What a lethal mix it turned out to be.
There was the religion, that vaunted religion of peace. Is
it? Yes, with certain restrictions: to those who believe in Islam, and to those
willing to live according to whatever customs and cultural norms that Islam is
being expressed, Islam is a religion of peace. And so I—an openly gay man—might
well be welcomed in a mosque in Toronto, Canada. And that would be a very real
expression of Islam. Just as being welcomed in an Anglican church is a very
real expression of Christianity. In fact, I’d like to believe that both are the
realest expressions of those religions.
Ready to be rudely awakened?
The openness of some religions, or of some churches in some
religions, is only of some twenty years or so. Thus, in the case of
Christianity, this amounts to no more than a thousandth of its history. And the
case of Islam is much worse: trust me, if the Arab world rose up in horror at
the sight of gay people being thrown from buildings, the world would have a few
more gay people today.
There’s an old saying in the gay world: the more you repress
it, the more you get it. Which means that I, a wicked openly gay man, committed
the moral horrors of eating dinner with my husband, sitting down in front of a
television, and then consuming two hours of Netflix. I compounded this
abomination by kissing my husband, and then going off—alone—to bed.
Contrast this with the blameless behavior of powerful Afghan
men, who employ the service of the Bacha Bazi:
In a 2013 Vice Media, Inc.
documentary titled "This Is What Winning Looks Like", British
independent film-maker Ben Anderson describes the systematic kidnapping, sexual
enslavement and murder of young men and boys by local security forces in the
Afghan city of Sangin.
The film depicts several scenes of Anderson along with American military
personal describing how difficult it is to work with the Afghan police
considering the blatant molestation and rape of local youth. The documentary
also contains footage of an American military advisor confronting the then
acting Police Chief on the abuse after a young boy is shot in the leg after
trying to escape a police barrack. When the Marine suggests that the barracks
be searched for children, and that any policeman found to be engaged in
pedophilia be arrested and jailed, the high-ranking officer insists what occurs
between the security forces and the boys is consensual, saying "[the boys]
like being there and giving their asses at night." He went on to claim
that this practice was historic and necessary. "If [my commanders] don't
fuck the asses of those boys, what should they fuck? The pussies of their own
Grandmothers?"[31]
Right—situations like these are what makes gay men bristle
when the conservative right labels us “child molesters….”
So in the west, we have a whole group of gay men who are
learning to change diapers and go to work after being up all night with a sick
infant. But in Arab countries, we have societies that are deeply conflicted
about women, sexuality, and especially homosexuality. And is there any reason
to think that Omar Mateen’s father was any different?
A better blogger would have the answer: I watched Mateen’s
father for three and a half minutes on YouTube, before I got a queasy feeling
of sadness and disgust. I think the police have to ask tough questions, and I
think the public has a right to know what happened. I’m less sure that I have
the right to be part of a feeding frenzy of the press hounding a deeply proud,
and now deeply wounded, father.
That’s the sad part. The disgust comes from suspecting that
everything I’ve read about Mateen’s father’s views on homosexuality is true.
That said, enter Miguel.
According to the
interview, which is riveting, Miguel met Mateen for 15 or 20 dates in
November and December of last year. He describes Mateen as loving, not violent,
but also as someone who abused alcohol, and had a completely confused view of
his sexuality. In Miguel is not Miguel, nor is Miguel’s face the face of
whoever-the-not-Miguel is. So name and image have been changed and why? Because
Miguel is afraid of ISIS, yes, but also Mateen’s father. The father, according
to “Miguel,” loathed homosexuality so much that he said that gay people should
be killed. And yes, he could forgive Mateen, but that forgiveness could only
happen after Papa Mateen had killed Miguel. Or had him killed.
And so, if you believe Miguel, we have a man—Mateen—who had
little interest in Islam, was completely gay, and was in a marriage of
convenience, probably to please his father. And then, since he had, according
to Miguel, two apps for finding gay men for sex, he had two threesomes with gay
Puerto Rican men. It was after one threesome that one of the men told Mateen
that he (the sex partner, not Mateen) was HIV positive.
According to Miguel, Mateen freaked. Wouldn’t you? And so
Miguel counseled Mateen to get tested; Mateen did, apparently by a home test.
The result was negative, but also inconclusive, since—again, according to
Miguel—insufficient time had passed for the result to be definitive.
And so Mateen harbored a grudge. In addition, he had
suffered some rejections at the hands of some of the Hispanics at the club,
where he had been many times before. Hardly surprising—unless you are Ricky
Martin, or his twin brother, rejection is part of gay men’s life. As well, of
course, as straight people’s lives.
He was, according to Miguel, attracted to Latinos, or
perhaps specifically to Puerto Ricans, who are a large community in Orlando
(there are over 500,000 Puerto Ricans there). And it’s easy to see why he’d be
attracted: Latin culture is famously free and sensual. Every movement is a
dance, every look is a flirt, sex is at least implied everywhere. What must
Mateen, having been raised in a rigid, oppressive atmosphere, have felt on
being introduced to the young, hot Puerto Ricans dancing freely in an Orlando
nightclub?
Is this speculation? Of course, but is it any more
farfetched than Mateen’s claim that he was a member of Al Qaeda, Hezbollah, and
ISIS? Yeah? All—when all three are fighting each other? But could he say the
truth? Could he admit, even to himself or especially to himself, the truth?
The truth would be that he was closeted, he was average
looking, he lusted after the freedom and the sensuality of a culture that was
harshly homophobic. For him, the young men dancing into the night must have
seemed impossibly free and unfettered. He, in turn, could only look at them,
want them, want what they had, and what he would never have. And then he
returned to his wife and child, and to the father who had arranged and forced
him into that prison. But to say all that was impossible, and so, in one of the
curious twists of the story, he was busy calling 911 to establish himself as a
terrorist.
That’s a scenario—but will we ever hear it? Miguel says this
was not a terrorist attack. After all, Pulse is not, according to him,
the biggest gay venue in town. But it was having a salsa / bachata / Latin
music night.
So does it make a difference?
Yes, it makes a difference. We now have Trump talking again
about stopping all Muslims from entering the country. The many Muslims who are
peace loving and law-abiding are looking over their backs now, when a week or
two ago the never dreamed of it. And the FBI and other law enforcement agencies
will be given even more leeway to trample on the civil liberties of us all.
And we could be having another discussion, but that might a
trifle embarrassing for some of us. We would have to look at ourselves, and
admit that the Afghan practice of Bacha Bazi was outlawed under the Taliban,
and then came back under the government we instituted. And we looked the other
way, until enough media of sufficient prestige forced to admit it.
And Muslims might have to admit that there is, after all,
some housecleaning of their own to do. They might have to look at their
cultures, and those cultures’ attitudes toward women and sexuality.
He was a bomb waiting to go off, and he did. To some extent,
we never know why any of our numerous mass murders go of. But why do I feel
that in the case of Omar Mateen…
…we will never, never know?
