By: Phone Min Thant, Arts & Culture Editor
“Queer Asia does not have a great history; it has never found an institutional home in the region.” This quote is one of the last sentences in Queer Southeast Asia: An Afterword, in a section about finding hope through the study of queer experiences. It is a wonder, of course, why I chose to start with this quote. It does not sound particularly hopeful. I chose it because it perfectly describes queerness across Southeast Asia: a largely grassroots network of movements fuelled by activism, passion, collective reimagination, trial and error, and language reclamation against institutions that have prevented queer expression and quelled social dissent.
Queer Southeast Asia can be best described as a collection of both academic research and personal experiences inside Southeast Asia, and to a lesser extent, by its diaspora abroad. The book does not try at all to generalize queerness in Southeast Asia, something I appreciated as a researcher of Southeast Asian studies myself. It lays out the history of some of the region’s most prominent activist movements and sheds light on the less visible forms of expressing queerness in a region which has largely remained conservative. The book covers covert distribution of queer films inside Singapore, building community at night-clubs in Bangkok, and practicing freeform expression in an increasingly-populist regional political landscape.
While I suggest the whole book for a more comprehensive and intersectional outlook on advocating for, and being, queer Southeast Asians, I found a few chapters to be particularly intriguing. The first was a chapter by Dr. Benjamin Hegarty, a prominent Australian expert on Southeast Asian gender, sexuality, and reproductive health. Hegarty explores the politics of reclaiming the word “transpuan,” an activist word for transgender women in Indonesian, from the oppressive language describing trans and queer communities coined by the Indonesian government. Coming from a nearby state that also lacks a word for queer women, it was inspiring to see queer activists and allies challenge discriminatory narratives imposed by authoritarian governments against those simply practicing their rights. I was also drawn to the chapter by Dr. Quah Ee Ling Sharon and Dr. Shawna Tang, two queer academics of Southeast Asian heritage, exploring the nuances behind Southeast Asian queer migrants’ search for “utopia,” a safe haven where they are able to freely, safely, and visibly exist, usually meant to generalize democratic Global Northern states. In this chapter, however, Sharon and Tang explore the intersectionalities of being queer Asian migrants, who can express themselves freely, but are then victims of xenophobia, racism, and homophobia. This rejects the assumption that queer diaspora “would find freedom and a happy ending,” post-migration. Other favourites also include Dr. Sim Jiaying’s explorations of how queer Singaporeans find community and recreation through discreetly-distributed queer short films, as well as Dr. Anthony Langlois’ discourse on how queer activists remain resilient against the rise of surveillance states.
Queer Southeast Asia reminds us that there is a community actively trying to unearth the complex roots of queer communities in the region, and that there is hope for its future tree of knowledge to grow.
It is here that perhaps the first quote may be recalled; in Southeast Asia, queerness has little institutional support, particularly for those attempting to study it. However, Queer Southeast Asia reminds us that there is a community actively trying to unearth the complex roots of queer communities in the region, and that there is hope for its future tree of knowledge to grow.
