Rick
Warren, known for his longstanding aid work in Uganda, which he called a
“purpose-driven nation.” He had collaborated closely there with Martin
Ssempa, a prominent anti-homosexuality campaigner and leading advocate of
the bill.
Although Warren severed
his ties with Ssempa in October, his reticence to make an outright
condemnation of the bill was noted by many observers, Alsop included. But
the day after her story appeared, he issued a statement and a video
denouncing the bill as “unjust, extreme, and un-Christian,” and calling on
Uganda’s religious leaders to do likewise.
“The United States and
others need to make clear to the Ugandan government that such barbarism is
intolerable and will make it an international pariah,” the New York Times
editorialized January 4. In due course, it seemed that every moral authority
in the West, from the Vatican and the Archbishop of Canterbury on down, was
condemning the bill.
Both Secretary of State
Hilary Clinton and President Obama took the occasion of the National Prayer
Breakfast February 4 to lend their voices to the chorus, with the president
referring to the proposed legislation as “odious.” Uganda, the “pearl of
Africa,” with its scars from the Amin years, its history of terror, and its
one-party state apparatus, had become, in the eyes of Western leaders, the
world’s leading gay-basher.
Donor countries let it be
known, Jeffrey Gettleman reported in the New York Times January 3,
that they would withhold foreign aid if the bill went forward—a threat
Bahati might have characterized as Western imperialism as well, particularly
in light of what amounts to pan-African anti-homosexual public policy. For
Uganda is just one of 39 African countries that prescribe prison terms for
engaging in homosexual acts. Indeed, the only African country to recognize
gay rights is South Africa, and even there those rights are not fully
enforced.
Responsibility for this
continent-wide hard line is sometimes attributed to the missionaries who
followed British governors into East and Central Africa. But if Victorian
condemnations of homosexual practice were so powerful, why were similar
condemnations of polygamy so much less effectual? Missionary influence is
not a sufficient explanation.
Possessing a deep
communitarian impulse and a faith that God actually communicates his will to
people and cares about what the church does, Ugandans of nearly all
religious persuasions draw the line at sexual practices that human anatomy
and village survival seem so clearly to witness against.
Cultural values go deep.
Every June 3, a million Ugandans gather at the Basilica of the Martyrs in
Namugongo to remember the 26 Catholic and Anglican men who were burned to
death in 1886 by King Mwanga II. Among other offenses, the martyrs refused
to engage in homosexual practices that had become fashionable and even
obligatory at his court.
The missionary movement
that established Uganda’s schools and churches did not advocate normalizing
homosexuality, and hardly an African theologian does so now. The liberal
theologians in the West who have interpreted away the famous seven passages
in the Bible condemning homosexual acts have had not a shred of persuasive
impact on the African church.
Next to Paul’s
condemnation of “sexual impurity” in Romans 1:24, Zondervan’s highly
successful 2006 Africa Bible Commentary teaches, “Homosexuality is a sin…A
proper sexual relationship is between a man and his wife…All other forms of
sexual relationships are abnormal, unnatural, and a perversion.” Opposing
such forms seems a matter of simple obedience to God, as church leaders and
their flocks have been taught by every mentor and colleague they can name.
That elements of the Western church have accepted gay marriage is a
concession contrary to nature and to faith in the minds of most Ugandans.
To be sure, Desmond Tutu,
the celebrated former Anglican archbishop of South Africa, has been a strong
supporter of gay rights, but he strains to find churchmen in East Africa to
join him. The exception that proves the rule in Uganda is Christopher
Senyonjo, former Anglican bishop of the West Buganda diocese, who began
counseling gay men after his retirement in 1998. But Senyonjo, who toured
the United States in June, has become a prophet without honor in his own
country. While there are other Ugandan church leaders who urge pastoral care
for persons attracted to their own sex, they acknowledge the intense social
pressure (ostracism, avoidance, shunning) that such persons would endure if
their sexuality became known.
Is there middle ground
available between the worlds of gay rights and traditional East African
morality?
Responding to the
pressure from the West, Uganda’s Minister of Ethics and Integrity, James
Nsaba Buturo, announced in December that the death penalty would be changed
to life imprisonment. A month after that, President Yoweri Museveni, who is
adroit at arranging law to suit his pleasure, gave assurances that further
concessions and compromises were forthcoming.
On February 10, the
Inter-Religious Council of Uganda (IRCU), consisting of the leaders of the
country’s five largest faiths—Roman Catholic, Anglican, Muslim, Eastern
Orthodox, and Seventh-Day Adventist—agreed on a statement that at once
emphasized the sinfulness of homosexuality and sharply criticized the bill:
“Our religious teachings
promote respect, compassion and sensitivity. We, therefore, condemn the sin
but welcome the sinners to confess, repent and seek a new beginning. This is
based on the belief that all people are called by God to fulfill His will in
their lives. The IRCU, therefore, decries the proposed death penalty and
life imprisonment in the proposed Bill as unwarranted. We believe
homosexuals need conversion, repentance, support,
and understanding and love in order to abandon their practices and return to
God fully.”
The statement went on to
attack the bill’s proposal to prosecute those who fail to disclose
information regarding homosexual acts while acknowledging that some
additions to the penal code were warranted and calling for increased
anti-homosexual education.
The statement was
published by Uganda’s largest newspaper, the state-owned New Vision,
on March 9. On March 13, Box Turtle Bulletin, a gay-rights website that has
tracked the issue closely, published a long analysis by Jim Burroway calling
the statement “deeply homophobic and ill-informed” but acknowledging that it
“represents the strongest criticism yet of the Anti-Homosexuality Bill by
Uganda’s mainline religious leaders.” In Burroway’s view, the fact that it
was published in toto by New Vision possibly indicated that
the Museveni government intended to bury the bill.
It did become difficult
to know what was happening to it. As of this writing, the nature of the
provisions and the prospects for passage remain obscure.
Ultimately, the middle
ground in this culture war may be humanity itself. Where people of faith,
heart, and will can still speak together, room to live is often found.
Interviews and experience
among the people of East Africa lead to the belief that the specifics of the
bill will be modified in the direction prescribed by the IRCU, and that gay
persons in Uganda will not be executed for their sexual preferences. While
the religious communities will not soften their convictions about human
sexuality, gay rights will be widely and publicly debated, and there will be
some public understanding and accommodation, if not legal protection, as a
result.
For today, gays in Uganda
are intimidated. “In Uganda people take us to be sinners,” Grace, a lesbian
leader of the gay community at Makerere University, told Time’s Zoe
Alsop December 10. “They consider us as a destroyed person. Most [gays] say,
‘I don’t know what I am doing in this world. Everybody hates me.’ We have to
keep on consoling them.”
Uganda’s religious
leaders, its government, and its extensive civil society will eventually
provide the consolations, each in their own voice and vision, until the
perceived hate disappears and something approaching a cease fire prevails.
The excitement about the
bill will recede, Western nations will continue their aid, and the terrible
losses due to poverty, illiteracy, corruption, and AIDS will again occupy
African leaders’ agendas, as they should. And in all this, the mustard seed
that turns into a tree will quietly grow, taking new forms and discovering
new possibilities. |