Russia’s War Against Rainbows
By MASHA GESSEN
MOSCOW — “Propaganda of homosexuality”: the wording sounds almost quaint in English, like a panicky phrase out of the 1970s backlash to the early gay liberation movement in the United States. But in Russia, the phrase is current: This week lawmakers have been talking of banning “propaganda of homosexuality” — whatever the phrase may mean.
The campaign began a couple of months ago, when two provincial Russian cities, Ryazan, in central Russia, and Arkhangelsk, in the north of the country, passed such laws. On Wednesday, St. Petersburg, Russia’s second-largest city, approved its own ban. The next day, lawmakers in Moscow promised to pass a similar measure in the capital, and the speaker of the upper house of Parliament declared it was time to take the ban national.
The St. Petersburg bill defines the violation as “public actions aimed at propagandizing sodomy, lesbianism, bisexuality, transgenderism among minors.” At least one prominent Russian singer has already expressed concern that the law may affect his and other artists’ ability to perform in front of audiences and to market their records.
In saying this he put his finger on what is perhaps the central conflict of this story: Russia’s urban culture of music and film, clubs and cafés, art and fashion, is virtually indistinguishable from that of any contemporary Western European city. Russia is a profoundly secular country; its divorce and abortion rates are among the highest in the world. St. Petersburg is just a short drive from the border with Finland, where discrimination based on sexual orientation was criminalized in 1995 and same-sex partnerships have been legal since 2002. Many St. Petersburg residents go to Finland to spend their weekends or go shopping.
So where do the “propaganda of homosexuality” bans come from, in a secular country with an apparently liberal social culture? A dozen years ago, when Vladimir Putin became Russia’s leader, he set in motion the process of destroying public space. He has succeeded by pressuring the media, heavily restricting political and charitable organizations, and, in effect, banning most demonstrations. The process now seems unstoppable: The restrictive machine cannot help but infringe on the private — as well as venture into the absurd.
During the discussion about the “propaganda of homosexuality” bill in the St. Petersburg legislature, a city councilor proposed banning the rainbow symbol. “On St. Petersburg day we had posters all over the city with portraits of Peter the Great and a brightly colored rainbow under it,” she fumed. “How can there be a rainbow, which is the international gay symbol? And we have day-care centers called Rainbow and drug stores called Rainbow all over the city!… We are going to die out soon.”
During the discussion about the “propaganda of homosexuality” bill in the St. Petersburg legislature, a city councilor proposed banning the rainbow symbol. “On St. Petersburg day we had posters all over the city with portraits of Peter the Great and a brightly colored rainbow under it,” she fumed. “How can there be a rainbow, which is the international gay symbol? And we have day-care centers called Rainbow and drug stores called Rainbow all over the city!… We are going to die out soon.”
Russian bloggers started joking that St. Petersburg would next ban the rainbow from nature. I laughed, too, and continued to think that these measures are, above all, ridiculous.
But on Thursday, the day after the St. Petersburg bill was passed and just as Moscow legislators were promising to pass one of their own, my 13-year-old son, who attends a private school with a liberal reputation in Moscow, came home and told me he had removed his new earring after a teacher told him that wearing earrings means you’re gay and is therefore inappropriate.
A few hours later a friend who is active in an L.G.B.T. sporting organization instant-messaged me to say that the group would probably soon be banned from organizing any events. What’s worse, she wrote, when the bills become law, they may be interpreted to apply to gay and lesbian couples who are raising children.
I no longer think the phrase “propaganda of homosexuality” sounds quaint. My partner and I are raising a boy and a girl together, and in February she is due to give birth to another boy.
Masha Gessen is the director of Radio Liberty’s Russian Service and the author of “The Man Without a Face,” a biography of Vladimir Putin.
