From Ramallah to New York, Tel Aviv to Porto Alegre, people around the world celebrate a formidable, transnational Palestinian LGBTQ social movement. Solidarity with Palestinians has become a salient domain of global queer politics. Yet LGBTQ Palestinians, even as they fight patriarchy and imperialism, are themselves subjected to an "empire of critique" from Israeli and Palestinian institutions, Western academics, journalists and filmmakers, and even fellow activists. Such global criticism has limited growth and led to an emphasis within the movement on anti-imperialism over the struggle against homophobia.
With this book, Sa'ed Atshan asks how transnational progressive social movements can balance struggles for liberation along more than one axis. He explores critical junctures in the history of Palestinian LGBTQ activism, revealing the queer Palestinian spirit of agency, defiance, and creativity, in the face of daunting pressures and forces working to constrict it. Queer Palestine and the Empire of Critique explores the necessity of connecting the struggles for Palestinian freedom with the struggle against homophobia.
since english isn’t my first language, I was having a really difficult time with this book & i hope to reread it when i think i am more confident in reading difficult books in english.
I cried at the start of this book. I am very passionate about my and other people’s queerness and seeing queer people speak up about their unique, individual queer experiences which are affected by where they live, where they grew up, their culture and so on is so important and always reaches the deepest parts of my heart.
‘’My mother’s response will be with me forever. Upon sharing that I am gay with her in Arabic, she replied,
The reason I am crying is that I cannot believe you have gone through all of this without me. I wish that I had been able to be by your side. But I am now comforted that you have come to me. I am proud of you for how far you have come. I did know deep down inside, like every mother does, but we hold on to the doubt until it is confirmed to us otherwise. I want you to know that my respect for you has only increased. This is something incredible difficult in our society, but you are my son. I love you, forever and always.” ♡
After i read this I immediately screenshotted it and reread it so many times. I could read this part a thousand times more and I would still cry and have this warm feeling inside my heart. Even though this was only a small part in the beginning, which was an introduction if i remember correctly, reading this was so beautiful. It also shows that not every person (who isn’t queer) who lives in a homophobic society is homophobic, which I think is important to acknowledge and see especially when we’re talking about arabic countries.
The topics discussed in this book were very important and very complex. Especially now that the world is finally seeing the crimes Israel has been committing against the palestinian people, it is important to know what queerness has to do with all this. Before reading this book, I watched some videos about “pinkwashing” to understand what it is, and the only thing I can say is that I am truly disgusted. Israel using my identity to gain support and hide their crimes is disgusting! And the members of my community supporting this is even more disgusting, I am truly ashamed. I learned a lot about queer palestinian organisations, queer palestinians and more in this book.
Recently I’ve been seeing a lot of people talking shit about “queers for palestine” and I’ve been thinking a lot about how not many people understand why queer people support palestine, but i think now i can say in confidence that I don’t care about those opinions anymore. Queer people stand with palestine because we stand against the oppression of all people. I will remember this book forever & one day all palestinians, heterosexual or queer, will be free 🇵🇸 I am so glad for this book and the author, queer palestinian voices are finally getting more attention 🤍
This is complex book of feelings, history, frustration, anger, analysis, wishes and yes..."critique." Writing from within the Queer Palestinian diaspora, Sa'ed Atshan lays out his frustration, hurt and disappointment with a movement (at home and internationally) that he feels has come to a "plateau" because of what he experiences as overly strict and punitive political analysis by key leaders and public figures, who he names. Detailed histories and key incidents in movement building and faltering are laid out for the record from his perspective, giving supporters and observers a story of relationships, efforts and strategies that have pushed the Palestinian queer experience forward into a public eye that some may not want and others believe is necessary. Some of this is riveting, upsetting, disturbing, and the book is essential although controversial reading for anyone interested in the Queer Palestinian movement.
As someone who is overly praised in this book, and not taken to task for real failings (for example- much that went wrong with the first LGBT delegation to Palestine can be traced to my errors, which he leaves unaddressed), I can attest to a good/bad dichotomy in significant places that made me personally uncomfortable- especially when friends and people I admire and respect and rely on for insight are depicted as overly ideological.
At the same time, Atshan is honest and passionate about his experience, and takes his right to speak seriously and rigorously. This is a book, I think, about the difference between a movement and a community and an identity- and how these elusive yet distinct formations impact on, replace, and contradict each other.
The fact that the book emerges as the West Bank is close to being annexed by the corrupt Israeli state- equaled only by Trump's America as chaotic, illegal, and driven by domination- further contextualizes the pressures on Palestinians, diasporically and at home. I think the primary take away of The Empire of Critique is that Palestine and Queer Palestine are multi-dimensional societies in crisis that cannot be controlled or streamlined into one cohesive point of view, and yet the stakes are so high and the obstacles so daunting, that the movement aspect of Palestinian survival requiring coherence and coordination does conflict with Atshan's wish for individual opinion and expression without "pressure" to adhere.
Whether this pressure is because of overzealous boundary building, or is a survival mechanism for people who want the basic right of autonomy is something that remains to be defined.
I've been putting off this review because there's just... so much to say. I have a long LONG notes app with information I wanted to include but I just keep not doing it, so here's my review. It's a wonderful book, it has a lot of great thoughts, is incredibly informative, and critical while also being kind and thoughtful of the plights of the movement. I think it also has a lot to say about all activist movements with the Empire of Critique. Read this. Might be one of my top 10 of the year.
There is a lot to get from this book in regards to following the queer Palestinian struggle and pink washing attempts by Israel!
HOWEVER I will not lie, I was repeatedly rubbed the wrong way by this book. despite what saying others, the book feels very lenient towards israelis. like it says queer palestinian activists are “radical purists” for not wanting to listen to or be in solidarity with queer israelis or being upset by activists that do so but no actually i do not think there is any need for that at all. will you tell jewish people to sit and have a productive conversation with a nazi? should indigenous people ally with european ‘sympathizers’ that did nothing but speak and still reaped the benefits of their genocide in real time? no. you’d think that person is insane for saying that so why the hell is such a large portion of this book dedicated to pushing that? it was extremely jarring and felt like it was nudging to be like “see, we’re not all crazy radical”. and it’s crazy to me that no one else is pointing this out in the reviews?
A deeply personal, nuanced autoethnography on LGBTQ+ organizing in Palestine. I appreciate a lot about this text: the author does not shy away from grappling with the complexity of the struggles he discusses. Atshan articulates some very important critiques of critique in his chapter ‘Critique of Empire and the Politics of Academia’ that are relevant to many disciplines and areas of study. He advances a deeply intersectional politic that powerfully critiques the very real pressures on activists to hierarchalize or prioritize struggles.
Content warnings: discussions of homophobia, transphobia, colonialism, racism, Islamophobia, Antisemitism, war, hate crimes
A brilliant critique of critique, that is, the ways in which academic and other forms of criticism can stifle grassroots activism — or, ideally, create space for diverse perspectives to be heard. Applicable well beyond the context of queer Palestinian activism.
Compared to the previous queer non-fiction books I’ve read by gay men, this work is leagues better in its analyses and arguments about the subject matter (i.e., ethnoheteronormativity, pinkwashing, and discursive disenfranchisement under the empire of critique).
As of writing this review, I will consider this formative to my queer scholarship.
However, I only rated it three stars because I’m still unconvinced by the author’s categorization of "radical purists" even after finishing the book.
I also felt that including other scholars' studies about homophobia (why and how it came to be) could have provided more context to readers, especially those new to intersectionality and Asian studies.
Still there were plenty of insights from activists and queer Palestinians that resonated with me.
Fascinating book written in (mostly) accessible language that outlines how damaging the queer Palestinian movement can be to its own growth and success when it fights internally rather than looking at the bigger issue at hand. The bigger issue at hand = the state of isr*el
Free palestine btw 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸 from the river to the sea
This is one of the most thought-provoking books I've read in a while - and one that I know I am going to recommend strongly. I would note, however, that in the case of individual activists and groups, Atshan has one perspective and at times perhaps an overly harsh one. Atshan explains his autoethnographic approach clearly, allowing him to combine rigorous research with insight from his own experiences, and would be the last person to present his work as sitting outside subjectivity while still insisting on theoretical clarity. At the heart of this book is Atshan's insistence that discussions about pinkwashing - the phenomenon in which LGBTQI+ policies are used to distract from broader human rights abuses - must be situated in an analysis of who is speaking, what power they have, and what experiences they come from. In doing this, he powerfully reflects on the experiences of being gay and Palestinian - caught between movements which seek to minimise the impact of the Israeli occupation on his life and those reluctant to provide space for discussion on how queer Palestinians counter, manage and avoid homophobia in order not to feed into a narrative that reinforces Pinkwashing. This Atash describes as an "Empire of Critique" - a surrounding discourse in which the identities of queer Arabs can be so politicised there is little space to breathe. Atshan goes on to criticise what he describes as a growing "moral purity" which makes it increasingly difficult to work with queer youth, who may, for various reasons, choose to live in Haifa over the West Bank (as leaving Palestine implies criticism), to fight the Israeli policies which deny queer Arabs civil rights in Israel or to connect with queer Israeli activists winning concrete gains (as recognition of gains can feed into pinkwashing). In short, Atshan is asking for more recognition of the messiness of queer life in a place where queer rights have become the subject of a propaganda war. Israel has long positioned itself as a world leader in LGBTQ circles, centered on the city of Tel Aviv, which claims 25% of its 400,000 residents identify as gay or lesbian, and builds its annual pride event as a global tourist attraction. It is in some ways an odd fit - Israel has no gay/lesbian (or indeed civil) marriage provisions, does not allow surrogacy for LGBT couples, and has no legal protection around discrimination against trans people in work or housing and Jerusulem has prevalent homophobic street harassment, but the trick here is in the dog-whistle phrase "best in the Middle East" which barely tries to hide the real contrast - with the Arab, Muslim communities it borders where homophobic attitudes largely remain the majority. In this way, Israel's trumpeting of LGBT achievements is directly tied to its occupation of Palestinian territory, and,it is often tied to an image that Israel offers sanctuary for queer Palestinians. The reality, of course, is that few queer Palestinians can access Israel at all, and even fewer are able to live there (just 4% of the population of Tel Aviv is Arab!). Adding to the tensions, Isreali military/police boast about targeting queer Palestinians for blackmail and were exposed at least once for faking a hate crime killing to cover up an Israeli murder of young Palestinians. All of which places unbearable pressure on young queers in the West Bank or Haifa, with an identity weaponised by all sides. Homosexuality is not outlawed in Palestinian law, but it is difficult to register queer organisations and social acceptance of queer lives is low. However, as in all societies, many families support their queer relatives, and social integration varies. Atshan argues for a movement which can meet Palestinian queers where their needs are, acknowledging the difficulties of both living under occupation and living with homophobia, and most of all, the intersections of those things. I'm not sure I came out of this book with any answers, but I felt like I much better understood the problems, and surely that has to be a beginning.
A really important nuanced, complex look at the the unique plight of queer Palestinian activism and activists. Subject to what Atshan calls the 'empire of criticism' from both the left and right-wing activists, 'pinkwashing' Zionists and what Atshan calls 'pinkwatching' pro-Palestinian 'radical purists' who denounce those deviating from what they deem a 'pure' ideology of anti-imperialist/colonialist activism. Even though as Atshan points out the realities of queer Palestinian lives are tied up with liberation from the nationalist apartheid ethnostate which is Israel.
Activists also suffer most painfully from internal criticism and division within the queer Palestinian movement and fellow Palestinians, which can too often police queer Palestinians' for being seen to be upholding pinkwashing. Whilst then alienating queer people who need support and to be welcomed as part of a diverse and not monolithic movement, as Atshan forcibly and articulately argues.
Much food for thought in making connections between queer liberation and anti-colonialist politics, showing us that we can take in multiple and often difficult truths whilst remaining, steadfast in our commitment to a free liberated Palestine.
Definitely worth a read especially if your in the Palestinian activism space or just an activist more generally, as a guide of what mistakes to avoid and how to make movements truly intersectional and inclusive.
i struggled with this at parts because it's highly academic and reads as an intermediate work, making reference to other academics throughout, and i may have benefited from having more knowledge of this area going in. however, its thorough examination of transnational activism, pinkwashing, boycotts, and queer palestinian media and academia was expertly done. what i found most informative was the way israel creates a social/political/legal facade of protecting and promoting queer rights (while doing the opposite) in order to highlight an 'anti-queer' nature of palestine and the palestinian experience. sa'ed also highlighted the way the west polices activists and becomes overly involved in being the right kind of ally, which i found very important. i won't be giving a rating as it doesn't feel particularly appropriate but i gained a lot from this - it just took me some time to get through due to its academic style.
This was so great! Highly recommend. While it does have a lot of academic jargon and critical theory discussions, there is also a lot of more accessible content throughout.
This is an intersection of two subjects I care deeply about, and such a thorough analysis of the complicated interaction between these is incredibly interesting to me. I feel every angle Atshan explores is well-developed and well-cited. My only real issue is that there is a lot of restatement that makes the text seem bloated, and a lot could be cut out that disrupts the flow without actually cutting any content at all.
sooo very academic and so many words i dont know, but i understood enough of this to give it 4 stars! this is essential for anyone who is an lgbtq activist as well as someone who is outspoken against the israeli occupation of palestine. atshan really hammers in the point of pinkwashing, which is something i didn’t know much about until reading.
Sa’ed Atshan, a Western bourgeois academic who refused to withdraw from a university event attended by Zionist Israeli academics despite a PACBI call to boycott—even as his colleague Beshara Doumani pulled out, and Electronic Intifada flagged his participation while noting his purported support for BDS—wants oppressed Palestinians and their Zionist oppressors to “find common language and a common frame of reference so that we can hear each other with empathy and with respect.” Yet, he ironically criticizes Massad for perpetuating the “naturalization of oppressive power relations” in this book.
Atshan discusses ad nauseam in his book how nasty “homophobic” academics and Palestinians are while stressing “queer” Palestinian agency. He lambasts how Palestinian queers suffer:
“Surveillance by both Hamas and Israel certainly creates significant risks for queer Palestinians in Gaza.”
One cannot ignore Atshan’s views mirror the queer activists at OutRage! who were shown by Jasbir Puar to have equated Israeli settler colonial oppression with Palestinian persecution of queers by carrying placards reading, “Israel: stop persecuting Palestine! Palestine: stop persecuting queers!” and “Stop ‘honour’ killing women and gays in Palestine.”
Atshan consistently villainizes the Palestinian resistance in Gaza, portraying Hamas as oppressors on par with Israeli colonizers and insisting having the same urgency to confront both. This flattening recurs throughout the book, as when he frames support for queer and trans Palestinians in Gaza as a struggle against both “Israel’s medieval siege” and the “suffocating oppressive pressures of Hamas control.” The effect is to equate occupation with resistance & erase the asymmetry of power between the settler & indigene. The book is clearly aimed at a Western queer readership who will be ignorant of Atshan’s pro-colonial framing.
The final chapter is dedicated to a scathing critique of Joseph Massad’s concept of “the gay international” and Jasbir Puar’s “homonationalism,” likely because Massad and Puar so effectively describe and pierce the Western-centric, queer diaspora bourgeois subjectivity that Atshan embodies. Unable to refute Massad’s central thesis that the “gay international,” which encapsulates the modern LGBT movement, is a Western social category imposed on colonized societies—Atshan grudgingly concedes at the outset that Massad raises legitimate points, but accuses him of “victim-blaming.” He also objects that Massad cannot provide evidence for his “analysis of same-sex identifications in the Arab world,” yet the burden of proof rests on Atshan to demonstrate that LGBT identity is universal and inviolable.
It is puzzling that Atshan appeals to Al-Qaws to prove that Western LGBTQ terms have been “indigenized,” given that Al-Qaws is a Western aligned LGBT NGO based in Israel that was previously funded by the New Israel Fund. Atshan defends Al-Qaws’ Western funding by claiming that Massad is purity spiraling and questioning how queer Palestinians can remain “pure” from Western institutional support, noting that even BDS is largely dependent on international aid. But Atshan is conflating organizations aligned with BDS goals that have received Western funding goals, with BDS proper. And regardless, BDS is not above criticism (PFLP criticized BDS), It is also important to note the New Israel Fund explicitly states that it “does not support the global (or central) BDS movement,” yet funded Al-Qaws for years.
Atshan attempts to undermine Massad’s claim that Al-Qaws is based in Israel by citing queer Israeli solidarity activists and right-wing Israelis which employ Massad’s argument to highlight Israel’s gay-friendliness. But this is a guilt by association fallacy that can be discarded. Clearly Massad & these Israelis are correct while Atshan is wrong.
Further, Atshan’s disingenuous claim that critiques of “queer Palestinian activism” focusing on Al-Qaws’ office location “reinforce” the artificial division of historic Palestine ignores the reality that Al-Qaws has operated inside Israel proper without facing raids or arrests, while other Palestinians inside “Israel proper” like Raed Salah have been repeatedly detained. Clearly the Israeli state does not view Al-Qaws as a threat to their settler colonial project.
Atshan also falsely claims that Massad contradicted himself regarding the Egyptian Queen Boat arrests, arguing simultaneously that the state punished the men while they denied gay identities. But Massad is just arguing that the Egyptian state produced the homosexual subject through police, courts, media, medical exams, etc. Massad maintains that not all arrested men self-identified as gay or even understood the concept. Atshan doesn’t understand what the word “contradiction” means and is clearly illiterate.
Elsewhere in the book, Atshan asserts:
“I do not think it is a coincidence that Gaza is the region in Palestine in which homophobia is most prominently and aggressively manifested as well as the region facing the most brutal and devastating Israeli occupation policies.”
Actually, it is no coincidence that the region not ruled by a comprador regime & actually represents the genuine will of the Palestinian people is less tolerant toward homosexual behavior. And ironically this argument denies Palestinian agency and denies that Palestinians can arrive at their own conclusions about queer practices.
In short, Atshan, unable to escape his Western individualist subjectivity, does a tremendous disservice to the Palestinian national movement, engaging in what Puar would describe as “lowest common denominator” identity politics. His sentimental defense of queer Palestinians’ “agency,” claiming that terms like “gay” have been indigenized & activists are surprised when Massad “naturalizes” Arab or Palestinian identities, only underscores Massad’s insight: such indigenization occurs within a lattice of Western epistemologies and institutional backing. Appeals to Al-Qaws or other liberal-Zionist-funded NGOs do nothing to refute anything said by Massad or Puar.
Furthermore, the “not in our name” argument advanced by Atshan and the Pinkwatchers he defends is deeply problematic because it implies that Israel is genuinely promoting or safeguarding LGBT rights. Even if Israel were incontrovertibly a positive force for the LGBT movement, this would in no way justify its settler-colonial, eliminationist project against Palestinians, nor would it shift the primary political imperative from resisting Zionist settler colonialism to providing support to “persecuted” queer subjects in the West Bank & Gaza. And Massad, Puar, and Mikdashi have been vindicated post operation Al-Aqsa Flood: these queer diaspora Palestinian activists remain minuscule & have done nothing to impede Israel’s genocide in Gaza, and choose instead to hyperfixate on Western idpol while remaining ineffectual.
Cuts through the dangerous performativity of Israeli (state) queer progressivism to underscore the complexity of middle eastern LGBTQIA+ politics and activism. Great appraisals of Massad and Puar too: it’s so easy to criticise as Euro-Western academics and not have to account for the ramifications of your words. I worship Puar but it is compelling to hear a counterargument for her criticisms of western epistemic hegemony, one that doesn’t simply reject her ideas but proposes that we refrain from polarised projections of east-west. And Atshan’s concluding message is vital: solidarity should always trump blind critique.
4.5⭐️ I went into this knowing it’d be a very academic text, but was somehow surprised by how dense it was. Despite it being so dense it was still pretty readable, very enlightening, and to my pleasant surprise it didn’t rely heavily on jargon.
The book is a comprehensive study of queer Palestine solidarity for the first two decades of the 21st century. It was published in 2020 so it will not reflect changes over the past four years (especially the past year). The “empire of critique” sounds painfully academic and lofty concept, but the author breaks it down in a tangible way and I was able to identify how the concept shows up in other aspects of lefty activism in my own life. Overall, this book is VERY worth your time if you want to learn more about queer Palestinian activism and its relationship to queer international solidarity for the Palestinian liberation movement.
This book took me five months to finish, but every minute was worth it. One of the best academic works I have read in years. Insightful, caring, and critical all at once.
This work beautifully and effectively "problematized notions of authority and authenticity in academic and activist representations" of Queer Palestinian existence and its solidarity movements. An incredibly brilliant and accessible book.
Liberal apologia…Atshan is a vibrant, empathetic person whose commitment to research, anthropology, and affective analysis is awe-inspiring. But this is such an ideological cop-out especially read during this current genocide.
This is possibly the best articulated evidence I’ve ever read for the importance of intersectionality in activism and political struggle!
Atshan begins by explaining how the complicated political layers of oppression, occupation, and surveillance weave together and reinforce each other.
He follows this with the DEEPEST dive into the complex issues and criticisms of pink washing and pink watching. {I was especially interested by the way Israeli pink washing actually reinforces homophobia in Palestine}
Atshan then examines the roll of criticism and critique within activism, as well as the damage it can cause to solidarity movements and queer liberation. {I’ll admit, it’s so complex and exhausting, it’s a miracle queer Palestinian activists are ever able to accomplish anything at all}
One of my biggest takeaways is how issues of feminism, class, and queerness are not only connected, but integral to the struggle for national Palestinian liberation. {All activism must be intersectional to be truly effective or successful}
I’ll be honest, at first I thought “Oh no, I’m about to read someone’s dissertation; what have I gotten myself into?”, but I was utterly fascinated from start to finish! This book is exceptional! I cannot recommend it highly enough to anyone interested in queer liberation and/or solidarity with the Palestinian struggle.
Excellent book, I'm glad I got to read this as the last book in my Middle East Gender Studies class. Atshan makes very valuable points about pinkwashing and media representation of queer Palestinians, but to me the most impactful chapter was chapter 5, wherein Atshan calls out the teichoscopic tendencies of academics to sit upon their theory-thrones and talk down to activists. (I'm being a lot less generous than he is.) This is an important thing to be said: there is an inherent divorce between theory and reality. Theory has a certain callousness that, while often useful, can also be insensitive to the lived experiences of the subaltern and even just blatantly untrue. Great read through and through.
Lettura a tema per il Pride Month perfetta ❤️ Sa'ed Atshan, antropologo palestinese e omosessuale, analizza la comunità queer in Palestina, mostrando le problematiche che devono affrontare tutti i giorni. La comunità LGBTQIA+ palestinese deve affrontare l'omolesbotransfobia della propria comunità (Atshan non la nasconde) ma anche l'occupazione israeliana che sfrutta le difficoltà della comunità queer, ricattando e mettendoli ancora più a rischio. L'autore mostra anche come Isr. non sia questo paradiso per le persone gay e tratta del pinkwashing del governo israeliano. Anche attraverso testimonianze, Atshan fa un grande lavoro di documentazione e riflessione che consiglio assolutamente di leggere, soprattutto per zittire molti sionisti 🍉✊🏻
Some interesting points, but most of it reads like the author has a personal gripe against certain Palestinian organisations. There's a lot of clumsy writing too (e.g. the phrase "empire of critique" makes me cringe a bit). Since reading the book, I have also learnt that the author makes claims that are simply not true. For example, he was apparently never an activist with AlQaws which he claims throughout the book. I have not seen this book much discussed amongst Palestinian queers. However, it has been lauded by westerners.
"Queer liberation cannot be realized while colonial subjugation persists, but the movement toward dignity for queer people should not be expected to wait until the realization of national liberation. Decoupling these struggles is ultimately impossible; they are inextricably linked"
This book has introduced a bunch of concepts and perspectives that I was unaware of prior, and I appreciate all the different angles that Atshan has written about to add nuance to the discussion! I personally think that anyone who discusses queerness within the context of the occupation should definitely read this book, as it has many insights to offer.