The Gay Question

I have a pretty chatty office, especially when the second-in-command (who sits with us) is traveling like she is this week. This chatter while working normally does not get that heavy, with normal talk of what people made for dinner last night, movies, the terrible traffic, and gentle mocking of William for his lady-chasing ways and Martin for his insistence on wearing a tie every day. This morning, however, things suddenly turned rather intense. The subject was a new law proposed by the Ghanaian government that would legalize homosexuality. From what I've gathered, right now homosexuality is of ambivalent legal status in Ghana, and while this law would not give gays significant rights, it would essentially proclaim that it is legal to engage in a homosexual relationship. Nothing too earth-shattering – except, apparently, to the majority of Ghanaians.

Now, I knew that Africa has in general a strong opposition to homosexuality, and have learned since I arrived that Ghana, especially in the South, is a strongly religious (Christian) country (seriously, I have had to explain to so many Ghanaians that yes, I really do not go to church on Sunday). But I was legitimately shocked to hear what came out of some of my coworkers’ mouths.

Homosexuality is disgusting, morally wrong, going to corrupt society. I’m not going to repeat it all here – you’ve heard it before. But given the somewhat shelteredly-liberal life I’ve led, it was still strange for me to hear this coming not from crazy conservatives on TV but people who I work next to and genuinely like and respect. To hear Ernest, the incredibly sweet and funny finance guy with a big smile proclaim completely seriously (but still with his trademark smile) that he wishes they would kill all gays but “knows that’s not realistic” was deeply upsetting.

Even the “liberal” voices in the office arguing in support of the legalization were not what I expected. One said that obviously homosexuality is against God’s will, but so is having sex with a condom so at this point it makes no difference if the government says its ok to be gay too. The other said that, yes, homosexuality is wrong, but I don’t really care what the government says about it as long as they work to improve access to water, electricity, and all the other problems Ghana faces. He saw the whole thing as a distraction from the real issues the government should be addressing.

To this, Ernest fiercely disagreed, arguing that he would personally never vote again for any politician who supported this measure. After having read a fair amount about how to make African governments more accountable to providing services for their people, it was honestly a bit disheartening to hear that whether a politician provides education and healthcare is much less important to a Ghanaian citizen than whether the politician says homosexuality should be legal. And Ernest’s is in no way a radical viewpoint in Ghana. Many in the office agreed with him and there is widespread organized opposition in the country to the proposed law.

So you may be wondering what I was doing during all this talk. For the most part, biting my lip VERY VERY VERY hard to keep from erupting. As the one non-Ghanaian in the office today, and still in many ways the new girl, I didn’t want to say anything too offensive, especially since this was their country’s issue that I didn’t know all that much about. At one point, though, I just felt like I was betraying myself to keep quiet, so I made a few basic comments suggesting that, in my experiences, gay people are, you know, not actually the devil. Marian, my truly lovely coworker, explained to me gently but reproachfully that, “That is fine in America. It is part of your culture. But gays are not part of Africa’s culture. We have already lost so much of who we are and what we believe to the influence of others.”

Now obviously, there are a myriad of problems with the statement, not the least of which is that so much of the Ghanaians' opposition comes directly from the Bible, which, I’m preeeeeetty sure, is an outside influence itself on Africa’s culture. But it really got me thinking about two questions, both of which I’m still puzzling over.

The first is the extent to which I can judge Ernest, Marian, and the others for their beliefs. If someone in America told me that they thought all gay people should be killed, it’s a pretty safe bet that I would think they were a despicable person who I had no real interest in knowing. But in this situation can I really let these views affect my opinion of these otherwise wonderful, kind, intelligent people? To what extent does the circumstances of where they live and the culture they were raised in excuse otherwise indefensible beliefs? And if you make the argument that it does, where does the line fall? If I can excuse Ernest, why can’t I excuse someone from a deeply conservative part of the US who preaches the same beliefs?

And secondly (and relatedly), what can my role really be in these discussions? As an outsider, how can I draw the line (there are lots of lines here in case you didn’t notice) between attempting to influence thought and being disrespectful to their culture? Without truly “understanding” the context of Ghana, do I have a right to say what laws they should be passing?  To what degree does the fact that I’m American, not African, invalidate my argument about what I believe is a basic human right?

These are questions I’m sure I’ll continue to struggle with during my time here. While this morning’s conversation was in many ways highly disturbing, it was also eye-opening and thought-provoking, and so, while I continue to struggle to figure out my new feelings toward him, I will at least give Ernest credit for that.