In addition to physical violence queer-identifying people also experience the systemic violence of a legal system that continues to limit their access to justice and protections enshrined in the South African Constitution. In the account of de Lange described earlier in the text, the court found it unnecessary to address the conflicting rights of freedom of association and of religious freedom versus the right to equality and dignity (De Freitas, 2016), finding that the court had no jurisdiction in the matter and determining that the church leadership and de Lange should engage in internal arbitration to resolve the matter (Phekane, 2020). Van der Walt describes the outcome of that situation as a ‘poignant disconnect between the constitutional protection of the freedoms and rights of religious institutions and the rights and liberties of LGBTIQA+
people’ (2019: 222). Another example of egregious exclusion and stigma is the policy of the Dutch Reformed Church to reverse the recognition of civil unions for queer-identifying people.
In 2015 the Dutch Reformed Church made the decision to become the first church in Africa to recognise civil unions between persons of the same gender and to grant permission to ordained minsters to confirm such unions as well as to ordain openly gay clergy (Van der Walt, 2019).
The decision was overturned a year later, and queer-identifying people were cast out even after having been fully welcomed (Van der Walt, 2019). To acknowledge and affirm, and then later shun and condemn and reject, suggests that the ‘victim’ of this treatment is of no value. This is similar to the case of the Grace Bible Church in Soweto which hosted Bishop Dag Heward- Mills, who was visiting from West Africa. Heward-Mills gave a sermon condemning homosexuality as unnatural. He found an ally in Bishop Mosa Sono who affirmed Heward- Mills, stating that the only form of sexual relationship sanctioned by G-d is that between one man and one woman (Van der Walt, 2019). Bishop Mosa Sono is quoted as saying: in Van der Walt (2019: 225) stating that:
‘…we believe in heterosexual relationships between a natural man and a natural woman within the confines of lawful matrimony. Adherence to this stated principle of sexual behavior is an inherent requirement of membership of Grace Bible Church’
These sentiments do not only reject queer-identifying people and deny them a place of worship but do systemic harm in that they legitimise discrimination against queer-identifying people.
The role of religious institutions is constitutionally protected, and they are granted the freedom to regulate their own internal affairs with limited interference from the State. The wide-ranging freedom and lack of oversight is derived from the Bill of Rights of the South African Constitution: Article 15, the freedom of religion, Article 18, the freedom of association, and Article 31, the right to associate with religious communities (Van der Walt, 2019). Phekane (2020) suggests that, given the guarantee of freedom of religion that is seminal to the
Constitution, it could be argued that discrimination against queer-identifying people might be justifiable in a religious context in that religious denominations are free to determine and uphold their own interpretations of scripture. Van der Walt (2019) suggests that this places religious institutions at a complex intersection with the liberties of queer-identifying people, as a religious denomination may argue that it is their G-d-given right and even duty to deny certain persons their dignity and to discriminate against them based on one or more of their attributes or characteristics for instance race, class, sex, gender, or sexual orientation (Phekane, 2020).
Heterosexism in the form of discrimination against queer-identifying people sustains patriarchal religious institutions and is associated with abusive power relations (Phejane, 2020). Queer-identifying people who do not conform to the mould of heteropatriarchy are alienated and left feeling inhuman and worthless (Phejane, 2020). Similarly, Sibisi and Van der Walt (2021) write that the stability of the norm that heteropatriarchy prescribes is achieved by excluding, marginalising, and annihilating queer bodies, and Sullivan (2003) agrees, writing that heteronormative norms are created through the social meaning that is ascribed to people’s bodies while Milani (2014) asserts that those who do not conform are constantly vulnerable to violence. Heteronormativity dictates that sex is biological and finds expression in the binary categories of male and female. According to Suppes, Van der Toorn and Begeny (2021) in a research study aimed at determining how the relationship between openness about sexual minority status fosters queer identity importance, community integration, and perception of discrimination, found that the pervasiveness of intolerance results in some queer-identifying people’s not being open about their queer identity in an effort to minimise personal experiences with discrimination and to shield themselves from harmful consequences. In expressing our queer identity, we risk homophobic people acting out their fantasies of annihilating us from their heteronormative world. Though concealing one’s queer identity may seem publicly and
socially beneficial, the reality is that it is cognitively exhausting to conceal information from others, especially when it relates to the essence of your being (Suppes et al.., 2021). As a result, queer-identifying people are more likely than their heterosexual cisgendered counterparts to suffer from anxiety and depression (Suppes et al.., 2021). Interestingly the findings of Suppes et al.. (2021) encourage us to consider the need for community and its mental health benefits, noting that queer-identifying persons who have a community consider their queer identity to be more important than their concept of self, which helps them feel more integrated in a broad queer community. Fully expressing one’s queer identity means that one is likely to have access to a vibrant community, but this does expose one to discrimination and hostility because this community does not exist in a vacuum, but in a violent heteropatriarchal context. Communities of physical bodies that express their queer-identity have an expressive dimension that cannot be reduced to speech, and West et al.. (2016: 5) suggest that the gathering of these bodies together says something without relying on speech, stating that:
‘When negotiating embodied identity and negating the heteronormative insistence on
‘correction’ through culture-validated violence, the multiple intersecting axes of oppression need to be taken into consideration. When considering and engaging the embodied realities of, for example, black lesbian women within the South African township context, the constellation of factors represented in axes of identity, such as race, class, gender, sexuality, and socio-economic realities, need to be engaged at the complex point of intersection.’
It is important to consider an embodied queer community as coming out is not necessarily a declaration of full identity but rather an expression of those parts of ourselves we feel comfortable sharing. It is this expression that is identified by society as unacceptable, leading
to violence because it visibly challenges the heteropatriarchal norms. Queer pride directly challenges the narrative that queer-identifying people are sinful and therefore shameful and brings out queer-identifying people into confrontations with the church14.