What's in a name? The personal and political meanings of'LGBT'for non-heterosexual and transgender youth in Kyrgyzstan more

This article was downloaded by: [Wilkinson, Cai] On: 25 December 2010 Access details: Access Details: [subscription number 931593173] Publisher Routledge Informa Ltd Registered in England and Wales Registered Number: 1072954 Registered office: Mortimer House, 3741 Mortimer Street, London W1T 3JH, UK Central Asian Survey Publication details, including instructions for authors and subscription information: http://www.informaworld.com/smpp/title~content=t713409859 What's in a name? The personal and political meanings of 'LGBT' for nonheterosexual and transgender youth in Kyrgyzstan Cai Wilkinsona; Anna Kireyb a Centre for Russian and East European Studies, University of Birmingham, Birmingham, UK b Center for Slavic, Eurasian and East European Studies, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, USA Online publication date: 25 December 2010 To cite this Article Wilkinson, Cai and Kirey, Anna(2010) 'What's in a name? The personal and political meanings of 'LGBT' for non-heterosexual and transgender youth in Kyrgyzstan', Central Asian Survey, 29: 4, 485 — 499 To link to this Article: DOI: 10.1080/02634937.2010.533970 URL: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/02634937.2010.533970 PLEASE SCROLL DOWN FOR ARTICLE Full terms and conditions of use: http://www.informaworld.com/terms-and-conditions-of-access.pdf This article may be used for research, teaching and private study purposes. Any substantial or systematic reproduction, re-distribution, re-selling, loan or sub-licensing, systematic supply or distribution in any form to anyone is expressly forbidden. The publisher does not give any warranty express or implied or make any representation that the contents will be complete or accurate or up to date. The accuracy of any instructions, formulae and drug doses should be independently verified with primary sources. The publisher shall not be liable for any loss, actions, claims, proceedings, demand or costs or damages whatsoever or howsoever caused arising directly or indirectly in connection with or arising out of the use of this material. Central Asian Survey Vol. 29, No. 4, December 2010, 485 –499 What’s in a name? The personal and political meanings of ‘LGBT’ for non-heterosexual and transgender youth in Kyrgyzstan Cai Wilkinsona∗ with Anna Kireyb a Centre for Russian and East European Studies, University of Birmingham, Birmingham, UK; bCenter for Slavic, Eurasian and East European Studies, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, USA In this article, we focus on the ways in which non-heterosexual and transgender youth involved with the non-governmental organization ‘Labrys’ in Kyrgyzstan have begun to demand the protection of their basic civil and human rights on the basis of selfidentification as ‘LGBT’. This acronym, which stands for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender, is relatively new to Kyrgyzstan and other post-Soviet states, and represents a change in the terms used by non-heterosexual and transgender people to describe themselves. We frame our discussion using the concepts of sexual citizenship, private/ public divides and stigma and base our discussion on debates amongst the staff and community of Labrys about the purpose and scope of the organization. Centrally, we suggest that the strategic use of ‘LGBT’ as a public and politicized identity represents a new, pro-active form of stigma management. By employing this strategy, young LGBT people become ‘would-be’ sexual citizens and challenge traditional societal norms that seek to keep discussion of sex and sexuality in the private sphere and restrict rights to heterosexual, cisgender citizens. Keywords: LGBT; sexual citizenship; Kyrgyzstan; non-heterosexual identities; transgender; homosexual; youth; stigma management Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 Introduction Although the topic of ‘gender’ has been a growing feature of Central Asian studies since 1991, as Kamp (2009, p. 6) noted, this has most frequently meant the study of cisgender1 and implicitly heterosexual women. Within academia, studies of non-heterosexual and transgender lives have been notable almost entirely by their absence.2 Several NGOs have published reports and articles documenting the problems faced by non-heterosexual and transgender people in Kyrgyzstan in terms of violations of their rights (van der Veur 2004), access to healthcare (OSI SHARP/Soros Foundation –Kyrgyzstan 2007) and ‘everyday humiliations’ (Human Rights Watch 2008b). However, to date there has been no attempt to examine the everyday lives of non-heterosexual and transgender people and their ways of dealing with the challenges of living in a society where homophobia and transphobia are not only common, but are also considered acceptable by many.3 This article aims to address this omission by examining the strategies used by people associated with the Bishkek-based Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender (LGBT) non-governmental organization (NGO) Labrys to challenge the heteronormative status quo in society, and to address the need, in the words of Labrys’ acting director, to ‘build tolerance towards people of non-traditional sexual orientation’ (quoted in Knyazev 2010). Utilizing Goffman’s (1963) notion of stigma and stigma management and Weeks’ (1998) concept of sexual citizenship, this article sets out to explore the experiences of young non-heterosexual and transgender people in Kyrgyzstan as ‘would-be sexual citizens’ who employ a growing range of strategies ∗ Corresponding author. Email: c.wilkinson@bham.ac.uk ISSN 0263-4937 print/ISSN 1465-3354 online # 2010 Central Asian Survey DOI: 10.1080/02634937.2010.533970 http://www.informaworld.com 486 C. Wilkinson with A. Kirey to manage their identities. Traditionally, such strategies have revolved around efforts to remain unidentified by mainstream society in order to avoid negative consequences, ranging from physical violence to disownment by one’s family or dismissal from one’s workplace. Virtually all members of Labrys employ such strategies to varying extents. For young people in particular, these are vital survival mechanisms within their families and society at large. In the absence of financial independence and alternative social networks, their costs of being ‘outed’ or ‘coming out’ are likely to be particularly high (Tais Plus 2007). Yet significantly, in addition to employing individual ‘defensive’ tactics, some young people are beginning to utilize more proactive, collective approaches that seek to de-stigmatize non-heterosexual and transgender identities and demand recognition. This is evidenced by the presence of a small but growing number of non-governmental organizations that provide services and support, including advocacy, for non-heterosexual and transgender people in Kyrgyzstan.4 By creating a public and politicized LGBT identity, these organizations are challenging the traditional perception that issues of sex and the body belong solely to the private sphere. This shift in strategy is central to the concept of sexual citizenship discussed below. Labrys, which was founded in 2004, offers a useful starting point from which to explore some of the issues that are central to the lives of young non-heterosexual and gender-variant people. The organization’s user community encompasses approximately 1000 people aged from their late teens up to their late fifties, with an estimated 85% of members being under the age of 30. Specifically, we consider how Labrys staff and members have engaged with ‘LGBT’ as an identity that can be used strategically for societal stigma management and accessing support. This has been a central issue in the creation and subsequent development of Labrys. For the purposes of this article, we use the abbreviation LGBT to refer to a particular, politicized identity that some non-heterosexual and transgender people use to describe themselves. In doing so, we hope to highlight that such appellations do not necessarily reflect the diverse ways in which people personally experience their sexualities and genders, which are inherently situated and intersubjectively constructed. While the processes of stigma management and the politicization of identity reflect LGBT struggles in many parts of the world, Kyrgyzstan is an anomaly in Central Asian terms. In comparison to the other Central Asian republics, there have been far greater opportunities for nonheterosexual and transgender people to organize formally and gain support and recognition. This situation is in no small part due to the influence of international donors on the government of Kyrgyzstan, and to the support of individual NGOs by such donors (Kirmse 2009, Paasiaro 2009). In addition, the government has proved more willing to engage with LGBT activists than in other republics. Two tangible examples of this have been the issuing of official documents with a male gender marker to at least two transmen in 20095 and Labrys’ recent change of registration (while it had originally been registered as an ‘organization for young women’ in February 2006, it was re-registered in February 2010 as an ‘LGBT’ organization).6 Similarly, the government has been receptive to the recommendations of bodies such as the UN Human Rights Council, accepting the recommendation to make provisions to address discrimination against women on the grounds of their sexual orientation (Bennett 2010). In contrast, a recommendation to the government of Kazakhstan that the republic adhere to the UN declaration on sexual orientation and gender identity was rejected due to the need for ‘thorough discussion, so that public opinion may be taken into account’ (United Nations 2010). As such, conditions in Kyrgyzstan have meant that if local LBGT activists could not be said to be pushing at an open closet door, they have certainly found that the door is unlocked, and have capitalized on this situation by pushing the door even more and taking tentative steps into public arenas. Before providing an overview of the theoretical concepts that inform our exploration, we discuss a number of issues relating to the position of the researcher, methods and source Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 Central Asian Survey 487 materials. We then provide an overview of Goffman’s notions of stigma and stigma management, relating them to the situation of non-heterosexual and transgender people in Kyrgyzstan and to the fledgling signs of ‘sexual citizenship’ in the post-Soviet space. The following two sections then explore the dynamics and meanings of LGBT for non-heterosexual and transgender youth associated with Labrys in more detail. In the personal or ‘non-public’ realms of people’s lives,7 ‘LGBT’ delineates a space in which non-heterosexual and transgender people can be safe, feel part of a community, and access specific services and support. In addition, the term’s novelty and neutrality in Kyrgyzstan, leading to a relative absence of negative connotations, facilitates the reassessment of one’s identity. It also potentially helps to de-stigmatize non-heterosexual or transgender identities and facilitates more positive strategies of identity management. As a personal and non-public identity, ‘LGBT’ is unable to change people’s strategies for stigma management from defensive to pro-active. In contrast, in the public sphere, selfidentification as LGBT (both as an individual and as a community) facilitates entry into a globally-recognized discourse of LGBT rights as an integral part of universal human rights. This discourse actively aims to de-stigmatize non-heterosexuals and transgender people. It allows non-heterosexual and transgender people to fight against their exclusion from mainstream social and political life. The step into the public realm breaches the traditional, constructed division between the private and the public spheres and results in ‘a politics of sexual citizenship’ that organizations such as Labrys must negotiate in public fora with both the state and other societal groups (Richardson 2000, p. 120). Significantly, the young among non-heterosexual and transgender people are most likely to ‘come out’, even if only in a limited sense, for reasons that will become apparent. We conclude by reflecting on the implications of the multiple meanings of ‘LGBT’ in Kyrgyzstan, both for non-heterosexual and transgender people and society at large. We suggest that by identifying themselves as ‘LGBT’, young people make strategic use of an identity in order to gain access to services and lay claim to basic rights. For non-heterosexual and transgender youth in particular, the emergence of an LGBT movement in the republic represents ‘a moment of citizenship’, to borrow Weeks’ phrase (1998, p. 39). It is an ongoing and often fiercely contested attempt to renegotiate societal norms and the meaning of citizenship that affects their everyday lives. The implications of this process, however, reach far beyond the lives of non-heterosexual and transgender people, raising fundamental questions about relations between the state and the individual and the practices and embodiment of citizenship. Such questions are of relevance to all young people regardless of gender or sexuality, particularly because the answers provided inform the development of Kyrgyzstan’s statehood and understandings of citizenship. Of motivations, methods and materials One of the reasons why we wrote this article is the current lack of attention paid to the lives and experiences of non-heterosexual and transgender people in Kyrgyzstan, as well as Central Asia more widely. However, given the strong reactions that discussions of LGBT rights frequently provoke, there are significant issues for any scholar involved in such an endeavour. In our view, ethical concerns must be prioritized. First and foremost is the possibility that by drawing attention to the presence of LGBT people, we may cause greater harm than good. As noted, non-heterosexual and transgender people in Kyrgyzstan are often subject to unprovoked attacks on the basis on their appearance or mannerisms (Human Rights Watch 2008b). Efforts to claim even the most basic human rights are seen by many in Kyrgyzstan as immoral, shameful and undesirable. For many, the most that non-heterosexual and transgender people can expect is a grudging tolerance, provided they keep their ‘perversion’ private and conform to Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 488 C. Wilkinson with A. Kirey heteronormative societal norms, including in their personal lives (that is, getting married and having children). This attitude was clearly demonstrated in a university professor’s question to a lesbian student: ‘We don’t put you in jail; we don’t beat you; what more do you want?’ (Human Rights Watch 2008b, p. 29). All too often, failure to conform is seen as a justification for the beating or rape of non-heterosexual and transgender people, either as punishment for their ‘deception’, ‘perversion’ or ‘lack of honour’, or as a ‘corrective’ measure. Therefore, in order to minimize the dangers for the participants in this study, we have anonymized or generalized information and restricted our use of sources to those already available in the public domain. In addition, there are other questions: on whose behalf are we speaking, and what is our own position and agenda, both personally and politically? We base our discussion on one particular organization, Labrys, which advocates publicly for LGBT rights and with which both of us have been involved personally and professionally. Anna was a member of the group of young women and transmen who initially founded Labrys in 2004 and currently serves as its Senior Adviser. In addition, she serves on the board of the International Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Trans and Intersex Association (ILGA) Asia and has been lobbying for the rights of women and LGBT people nationally and internationally. Cai initially heard about Labrys while conducting fieldwork for her doctoral thesis in Bishkek in 2005 and subsequently became involved with the group socially. She has maintained an active interest in Labrys’ development since then, and conducted a series of interviews with staff about Labrys’ development in June 2006 (Wilkinson 2006). In writing this article, we have drawn considerably on our own ‘local knowledge’ of the community that has formed around Labrys from our perspectives as participants, as well as on our lives as queer-identified individuals in Kyrgyzstan and elsewhere (Wilkinson 2008). However, our ‘insider’ perspective is at best only partial. For both of us our working languages are Russian and English, with only Anna speaking some Kyrgyz. Neither of us is ‘local’ by citizenship, with both of us originally travelling to Kyrgyzstan to further our education in different capacities. Coming from Ukraine, Anna has, to some degree, access to a set of cultural referents that are common to all post-Soviet countries, but even here the differences are arguably greater than the similarities. In local terms, both of us can be described as ‘European’ in relation to our appearance and behaviour, as well as ‘Western’ (in Cai’s case) or ‘Westernised’ (in Anna’s) in relation to our identities and socio-political views. We have made use of a wide range of sources to inform our account and try to reflect the range of opinions and experiences amongst members of Labrys. In addition to the transcripts of group and individual interviews with six of Labrys’ staff in July 2006, we have referred to reports produced by Labrys for its donors, discussions from Labrys’ online forum,8 posts from Labrys’ blogs,9 articles from the organization’s eponymous magazine, articles from the local media and reports from a number of international organizations. At the same time, the complexity and sensitivity of the issues involved, not least the inherently intersectional nature of identity and the politics of naming and being named, make generalizations extremely problematic, even at the community level, and a source of some anxiety for us. We therefore emphasize that the account and interpretations presented in this paper are ours alone, are in no way definitive, and should not be taken as representative of the views of Labrys or any of its members. Stigma management for ‘would-be’ sexual citizens Goffman (1963) described stigma as an attribute that, if others are aware of it, marks the person as ‘different from others in the category of persons available for him to be and of a less desirable kind’. The result, Goffman asserted, is that the individual in question is ‘reduced . . . from a whole and usual person to a tainted, discounted one’ who is considered to be inferior and a Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 Central Asian Survey 489 danger by virtue of his/her difference from expected stereotypes (pp. 12, 15). In other words, in the eyes of those who claim to conform to social expectations, a person is stigmatized by a discrediting attribute that results from non-conformance, be it physical or behavioural. Goffman distinguished between stigma that result in the bearer being discredited, in which case the stigma is immediately perceivable to those present (on the basis of appearance, for example), and stigma that is discreditable. In this case, it can be concealed. Both homosexuality and gender-variance, whether actual or perceived, are attributes that can be stigmatized, with the degree and effects of the stigma varying considerably between different societies and groups within society. The result of being stigmatized is that non-heterosexual and transgender people are faced with the task of ‘stigma management’ in order to be ‘accepted’ by ‘normals’, as Goffman (1963) called people who are, in a given situation at least, un-stigmatized. Goffman identified a range of ways in which this is undertaken, including ‘a direct attempt to correct what he [the stigmatized individual] sees as the objective basis of his failing’ and efforts aimed at ‘passing’ – that is, aiming to appear and behave like a ‘normal’ (Goffman 1963, pp. 19– 21). In addition, discreditable individuals, amongst whom are many non-heterosexual and transgender people, are likely to practice ‘information control’ during social interactions, making decisions on an ongoing basis about whether it is better to remain ‘in the closet’ or ‘come out’, and, if so, how, when and to whom (Goffman 1963, p. 57). However, not disclosing one’s non-heterosexual or transgender status still requires information control, since there is a danger of being ‘outed’, that is, having someone discover one’s status. In this respect, ‘passing’ can be a risky enterprise, and strategies may be employed to reduce the danger of discovery and resultant opprobrium. Writing about transsexuals, Kando (1972) mentioned strategies such as compartmentalizing one’s life, ‘hermetically segregating those who know from those who do not’ (p. 477).10 While such strategies are employed to a degree by many people as they negotiate multiple social environments, the extent to which non-heterosexual and transgender people depend on them to avoid hostile reactions is significant. In Western societies homosexuality and transgender status have become less stigmatized, with an increasing number of people regarding these identities as within the range of ‘normal’. However, in many other societies, including Kyrgyzstan, they remain strongly stigmatized and are often viewed as a perversion or disease, despite the fact that homosexuality was declassified as a psychiatric disorder in 1993 and homosexual acts were decriminalized in Kyrgyzstan in 1998 (Human Rights Watch 2008b). As such, officials in Kyrgyzstan have argued that the rights of non-heterosexual and transgender people are protected, insofar as they are afforded the same rights as any other citizen (kyrgyzlabrys 2007a). However, this official position fails to recognize the discrimination, hostility and violence faced by non-heterosexual and transgender people on an everyday basis, both in their interactions with the state and their families. The examples catalogued in the aforementioned reports led van der Veur (2004) to dub Kyrgyzstan ‘the country of human rights . . . but not for homosexuals’. In reality, non-heterosexual and transgender people are faced with the daily task of stigma management to ensure their personal safety and well-being, and also to secure access to resources and support. Arguably, the most common strategy is to try and ‘pass’ by avoiding to act in a way that could be read as homosexual. One 25-year-old member of Labrys explained: For example, when we eat out sometimes (if there’s no time to cook at home), we must not show who we are. And this is how we live . . . we must pretend that we are not like ‘them’ [i.e. lesbians], we must be reserved, although we just want to be free. On the streets, among other people, we are not free. We can only be free at Labrys or at home, or in our clubs. So I think it is very hard. And even when we walk down the street holding hands (well, female friends can also walk holding hands), sometimes we get shouts of ‘shameless’ and similar things . . . (Personal interview, 14 December 2005) Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 490 C. Wilkinson with A. Kirey The pressure to conform to societal norms is even stronger within the family and familial home, placing additional strain on young people who are often dependent on their parents. Not only are they in danger of being attacked, but they are also likely to bring ‘shame’ on the family as a whole. The danger of ‘shame’ is not necessarily eliminated if knowledge of a child’s nonheterosexual orientation or transgender status remains within the family. Speaking about her mother’s attitude to same-sex relations, the same member of Labrys was clear on the possible consequences of being identified as a lesbian, noting that reactions were often more hostile in Kyrgyz families than in Russian ones: My mother, a Kyrgyz woman, said if she found out her daughter was a lesbian, she would commit suicide. She said she would hang herself. I think in Muslim families this topic is almost closed, it is not approved by parents. . . .. I think it is easier in Russian families. I have a number of friends, we meet their families. We visit them. They go to their mothers, talk to them, raise children together. In Russian families, in normal ones. I came home with [my girlfriend] several times, and my parents were very displeased, and my mother decided that if I became a lesbian she would hang herself. I think this is the case in every Muslim family. (Personal interview, 14 December 2005) It is often because of such risks that many non-heterosexual and transgender young people choose to move away from their hometown or family, both to minimize the danger to themselves and to their families. Yet away from home, the costs of being ‘outed’ are still potentially ruinous. Physical attacks are far from uncommon, attempts may be made to blackmail individuals, employers may choose to fire the individual in question and he or she may be ostracized. The targeted individuals can do little to protect themselves. Indeed, to add insult to injury, law enforcement officers are often the perpetrators of violent attacks or blackmail (van der Veur 2004, personal interview 26 November 2005, Human Rights Watch 2008b). So are family or friends. During the last few years, Labrys has known of at least six cases of young women in same-sex relationships being kidnapped or threatened by their families and held against their will. Amongst recent incidents have been parents sending their daughters to the United Arab Emirates or Moscow to avoid ‘bad influences’, or to live with relatives in remote areas. Alternatively, the families of non-heterosexual or transgender people may force them to marry or enter into relations with a member of the ‘opposite’ sex in the belief that this will ‘cure’ them (Human Rights Watch 2008b, kyrgyzlabrys 2007b). If non-heterosexual and transgender youth choose to remain in the familial home, or indeed simply in contact with their families, they are forced to comply with their parents’ wishes. Against this background, some non-heterosexual and transgender people have decided to start fighting for their rights, instead of hiding and existing in a state of perpetual fear. As a transman working for Labrys concluded, ‘no-one will give you rights, you have to go and take your rights’ (personal interview, 19 June 2006). At the same time, such conclusions are also survival strategies, representing a last resort when efforts to minimize the effect of one’s non-traditional gender presentation have failed and the person is already experiencing the consequences of not conforming to social expectations.11 The emphasis of most people identifying as LGBT in Kyrgyzstan, therefore, is not on ‘banner waving’, being ‘out’ in general or engendering a sense of pride amongst nonheterosexual and transgender people through public parades, but rather on claiming basic rights and providing support for themselves and others. In addition to being a survival strategy, this course of action marks a change in the strategies used for stigma management amongst nonheterosexual and transgender people. Most centrally, it represents a first step towards becoming ‘sexual citizens’: they claim the right to be fully included in the citizenry and lay claim ‘to the acceptance of diversity, and a recognition of and respect for alternative ways of being, to a broadening of the definition of belonging’ (Weeks 1998, p. 37). As such, those who decide to fight for their rights in some way are challenging the heterosexual and cisgender status quo of Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 Central Asian Survey 491 society, beginning, albeit gradually, to widen existing notions of citizenship that have been silent on the topic of gender and sexuality. Sexual citizenship in the post-Soviet space Literature on sexual citizenship in the countries of the former Soviet Union and the Eastern Bloc is sparse. As a concept, it highlights the problematic notion of distinct and discrete public and ˇ private spheres of social activity. For, as Tereskinas (2007) observed: Socialism was marked by the difference in what was done, said and experienced. However, as scholars of post-socialism argue, the disjuncture between public discourses and ordinary practices of citizens has not disappeared in post-socialist countries . . . It is possible to notice that the state, influential political actors and citizens in their everyday [lives] manipulate the categories of public and private to justify their activities as well to express their power or powerlessness. (p. 78) The topics of sex and sexuality are particularly problematic in relation to any attempt to distinguish between ‘public’ and ‘private’ spheres as a result of this manipulation. Stella (2007), writing about sexual diversity in post-Soviet Russia, noted that sexuality continues to be designated a ‘fundamentally private concern’ (p. 151). Politically it is portrayed as a topic ‘unfit for discussion’ because of ‘its dubious morality and potentially corrupting influence’, with the official refusal to enter into debate assisted by public perceptions that the private sphere is ‘a space to be protected from state intrusion and public scrutiny’ (Stella 2007, p. 150). At the same time, public debates on ‘the nation’ or religion make frequent reference to sexuality and morality. These issues have thus become key elements of public discourse despite their designation as ‘private’ matters. Labrys finds itself having to constantly navigate the paradoxes of this rhetorical delineation of ‘public’ and ‘private’ as discrete spheres. The organization operates in the nominally ‘private’ sphere insofar as it aims to provide support for non-heterosexual and transgender people on a personal basis. However, it is also responsible for taking matters of sexuality into the public and political spheres insofar as it advocates for the protection of the rights of LGBT people as full citizens. In many ways these two endeavours exist in tension with each other, not least because the people on whose behalf Labrys is advocating may prefer to remain out of the public and political eye, believing that greater awareness will lead to greater problems for them on a day-to-day basis. However, as we argue in the following sections, for some non-heterosexual and transgender youth, engaging with Labrys and the LGBT identity associated with it in the private sphere appears to be a stepping stone towards becoming more involved in Labrys’ more public activities. Through this involvement, they become ‘would-be’ sexual citizens who seek to de-stigmatize non-heterosexual and transgender people. Indeed, the establishment of Labrys in response to discrimination could be taken as a first sign of pro-active stigma management. Since Labrys’ inception, however, there has been debate amongst non-heterosexual and transgender people in Kyrgyzstan and Central Asia more widely about the purpose of the organization and its relationship to the people on whose behalf it advocates. These debates reflect the contestation of the discursive division between private and public. Society’s answers to questions about sexual and gender identities, inter-ethnic relations, preferred socio-cultural referents (in crude terms, ‘Western’ versus ‘traditional’ values), religion and economic status all affect people’s lived realities and their capacity to manage their identities. On both individual and societal levels, choosing an ‘LGBT’ identity is a strategy of stigma management particularly prevalent amongst younger non-heterosexual and transgender people, as indicated by the predominance of those under 30 who are involved with Labrys. On an intracommunity and individual level, ‘LGBT’ functions as a common and inclusive label and Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 492 C. Wilkinson with A. Kirey facilitates access to specific services such as LGBT-friendly medical providers and ‘safe’ social spaces such as the community centre and Labrys-run shelter. By using these provisions, LGBT youth move towards a more positive identity management. They reduce isolation and begin to de-stigmatize non-heterosexual and transgender identities, creating the ‘space of being and belonging’ discussed in the following section. In contrast, ‘LGBT’ as a politicized and public identity has been more strongly contested within Labrys. Nevertheless, a small number of younger group members are active in advocating for LGBT rights in public fora, albeit often with more support from international actors than local ones (see below). The personal: LGBT as a space of being and belonging ´ The decision to found Labrys was the result of an incident in a Bishkek cafe in 2004 during which a mainly female group of young people were thrown out after the proprietor allegedly saw two of the girls kiss. Initially, the group wanted to retaliate, then file a complaint, but these options were soon discarded as dangerous for the group’s members, not least because of the risk of being ‘outed’ (Kirey 2007, p. 16). Instead, it was decided to create a group for lesbians, bisexual women and transmen.12 The group adopted the name Labrys because it was a recognized symbol of lesbianism and feminism and thus reflective of the group’s original target membership and, at the same time, ‘vague enough for the state and public, for safety reasons’.13 An additional motivation for the choice was that the name provided a ‘connection to the global LB movement’14 – a factor that was of considerable importance given the hostile local conditions and the importance of moral and practical support from international LGBT activists. During the next few months those involved undertook various activities: they took part in a training on LGBT rights and wrote a special issue of the magazine Oazis entitled ‘Lesbians in Kyrgyzstan: Who Are They?’ The group then formally started working in early January 2005 as an unregistered ‘initiative group’. The members rented an apartment as a base for their activities, which rapidly became a shelter and meeting space where they began to organize training sessions and social events such as discos. In addition, thanks to a grant from the Dutch NGO MamaCash!, a journal, Labrys, was published quarterly with articles written by members. Initially Labrys had an online presence only thanks to the infrequently-updated BeOut!15 website with articles in Russian and English (Djedilbaev 2005). This was extended to an official English-language blog in June 2006 in response to requests by foreign activists for more information about Labrys’ activities.16 Within Kyrgyzstan, the maintenance of an Internet presence was not seen as a priority until more recently, which reflected the low level of Internet use in the republic: as of 2007, there were 14.11 Internet users per 100 inhabitants in Kyrgyzstan, representing a total of 750,000 users (Driesbach et al. 2009). Most locals found out about Labrys through social networks or thanks to the media coverage of press conferences. It was possible to contact Labrys by telephone, but in the interests of safety, address details were not advertised. People in their late teens and early to mid-twenties are most frequently in contact with Labrys and are the most active users. There are several reasons for this. First, people over 35 often do not wish to be associated with Labrys or other visible LGBT organizations because of the associated stigma. In addition, amongst older non-heterosexual and transgender people there may be resistance to the idea of organizing/being organized, especially by younger people. This sentiment was clearly expressed in an excerpt from another online forum that was re-posted as part of a thread on the Labrys forum entitled ‘Alternatives to Labrys’: People! Surely this wasn’t what we dreamed of and wished for? That a group of wet-behind-the-ears children taught us how to live, love and hold our heads up high?!!!! Us, who weren’t hiding in the 80s and 90s, who got beaten up and who were proud of our achievements and being acknowledged. Us, Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 Central Asian Survey 493 who proved to everyone everywhere by dint of our work, behaviour and lifestyle that “the freaks aren’t us”. Us, who didn’t expect handouts and help from the European community and other communities. What do we need to be taught? What do you actually want?? (Thread ‘Alternativa Labrisu’, 15 March 2007) Younger people, by contrast, have grown up in an environment with far greater exposure to Western cultural images and ideas and are used to the presence of a donor-funded third sector that offers opportunities that the state is either unwilling or unable to provide. As such, formal organization is more likely to be seen in a positive light overall, rather than as an unwanted imposition, even if it involves complying with certain ‘strings’ and accepting ‘donor-speak’ to secure funding; for example, the group conducts safer sex seminars and needs to demonstrate commitment to ‘ethnic diversity’ (Group interview with Labrys staff, 19 June 2006). From the inception of Labrys, there was discussion about the organization’s function and purpose. Opinions inevitably varied. Some felt that public activism was a priority, while others were most concerned with having a social space. Labrys’ founders wanted to do both and more, but became increasingly aware of the need to focus on specific activities and try not to ‘include the un-includable’ (group interview, 19 June 2006). As Labrys became more successful and won funding from various international donors, criticism of the organization grew, with accusations of corruption and attempts to settle personal scores. While people continued to ˆ use the services offered, the debate over Labrys’ raison d’etre intensified and became acrimonious at times. Disagreements over this matter were particularly heated in early 2007, as a number of exchanges on the online forum demonstrated. At the root of most of these debates was the fundamental question ‘is Labrys actually needed?’, to quote the title of a bad-tempered forum thread that eventually ran to 90 responses (14 February 2007). Those who mainly needed or wanted a space for socializing tended to criticize Labrys’ activities and the ways in which funds were spent, since they saw it more as a club for staff members than a community organization. By contrast, those who gained major benefits from engagement with Labrys, such as young non-heterosexual and transgender people who used the apartment that Labrys rented as an informal shelter,17 evaluated the organization in a much more positive way, and, in some cases, expressed a greater desire to get more involved. These dynamics indicate the limits of operating primarily on the individual and non-public levels. In effect, at the individual level, Labrys has proved capable of bringing people together physically, thus offering practical stigma management thanks to the provision of a safe space and various services. What it has not done, however, is to shift stigma management away from defensive strategies towards pro-active ones. For that, as we discuss in the next section, non-heterosexual and transgender people must be willing to enter, at least partially, the public sphere and present LGBT as both a personal and a political identity. Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 The Public: LGBT as a politicized identity One distinctive feature of interviews with non-heterosexual men and women in Kyrgyzstan carried out by Labrys’ researchers in 2007 – 08 was the terms used – or, notably, not used – to refer to their sexuality. Amongst women, Russian expressions such as ‘tema’ (slang for ‘family’), ‘takie’ (‘such people’), ‘nashi’ (‘ours’), ‘nu takie kak ia’ (‘well, people like me’) or comments such as ‘I just like women’ were used, or some women preferred not to name themselves, leaving their sexual orientation implied by the silence in the conversation. Amongst men, Russian terms such as ‘gei’ (‘gay’), ‘goluboi’ (slang for ‘gay’, literally ‘sky blue’), ‘pidovka’ (‘queen’) or ‘forced bisexual’ (reflecting the need to marry and procreate, regardless of one’s orientation) were used. In addition, some people describe themselves as ‘ne takie’, meaning 494 C. Wilkinson with A. Kirey ‘not like these’, a firm rejection of being associated with stigmatized non-heterosexual and transgender people. The development of a politicized LGBT identity has been central to the expansion of stigma management from being solely about ‘passing’, remaining hidden, and/or maintaining clear divides between different aspects of one’s everyday life and activities, to also being about claims to basic civil rights. In this process, the act of naming oneself as LGBT is powerful, both personally and socio-politically. In contrast to the ambiguous epithets used by many non-heterosexual people to describe their sexuality such as (in Russian) ‘tema’, ‘takie’, ‘goluboi’, or pejorative ones such as ‘pidovka’, ‘pidory’ (‘faggots’), LGBT embraces a more positive identity that can empower LGBT people to better manage and cope with negative reactions. There are two ways in which this is achieved. First, LGBT is an internationally used term, which helps to link it to the international LGBT rights movement. This movement frames LGBT rights as a matter of universal human rights, and emphasizes the identity of the individual, rather than his or her sexual practices, as the basis for the claim (Richardson 2000, p. 118). Being non-heterosexual or transgender can therefore be presented as an inherent (rather than chosen) identity that affords status as ‘a legitimate minority group’ entitled to state protection (Richardson 2000, p. 118). In addition, connections with the international LGBT rights movement provide moral and financial support, as well as a degree of protection that is unobtainable domestically. For example, in June 2006 when police attempted to raid Labrys’ offices, members began filming as policemen hammered on the door and shouted threats to rape the people inside. A second incident occurred in April 2008 with the presence of representatives from Dutch donor organizations helping to raise the profile of the raid (kyrgyzlabrys 2008a, 2008b). In both cases the recordings were distributed to organizations including Human Rights Watch’s LGBT Rights Program, which subsequently called for an end to ‘anti-gay raids’ following the second incident (Human Rights Watch 2008a). Although such support from the international community is often met with local resistance over the alleged import of ‘Western immorality’, the government of Kyrgyzstan is not entirely immune to criticism because of its dependence on donors. As a result, the official position is either to pay lip service to eliminating violations of human rights, or, more often, to claim that non-heterosexual and transgender people are already fully protected by the law. A representative of the Ombudsman of the Kyrgyz Republic explained the government’s position at a press conference held by Labrys to mark the International Day Against Homophobia in May 2005:18 . . . I don’t think that the state is doing nothing to protect your rights. The state does not divide people into sexual minorities, we’re all citizens, and the state, including representatives of the Ministry of Internal Affairs and the law enforcement agencies, protects your rights as the rights of a citizen, both the basic ones and all the others. I think that the rights of sexual minorities are already protected, despite the fact that there is nothing written in the anti-discrimination legislation about sexual orientation. (quoted in Djedilbaev and Dovgopol 2005, p. 5). Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 Faced with such refusals on the part of the state to even acknowledge the issue of homophobia, the international LGBT movement is equally important as a source of moral support and examples of how to advocate effectively. The chance to meet with LGBT activists from other countries was seen as vital by Labrys staff members, as one person explained: No, in actual fact, trips are a great inspiration, when you see that you’re not the only one like this [odna takaia], because here often people look at you like you’re an idiot – “why the hell are you doing that? What are you doing all this for? and wouldn’t it be easier to just go and drink beer?” But when you spend some time with people who think the same way as you do, who are trying to do the same as you are, who are coming up against the same problems, this is especially important for meeting up with people who are working in the same region. People from the West have slightly Central Asian Survey 495 different problems, and a slightly different approach. When I recall several conversations, meetings, and simply, you see that you’re not alone – it’s the most important thing – it’s that support you need that is impossible to get here. (Group discussion, 19 June 2006) The activities of LGBT rights advocates depend on a willingness to publicly identify oneself as non-heterosexual or transgender, at least in some situations. For many people this is a step too far, for it entails an increased risk to personal safety and brings ‘shame’ on the family. At the same time, many members of Labrys have commented that the most important thing they could do to empower themselves and begin to change hostile social attitudes is to ‘come out’19 to their parents – something that currently few people feel able to do (kyrgyzlabrys 2006). Nevertheless, a small group of young Labrys’ members, all of whom are aged 30 or under, have been willing to come out in some capacity. While only two members have openly declared their non-heterosexual orientation or transgender status – in one case appearing on national television in Kyrgyzstan in 2005, in another case giving an interview to the newspaper Vechernii Bishkek about being transgender (Malikova 2006) – several more have been willing to be ‘out’ in a variety of situations, including press conferences and training with journalists and students at the Ministry of Internal Affairs. To an extent, this willingness is due to the shared conviction that activism is the only way to change the status quo under which ‘we work quietly, love quietly, we’re quietly beaten, quietly raped, the word “lesbian” is used as a curse, we don’t exist amongst official minorities, nor in the pages of reports from human rights organizations or the UN, we’re not discussed in the Jogorku Kenesh’; it is a situation that leads Anna to pose the question in an article in Labrys ‘for how long can one NOT exist?’ (Kirey 2006, p. 4). On the other hand, those who are most likely to come out are those who have little or nothing to lose, which potentially casts ‘coming out’ in a less positive light. This, however, also explains why non-heterosexual and transgender youth are more likely to ‘go public’ than ‘adults’. Regardless of people’s personal motivations, ‘coming out’ is a vital element of pro-active strategies of stigma management, not least because it personalizes the issues and challenges (to return to Goffman’s terms) ‘normals’ to see a whole person to be accorded respect, rather than a discredited bearer of a stigmatized identity. The self-designation as LGBT and identification with an LGBT community, rather than the use of the terms mentioned at the start of the section, provide additional legitimacy since they de-emphasize sexual practices and portray sexual orientation and gender as innate and natural characteristics. In turn, this presentation of non-heterosexual and transgender people as ‘normal’ strengthens the claim to full civil rights. Therefore, the assumption of a public LGBT identity – which is inherently political by virtue of being public – not only represents a shift in the approaches to stigma management used by young non-heterosexual and transgender people, but also lays the groundwork for the future development of sexual citizenship. Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 Conclusion: so what’s in a name? According to Shakespeare’s Juliet, ‘that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet’, yet, as we have explored in this article, the choice of a name or label can have significant effects. Specifically, we have argued that young non-heterosexual and transgender people involved with the NGO Labrys have made strategic use of an ‘LGBT’ identity for stigma management in a number of ways. On a personal level, LGBT serves as a marker of a safe space and a community where one can be open about one’s gender or sexuality. In public, meanwhile, LGBT has provided a link to discourses of universal human rights and consequently served as a way to 496 C. Wilkinson with A. Kirey challenge the stigma associated with being non-heterosexual or transgender and demand recognition and tolerance from mainstream society. However, in laying claim to their rights, non-heterosexual and transgender people are compelled to continually negotiate the boundaries between their public and personal identities, which inherently involves trade-offs. While an increased public awareness and accurate information are required to challenge homophobic and transphobic attitudes, greater publicity can increase the risks, with people finding that their survival strategies may be called into question or rendered untenable. Organizations such as Labrys help to mediate these risks, both by offering support for non-heterosexual and transgender people and by representing their interests in public forums. This work would not be possible without the willingness of at least some people to identify publicly as LGBT and advocate on behalf of other non-heterosexual and transgender people. Significantly, young people are more likely to be involved in activities requiring visibility in the public and political spheres. This may reflect not only generational differences regarding social values but also the more extreme degree of disenfranchisement that young people experience socially and politically. Inevitably, attempts to claim ‘sexual citizenship’ have met with considerable resistance in Kyrgyzstan. Central to these efforts have been attempts by other social actors to maintain and police the constructed division between nominal public and private spheres, with matters of sexuality and gender viewed as a solely ‘private’ matter. A discourse of ‘homosexualism’ is often mobilized on this basis with the aim of de-legitimizing LGBT identities, with comments such as ‘why do you need to advertise what you do in private’ or ‘I don’t have a problem with homosexuals, provided they only do it in private’ featuring prominently, as well as claims about the moral danger posed by acknowledging non-heterosexual and transgender people. Alternatively, relativist narratives may be employed, which present LGBT rights as a minor issue that affects only a few people in comparison with matters such as the government’s oppression of religion. ˇ The effect, as Tereskinas (2009) concluded, is that non-heterosexual and transgender youth currently lay claim to only ‘limited’ sexual citizenship. This also reflects ongoing tensions between strategies of stigma management in the private and public spheres, which continue to be seen in dichotomous terms (p. 86), and ongoing debates about values, morality and Western influence. However, although the term ‘LGBT’ may not be anywhere near de-stigmatized in Kyrgyzstan, it can still provide access to communities and support, which provides a foundation for people to become ‘would-be’ sexual citizens in the future. As such, young non-heterosexual and transgender people’s use of an LGBT identity label offers an example of how other groups in Kyrgyzstan, such as women in general, could begin to negotiate understanding of citizenship that include not only political and civil rights, but also what Plummer (2001) called ‘intimate’ rights, such as the right to have control over one’s body and the right to express one’s gender identity. Such a widening of the scope of citizenship could have significant implications for state-society relations in the future and offers a way for the government to enter into conversation with young people of any sexuality and gender. Acknowledgements The authors would like to thank Labrys, Stefan Kirmse and the anonymous reviewer for helpful and insightful comments. Cai would also like to thank Anna Dovgopol and Dr Jeremy Morris for his comments on earlier drafts. Downloaded By: [Wilkinson, Cai] At: 11:02 25 December 2010 Notes 1. Cisgender refers to people whose gender is congruent with their assigned sex. Central Asian Survey 497 2. We use the term ‘non-heterosexual’ as a more inclusive alternative to homosexual and bisexual in recognition of the diversity of names people choose to describe their sexual orientation. The term ‘transgender’ is used to describe anyone whose gender identity does not correspond to their assigned biological sex at birth. 3. There is no single definition of homophobia or transphobia (Herek 2004). As working definitions, we define homophobia as hostility towards, fear of, prejudice or discrimination against anyone of any gender who is, or appears to be, homosexual or bisexual. Correspondingly, transphobia is hostility, towards, fear of, prejudice or discrimination against anyone who is, or appears to be, transgender. 4. Until 2004, the only NGO working in this area was ‘Oazis’. As of the end of 2009, there were eight registered NGOs working with non-heterosexual and transgender people. None of them are officially registered as LGBT organizations and three include non-heterosexual and transgender people only as groups particularly vulnerable to HIV/Aids. 5. That said, the issuance of documents with the correct gender marker is not subject to any official procedures, but rather depends on the attitude of the officials involved, as illustrated by the story of one transman in T-World, billed as Kyrgyzstan’s first trans-comic, published by Labrys (available for download at http://www.scribd.com/doc/31856221/T-World-Kyrgyzstan-Issue-1). 6. Efforts to register officially as an ‘LGBT’ NGO foundered due to people’s reluctance to have their personal details officially linked with the organization in case it led to harassment or being ‘outed’ by the police or other officials. 7. We use these terms in preference to the more common term ‘private sphere’ in recognition of the artificiality of attempts to construct a clear line between the private and the public spheres. 8. http://labryskg.2bb.ru 9. http://kyrgyzlabrys.livejournal.com, http://kyrgyzlabrys.wordpress.com. 10. The terms and language used by Kando to describe transsexual women are crude and insensitive by today’s standards. Nevertheless, his study remains relevant in describing how some transwomen manage their identity, particularly in places where there is much hostility towards and little understanding about transgender issues. 11. ‘Non-traditional gender presentation’ is any appearance and/or behaviour that does not conform to societal standards for what is ‘normal’ for women and men. As such, it is determined by others’ perceptions and not self-identification, and can affect heterosexual and/or cisgender people as well as non-heterosexual and transgender people. 12. Labrys expanded its remit to include non-heterosexual men and transwomen in 2007, partly in response to the closure of the NGO Oazis, which had worked with gay and bisexual men and also men who have sex with men for over 15 years. Oazis closed following the discontinuation of funding from donors. However, as of November 2010 it appears that Oazis is once again active. 13. Personal correspondence with the member of the original initiative group who suggested the name Labrys, 15 October 2010. 14. Ibid. 15. Available at: www.beout.org. 16. The blog began at http://kyrgyzlabrys.livejournal.com/ before moving to http://kyrgyzlabrys. wordpress.com/. Both blogs have now been replaced by a website, http://www.labrys.kg/, in Russian and English. 17. Labrys initially received funding from the Global Fund for Women to provide a shelter in September 2005. Despite issues finding suitable premises at times, this has been one of the key services provided by Labrys. 18. The Ombudsman of the Kyrgyz Republic is responsible for ensuring that the human rights and freedoms of citizens are observed. http://www.ombudsman.kg/ 19. ‘Coming out’ describes the process of self-acceptance, self-discovery and openness of non-heterosexual and transgender people about their sexual orientation and/or gender identity. 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