In July, China’s most widely-used social media WeChat banned tons of LGBT social media accounts run by student societies in universities. Censorship on the app in China is very common, but this act is actively depriving the freedom and rights of China’s sexual and gender minorities. Overnight, public voices critiquing WeChat’s autocratic actions flooded the internet. However, a few days later, no one seems to be discussing this incident anymore. People’s change from enthusiasm to apathy to the ban of social media accounts, casts a pessimistic tone on Chinese people’s cause of fighting for LGBT rights.
This event inspired me to do an in-depth research on the lives of LGBT people in China. How do LGBT communities develop in China? What makes them lack the motivation to speak up for themselves, and what makes society turn a blind eye to their unfair treatment? Luckily, the city where I live, Chengdu, is known to be a perfect place to observe the situation of LGBT people in China. For the past weeks, I visited some famous places where queer people gather— such as gay bars, teahouses, and LGBT-related organizations— and consulted some research papers done by the local sociologists. Now, I think I am closer to answering my own questions on the matter.
How do LGBT communities form in China?
Chengdu is voted as “the gay city of China”, not only because it has the most considerable amount of openly LGBT people, but additionally, its tolerant attitude attracts many LGBT people to come and settle there. Unlike Shanghai or Beijing, where the LGBT community is largely influenced by foreign culture, Chengdu shows the greatest extent to which Chinese culture and politics have played a crucial role in affecting the local LGBT community’s creation and development.
According to Chinese sociologist Wei Wei, Chengdu’s healthy LGBT community is credited to its successful change of “place to space”. Indeed, China’s rapid economic development creates a hotbed for the spread of consumerism, which is especially salient in Chengdu, the beneficiary of the Great Western Development Strategy, which made Chengdu the regional economic development center. One of the many results of consumerism is the emergence of entertainment establishments. However, for people who are oppressed for their identity and would like to meet like-minded people, these establishments are entitled with a different meaning —these places are haven-like spaces in which they can fully express themselves without other people’s judgment and where they can still have fulfilling social lives.
Chengdu has more than 30 gay bars and a large map of social gathering spots for MSM (an abbreviation of ‘Men who have sex with Men’), including teahouses, clubs, and public bathrooms. Last week, I visited a gay bar named Pose, which has been popular among gays in Chengdu for more than a decade. To my surprise, the interior layout is somewhat private; people stay at their table with the friends they come with rather than walking around dancing and chatting with others. I later learned that more often, bars are where gay people socialize with their existing friend group, as they want to keep their communities tight-knit.
Public bathrooms are common hotspots for gay people to meet, socialize, or hook up. The owner of Chengdu’s largest gay bathroom MC Space claims that “it’s a place where you have romantic encounters”; however, these spaces earn gay people a bad reputation among the rest of society. In 2020, group licentiousness in MC Space was reported and condemned. Upon hearing the news, there was public outrage, and it ultimately deepened the negative stereotype which many people attach to gay people about them being unusually promiscuous. The rising case of HIV/AIDS among MSM makes gay people a target for hate and ostracisation. In my experience, when talking about the subject of homosexuality in China, most people’s first reaction would be to associate it with HIV and STDs, which is caused by their “sinful lifestyle”.
Why are not many people talking about fighting for LGBT rights in China?
Politics is obviously the most critical factor. We expect large social movements and NGOs’ reactions; however, the former is taboo in China, and the latter is incredibly passive. Wei Wei mentioned in his book Going Public: The Production and Transformation of Queer Spaces in Postsocialist Chengdu, China that there’s a lingering pessimism in China’s NGO. There are too many restrictions to do anything truly impactful. When he mentions that they should “fight” for LGBT rights, they tell him they do not want to “fight” or “initiate a “movement” for “human rights” because these words sound too sensitive and radical.
I encountered a similar obstacle as Wei. Before writing this article, I contacted several local NGOs in Chengdu who are doing impressive work on providing a community for LGBT people to safely be themselves. However, after I told them about my position as a contributor for a student-run website and requested to interview them, he was not interested in sharing any details. I had similar results in the Pose bar. While I had a great conversation with the people working there, I still did not convince them to do the interview. Most organizations are more short-lived and underground, as there is little information about them online. Even though no current law in China is explicitly against homosexuality; one can still easily overstep into the forbidden zone of politics when discussing it, which leads to censorship as proven by the banned WeChat accounts. Since the issue is inevitably linked to the politically sensitive discussion of the government’s incompetence at protecting LGBT people’s human rights, NGOs can only publicly contribute to preferably ‘safer’ topics like HIV prevention.
Culture should also be taken into consideration. Confucianism, the guiding philosophy for China over hundreds of years, does not stress much about the binarism of sexuality. Therefore, non-LGBT people tend to be nonchalant of homosexual behaviors as long as it doesn’t actively concern them, and LGBT people tend not to publicize their beliefs anyways. Since there is limited space for expanding political activities, LGBT people spend more effort in exploring cultural and social activities, which is welcomed in cities like Chengdu, where the joyful and carefree character in Taoism is pronounced. With the comprehensive social network and abundant entertainment resources, the motivation of fighting for political rights and freedoms for LGBT people is weak. Thus, LGBT people in China tend to be satisfied with their situation, and little efforts have been made to legalize same-sex marriage. Chinese sociologist Yinhe Li has submitted the proposal of legalizing same-sex marriage to the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference multiple times since 2003, but it was never handed to the final conference due to lack of support.
According to China’s largest homosexual dating platform Blued, about 70 million people in China identified themselves as LGBT in 2015. However, Equaldex lists a dozen unprotected LGBT rights in China, including indefinite deferral of donating blood, the illegality of joining the military, ban from adoption, no discrimination protection, and more. Being LGBT in China, even in a more tolerant place like Chengdu, means being banished from several aspects of a normal daily life. Looking forward, it is questionable when LGBT rights will finally become fully protected in China, as both internal and external impetus seem to be feeble.
Edited by Olivia Shan
Ruolan is in her last year at McGill University, majoring in Political Science and Economics. As a staff writer of Catalyst, she is particularly interested in the economic policies in Asia and the politics of authoritarian regimes.
An interesting read on a subject that I had no previous knowledge.
An interesting read on a subject on which I had no previous knowledge.