Allah loves equality : homonationalism and every-day practices of homosexual Muslims in Italy

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Allah Loves Equality

Homonationalism and every-day practices of homosexual Muslims in Italy

Alice Consigli

11240431

MSc Sociology: Migration and Ethnic Studies

Graduate School of Social Sciences University of Amsterdam

7th of July 2017 Amsterdam

Word count: 25,635

1st_Supervisor ₂nd_Supervisor

Dr. Paul Mepschen Dr. Yannis Tzaninis University of Amsterdam University of Amsterdam

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Acknowledgments

First and foremost, I would like to thank all the people who participated to this research sharing their time and insights with me. Never had I expected to encounter so many beautiful minds and inspiring souls: their contribution was essential not only for the development of this work, but also for my personal growth. Thank you!

I would also like to thank my supervisor Paul Mepschen, without whose guidance and critical perspective I would have not been able to complete this project and constantly challenge myself as a social researcher.

Special thanks also go to Dany Carnassale, with whom I had the honour to discuss my findings, and whose advice was key for developing coherence and meaningful interpretations along the research.

I want to extend my gratitude to Rollie Kielman, supportive friend and inspiring colleague; but mostly, accurate proof-reader, whose work was comparable to an academic supervision. Last but not least, I would like to thank all the people who supported me in different ways and through different means during this last year: my family, my Amsterdam folks and my friends from home.

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Introduction

Since the beginning of the 21st_{century, Europe has witnessed the rise of an ever-increasing number}

of Muslim communities. Muslims represented 4% of the European population in 1990, increasing to 6% in 2010, and expected to reach 8% by 2030; including a wide range of nationalities, from the Middle-East, to East Asia, North Africa and Eastern Europe (Hackett 2016). The increasing presence of Muslims in Europe has tested the capability of many countries to accommodate and recognise various religious values, more often resulting in a confrontational tension between the predominantly “secular West” and the “theocratic Islam”. As Turner points out:

With the collapse of organized communism in 1989-1992, Western politics lost its Other. During the last decade, Islam has been constructed as the unambiguous enemy of western civilization […] the clash is inevitable and deeply embedded in two different cultural systems: one that separates God and Caesar, and one that pulls them together. (Turner 2002, 109)

The higher degree of secularization in most European countries has fed a public discourse that sees Islam as unable to share the categories of liberal pluralism, among which gender equality and sexual freedom. In the Netherlands, for instance, Muslims have become the clearest target of a cultural protectionism – or “neoculturalism” – that portrays them as intolerant, backward and homophobic; in other words, in neoculturalist discourse Muslim culture has been identified as diametrically opposed to the values of progress and sexual emancipation upon which Dutch society has built its own identity (Uitermark et al., 2014; Mepschen 2016). As a result, liberalism has created the conditions for conservatism to grow, in the sense that the neoculturalist rhetoric in the Netherlands has merged the discourse of sexual progress with anti-Muslim and anti-immigration standpoints (ibid.). Put it differently, sexual liberation is mobilised to frame Europe as the “avatar of both freedom and modernity” (Butler, 2008: 2). At the same time, Muslim citizens are framed as jeopardising such freedom with a culture that is discursively depicted as conservative and backward.

Likewise, the British discourse on Muslims has been characterized by a high degree of Islamophobia, particularly fed by media, and often reified by politicians (Versi, 2016). As in the Dutch case, Islamophobia in the UK is justified and supported by similar forms of “cultural racism” (Modood, 2005; Foner, 2008). As Fassin argues, in France sexuality became entangled with narratives of national identity and the State’s secularisation, especially with regards to the position of Muslim women, whose veil has been “sexualised” (Fassin, 2010b). Sexual politics have become,

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in many Western countries, a politicised tool that set the boundaries between “us” and “them”, where the latter is identified as the “homophobe” Muslim.

This tendency has clearly impacted the way Islam is publicly understood, defining it as a homogeneous and monolithic group. The category “Muslim” has not been problematised as the object of discussion; instead, it has been used as a tool of analysis, thus reifying a dichotomy which defines two mutually exclusive and internally homogeneous groups (Brubaker, 2013). Clearly, this tendency overlooks not just the ethnic and national diversity that Islam as a religion and as a culture embraces, but also the diversity of values and identities that are shared by an ever-increasing number of Muslim communities (Husain et al., 2000; Rahman, 2010).

Indeed, the abundance of LGBT Muslim communities in many Western countries is challenging this public discourse and revealing the lack of its societal foundation. In their claim to live their religious identity in conjunction with their sexual orientation, communities of LGBT Muslims show the serious consequences that such minorities face on the theoretical and practical level, thus illuminating the need to rephrase dominant social representations both from the eastern and western perspective.

LGBT Muslims are shown to face multiple forms of exclusion and discrimination for they are “always ontologically deferred from the dominant identity categories of ‘gay’ and ‘Muslim’” (Rahman, 2010: 946). Many scholars in Europe, the U.S. and Canada have, in fact, emphasised how their particular position reveals the high level of vulnerability of a sub-minority which is discriminated on three levels: by the heteronormative community of co-ethnics, the dominant heteronormative community, and the dominant homonormative culture (Yip, 2004; Randazzo, 2005; Rahman, 2010; Kahn, 2015). In this sense, discrimination reveals a multi-dimensional shape, as it manifests in multiple contexts and with a variety of actors.

If this happens to be the case in many Western countries, the lack of research on such topics in Italy makes it problematic to apply such considerations to its context. Focusing more generally on the case of LGBT migrants, Italian scholars have pointed out how they are often “doubly stigmatised in terms of identity, crossing social visions discrediting both ethnicity and culture, and non-normative sexual orientation” (Masullo, 2015: 384). In 2008, research co-financed by Arcigay Italy and the Ministry of Social Politics investigated multiple issues experienced by LGBT migrants in their daily lives in Italy. The research revealed forms of exclusion perpetuated both by their co-ethnics – that in the integration process represent an important source of social capital, and protection from ethnic and religious discrimination in the country of destination – and by the

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LGBT communities, as they often convey a non-heterosexual identity which is inscribed in Western practices and models (Ministero del Lavoro, della Salute e delle Politiche Sociali & ArciGay, 2008) These findings reveal the need to problematise the political and public discourse about the incompatibility of Western values with non-Western cultures, and encourage further research on how individuals that fit in both of the supposedly opposite categories negotiate their identities, live multiple forms of exclusion and re-phrase dominant representations. More specifically, the case of LGBT Muslims – since Islam is often explicitly addressed in the public discourse of neo-nationalist parties and neoliberal governments – will highlight the multiple layers of a still unspoken issue. In fact, although some LGBT Muslim communities have been object of a number of studies in countries like the U.S., the UK and the Netherlands, (Jivraj et al., 2011; Yip, 2004; Rahman, 2010; Kahn, 2015) Italy still lacks literature specifically concerning LGBT individuals of Islamic religion. Masullo identifies the reason for this delay in:

“the persistence of an attitude that assumes ‘compulsory heterosexuality’ as a natural fact and at the same time in the persistence of an ‘ethnocentric’ attitude in believing that our country [Italy] does not present major problems with respect to the possibility of living freely one’s sexual orientation”. (2015b: 127)

Indeed, Italian society presents different features when compared to most Northern European countries. In respect to the development of sexual politics, the strong presence of the Church and the political weakness of Italian institutions have impeded a process of secularisation in line with countries like the Netherlands or the UK. Hence, both from a social and political point of view, it is hard to contend the existence of homonormative understandings of national identity and citizenship. At the same time, as the country has gradually turned from an emigration to an immigration net1_{, discourse about citizenship and the “other” have gained increasing public}

attention (Bonifazi et al., 2009)

The present research addresses the social positioning of homosexual Muslims2_{in Italy. More}

specifically, its main objective is to shed light on the issues that these subjects face in the Italian context, and to understand how religion and sexuality are negotiated on the individual level and in relation with different actors. By opening space for the interpretation of the ways they interact in different social contexts, it is possible to reveal some degree of agency that these individuals are able to express in circumstances of multiple discriminations. More specifically, homosexual Muslims find themselves deferring from more than one dominant representation. On the one hand,

1_{Especially since 2000, when Italy witnessed the presence of more than one and a half a million of regular immigrants,}

the political discussion about immigration has become steadily harsher (ibid.).

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major Islamic institutions and discourses portray homosexuality as a sin, and thus homosexuals as underserving worshippers. On the other, the history of the Western LGBT culture has developed some ideas about homosexual identities, which are deeply embedded in notions of visibility and public revindication. These notions seldom represent the experiences of those with a different cultural background – which represents one of the layers of oppression above mentioned (Rahman, 2010).

Hence, this research also aims to understand if and in what ways homosexual Muslim men engage in processes of resistance and re-representation of normalised idea of “homosexuality” and dominant understanding of religious norms and practices. Another aspect of the issue consists of the development of public rhetoric which depicts Islam as the number-one enemy of LGBT people and rights. Thus, the tendency to identify sexual liberation and gender equality as milestones of the nation’s identity – what Puar defined “homonationalism” (2007) – makes it possible, on a discursive level, to mobilise homonormative ideas in racialized discourses. Such instrumentalisation, further reinforces the idea of the “homophobe other”, making it available on a broader, national level.

The research was conducted in the city of Bologna and involved homosexual Muslim men, Italian LGBT activists – two of whom were specifically concerned with projects for support to LGBT migrants (MigraBo LGBT) and inclusion of religious diversity in LGBT activism and discourses (Il Grande Coibrì) – and two Muslim women. In addition to that, data was also derived from diaries written by homosexual Muslim men on their blog of Il Grande Colibrì.

The present research tackles three main topics, which are discussed along with three sections describing the findings. The first section introduces the Italian context in respect to the political and social discourses that are being mobilised. More specifically, I analyse if and how homonationalism manifests in Italy, showing its complexity and paradoxical outcomes. The second section dives more extensively in the life experiences of homosexual Muslim men in Italy. Indeed, I illustrate the issues related to the application of Western categories for homosexuality to the life experiences of homosexual Muslim men. The third section discusses the multiple discriminations that homosexual Muslims face in the Italian context and in relation with a variety of actors (the family, the community of co-ethnics, the Italian LGBT scene). Furthermore, it presents the ways in which homosexual Muslims express their agency in such contexts, and elaborate discourses that contest dominant representations of “homosexuality” and “Islam”.

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The study seeks to contribute to present research on at least four levels. Firstly, to shed light on current Italian public discourse, and to possibly assess in what ways values of sexual freedom and gender equality are instrumentalised against Islam or in racialized ways in general– a recognised and growing trend in most Western liberal democracies. Secondly, to show how the application of allegedly universal categories for homosexuality to individuals with a different ethnic and religious background may result inappropriate, and may lead to the (auto)exclusion of such subjects from places of LGBT aggregation. Thirdly, to reveal the extent to which forms of multiple exclusions are experienced by homosexual Muslim men, thus highlighting the impact on their own lived identities and practices. Finally, to emphasise the need, at least on a theoretical and methodological level, to theorise forms of identity which are able to represent voices from a position of difference. In other words, in this paper I want to highlight to what extent and in what ways these subjects are capable to resist and rephrase dominant discourses about Islam in Europe, and express agency in circumstances of multi-stigmatisation.

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Notes on terminology

❖ One of the issues when interviewing and writing about same-sex topics is using terms that are accurate and acceptable to the people involved. The English language provides the words “gay” and “homosexual” as rather neutral and interchangeable terms to use for people with same-sex relationships. However, in the context of Arab and Islamic societies, the applicability of such terms is more complicated (Whitaker, 2006). Indeed, the words hold connotations of certain lifestyles, practices and ideas that were born and diffused in the West. This issue will be thoroughly discussed in the first section of the findings, and represents one core aspect of the research. Nonetheless, for the purpose of this research, it is essential to specify how the terms have been used. In this respect, I draw on Whitaker’s English usage of the following concepts, used as analytic categories:

“Homosexuality: acts and feelings of a sexual nature between people of the same gender, whether male or female, and whether the people involved regard themselves as gay, lesbian, etc.

Homosexual: behaviour, feelings, practices, etc., directed towards people of the same gender.” (Whitaker, 2006).

❖ Brubaker emphasised the importance to differentiate “Muslim” from a category of practice and a category of analysis. Indeed, by overemphasising the role of Islam in people’s beliefs and practices, scholars, media outlets and public discourses have fostered misinformation about a very culturally differentiated religious group (2013). It is indeed important to bear in mind the difference between culture and religion, especially in contexts in which religion has been culturalised. Such difference is particularly significant as in public discourses the term “Muslim” is being applied to any ethnic group, almost without considering ethnic and cultural variations. For the purpose of this research, the term “Muslim” and “Islam” have been adopted to represent a set of ethics, expectations and practices that influence the perception of the social world, and set the acceptance of the individual in the community of co-ethnics. Such rules and morals are thought to be established by the religious community of the respondents, and are identified as being part of the religion or of the dominant discourse conveyed by the Muslim community either in their country of origin or in Italy.

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❖ A liberal democratic society can be defined according to many perspectives. What is central in this research though, is the foundation of the social order in democratic contexts, and in what is known as “sexual democracy” (Fassin, 2010). At the general level of its foundation, a democratic society can be defined by its claim that norms and laws are the result of public deliberation and private negotiations – laws, in other words, are not imposed by transcended authorities that escape political and historical change, like God, Nature or Tradition. Therefore, the order of the things in the world is understood as a social order, subject to critique and change, not an immobile, natural one. In this scenario, liberty and equality represent legitimate claims which are at the basis of the definition of both gender and sexuality, and the core values of neoliberal democracies in the field of sexual politics.

❖ In the present research, with the term “homosexual Muslim men” I refer to some participants of the interviews. However, it is important to stress that not all of them where themselves practicing Islam. With that terminology, I also include individuals who did not identify as Muslim themselves, but who were raised in a Muslim family, and therefore were exposed to the expectations and practices that Islam conveys through the family unit.

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Theoretical Framework

1.1. The culturalization of sexual citizenship: from Northern to Southern Europe

From an historical point of view, citizenship was first conceived as possessing nationality and, accordingly, certain rights and obligations. Only with the 20th century development of the welfare state, could citizenship be understood in terms of accessibility to civic and political rights (Marshall, 1950). However, both conceptions overlooked the role of culture, ethnicity and religion, which has now become one of the most relevant features of citizenship. Indeed, the debate about citizenship in many Western countries has largely involved topics of sexual freedom and gender equality, as gender politics has recently become a core factor in liberal democratic practices. The notion of citizenship has been expanded to include sexuality and intimacy, thus making the personal a political matter, and thus casting the private onto the public stage. This new type of citizenship, also defined as “sexual citizenship” (Richardson, 2000), fostered the recognition of sexual issues – including the right to pleasure and self-definition, self-realisation and self-expression, but primarily the right to publicly recognise relationships – and allowed the advancement of sexual rights as part of what the citizens should support and be granted.

As any concept of citizenship implies “the other who is not citizen” (Plummer, 2003), the “Muslim” has been curbed in a discourse that equate them with homophobia and deprivation of female freedom. Thus, not only has Islam come to represent the emblem of intolerance, lack of gender equality, and strict heteronormativity, but in the Western imaginary the term “Muslim” has also come to designate a homogeneous and monolithic group (Khan, 2000; Rahman, 2010; Brubaker, 2013). In fact, this is the main feature of a phenomenon that many scholars (Phillips, 2007; Foner, 2008; Rahman, 2010) recognise as the tendency to employ culture in a discourse “that denies human agency, defining individuals through their culture, and treating culture as the explanation for virtually everything they say and do.” (Phillips, 2007: 9). In other words, sexuality has become a prominent feature in what has been defined as the “culturalization of citizenship”, a tendency that constructs the modern self upon Western and liberal values, while depicting the “other” as uncivilised and backward (Brown, 2006; Mepschen et al., 2010; Duyvendak et al., 2016).

The mobilisation of culture in the citizenship debate has had many implications on both the social and political levels, including what many scholars have identified as the emergence of new collective struggles taking the form of cultural conflicts (Weeks, 1998; Brown, 2006; Duyvendak et al., 2016). In many Northern European liberal democracies culture has been subordinated to liberalism, conceived as the only political rationality that, by liberating the individual from the constraints of

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religion, can produce tolerance and promote individual autonomy. This thus led to associating intolerance with fundamentalism, understood as the promotion of religion and culture at the expenses of the individual agency (Brown, 2006). Brown identified the paradoxical outcome of such an equation in the representation of liberal societies as the apex of civilization and culture productions, while assigning liberalism the task of liberating individuals from the constraints of culture, at least on a public and moral level. These moves render liberal values not only universal – as opposed to the particularity of culture – but also ‘universalisable’ and capable of accommodating every culture. At the same time, non-liberal values are seen as the clearest expression of fundamentalism, intolerance and the “dangerousness of unindividuated humanity” (Brown, 2006: 312).

Among the values which this ‘liberal imperialism’ vouched for, sexual freedom and gender equality rights have recently become tools for a political contestation of Islam. Not only have these values been mobilised within a secular critique of religion, but they have also been proclaimed as the foundations of the European culture and identity for centuries (Weeks, 1998; Wekker, 2009; Mepschen et al., 2010). A genealogy of liberal secularism, in fact, showed both the striking similarities between secular and religious contemporary societies, and the very recent development of liberalism towards sexual and gender rights protection; thus, emphasising its political instrumentalisation and lack of historical foundation (Scott, 2009).

The mobilisation of LGBT rights has come to constitute a political discourse where “gay rights and public gayness comes to be associated with Islamophobia, while solidarity with Muslims against Islamophobia is represented, especially by the populist right, as trivializing or even supporting ‘Muslim’ homophobia” (Mepschen et al., 2010: 965). The juxtaposition of a homo-friendly Europe and homophobic Islam recalls what Puar has defined as “homonationalism” (2007), referring to the governmental discourse and LGBT politics that invoke a divide between the West and Islam. This rhetoric, that raised in the aftermath of the 9/11, found its primary rationale in the convergence of sexual politics with nationalist discourses (Puar, 2007). However, homonationalism has not been recognised as a merely U.S. phenomenon. Indeed, Europe has witnessed the rise and spread of homonationalist discourses, within the larger trend of the culturalization of citizenship in those European liberal democracies with a larger share of Muslim population and a longer history of migration, such as France, Germany, UK and the Netherlands (Hackett, 2016). The instrumentalisation of such claims by nationalist and neoliberal parties has been recognised as constituting one of the most peculiar characteristics of the current political conjuncture in Europe and the Western world in general (Farris, 2012; Mepschen et al., 2010; Duyvendak et al., 2016).

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Nevertheless, associating such trends to the political situation of Southern European countries may proof inaccurate.

In fact, the prevalence of strictly heterosexual understanding of national identities in some European societies, aligned with a delayed recognition of civic rights for homosexual couples as well as the lack of anti-homophobic discrimination laws, may position nations such as Italy in an exceptional position compared to the rest of Europe. Santos (2013), for instance, emphasised the presence of a strict and ever reinforced heteronormativity in Southern European countries like Italy, Spain and Portugal, due to two main features: the family discourse and the child value-discourse. In these countries, sexual citizenship bore a strong catholic influence which constrained the idea of the family within the rigid margins of monogamy and the unique aim of reproduction. The child, at the same time, was included in a rhetoric that focused on nature and which considered the heteronormative family the best unit into which being raised. If Spain then followed a different development – due to the association of the Catholic Church with the Franco’s regime – and eventually recognised sexual rights, Italy still bears the weight of the Church’s social and political influence (Santos, 2013).

The difficulty of applying the concepts of culturalization of (sexual) citizenship to the case of Italy was also highlighted by the work on homonationalism made by Colpani (2014), who criticised the tendency to frame homonationalism as a European phenomenon. Given Italy’s peripheral position on matters of sexual politics – lack of LGBT civil rights and evident homophobia – it is important to distinguish between the national and European scale. Colpani encouraged to think about European homonationalism as a phenomenon that takes place differently in different social settings – rather than a homogeneous European tendency (ibid.). In this way, it is possible to see how Europe became, in the rhetoric of the Italian LGBT movement, an object of desire, and an institution that helped advance LGBT civil rights in the national context. Overall, the delay in the advancement of sexual politics recognition, and the strong influence that the Church still exercises in society and politics, make contextualising “homonationalism” or the “culturalization of sexual citizenship” extremely difficult in Italy.

Nonetheless, in this paper I also aims to assess the extent to which the discourses about citizenship and national identity address LGBT right, and are mobilised against Muslims. Such analysis is indeed essential to assess the social positioning of LGBT Muslims and their relations with a variety of actors (population, LGBT culture, organisations, institutions) in the Italian context.

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1.2. The double stigma

One of the most prominent aspects highlighted by studies on LGBT Muslims or migrants in receiving countries consists of the double stigma that these individuals face because of their sexual and religious belonging. As Yip pointed out, because of their sexual orientation they are excluded from their ethnic group: “the dualistic construction of moral purity (Islam sexuality) and moral profanity (western homosexuality) renders non-heterosexual Muslims traitors of not only their religion, but also their collective ethnic and cultural heritage” (2004: 341). Not complying with norms and expectations set by religion and conveyed by the family, they not only lose the potential social capital deriving from their co-ethnics, but also a protective refuge against discrimination and anti-Islamic sentiments (Kahn, 2015).

At the same time, they can be excluded from the majority culture, not just because they are Muslim, but also because they are unable to fit with the Western notion of “gay identity” which is based on the assumption that LGBT people can live their true identities in secular fashion (Rahman, 2010). This aspect is part of a larger discussion first raised by Massad on conceptions of homosexuality within the Arab world and in relation with the Gay International, pointing out fundamental contradictions in the understanding and representation of non-Western homosexual identities. As he emphasised, there are plenty of differences between the Occidental and Oriental way of living homosexuality3_{(2002). The advent of the Western epistemology of homosexuality has imposed an}

ethnocentric idea of what being gay should mean. This idea is based on a homonormative model that conceives “visibility” and “speakability” as essential requirements for “authentic” homosexuals, thus resulting in the silencing and concealing of those who live their sexual identity following different parameters (Massad, 2002; Mepschen et al., 2010; Jivraj et al., 2011).

Studies on LGBT migrants in Italy revealed similar issues. An identity conceived in terms of visible and exhibited gay image is often refused (Masullo, 2015b), especially for those coming from cultures which are strongly influenced by heteronormative views and expectations about the male and female ontological divide. In this sense, we see how discrimination and marginalisation affect LGBT Muslims on two sides, thus hindering the process of recognition and inclusion. The study of LGBT ethnic or religious sub-communities sheds light on the high-level of vulnerability of groups whose “being” is impossible in both categories. This clearly encourages a look at the way LGBT Muslims negotiate their identities in relation to the wider Muslim communities and the

3_{The category “homosexual” does not exist in the Muslim world – as it does not exist a word for “heterosexual”.}

Indeed, despite male-male relationships have always play a pivotal role in the Muslim culture, homosexuality has always been lived within the private sphere, and has always been expressed in specific relational context (Massad, 2002).

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mainstream LGBT organisations. Existing studies have already emphasised the difficulty of such relations and the impact on processes of self-identification (Rahman, 2010; Masullo, 2015), while encouraging a reformulation of the dichotomous rhetoric on identity using an intersectional approach (Yuval-Davis, 2006; Rahman, 2010; Masullo, 2015).

Present research has highlighted the double stigma that LGBT Muslims face in such societal contexts; however, little has been said about how LGBT Muslims manage such multiple stigmatisation. Drawing on Goffman’s (1963) theorisation of stigma, it is possible to refer his considerations to the social position of LGBT Muslims, where these subjects end up being both discredited and discreditable in many different contexts4_{. The analysis of their social positioning}

and their relations with different actors enable an assessment of the way these subjects manage their stigma in different social contexts, and if and to what extent they succeed in affirming their subjectivity. Additionally, Scott’s work on the “hidden transcripts” that marginalised individuals elaborate to resist dominant discourses (1990), has been taken into account to assess if and in what ways LGBT Muslims engage in elaborating new narratives that contest dominant representations of Islam and sexuality. In this way, this research aims to shed light not only on the stigmatised condition of these subjects, but mostly, on their potential to express agency, to affirm their subjectivity, and to elaborate narratives of resistance to dominant representations.

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Methodology

A qualitative approach was used to investigate how the sphere of sexuality and the one of religion are negotiated on the individual level and in different contexts. Indeed, it allowed me to dive into the personal experience of the respondents, the daily obstacles they face, and shed light on the micro-practices in which they are engaged. As Mahler et al. pointed out, although constraining the amount of people that any researcher can effectively investigate, qualitative in depth-interviewing “has the true virtue of capturing, in some depth, the lived experiences, beliefs and identities of those studied” (2006: 30).

2.1 The field: why Bologna?

The majority of the fieldwork was conducted in Bologna. The city represents a crossroads of ideas and activism and a vibrant place where most counter movements lighted up. Labelled as “La Rossa” (“The red”, in Italian), Bologna became the stronghold of the Italian Communist Party after the second World War. Ever since, the city has been a battlefield for left-wing struggles for political and civil rights.

The LGBT movement in Italy sprung from the student movement of the late 1960s. In 1982 Bologna’s city administration assigned “Porta Saragozza” to the “Collective of homosexual culture” born three years before. It was the first time in Italy that a municipality acknowledged the importance of a LGBT association. In 1985, the Arcigay collectives decided to unify as a national organisation which took the name of Arcigay and ArciLesbica – to date the most important in the territory. Bologna is the place where Il Cassero, one of the most representative headquarter of the Italian Arcigay, is located and where most of the LGBT world has gained urban, social and political recognition.

The social and political ferment that Bologna has witnessed during the development of the LGBT movement has made the city the Italian capital of the LGBT scene. In Bologna, I conducted fieldwork in some locations of social and political gathering. Being one of the first and most active LGBT centres, Il Cassero is concerned with giving social and psychological support, as well as creating a space of identity, expression and discussion for LGBT people living in the province. Additionally, MigraBo LGBT was founded in Bologna, one of the few organisations in the territory to provide support to LGBT migrants. Since 2012, LGBT people with a migrant background can be assisted with matters concerning asylum claims and integration into society. MigraBo LGBT aims

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to introduce the intercultural aspect within the LGBT movement in Italy, and the aspect of sexual orientation within the services specialised in welcoming and supporting migrants. Moreover, Bologna is the place where some members of Il Grande Colibrì work and live. Driven by the desire to accommodate ethnic-religious diversity within the LGBT community in Italy, since 2011 Il Grande Colibrì has sought to create a space of dialogue and inclusiveness for people whose sexual identity (LGBT) intersects with a non-Western background. The organisation was born as Musulmani Omosessuali in Italia (Homosexual Muslims in Italy), then re-founded as Il Grande Colibrì. This community also works through an online platform that gathers experience of LGBT people from different ethnic and religious backgrounds. It is also engaged in providing information and support to LGBT migrants concerning issues on sexuality, culture and religion.

2.2 Methods & sample

- Semi-structured interviews

As the aim of the research is to unveil the interviewee’s everyday experiences and individual perception on sexuality and religion, I deployed in depth semi-structured interviews. These research tools allowed me to cover such intimate topics in a flexible and sensitive manner. Indeed, the questions I prepared function as an “interview guide” (Bryman 2012: 471), thus leaving the interviewee free to elaborate in a very personal and flexible way. If, on the one hand, questions were guided by theories – and, in this sense, they restricted the answers to some core concepts – I also elaborated further questions based on the individuals’ personal experiences. In this way, I attempted to illicit more data from respondents’ contextual answers. The choice of semi-structured in-depth interviews was also due to time restrictions: it enabled me to collect large amounts of thick data in a short period of time.

Given the sensitivity of my topic, I used a snowball sampling to recruit respondents. I approached the organisations mentioned above and asked for contacts. I then contacted people individually by email or Facebook. I conducted interviews with three homosexual Muslim men5_{who I contacted}

through Il Grande Colibrì. I also interviewed Pier Cesare Notaro, founder of the group, who has worked in the support of LGBT migrants and Muslims for many years, but who does not identify as Muslim. Furthermore, I interviewed Jonathan Mastellari, current secretary of MigraBo LGBT and Irene Pasini, LGBT activist, and vice-president of Il Cassero. Two Muslim women were also part of my sample – one of whom is involved in the activities of Il Grande Colibrì but who does not identify

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as homosexual – because I needed to assess in what ways the discourse about Islam is shaped and perceived in Italy.

All the respondents gave their consent to record the interviews and share their personal information.

- Collection of web diaries

As Il Grande Colibrì also works through a blog that shares individual life experience of LGBT individuals with different backgrounds – of whom, the majority are Muslims – I also gathered and analysed ten of these texts. These are diary texts that people share on the website either showing their names or anonymously. As opposed to interviews, the data that I collected from these texts are completely free from the influence of my questions and represent the bulk of my inductive material.

I conducted a purposive sample of the diaries shared on the blog. I chose the most recent ten diaries that were written by homosexual Muslims. The diaries were dated between January 2015 and March 2017.

I was given consent to use the web material by the founder of Il Grande Colibrì. - Public conference

I also collected and transcribed data from a conference held in Ferrara on the 3rd_{of March during}

the “Festival of LGBT Culture”. In this conference, the French imam Ludovic-Mohamed Zahed, who founded the first gay friendly mosque in Europe, was invited to talk about “Homosexuality in the Islam”. The moderators of the conference were two of my future respondents, Pier Cesare Notaro, the founder of Il Grande Colibrì, and Wajahat Abbas Kazmi, an Amnesty activist for LGBT minorities in Muslim majority countries.

2.3 Methodological limitations

Initially, the sample was meant to include LGBT (lesbians, gay, bisexual and transsexual) Muslims. However, the interviews did not include any homosexual women, bisexual or transsexual. This is due to the very sensitive position in which lesbians and transsexuals find themselves in relation to different actors and contexts. Some of my respondents emphasised this aspect and discouraged me from trying to contact these people. As I would have to take such contacts from the same networks of people, I eventually decided to restrict my sample to homosexual men. This clearly must be considered a limitation, but it also should represent a cause for thought on research about LGBT

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Muslims. Indeed, it may well be the case that lesbian and transsexual Muslims hold an even more vulnerable condition than homosexual Muslim men. As a result, the findings and reflections of the present research do not presume to represent the experiences of lesbian, bisexual and transsexual Muslims.

2.4 Analysis

All the data that were collected during research in forms of field-notes, thick-descriptions and audio material were firstly transcribed on Microsoft Word documents and thus analysed through Atlas.ti qualitative software. This software was particularly useful for organising and coding data. By using memo writing I could also easily map the respondents’ experiences and link them to theories or personal interpretations. Transcription and analysis started during fieldwork – I transcribed most of the interviews in the same day they were collected in order not to lose track of preliminary findings and considerations emerging from each case.

In terms of coding, I deployed both deductive and inductive coding strategies. The former helped me build interpretations out of existing theories on the topic; while the latter enabled me to develop new insights based on raw data. As analytic strategies, I deployed both interpretative and discourse analyses. During analysis, I needed to bear in mind some necessary considerations that prevented me from affecting data with theoretical assumptions. Self-reflexivity and transparency about my possible biases guided my interpretations and helped me stay open to new findings. This part was particularly crucial since I also used inductive coding strategies.

- Interpretative analysis

This approach allowed me to have a wide interpretative understanding of the studied phenomenon. Data was analysed by means of recurring themes and codes that were part of meaningful interpretations while staying open to possible contradictions. This was possible by comparing such themes with existing theories, in a continuous “back and forth between data and theory iteratively” (Timmermans et al., 2012: 168). It is worth specifying that the use of a particular language in certain contexts could disadvantaged my work as I am a stranger to the contexts of the research. However, during interviews, every time I felt alienated from contexts and topics tackled by the respondents, I encouraged them to explain and further elaborate. At the same time, it must also be acknowledged that, if, on the one hand, being a complete outsider might attest for less personal involvement, it could have also led to misinterpretations and linguistic misunderstandings.

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19 - Discourse analysis

This analytic approach was key to understanding recurring views, languages and narratives that individuals use in certain contexts and in relation to certain actors. For example, in the context of LGBT centres some narratives were shared by most of the participants and reveal a particular understanding of a given phenomenon. However, such discourse may be different from the one used by individuals when interviewed, or may be either addressed or countered during a face to face conversations. Since a major part of the research investigated how homosexual Muslim men micro-interact and resist dominant discourses about Islam, it was crucial for me to understand how the discourse is mobilised, shaped and shared. As part of my research I also attempted to assess how and to what extent homonationalist discourses are present in Italy: hence, the material was also analysed through the lens of Puar’s definition of “Homonationalism” (2007) already discussed in the theoretical framework.

2.5 Ethics

As a social researcher, my commitment to the research involved many different stakeholders, but the emphasis was always put on the interviewees, since they are sharing their time and experiences for the sake of my research. It was pivotal as a researcher to share the content and purpose of the research with my respondents; indeed, since the beginning I was open about my position and the subject of the research. This included informing my participants of the possible consequences of my findings in case the research would be made available within or outside academia.

Clearly, I encountered some ethical concerns during fieldwork. The first aspect I had to consider was the sensitivity of the topic. Informed consent and anonymity of respondents were essential elements for ethical research. I asked consent for recording interviews and using personal information; all of the respondents agreed on both. Additionally, when the participant required it, I shared the content of my interviews before the interview itself.

Finally, I considered some other ethical issues concerning the use of visual and written material. Indeed, as I analysed diaries published on the blog of Il Grande Colibrì, I asked and received permission from the funder of the group.

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Homonationalism in the Italian Context

3.1. What has been said so far about Italian homonationalism

Studies about European identity often question the applicability of European values, beliefs and principles to all the countries of the Union. As pointed out by some scholars (Butler, 2008; Fassin, 2010), the notion of “Europe” is often used in a metonymic relationship (Colpani, 2014; 2014b). In other words, literature about European identity very frequently focuses on few European countries – like the Netherlands, the UK, Germany and France – and make them coincide with the signifier “Europe”. As Colpani maintained, this has significant consequences in peripheral countries like Italy where values of progressiveness, gender equality and sexual freedom are still far from being part of a national identity, and are rather associated with an external Europe, thus “redesigning the boundaries of the continent according to a map of liberal sexual politics” (2014b: 28). Clearly enough, the slogan of Turin’s Gay Pride in 2009 “In Europe it’s different” sheds light on the appeals to a full Europeness by part of the Italian society.

In the analysis of the culturalization of citizenship in the Netherlands, Duyvendak et al. recognised this concept as a “global trend with local variations” (2016: 9). However, the minimal research that has been done on this topic in the Italian context (Colpani, 2014; 2014b) questions to what extent such notions are applicable to a country that holds a peripheral position in the context of liberal sexual politics. Indeed, by exposing two recent judicial events that saw the Italian and European legal courts negotiating on the matter of gay marriage, Colpani identified the use of “Europe” as a way to mobilise values of progressiveness, and oppose them to the conservative national scale. He also identified the double role of Europe in its relation to the Italian national dimension. On the one hand, by delegating the power to decide matters of same-sex marriages to the national lawmakers, Europe failed to safeguard its liberal values, showing in fact their strategic nature. On the other hand, Europe is mobilised by the Italian Court of Cassation as a powerful and meaningful tool to counter a conservative understanding of marriage. Hence, in these instances, Europe is materialised contextually, showing its ambiguity and possible instrumentalisation on both sides. Colpani’s analysis further shows how contemporary homonormative discourse can hardly be inscribed in the Italian context. In fact, although such discourse may be mobilised by strategically addressing Europe’s progressiveness, homonormativity seldom – if ever – is used to define the Italian national identity. This is particularly apparent when considering the multiple factors and actors within the Italian political, cultural and academic dimension regarding sexual politics and rights.

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The Church has always played a pivotal role within Italian politics and for the definition of the cultural Italian identity, conceived within a strictly heterosexual matrix. By reviewing five books about gender and sexual politics in Italy, Zanola highlighted the significant influence that the Vatican has had on the Italian LGBT movement in de-legitimising homosexuality (2014). Interestingly, she further noted how the absence of anti-homosexual laws in past Italian legislation has contributed to making homosexuality an invisible and denied phenomenon, although punishable at the same time. Such an absence has created a “don’t ask, don’t tell” mentality that dominated the Italian political and social sphere until the mid-90s (ibid.). At the same time, Italian politics has never willingly addressed LGBT issues; only recently have LGBT communities started to gain more public attention with regards to political and civil rights6_{. This lack of political and}

social attention has thus significantly influenced the academic sphere7_{, which just recently has}

started to tackle issues regarding gender and sexuality8_{. Despite latest development in the direction}

of gender equality and sexual freedom – mainly thanks to European institutional pressures – Italy remains one of the few Western countries that have not established LGBT anti-discrimination laws9_{(Ministero del Lavoro, della Salute e delle Politiche Sociali & Arcigay, 2008; Di Feliciantonio}

2015; Bellè et al., 2016).

The above scenario should be enough to convey the difficulty of associating Italy with a cultural identity built upon values of sexual freedom and gender equality. In fact, Italian scholars emphasised the “exceptional” position of Italy with regards to the European tendencies towards the equation of sexual rights with national values (Colpani 2014; Di Feliciantonio 2015). Nevertheless, further studies on the Italian political and public discourse have also highlighted that the strategic appropriation of homonationalist narratives may well take place when circumstances require. For instance, Colpani pointed out how anti-homophobic discourses have been used by some right-wing Italian newspapers when commenting the success of Geert Wilders at the European election in 2009, with the clear attempt to raise anti-Islamic sentiments (2015). Likewise, Farris defined “femonationalism” the tendency of many European right-wing parties, including the Italian Lega Nord, to mobilise feminist ideals into anti-Islam and anti-immigration campaigns (2012).

6_{Italy recognised same-sex civil union in May 2016.}

7_{Queer Studies, for example, have been initiated by Marco Pustianaz’s “Queer in Italia: differenze in movimento”}

only in 2011.

8_{This latter aspect has also been explained by the higher importance given by Italians to the traditional family unit}

(Zanola 2014)

9_{Italy’s anti-discrimination laws for women and LGBT people relate just to discrimination in the labour market}

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Given the complexity of the political and cultural discourse about the Italian national identity combined with a seemingly controversial use of homonationalist narratives under politically strategic circumstances, the instrumentalisation of anti-homophobic and feminist narratives in racialized discourses still deserves further analysis in the Italian context. For now, Colpani’s analysis put emphasis on a controversial and rather contradictory articulation that see the co-existence of a heteronormative national identity with the contextual mobilisation of homonationalist discourses for strategic racialized purposes (2015).

3.2. Italy: society, Church and political weakness

Because of the relevance of homonationalism in dominant political discourses about citizenship, and its importance in shaping racialized practices and politics, this research has also attempted to frame such phenomenon by giving voice to LGBT activists, Muslim women and homosexuals. The interviews focused on questions about homonormativity and Italian sexual politics, its development and impact on the LGBT movement and racialized discourses; in addition to that, topics such as the role of religion and normalised ideas about family have been used to better investigate a phenomenon which manifests in a rather paradoxical way. The complexity of the field has been emphasised by two intertwined features: the absence of a homonormative understanding of Italian identity, and the lack of political commitment towards the recognition of LGBT rights. Undoubtedly, these two features have been highly influenced by the role of the Church in shaping some cultural understandings of the family unit and sexuality.

Despite the ever decreasing number, Italians who identify as Christian Catholics still represent the clear majority of the population: with 71,1 percentage points (Eurispes, 2016). To this, it is important to add some considerations about the role that the Church has had in establishing a set of morals that have influenced not just certain cultural and social understandings and practices, but also the Italian political agenda. The dominant rhetoric that the Roman Church and Vatican institutions have promoted through documents, public statements and events – see for example the Family Day held in Rome in 2015 – have always emphasised a specific conception of sexuality and gender. The recourse to “nature” to justify sexual binaries and gender roles is certainly the most evident. As highlighted by the discourse analysis of Bellè et al., on the rhetoric which was mobilised during the Family Day, nature is utilised as the principle that confirms men and women as the two morally acceptable subjects in the absolute and universal order of God (2016). The essentialisation of sexual bodies in a fixed binary clearly results in the naturalisation of gender roles that equate men with fatherhood and women with motherhood. Hence, the establishment of such

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naturalised understanding of different sexes reflects in the way the family unit is socially and culturally understood. In such discourses, the family is, indeed, conceived as “naturally heterosexual and based on the marriage” (Bellè et al., 2016: 37): the only features that make the family a socially and legally recognisable subject.

Fassin’s genealogy of the latest development of the Catholic discourse has observed analogous findings. More specifically, the recourse to nature is argued to be a sign of the latest challenge that today’s democratic societies and sexual politics have posed to the “Biblical anthropology” (Fassin, 2010). At stake here is primarily the definition of homosexuality as “objectively disordered” and as a sign of “incompleteness and immaturity” (Fassin, 2010). The Catholic Church’s solid opposition to the recognition of same-sex couples lays in the conception of homosexuality as sin, and the considerations of same-sex civil marriage (or cohabitation) as violating natural law and traditional family values. Such considerations are then related to the political sphere by addressing the threat that LGBT political recognition entails on LGBT people themselves, as emphasised by the following declaration:

«When homosexual activity is condoned, or when civil legislation is introduced to protect behaviour to which no one has any conceivable right, neither the Church nor society at large should be surprised when other distorted notions and practices gain ground, and irrational and violent reactions increase» (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, 1986 from Fassin, 2010)

In other words, according to this statement the normalisation of LGBT rights would make “irrational and violent reactions”, such as homophobia, a more likely and diffused occurrence. The tone of the Vatican interventions became even sharper from then on, culminating in the early 2000s when the Netherlands became the first country to recognise same-sex marriages:

«Homosexuality is a troubling moral and social phenomenon, even in those countries where it does not represent significant legal issues. It gives rise to greater concern in those countries that have granted, or intend to grant, legal recognition to homosexual unions, which may include the possibility of adopting children […] those who would move from tolerance to the legitimization of specific rights for cohabiting homosexual persons need to be reminded that the approval or legalisation of evil is something far different from the toleration of evil” (Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith, 2003 from Fassin, 2010). »

Faced with the threat of political recognition of LGBT rights – which by 2001 had spread in most EU to countries – the Church switched from a political to a moral rhetoric, placing the burden of the “(in)toleration of evil” on the shoulders of individuals, politicians included:

«If it’s true that all Catholics are obliged to oppose the legal recognition of homosexual unions, Catholic politicians are obliged to do so in a particular way, in keeping with their responsibility as politicians […] even when legislation in favour of the recognition of homosexual unions is already in force, the catholic politician must oppose it in the ways that are possible for him and make his opposition known; it is his duty to witness to the truth» (2003).

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Here, neither institutions nor legislation, but the individual is addressed to apply moral conceptions in either their civic and political life. If such interventions have a clear impact on Catholics’ morality and cognition, it will show how the Church also managed to influence moral policies in Italy; a country which, despite registering high percentage of catholic people, approved same-sex marriage years later than the more Catholic Ireland.

To give a flavour of the influence that the Church has exercised in Italian political institutions and society, a comparative study on the institutional development of same-sex marriage policies in Ireland and Italy is be presented to emphasise the stronger structural role that the Church play in the less religious Italy. Because of the interrelation of the secular and the religious, the field of morality policies often represents a very controversial battlefield; especially in those countries where Catholic morals and the Church exercise a strong socio-political pressure. Studies on morality politics have emphasised that the Catholic orientation of a society has an impact on the speed of implementation of permissive reforms and laws (Knill et al, 2014). For instance, variables like the share of Catholics within a society and the degree of religiosity of the citizens are key factors that can predict the time of governments’ implementation of permissive reforms, like same-sex partnership policies (ibid.). Nonetheless, the very Catholic Italy and Ireland seem not to fit with such pattern. In fact, according to this argument, the less religious Italy – 83% of the population identified as Catholic, and 54% attended church at least once a month, between 1989 and 2010 (MORAPOL, 2013) – would have been expected to implement same-sex partnerships policies before the more Catholic Ireland – 90% identified as Catholic and 79% of the citizens attended church at least once a month in the same time span. On the contrary, although neither of them can be considered pioneers of same-sex partnership policies, in 2010 Ireland approved such policies, while Italy waited until 2016. The issue is further complicated given the presence of same-sex marriage policies on the Italian political agenda since 1988 – with 80 policy proposals drafted until 2010 – while Ireland started 15 years later and managed to approve it in 2010 – with just three draft proposals. Knill et. al. (2015) argue that such inconsistency is due to the differing institutional settings of the countries that allow, in the case of Italy, more opportunities for the Church to influence the Italian morality policies’ decision-making.

The collapse of the Democrazia Cristiana (DC) in 1992 marked a significant change in the formation of Italian political parties. Indeed, Catholic politicians that used to gather in one faction have since separated themselves into parties on the left and the right of the political spectrum. This undermined the religious party divide which, according to Engeli et al. (2012), sets forth higher potential for the politicisation of morality issues – which, indeed, started earlier in Italy than Ireland, but which gradually failed after the early 90s. This phenomenon is clearly exemplified by some

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reflections made by Irene Pasini, LGBT activist and vice-president of Il Cassero in Bologna, when talking about the paradoxical development of civil rights’ recognition and the weakness that has characterised Italian politics since 1992:

«There is a total scepticism toward politics, which, consequently, does not stimulate politicians. If 70% of the population says that Italian politicians are corrupted, clearly politicians won’t feel incited to fight for civil rights, they will just think about how to survive and get elected, it is a vicious cycle […] I think it’s since 1992, since “tangentopoli” that Italian politics have lost its strength. If you consider Italian politics in the 1970s… we were among the first to legalise divorce and abortion! Now we are the last in Europe to open civil unions to same-sex couples. » (Irene Pasini, 14/04/17)

Firstly, the active intervention of the Church in political affairs, enabled by close contacts between church leaders and political actors, facilitated patterns of Church lobbying – exerted by vetoing reform initiatives. Secondly, with the crisis of the DC, the Vatican gained catholic politicians on both left and right parties; this hindered opportunities to create political coalitions and reach consensus in the field of morality policies. Additionally, Italy’s weak and fragmented political leadership was – and still is – contrasted by the strong leadership structure of the Italian Catholic Church, which gains further influence given its strategic geographical position (Knill et al., 2014). The degree of religiosity, the amount of Catholic population, and the influence of Christian Catholic discourses on the understanding of socio-political constructs are not the only elements to take into consideration when analysing Italy’s cultural, social and political inertia in the field of LGBT rights. The weakness and recent development of the Italian political system also plays a central role in the delay of such issues on the political agenda. The aforementioned context makes it clear that the Church used favourable institutional opportunities to promote its conservative positions on sexuality and family. It also took advantage of a fragmented and weak political situation to maintain the status quo. On this matter, again, the words of Irene Pasini well explain the political situation in which LGBT rights have been curbed in recent years:

«There is no political engagement to do something in favour to LGBT rights, neither in left wing nor in right wing parties. We have a left that knows to have such duty, but my impression is that there’s no a proper willing: the idea is that “is up to us, we have to do it” but they actually don’t believe it. There are, of course, a few committed politicians, but there’s not a political presence that pressure for civil rights. On the other hand, there’re not even right parties that do that, because for example in many Northern European countries there have been right parties that pushed for LGBT rights. So, I am not saying that it’s a duty of the left, but also the right is absent… there is a kind of passivity. These things [civil unions] are being done just because at a certain point you must do them. You know that there’s the EU that asks for them, it’s shameful that until last year we did not have even a piece of legislation… every country had it, even Croatia that entered the EU after us. The general perception is that we lack of political forces that want to commit for recognising LGBT rights. » (Irene Pasini, 14/04/17)

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The passivity of the Italian political system on these matters can be explained by the scattering of Catholic political forces among the wide range of Italian parties, and the influence they can exercise on the policy decision-making. On the societal and cultural level, the less degree of secularisation has influenced some heteronormative understandings of society, thus making the fight of LGBT people more challenging than in other EU countries. Therefore, Catholic religion was, and in some societal contexts still is, recognised as an obstacle to the liberation and recognition of non-heteronormative identities:

«In some parts of Italy, where religion is a significant component on the level of your family’s believes and traditions, Catholicism is clearly an obstacle to pass; because, if your mother says that God doesn’t accept your sexuality – and she says that because the priest is telling her so – then you have a refusal, because the Catholic Church does not accept homosexuality, and it represented an obstacle in many respects for LGBT rights and achievements. » (Irene Pasini, 14/04/17)

Other respondents more decisively asserted the presence of a normalised understanding of LGBT identity as anti-religious, probably due to the role that the Church played in this context:

«The common idea is that if you are LGBT, or if you want to get involved in LGBT politics, you need to encourage anti-religious politics, or at least the religious aspect doesn’t have to be visible publicly. The concept of secularism that is diffused in the LGBT scene is a bit distorted: it is more like “hide the religion” instead of “don’t make the religion interfere with other practices”. […] it seems like religious differences, and the religious thought don’t have the right to have a voice within the culture. Clearly, they don’t have to interfere in the political decisions, but I don’t understand why the religious discourse is being censured, while other discourses not. » (Pier Cesare Notaro, 26/04/17)

In other words, the influence of the Church in the Italian context has clearly created normative conception of sexuality which are likely to impede LGBT people on the individual, social and cultural sphere, as well as in the battle for sexual politics recognition. Given the diffusion of heteronormative conceptions, contextualising the phenomenon of homonationalism in the Italy is more difficult than in other societies. In the next section, I illustrate how homonationalism, intended as political and institutional identification with values of sexual liberation and progressiveness – and their resulting mobilisation in xenophobic and islamophobic discourses – fail to gain credibility in the Italian right wing rhetoric. This feature impedes to define homonationalism a phenomenon that has been politicised or enhanced by political parties, as happens in other Western countries.

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3.3. Homonationalism and far right-wing parties: why does it not make sense?

Since the beginning of the 20th_{century, the LGBT movement in Italy developed as an anti-fascist}

resistance. The reintroduction of capital punishment by the Mussolini government in 1926, included – with the “Rocco code” – homosexuality as a punishable crime. It is not surprising that from then on, the LGBT movement identified as a movement of resistance against fascist and far-right wing forces in Italy. Indeed, the alignment of Italian LGBT groups with left-wing politics is well documented and still visible (Pedote et. al, 2007). Arcigay is the first and largest association founded in 1985 as a section of the leftist recreational association Arci. Although traditionally recognising a common political stand, the Italian LGBT movement is not an organisation; rather, it is a social community composed of a variety of organisations each with potentially competing agenda (Engel, 2001: 184). Indeed, it was Aurelio Mancuso, president of Arcigay, who stated in 2007 that “being gay is neither left nor right wing […] there are many homosexuals amongst the electorate of the centre-right” (Trappolin 2004: 115). However, for others, LGBT identities are incompatible with a right wing political agenda, especially in Italy, where right parties have often overtly supported the Church (Ross, 2009).

The less degree of compatibility between LGBT organisations and right-wing parties is also justified by the explicit opposition that the Berlusconi government has exercised on LGBT claims. The “Berlusconi years” was, indeed, a period that saw a strong resistance from the LGBT movement in the peninsula (Ross, 2009).

It must also be said that the relationship between the Italian LGBT movement and its political affiliation has always been a source of tension. On the one hand Arcigay has historically allied with left parties – as left-wing parties have often showed to be more prone to secure LGBT rights10_{. On}

the other hand, Arcigay have also criticised the centre-left coalition inability to fully support the movement objectives – such as passing anti-discrimination laws that were advocated by the 1997 Amsterdam Treaty – during one of the Berlusconi governments. In the same years, Enrico Oliari from the right Alleanza Nazionale party founded the group GayLib, to contrast Arcigay’s support, and to criticise “the monopoly of the left over the gay world and the homophobia from part of the right”, encouraging a dialogue with the “secular elements of the centre right” (Ross, 2009: 83). In general, in the years of “Berlusconismo” LGBT individuals faced a considerable opponent. Although Berlusconi was not perceived as intrinsically homophobic – but rather, a canny opportunist – he has never abstained from homophobic statements to build a beneficial alliance

10_{The Italian Communist Party (PCI) overtly supported Arcigay’s battle for its headquarters Il Cassero Centre in}

Allah loves equality : homonationalism and every-day practices of homosexual Muslims in Italy