Tiwonge Chimbalanga and Steven Monjeza got engaged last December – their engagement got the pair a 14-year prison sentence for unnatural acts and gross indecency. You see, Chimbalanga and Monjeza live in the African nation of Malawi, and the law there on anything viewed as a homosexual act is clearly illegal. They were taunted and catcalled by others in their township, and many there have made it clear that they will not be welcome home.
Much has been made of this story in the Western press, with Chimbalanga and Monjeza's commitment to marry recast as a marriage, and Chimbalanga's identity stripped away from her by both the media and LGBT rights organizations in an effort to cast this story as a same-sex marriage. Indeed, Chimbalanga's identity as a woman has been erased by much of the media either through a lack of understanding of her identity, or a callous disregard for her identity in favor of political expediency.
I dare say, it reminds me how, in the wake of Proposition 22 and Proposition 8 in California, I had been asked by some same-sex marriage advocates not to muddy the discussion by bringing up my own now 18-year-old, legal same-sex marriage. As you can suspect, neither my partner nor me listened very well.
Every photo I've seen of Chimbalanga shows me a strong African woman, wearing blouses and a wrap skirt like many of her contemporaries. She may potentially be intersexed, but it's clear that – to apply our own Western views to her identity – she could be at least viewed as transgender.
Let me quote Chimbalanga, just to help clarify the issue in the light of those who would like to erase her identity or the nature of their commitment: "I am just a woman who loves my man," said Chimbalanga. "I'd rather remain in prison than to be released into a world where I am kept away from Steven."
Chimbalanga's quote is important for two big reasons. For one, it makes it clear that to her, this is a mixed-sex relationship, and makes it clear to me that it is being forced through laws against same-sex marriage.
This sort of thing is not uncommon: Last week, the same thing happened in Pakistan, when police in Perhawar broke up a ceremony involving Iqbal Khan and Rani, a hijira-identified woman. The pair has claimed it was a birthday party, not a wedding, though police acted to break up the event citing same-sex marriage laws. Khan and Rani may face seven years in prison.
It's nothing new for the marriage of transgender people to be challenged based on same-sex marriage laws, either. As soon as laws against same-sex marriage hit the books in the United States, they were used against transgender people. In 2000, Christie Lee Littleton, a transgender woman, brought suit against her deceased husband's doctor, Mark Prange. Texas Chief Justice Phil Hardberger, on appeal, invalidated Littleton's marriage based on Texas statutes against same-sex marriage, also thereby invalidating her malpractice claim against Prange.
In the wake of Littleton v. Prange , many transgender women entered into legal same-sex marriages in Texas, given that Hardberger claimed that Littleton could not be female based on her chromosomal sex. We'll set aside that Littleton has not ever had a chromosome test.
Now here's the important thing: laws against same-sex marriage will always trap transgender people. No matter how we identify, no matter who we opt to marry, someone will claim our relationship is a same-sex one. My partner and I are the same gender, even if I wasn't when we wed. If Littleton married a man, Texas would call it a same-sex marriage. If she wed another woman, the casual onlooker would call it a same-sex marriage. A couple where both partners are transgender could even be said to be in a same-sex marriage twice over, or not, depending on how it ends up being viewed from the outside.
This is why it frustrates me so when I see transgender people – and identities – stripped away from the larger same-sex marriage movement. It has become a struggle for non-transgender gay men and lesbians, and those of us who are transgender are left out of the mix at best – or victims of erasure like Chimbalanga at worst. This is an issue we may all face – and in particular transgender people.
By the same token, it frustrates me when transgender activists claim that same-sex marriage is not our issue, or use is as a way to drive roadblocks between actual coalition building. We need to work in unison on this issue and, by extension, to secure all of the rights to which we as human beings are entitled.
The loss of rights for any one group is a loss of rights for everyone. It is vastly shortsighted to look at same-sex marriage as only a "gay" issue, particularly when there are people in the world who may face years in prison for violating these laws, even if they do not identify as homosexual. Identity politics will not serve us any good in the face of laws that will ensnare us all.
Over the weekend, Chimbalanga and Monjeza were pardoned by Malawi President Bingu wa Mutharika after pressure from numerous international aid donors and human rights groups. There has been no change in Malawi law nor in anti-homosexuality laws in other nations. On Monday, http://www.africanews.com reported that Chimbalanga was reportedly missing. We can assume that their countrymen will still not welcome Chimbalanga and Monjeza. The fight continues.
Gwen Smith and her partner celebrated their anniversary just a couple weeks ago. You can find them online at http://www.gwensmith.com.