This distancing of sexuality from questions of transnational feminism or rather the practice of deploying an uninterrogated heterosexuality within transnational feminist analyses both cedes the domain of sexuality to LGBTT/queer studies and renders an incomplete story of the ways in which the racialized gendered practices of neoimperial modernity are simultaneously sexualized.
(Alexander and Mohanty 2010, 37)
Some of my most vivid and perplexing memories as a teenager are of a group of gaudily dressed masculine-feminine performers clapping loudly while singing outside homes celebrating marriages and childbirth. I also remember being confused on learning that two girls, students in a Delhi University college, were expelled for public displays of affection with each other. And I wondered how it was possible that my hairdresserâs husband was rumored to be sexually interested in workers at his construction company. Nobody around me used the terms transgender, lesbian, gay, or bisexual to describe hijras, women desiring women, men desiring men, and married men and women expressing same-sex desire in the India of the early 1980s. It was only later in the decade that feminist journals such as Manushi and gay magazines such as Bombay Dost provided Indians of my generation with a vocabulary for gender differences and sexual identities.
In this book I read feminist, gay, lesbian, and queer movement publications as activist literature to offer a feminist-queer history based on deep readings of these materials from the late 1970s to late 1990s. As documents and records of activism, these publications inscribed postcolonial genders and sexualities with cautious publicness that led to LGBTQ+ emergence from closeted enclaves to global arenas.1 While feminist magazines have been frequently and consistently consulted as historical resources over the past few decades, postcolonial LGBTQ newsletters and magazines are infrequently used.2 The central premise of Worlding Postcolonial Sexualities is that postcolonial studies, offering astute analyses of folklore, mythology, literature, film, theatre, art, music, dance, and law as sites of resistance to normative codes of gender and sexuality, will be richer in considering feminist and LGBTQ print media as equally important for histories of gender and sexuality. Preceding digital modes of connection and community building, these media describe an anteriority of local, national, and transnational connections, insufficiently examined in postcolonial gender and sexuality studies. Engaging three global South contexts, Jamaica, India, and South Africa, my goal is to chart common grounds of feminist-queer solidarities toward decolonial futures.
The heuristic âworldingâ describes how public emergence of feminist and queer activism â in response to colonial legislative legacies criminalizing sexual minorities, neoliberal development policies, increase in social-sexual violence, health crises fueled by unsafe contraceptives and the AIDS epidemic â led to hitherto unprecedented global discussions on postcolonial sexualities in the last three decades of the twentieth century. Worlding owes its conceptual charge to literary studies,3 international studies (Pettman 1996/2004; Tickner 2001), and urban studies (Roy 2011; Ong 2011). These accounts enable ways of seeing, learning, thinking, and knowing by diagnosing the imperialist-colonialist basis of North-South interactions, and ways to counter these by prioritizing South-South exchanges. My comparisons in this book are based on âresearch of an intermediate scale above the nation-state and below the world-systemâ (Cheah 2016, 5). The formation of feminist and queer organizational and print networks was part of a wider decolonial project to combat the colonizer-colonized relations of power/knowledge that dominated many Asian, African, and Caribbean nations and retained their hold in changed conditions of postcolonial governance. These networks played a key role in changing the direction of knowledge production about gender and sexuality. That Jamaica, India, and South Africa have some of the highest levels of violence against women and sexual minorities in the world at once complicates the task of changing the directionality of feminist-queer analysis and makes it even more imperative. The multifaceted critical purchase of worlding in this book is as follows: it describes how activists respond to sexualized violence, health crises, and outmoded legislation; defines how postcolonial feminists and queer activists create national, regional, and transnational alliances; and engages with the ways in which these concerns emerge in the transnational public sphere.
These actions of creation, emergence, and response enable a postcolonial feminist and queer history heeding M. Jacqui Alexander and Chandra Mohantyâs important call to interrupt âunexamined heterosexualityâ in transnational feminist analysis and establish the âdomain of sexualityâ as common ground between feminist and LGBTQ+ activists. Observing the trajectory of Southern feminist and queer movements over the past decade I felt a rising urgency to think more about this common ground. Perhaps this urgency is a reflection of the push and pull of local-global forces which lead to sexual victories and sexual precarities: Jamaicaâs history of gay liberation is all but forgotten amid accounts of rampant homophobia even as women, gays, and lesbians there struggle to achieve piecemeal legislative changes amid increased sexual violence; Indiaâs womenâs, gay, and lesbian movements have celebrated recent legislative gains that have not helped curb endemic and brutal rapes garnering global notoriety for the country; South Africa has emerged as a pioneer in guaranteeing gendered and sexual rights at a time when many African gay, lesbian, and womenâs movements face extreme social backlash and sexual violence is on the rise. Discussing select publications from each of these contexts, Worlding Postcolonial Sexualities addresses the following questions: What is the archival status of feminist and queer publications as activist literature within and outside their countries of origin? Why is this body of work scarcely mined in postcolonial gender and sexuality studies? What does the increasing valence of ârightsâ talk evinced in these publications mean for global South feminist and queer movements? How do we develop historical and cultural methods for analyzing the publics and counterpublics preceding these media and brought into being by them? And finally, what lessons do these semi-remembered counterpublics carry for us two decades into the twenty-first century?
I did not locate these archival materials amid the âdustâ that Carolyn Steedman (2002) eloquently theorizes as an occupational hazard for cultural historians; I found them in personal collections, organization offices, university libraries, and, more recently, in digital forums.4 In this introductory chapter, I begin with a broad-strokes sketch of feminist and queer concerns documented in these publications, fill in the details of socio-political contexts of activism, and finally, gloss the emerging shades and shapes of postcolonial feminist-queer coalitions towards panoramic comparisons. The chapters that follow describe the origins, form, content, and politics of newsletters, newspapers, journals, and magazines from the 1970s to the 1990s. These publications depict emerging postcolonial sexual publics in two distinct narrative forms: journalistic reportage, case histories, campaign accounts, meeting records, manifestoes, action documents (the social); and fiction, non-fiction, poetry, and drama (the literary). The publications are primarily in English, originate from urban metropolitan, multilingual locations, and serve as partial historical sources. Mine is a necessarily partial account since a comprehensive history of postcolonial sexualities demands engagement not only with activist literature in local languages from non-urban locations but also oral histories beyond the scope of my study. First, a turn to national and transnational framings of rights and development that contextualize postcolonial feminist and LGBTQ activist publications in the final decades of the long twentieth century.
Worlding sexualities in gender time
An unobstructed path from feminist to gay and lesbian to queer activism, in which social movements steadily learn from previous exclusions and march towards idealized inclusiveness and perfected political strategies, presents an uncomplicated but historically inaccurate map. Such a map cannot easily account for dissensions and contradictions within and between movements. Feminist and queer scholars have challenged such linearities, temporalities, and spatialities (Grewal & Kaplan 2001; Freeman 2010; Arondekar & Patel 2016). Highlighting non-linearities, my account similarly pushes against existing historical and geographical specializations in postcolonial studies to think through feminist, gay, lesbian, and queer studies in a comparative framework.5 The analyses offered in the chapters raise several challenging queries addressed through South-South comparisons: How does the Indian trajectory of gender and sexuality-based activism, with its oscillation between progressive and retrogressive ideologies, compare with Jamaican and South African postcolonial sexual histories? How do we account for the Jamaican stateâs recalcitrance on legalizing abortion and decriminalizing homosexuality when writing comparative postcolonial sexual histories? Is it valid to cite South Africa as exemplary in securing constitutional freedoms for gay and lesbian citizens despite its high rates of âcorrective rapeâ against lesbian women and a significant section of people living with HIV/AIDS without adequate recourse to treatment? These queries disrupt neat narratives of progress from colonial domination to postcolonial liberation to decolonial futures assuring improved lives and rights for women and LGBTQ+ citizens.
Cross-border teaching, activism, scholarship, and pedagogy has influenced the comparative analyses in Worlding Postcolonial Sexualities that combine archival research, examination of national and international social, cultural, and legal policies, close readings of the contents of representative publications, and interviews with activists and founding editors. Revisiting âUnder Western Eyesâ several decades after it was first published, Chandra Talpade Mohanty sketches a curricular strategy she calls âThe Feminist Solidarity or the Comparative Feminist Studies Modelâ based on âunderstanding the historical and experiential specificities and differences of womenâs lives as well as the historical and experiential connections between women from different national, racial, and cultural communitiesâ that would organize syllabi around areas like sex work, militarization, environmental justice, and human rights (2003, 243). Inderpal Grewal and Caren Kaplan question âthe distinctness of areas presupposed by the comparative frameworkâ while ârespecting the speciďŹcities of historical and cultural conjecturesâ to arrive at ânew insights into the workings of gender and patriarchy across various borders rather than simply within the parameters of the state or the nation.â (2001, 668â669). Over the years this book took shape, I taught several graduate courses on transnational feminist and queer studies. One iteration of the course connected feminist and queer studies to introduce two important modes of thinking and activism, their separations, and the intersectional social, political, and academic potentialities of race, class, caste, religion, gender, sexuality, and nationality. The course description emphasized the complementarity of feminist and queer approaches in responding to the AIDS crisis, sexual violence, and the sex panics of the previous decade that prefigured the emergence of queer studies in the 1990s. In retrospect, I was testing the North-South approach to gender and sexuality studies, learning from my students the ways in which these comparisons challenge assumptions about feminist and queer movements in the South, and working out how to ârewrite postcolonial gender histories of social change in conversation with studies of decolonization, anticapitalist critique, and LGBTT/queer studies in the North and the Southâ (Alexander & Mohanty 2010, 25).6
My training in literary studies, especially the work of comparatists and feminist intellectuals who deploy narrative analysis to study gender and sexuality, has been crucial in the connections between feminist and queer analyses (Apter 2010; Hemmings 2011; Lanser 2014â2015). Narrative and womenâs studies scholar Susan Lanserâs argument that comparative studies today can be as much about âconfluenceâ as it was about âinfluenceâ in the recent past and her call for the interconnectedness of queer and feminist critiques have been central to the analyses offered in this book:
Modifying feminist with queer resists a feminism that would promote stable or unified, cross-cultural or cross-temporal categories of sex, gender, or sexuality. But anchoring queer with feminist reminds us that however queer we might want comparative literature â or the world â to be, heteronormative and gender-based hierarchies, inequalities, oppressions and suppressions are global phenomena, if widely diverse in configuration.
(2014â2015)
Lanserâs awareness of inequalities and oppressions echoes transnational feminist work in the global South which often mingles âquestions of access to drinking water with those of access to antiretroviral drugs, and the languages and spaces of âempowermentâ and poverty with those of intimacies and sexualitiesâ (Nagar & Swarr 2010, 13). Examining three configurations and terrains of struggles meant delving into social, political, and legal contexts of feminist and LGBTQ+ activism including sustained interaction with collectives and organizations. From 2008â2020, I attended meetings, observed and participated in performances, and sat in on community outreach workshops and training sessions in India, Jamaica, and South Africa. I also conducted semi-structured interviews and had numerous recorded and unrecorded conversations with activists to seek connections between the production of knowledges and âa politics of social change in favor of the less privileged people and placesâ (Nagar 2014, 94).
The activist literature (magazines, newsletters, newspapers, and journals) analyzed in Worlding Postcolonial Sexualities translate middle-class and subaltern experiences into feminist and queer analyses for a local and national readership across varying levels of literacy. Nation, location, translation, and language are useful heuristics in âengendering a mapâ that is âattentive to different spatializations in the construction of sexualitiesâ (Alexander & Mohanty 2010, 36) to assess the specific impact of these publications. Benedict Andersonâs important claim that the nation as an imagined community is dependent both on the emergence of print and comparisons with pre-existing forms of national...