Welcome to the home of the “I am not Haraam” project - a blog created for LGBTQIA+ Muslims by LGBTQIA+ Muslims.
Haraam is an Arabic word used in Islam to mean “forbidden”. This project has been started as a way for LGBTQIA+ Muslims to stand up and proclaim that we will not allow our existence as LGBTQIA+ Muslims to be erased any longer.
We are not kafirs, we are not deviant, our existence is not a sin. This is our space to say:
WE ARE NOT HARAAM.
-------------------------------- Call for submissions
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We’re calling for any Muslim who identifies as part of the LGBTQIA+ spectrum to submit to this blog. Allies and supportive families of LGBTQIA+ Muslims are also welcome and encouraged.
The theme for submissions is quite simply, “I am not haraam”
(or “my son/daughter/lover/sibling is not haraam”).
We’d like you to share what it means for you to be an LGBTQIA+ Muslim. You can tell us about your struggles, your everyday life, anything that makes you, you!
Submissions can take any form; text posts, audio posts, art work, poetry, video etc.
How do I submit?
You can submit by clicking on “submit” at the top of the page or by emailing iamnotharaam@gmail.com
If you have any questions please don’t hesitate to message us.
----------------- Please note: This is a positive space for LGBTQIA+ Muslims. We will not publish or respond to any negative or hateful remarks. We will not respond to any message asking us to justify our existence as LGBTQIA+ Muslims.
When I hear an imam or islamic lecturer talk about the story of Lot, or about homosexuals, it breaks my heart a little every single time.
A few weeks ago I attended a series of lectures at an islamic school. It was one night, about 5 hours with breaks, but it takes the esteemed position of one of the worst nights in my life. I went in with an open mind, open heart and intended to learn. I’ve always thought that islam in its purest form is one of the most beautiful things on earth, but it is tainted. Tainted by bigots blinded by the dogma which they distort to integrate hate so subtly into our society. Sometimes I wonder if they have any idea what they are doing.
Let us look at a few statistics.
The scientific study “Sexual Behavior in the Human Male” by Indiana University researchers Alfred C. Kinsey, Wardell B. Pomeroy, and Clyde E. Martin reported that 37% of males had homosexual experiences, but this figure includes incidental homosexual experience. The study reported 10% of males being more or less exclusively homosexual.
Subsequent studies such as “The Janus Report on Sexual Behavior” by researchers Samuel S. Janus and Cynthia L. Janus & “Homosexuality / Heterosexuality” by researchers David P. McWhirter, Stephanie A. Sanders, and June Machover Reinisch reported the exclusively homosexual male population to be 9% & 13.95% respectively, which supports the Indiana University findings of 10%, or 1 in 10
For the sake of simplicity in maths, let us assume that findings suggest that 1 in 10 males are homosexual.
At these lectures there must have been about three or four hundred men, boys and children. This could correlate to around 30 or 40 being homosexuals, if we counted all of them. But I’m not going to talk about adults in denial.
I’m going to talk about the kids.
Some of these children will sit through these lectures being told that having feelings toward another man is an “abomination”. They will feel the hate spewing from the sermon that condemns their very nature and they will be terrified. I know this because it scared the crap out of me when I was younger.
I’ve known that I wasn’t straight since before I can remember. Probably from the age of around 5 or 6. I may not have known the term for my inclination, or what it meant, but I knew something was different. I also sat in the mosque, listening to the imam talking about how homosexuals will be thrown into the fire that feeds on the bones of men like the people of Lot.
Being a child and having the image of burning for eternity just because of who you may fall in love with is not what Islam teaches.
The story of Lot condemns a lot of things. It condemns inhospitality, rape, robbery, humiliation of stranger and the mistreatment of guests among other things. Why then, do modern muslims choose to focus on the “sin” of homosexuality over all these other things, which are daily occurrences in the world. These things are allowed to pass us by. I know muslims that lie, steal, cheat and backbite regularly, but as soon as you mention the word “gay”, they turn up their noses as if to say that they are once again pious in the face of these “abominations” of men.
I am not a “gay muslim”. I am a muslim who just so happens to be gay. This should not define my fitness to practice my religion, and it should not mean that hypocritical muslims with double standards have the right to condemn me.
I love my religion, I just pity some people that follow it. I’ve always been told that Islam is about tolerance and peace and love, and I’m afraid I fail to see it in the modern world. I consider myself a good person. I don’t consider myself the best muslim, but none of us are.
If we are all equal in the eyes of God, why are we not in the eyes of men?
Don’t try and tell me that I chose to be gay. I tell you now that i stayed up late at night, crying to God to cure me, to remove this “ailment” and save me from eternal damnation. I was angry with myself, with my God, with my religion. Not because the religion had taught me I was wrong, but because people had told me I was. People told me that I would burn, that I would be punished for something over which I had no control. It broke me.
Now I realise why i didn’t change, and why I didn’t wake up one morning cured, suddenly into girls.
Maybe there isn’t anything to change.
I am a muslim. I am gay. I am proud of both things, and I don’t plan to change either.
Ramadan, despite my complete lack of faith, always becomes a month of intense introspection and worldly reflection. I think a part of me would like it to always be, life is so fleeting and fast lived that we seldom get a chance to actually spend time exploring the inner crevices of our minds and spiritualities.
Seeing the progression of liberation and acceptance of LGBT+ muslims, as steady and riddled with resistance it is, has been such a wonder to behold. We have stories of people coming out to their parents and families who, for a change, are not met with immediate hostility and stark rejection. We have movements in the UK and further afield which are seeking to erect LGBT+ friendly masjids, create safe spaces for those of us in the community to practice our religions and enjoy our sexuality without fear of repercussion and persecution. “I am not haraam” is becoming a supplication almost synonymous with the fight to be accepted into the muslim world and shared culture, and this acceptance is being so passionately fought for by muslims in Islamic countries, those in the diaspora, and those who have reverted from other cultures and backgrounds who see the injustice our people face day in and day out.
In a time where the larger muslim ummah seems increasingly divided over sects, race, nuances in practising and so much more divisive pettiness, it seems as though the collective struggle of LGBT+ muslims has combined our ranks and made us a force that is seemingly shaking up the islamic world. People are afraid of the repercussions of challenging old beliefs. If they are forced to abandon one way of thinking, then what happens to other non-islamic but cultural practices that people seem to want to cling on to so badly? Cultural Islam, at least from my experience of it, has long been a religion of “accept what you’re told, submit to your teachers and elders or perish” and it is wonderful that those traditionalist views are being challenged with such courage. Of course this isn’t entirely owing to the works of the LGBT+ community, the revelation of technology and access to resources not previously available has given muslims the ability to think critically about their faith, and challenge the status quo in a way that has not happened previously in the modern, post colonialist history of our religion.
Of course the fight is far from over. It is a war against years of indoctrinated thinking, of beliefs that have remained unchallenged for so long, and such a fight is never easily won. But in a world that is seemingly regressing in terms of morality humanity, there are pockets of hope where people are fighting to win their rights. The right to pray, to love, and to exist. I hope that this struggle for acceptance soon becomes a fight for equality, but it’s nice to know we’re actually making some progress, and that we are getting through to some people. It is slowly starting to pay off, and we need to maintain the momentum for our liberation. The night is far from over, but the first few streaks of sunlight are peering through the horizon.
there’s always a lot of talk about how being gay or trans is a “sin.” and a lot of people have reclaimed this, have joked about their “sin,” have held it up yourself so it can’t be held against you.
but to all of the religious queers, the ones trying to find or create a home in themselves where their identity and their religion don’t contradict… i see you. i’ve been you, i am you, i love you.
your orientation is not a sin.
your gender is not a sin.
you are not sinful or wrong or bad just for being who you are.
your identity does not contradict your religion.
you are beautifully and wonderfully made, just as you are.
you are loved by your creator, just as you are.
nobody can take any of that away from you.
[ please do not tag or censor my use of the word queer. do not derail this post by talking about how much religion sucks. ]
A sex-ed guide for young Muslims around coming out that deals with the
intersections of faith, sexual orientation, and so more - all framed
through the lived experiences of LGBTQ+ Muslims!
hadeerofthesea asked: hi noor! recently there's been a lot of articles circulating about homosexuality in islam, in the MENA etc and i'm wondering if in your readings you ever came across a book or article you could recommend that critically assesses the history of gender/sexuality in the MENA pre- and post-colonization? i read 'sex and the citadel' which offered me a taste but i guess i'm looking for something more critical like levine's "prostitution, race, and politics" but focusing on the MENA? thank you!
You’re right – Sex and the Citadel was a total mess. I think I recommended it to you on another blog two years ago (sorry!) and since then, I’ve started to understand why it rubbed me the wrong way – and even how it didn’t rub me the wrong way at the time but should have. (We all read and learn, it’s part of the process! Plus, at least some of the information in there was helpful, even if the analysis was totally off-putting.) I’m happy you liked the Levine text, though! I love it, too.
So…your instinct to find something more critical is definitely coming from the right place. Since you sent a second message saying I could post this publicly, the four main texts I would recommend are:
These are sort of what everyone reads once they become interested in queer/critical theory in the middle east and south asia. And although these texts are considered foundational, they aren’t immune to critique (esp. the last two: A lot of people I know can’t stand these texts so please don’t yell at me anonymously.) That being said, I think they’re a good place to start. I really support the practice of grappling with these kinds of texts and engaging with them honestly before leveling (or even trying to understand other) critiques.
I also loved sections of Paul Amar’s book, The Security Archipelago but here’s a nice and concise article he wrote with Omnia El Shakry (who is awesome so check her out!) entitled Curiosities of Middle East Studies in Queer Times.
I hope this helps! I’m going to tag @khofnak for good measure because they always have far better recommendations.
Great recommendations!
i agree, with anyone studying sexuality/gender in MENASA it’s worth studying homonatonalism/pinkwashing. Here are some other stuff I can recommend:
