Poland's gays accuse their country's sibling leaders of encouraging homophobia to stabilise fragile government coalition and to pander to conservative Polish society
TWENTY-five years ago two identical twins . . .once childhood stars in Poland during the '60s . . .were on the run from the communist regime's secret police. Today Lech and Jaroslaw Kaczynski are president and prime minister of their country and fiercely proud of Poland's feisty role in Europe and its close friendship with the United States.
But the journey they have made from being on the run to running the country has come at an unacceptably high price for many Poles. The country's gay community today feels the cold blast of exclusion just as the twins did 25 years ago.
For gay Poles are under siege, and the situation is rapidly deteriorating. As right-wing youth groups hurl rocks at gay-pride marches under banners proclaiming 'zakaz pedalowania' ('ban paedophilia'), mainstream politicians mutter dark threats of sacking homosexual teachers to protect the nation's children.
For young gay Poles like Dominik Piotrovski, a student from Warsaw, homophobic attacks are on the rise. "In the last few months, homosexuals have become public enemy number one. We are now part of a very targeted group, " he says. Dominik and his boyfriend were recently attacked by a group of skinheads shouting homophobic chants. "I felt like an animal. When you feel like you're being hunted it's a horribly scary experience." His friend Lech Vliasz says the pressure to hide his sexual orientation in public is exhausting. "We're tired of having to pretend we're not gay, " he says.
To be openly gay, even in Poland's cosmopolitan capital Warsaw, has become increasingly fraught with danger. Hidden deep within the warren of narrow back streets that make up Warsaw's pictureperfect Old Town lies Tomba Tomba, one of Warsaw's few gay clubs. Silhouetted against a backdrop of homoerotic murals stand young couples kissing, savouring moments of public intimacy and the brief respite they bring from the increasingly homophobic atmosphere in their country. But whether this sanctuary will remain open is unknown. Tomba Tomba's sister club was shut down by police earlier this year.
It is a sad legacy for a country that legalised homosexuality as early as 1932, years before many of its western European contemporaries, and many point the finger of blame at the Kaczinski twins. Opponents accuse the two brothers of legitimising homophobia through statements critical of gays and also by allying their party, Law and Justice, with politicians from the ultra-nationalist and openly homophobic League of Polish Families.
Although the pair have somewhat toned down their anti-gay rhetoric since sweeping to power in elections last year, the two brothers, known in Poland's gay community as "the terrible twins", have a long history of expressing open hostility towards homosexuality. As mayor of Warsaw, Lech Kaczynski twice banned gay-pride marches telling protestors, "I respect your right to demonstrate as citizens but not as homosexuals." During campaigning for the general elections, Jaroslaw described homosexuality as an "abomination" and has publicly said he would rather gay men and women did not teach. Such sentiments are popular with the devoutly Catholic and traditional rural classes that make up the twins' political power base. According to recent polls, 89% of the Polish population think homosexuality is abnormal.
Gay rights groups, NGOs and many in the teaching profession say they are now suffering from a major homophobic backlash. In June, Poland's state prosecutor was ordered to investigate all gay groups for illegal financing, criminal connections and links to paedophilia. Equating homosexuality with child abuse is now a depressingly common occurrence in Poland. Some politicians speaking in parliament and the media have begun using the word pederasta (pederast) to describe homosexuals.
Malgorzata Sadurska, a member of Law and Justice, rejects accusations that the government is homophobic. "I cannot pretend our party is not in favour of a union based on a man and a woman, " she says in the restaurant of the Polish parliament.
"But our image has been publicised through the prism of President Kaczynski's decision to refuse a gay parade when he was mayor of Warsaw.
Poland is a tolerant country."
But activists accuse the Polish government of legitimising homophobia by inviting the League of Polish Families into its coalition and in particular awarding the party's leader, Roman Giertych, the position of education minister.
Giertych's party has a long history of virulent, verging on violent, opposition to gay rights. During Poland's pride season earlier this summer, the League's deputy said gay-rights activists should be "bludgeoned" if they held any marches. The parades did go ahead, but in response, Giertych led his own self-styled "normality march" in Warsaw.
Pawel Leszkowicz, who writes on gay issues in Poland, says the decision to award Giertych the education ministry encourages ordinary Poles to believe that homophobia is acceptable.
"Poland's far right is now entering into mainstream politics, " he says. "The worst thing about Poland is that politicians in government officially voice homophobia or prejudice towards homosexuals whereas in western Europe most rightwing parties have long abandoned that approach."
Any attempt by teachers to promote sexual equality in schools has been ruthlessly dealt with.
In June, the director of the Polish National Teacher Training Centre was fired from his post for distributing an EU manual encouraging debate over the rights of same-sex couples and promoting sexual tolerance. When the deputy education minister was asked by a Polish newspaper what implications the sacking had for promoting tolerance in Poland he calmly replied: "Oh, the world used to manage without tolerance and it will keep going without it."
The gay-rights debate in Poland has become a crucial, highly-contested part of the wider social and political struggle being played out in the country between the traditionalist, Catholic elements and the more secular, liberal sections of society.
The former are certainly in the majority. It is not uncommon to hear broadcasts, particularly on the highly popular Catholic radio station Radio Marya, voicing the view that homosexuality is a sickness which can and should be cured.
As one of the newest members of the EU, the rising tide of homophobia in Poland and the Kaczynskis' response is being closely watched by Brussels.
The prime minister received a public dressingdown from EU commissioner Jose Manuel Barroso in August, while some have even suggested Poland could have its EU voting rights suspended unless it does more to tackle anti-gay discrimination.
The difficulty for the Kaczynski brothers is that even if they opted for a softer approach to the gayrights debate, their precarious parliamentary majority relies on the support of their more extremist coalition partners, particularly the League of Polish Families.
Such unwillingness to publicly encourage sexual tolerance has serious repercussions for those trying to eradicate homophobia in Poland.
But for young people like Dominik and Lech, the very fact that homophobia is on the rise has turned them into activists and forced them to be more proactive about battling prejudice.
"Now I actually treat my everyday life as a form of activism, " says Dominik. "Whenever I'm in a supermarket I hold my boyfriend's hand and when I walk on the street I do the same."
Lech Vliasz is equally positive that eventually Poland's homophobes will be silenced. "It's like Gandhi said: 'First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win.' So in that case we're very close to winning."
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