Peter Tatchell Interview - No Regrets.
pirate | 22.09.2004 15:11 | Social Struggles | World
For those of you who wonder what makes Peter Tatchell 'tick' see the following interview
in The Guardian Sept 22. (Society Section)
(Pirated,with apologies,from The Guardian.)
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No regrets
Death threats, physical assault and verbal abuse ... Peter Tatchell has had to put up with a lot during 40 years of campaigning for social justice. But he has no intention of giving up now, he tells Mary O'Hara
Wednesday September 22, 2004
The Guardian
For a man with multiple death threats hanging over him, Peter Tatchell is remarkably composed. Not that he shares this view. "I look completely exhausted; I probably wouldn't take a great picture," he says on the phone a few hours before we meet. Tatchell, social activist extraordinaire, has been working seven days a week on his latest campaign, against homophobic lyrics in reggae music, itself part of a long-running protest at discrimination against gay men and lesbians in Jamaica.
Typically, the campaign has irked some liberal commentators. Tatchell has been derided for his ignorance of Jamaican culture and called a racist for demanding that two Jamaican reggae artists were banned from the Music of Black Origin Awards (Mobos). He shrugs. "We've focused on eight artists who have released songs that have variously called for gay people to be shot, burned, stabbed, drowned and hung. These are incitements to murder, which is a criminal offence."
Tatchell bombarded the Mobos with letters and emails, and implored the BBC not to broadcast the event. He led street demonstrations against what he has termed "murder music". The tactics finally bore fruit two weeks ago when Elephant Man and Vybx Kartel were dropped by the Mobos after they refused to apologise for homophobic lyrics. Elsewhere, he has pestered nightclubs and reggae festivals with requests to ban artists, with varying degrees of success. Some gigs have been cancelled.
He accuses the liberal left and governments (both Jamaican and British) of failing to condemn hate lyrics or to come to the assistance of persecuted gay Jamaicans. This, he claims, is endorsing homophobia and is a "benign form of racism".
The backlash has been vociferous. Instead of enjoying his Mobos victory, he is facing allegations both of racism and "cultural imperialism". He is "stunned and hurt" by some of the reactions - particularly from the black press. "It is utterly bizarre," he says. "I expected some opposition, but not the ill-founded accusations of racism. They have been emotionally devastating."
He is visibly despondent. Being an oppressed minority is no excuse for oppressing another minority group, he says. He gains strength from the support of black gay rights groups, which have rallied to his side. All anyone has to do, Tatchell insists, is to look at his record of defending black people against racism, such as his campaigns against apartheid and, more recently, attempts to highlight human rights abuses by Robert Mugabe. (Tatchell says he was left brain damaged after being beaten by the Zimbabwean leader's henchmen when he confronted Mugabe on the steps of a hotel in Brussels last year). "In 1983, neo-Nazis accused me of being an 'N'-lover because I stood up and defended the black community against white racists, and yet here we are 20 years later ... "
He sounds exasperated, but he's like a dog with a bone. "The police uncovered a plot in 1995 by the neo-Nazi group Combat 18 to kill me because they hated the fact that I was defending black and gay people. And now I'm getting threats from some black people because I'm defending gay Jamaicans. I can't win."
The threats are serious, he says. "The Metropolitan Police have advised me there is a possibility that I may be killed. Some of the people we are targeting have connections with gangsters." So how afraid is he? "It's sort of par for the course, y'know?" He suddenly looks weary. His eyes lower for the only time in the interview. He admits to keeping a fire extinguisher by his bedside in his south London council flat in case of hate attacks.
For almost four decades, Tatchell has been campaigning on controversial issues. While primarily concentrating on gay rights issues such as the age of consent, he has also brought his particular brand of activist politics to topics such as Aids and capital punishment. Current campaigns include defending the rights of gay Palestinians to seek asylum in Israel, and challenging the introduction of repressive antigay legislation in Russia.
Born in Melbourne in 1952, Tatchell began campaigning in his teens, railing against the death penalty, the war in Vietnam and the treatment of Aborigines. After moving to the UK in 1971, he began a long struggle for gay and human rights, first with the Gay Liberation Front and eventually with the radical gay rights group OutRage!, which he co-founded in 1990.
There have been two unsuccessful forays into mainstream politics - one as the Labour party's candidate in the Bermondsey by-election of 1983, in which he was demonised by the tabloid press for his homosexuality, and, almost two decades later, standing as an independent for the London Assembly.
You wonder, however, if he has not achieved more outside mainstream politics. His methods have consistently provoked strong reactions, often being described as over the top and unnecessary. He once threw himself on former prime minister John Major's car, and in 1994 he outed 10 Church of England bishops - justified, he says, because they were "colluding with homophobic policies". Within a month, the church had issued its strongest condemnation of anti-gay discrimination and opened talks with lesbian and gay groups.
Tatchell has been vilified from all sides of the political spectrum, variously described as an "extremist", an "exhibitionist", a "homosexual terrorist", a "nigger lover" and, now, as a "racist". Why does he continue in the face of such relentless assaults? "Maybe I've got an over-developed conscience," he says, self-mockingly. "I believe I am right. I focus on the issues that most other people are neglecting. I suppose I think: 'That could be me or a member of my family.'"
Tatchell recoils at the idea of taking credit for his achievements. "That would be egotistic." He says he is "unexceptional" and "only one of millions of people" who feel the need to take action in the form of direct protest.
An hour into the interview (most of which takes place outside the loos in a cavernous underground nightclub in Leicester Square), Tatchell is in full flow, his weariness evaporating. I ask if he is an angry person. "Anger doesn't drive me; it's love and empathy with other human beings. I get upset. I internalise it." There's a long, loose laugh.
Hasn't he ever just wanted to give up? "Lots of times." He talks of his "many sacrifices" and says the absence of a loving relationship is among the most difficult. His meagre existence is another. During the course of our meeting, he refers to the fact that he has never had much money and that, unlike other gay rights groups - notably the pressure group, Stonewall - his has "limited resources, no staff and no formal funding".
He is reluctant to admit it, but his health concerns now cast a long shadow over his work. "The doctor told me after the Mugabe incident that I wouldn't be able to campaign in the same way. But I still try."
He worries that the left, and New Labour, are letting down the marginalised people they should be defending, and that he despairs of some trends in the gay community. Most gay and lesbian MPs have been a "big let down", he sighs, adding: "The commercialisation of gay culture is rather sad. Too many gay people have gone along with a set of values that judge people by their style and material possessions rather than their character."
Has he any regrets? "No." Not even regarding outing people? "No."
So after the Mobos, what does the future hold? He confesses to being so fatigued he has at times hallucinated, but insists there are other battles to be fought. "I will continue to fight on behalf of persecuted Jamaicans. And there are other campaigns, just waiting to be taken off the shelf."
The CV
Age 52
Status Single
Education Mount Waverly high school, Melbourne, Australia. Sociology degree from the Polytechnic of North London.
Career 1969: begins a life of activism with protests against the Vietnam war and the death penalty; 1971: moves to Britain and joins the Gay Liberation Front; 1971-2004: spearheads numerous gay and human rights campaigns including protests against section 28; 1983: Labour candidate for Bermondsey; 1990: co-founder of the radical gay rights' organi sation OutRage!; 2000: stands as an independent candidate in the London assembly elections.
Interests Mountain hiking and body surfing.
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No regrets
Death threats, physical assault and verbal abuse ... Peter Tatchell has had to put up with a lot during 40 years of campaigning for social justice. But he has no intention of giving up now, he tells Mary O'Hara
Wednesday September 22, 2004
The Guardian
For a man with multiple death threats hanging over him, Peter Tatchell is remarkably composed. Not that he shares this view. "I look completely exhausted; I probably wouldn't take a great picture," he says on the phone a few hours before we meet. Tatchell, social activist extraordinaire, has been working seven days a week on his latest campaign, against homophobic lyrics in reggae music, itself part of a long-running protest at discrimination against gay men and lesbians in Jamaica.
Typically, the campaign has irked some liberal commentators. Tatchell has been derided for his ignorance of Jamaican culture and called a racist for demanding that two Jamaican reggae artists were banned from the Music of Black Origin Awards (Mobos). He shrugs. "We've focused on eight artists who have released songs that have variously called for gay people to be shot, burned, stabbed, drowned and hung. These are incitements to murder, which is a criminal offence."
Tatchell bombarded the Mobos with letters and emails, and implored the BBC not to broadcast the event. He led street demonstrations against what he has termed "murder music". The tactics finally bore fruit two weeks ago when Elephant Man and Vybx Kartel were dropped by the Mobos after they refused to apologise for homophobic lyrics. Elsewhere, he has pestered nightclubs and reggae festivals with requests to ban artists, with varying degrees of success. Some gigs have been cancelled.
He accuses the liberal left and governments (both Jamaican and British) of failing to condemn hate lyrics or to come to the assistance of persecuted gay Jamaicans. This, he claims, is endorsing homophobia and is a "benign form of racism".
The backlash has been vociferous. Instead of enjoying his Mobos victory, he is facing allegations both of racism and "cultural imperialism". He is "stunned and hurt" by some of the reactions - particularly from the black press. "It is utterly bizarre," he says. "I expected some opposition, but not the ill-founded accusations of racism. They have been emotionally devastating."
He is visibly despondent. Being an oppressed minority is no excuse for oppressing another minority group, he says. He gains strength from the support of black gay rights groups, which have rallied to his side. All anyone has to do, Tatchell insists, is to look at his record of defending black people against racism, such as his campaigns against apartheid and, more recently, attempts to highlight human rights abuses by Robert Mugabe. (Tatchell says he was left brain damaged after being beaten by the Zimbabwean leader's henchmen when he confronted Mugabe on the steps of a hotel in Brussels last year). "In 1983, neo-Nazis accused me of being an 'N'-lover because I stood up and defended the black community against white racists, and yet here we are 20 years later ... "
He sounds exasperated, but he's like a dog with a bone. "The police uncovered a plot in 1995 by the neo-Nazi group Combat 18 to kill me because they hated the fact that I was defending black and gay people. And now I'm getting threats from some black people because I'm defending gay Jamaicans. I can't win."
The threats are serious, he says. "The Metropolitan Police have advised me there is a possibility that I may be killed. Some of the people we are targeting have connections with gangsters." So how afraid is he? "It's sort of par for the course, y'know?" He suddenly looks weary. His eyes lower for the only time in the interview. He admits to keeping a fire extinguisher by his bedside in his south London council flat in case of hate attacks.
For almost four decades, Tatchell has been campaigning on controversial issues. While primarily concentrating on gay rights issues such as the age of consent, he has also brought his particular brand of activist politics to topics such as Aids and capital punishment. Current campaigns include defending the rights of gay Palestinians to seek asylum in Israel, and challenging the introduction of repressive antigay legislation in Russia.
Born in Melbourne in 1952, Tatchell began campaigning in his teens, railing against the death penalty, the war in Vietnam and the treatment of Aborigines. After moving to the UK in 1971, he began a long struggle for gay and human rights, first with the Gay Liberation Front and eventually with the radical gay rights group OutRage!, which he co-founded in 1990.
There have been two unsuccessful forays into mainstream politics - one as the Labour party's candidate in the Bermondsey by-election of 1983, in which he was demonised by the tabloid press for his homosexuality, and, almost two decades later, standing as an independent for the London Assembly.
You wonder, however, if he has not achieved more outside mainstream politics. His methods have consistently provoked strong reactions, often being described as over the top and unnecessary. He once threw himself on former prime minister John Major's car, and in 1994 he outed 10 Church of England bishops - justified, he says, because they were "colluding with homophobic policies". Within a month, the church had issued its strongest condemnation of anti-gay discrimination and opened talks with lesbian and gay groups.
Tatchell has been vilified from all sides of the political spectrum, variously described as an "extremist", an "exhibitionist", a "homosexual terrorist", a "nigger lover" and, now, as a "racist". Why does he continue in the face of such relentless assaults? "Maybe I've got an over-developed conscience," he says, self-mockingly. "I believe I am right. I focus on the issues that most other people are neglecting. I suppose I think: 'That could be me or a member of my family.'"
Tatchell recoils at the idea of taking credit for his achievements. "That would be egotistic." He says he is "unexceptional" and "only one of millions of people" who feel the need to take action in the form of direct protest.
An hour into the interview (most of which takes place outside the loos in a cavernous underground nightclub in Leicester Square), Tatchell is in full flow, his weariness evaporating. I ask if he is an angry person. "Anger doesn't drive me; it's love and empathy with other human beings. I get upset. I internalise it." There's a long, loose laugh.
Hasn't he ever just wanted to give up? "Lots of times." He talks of his "many sacrifices" and says the absence of a loving relationship is among the most difficult. His meagre existence is another. During the course of our meeting, he refers to the fact that he has never had much money and that, unlike other gay rights groups - notably the pressure group, Stonewall - his has "limited resources, no staff and no formal funding".
He is reluctant to admit it, but his health concerns now cast a long shadow over his work. "The doctor told me after the Mugabe incident that I wouldn't be able to campaign in the same way. But I still try."
He worries that the left, and New Labour, are letting down the marginalised people they should be defending, and that he despairs of some trends in the gay community. Most gay and lesbian MPs have been a "big let down", he sighs, adding: "The commercialisation of gay culture is rather sad. Too many gay people have gone along with a set of values that judge people by their style and material possessions rather than their character."
Has he any regrets? "No." Not even regarding outing people? "No."
So after the Mobos, what does the future hold? He confesses to being so fatigued he has at times hallucinated, but insists there are other battles to be fought. "I will continue to fight on behalf of persecuted Jamaicans. And there are other campaigns, just waiting to be taken off the shelf."
The CV
Age 52
Status Single
Education Mount Waverly high school, Melbourne, Australia. Sociology degree from the Polytechnic of North London.
Career 1969: begins a life of activism with protests against the Vietnam war and the death penalty; 1971: moves to Britain and joins the Gay Liberation Front; 1971-2004: spearheads numerous gay and human rights campaigns including protests against section 28; 1983: Labour candidate for Bermondsey; 1990: co-founder of the radical gay rights' organi sation OutRage!; 2000: stands as an independent candidate in the London assembly elections.
Interests Mountain hiking and body surfing.
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