At the time of writing, I am celebrating Eid and praying in an Indonesian mosque. As the Imam recites the Takbeer, one conversation I eavesdropped on plays in my mind on repeat; a family friend tells the story of how his child has grown up and become extremely anti-LGBT. All the other adults at the table nod their heads in unison and praise the son. As the Surah Al-Fatihah plays from the speakers, I am reminded that my extended family back in Indonesia, whom I just reconnected with, share the same values.
I bow my head to the prayer mat in sujood and secretly wipe tears from my eyes.
***
Growing up in Australia, I always felt somewhat distant from my Indonesian identity and family. While I did observe Islam, my family was never particularly strict with its teachings and so I always had a somewhat lax perspective. To add to that, the area I grew up in was predominantly devoid of any Indonesian people whom I could connect to. Instead, I found myself sometimes assimilating to the cultures of my friends and incorporating them into my own. Although homophobia still exists in Australia today, I have been fortunate enough to be able to both access and occupy spaces where I could freely express myself as a queer woman.
And yet, queerness in Indonesia is and remains an incredibly taboo topic. As 82% of the nation is Muslim, being queer is generally treated as a sin. There also seems to be a current backpedalling on queer rights within Indonesian legislation. In 2022, a Criminal Code was passed that prohibited cohabitation or consensual sex outside of marriage, thus, inscribing into law that anyone who does this has committed a criminal offence. This law disproportionately affects queer Indonesians, who are already denied the ability to marry, making it easier for them to be discriminated against and targeted by law enforcement.
Being ostracised for being queer is, unfortunately, nothing new. However, I was so desperate to finally be able to relate to my family, the people who looked like me, the people who understood me when I spoke Bahasa and the people who shared the same blood as me, that I was willing to disguise who I was, conforming to the Indonesian socio-cultural norms dictating ways of behaviour. So when I packed for my month-long trip to my homeland, I left my “queerness” behind. In fact, I made sure to leave it behind.
And it worked. For an entire month, I grew close to my cousins and grandparents, whom I grew up without. I was grateful for their blessings and hospitality. I was finally becoming a part of a family I had spent my life seeking out. I began to feel as if I was home.
When I returned back to Australia, I was forced to confront the tension that existed between their love for me and my hidden identity. It broke my mended heart that my grandparents, who I cherished so deeply, would not accept me for who I was. I felt guilty to myself and them for lying, as if being queer was a ‘dirty’ aspect of myself I was willing to hide away just to assimilate.
***
Wanting to understand more about my own identity, I talked to my cousin and his queer friends, keen to know more about the queer experience in Indonesia.
One person told me about the degree of internalised homophobia a lot of queer Indonesians have harboured:
“ I have met a few queer people trying to become straight or cis again because they will not be accepted by society or their parents. My friend believes that he is a burden and doesn’t want to be gay anymore which is very sad to watch. I hate seeing my friend be conditioned to thinking he is a sinner just because he was educated falsely on being queer. Internalised homophobia is very common and I don’t want my friend living his life as a lie. No matter how straight you want to try to think you are, in your heart you know you’re gay and nothing is going to change that.”
– Jean
Another person spoke to how isolating the Indonesian queer experience is, with many finding their community online:
“I believe that there isn’t really a strong “community” offline… because we’re forced to keep quiet and silently conform. Attitudes online will be different, but Indonesian queer people usually tend to be active on small private groups on Whatsapp and Facebook.”
– Anon
“[Queer community] may only sometimes be found on online discussions.”
– Dakota
One commonly held opinion was about how different the queer Indonesian experience was compared to the rest of the world:
“Being queer is a lonely experience. We get to see other people in other countries express their queer identity openly with pride parades and such… All we get is people protesting our existence. Indonesia is a majority Muslim and very religious country so this is to be expected as it is a sin in Islam.
– Jean
“Finding my identity… it was Western media that led me to the realisation that I am not straight.”
– MW
***
I love being Indonesian, but when I ask myself the question if it was worth hiding my queer identity to be accepted, I still grapple over the many intricacies of what it means to be Indonesian. To me, it feels as if I wanted to be accepted in either community, I had to deny the other.
And to this day I still do not know the answer to that question.
But as I continue my prayer, surrounded by family friends who do not agree with my existence; I am reminded that in Indonesia, there were many others who were surrounded by my family, and I feel a little less alone.
