Unmasking (and countering) the anti-gender "family protection" propaganda
Three narrative approaches to countering the dangerous "family protection" anti-LGBTQ narrative in our social justice discourses.
Over the past decade or so, we have witnessed several African legislators invoke the language of “protection” when seeking to criminalize individuals whose sexual orientation and gender identity they deemed objectionable and labelled as "dangerous."
This "protectionist" framing is exemplified by Kenya's proposed anti-homosexuality bill (which was never published), known as the "Family Protection Bill."
There is a reason why such framing works.
The language of protection is simple, accessible, and universally appealing. In a world filled with reasons to be afraid; a world plagued by numerous threats to health and life, it is reasonable to align with any idea that seeks to "protect" humanity. Everyone desires protection from harm. Whether or not you believe in voodoo magic, you would still prefer protection from curses to the alternative.
This week's post focuses on this increasingly popular "family protection" language. My goal is to help us understand why the "protection" narrative is problematic, how anti-rights groups weaponize it, and how we may (en)counter it with the more helpful and dignifying narrative of safeguarding the rights of all human beings.
A Problematic Protection
Protectionist narratives often sound well-meaning, but they are almost always problematic when applied to social groups and institutions. Notably, conservative groups rarely apply the "protection" narrative to the universal individual. They prefer to apply it to specific groups and institutions (like family) that they believe need protection from external corruption; or to ideas like religious liberty.
How "family protection laws" are framed often illustrates this point. While seemingly intended to safeguard the well-being of families, such laws (proposed in Kenya, nearly enacted in Ghana, and enacted in Uganda) are often deliberately designed to:
Exclude non-traditional family structures: By narrowly defining "family," these laws deny rights and recognition to single-parent families, same-sex parented families, and other diverse family forms.
Reinforce traditional gender roles: Some "family protection" rhetoric may implicitly or explicitly support traditional roles (patriarchy) for men and women, potentially limiting the autonomy and opportunities of individual family members.
Discriminate against LGBTQ+ individuals: Laws framed as protecting the family unit are often used to oppose LGBTQ+ rights, portraying same-sex relationships or gender identity as threats to the traditional family structure. This can manifest in denying marriage equality, adoption rights, or even general protection from discrimination.
These laws consistently fail to acknowledge that any threat against an individual member of the family is, by definition, a threat to the family. Therefore, any law that protects the rights, dignity, health, and well-being of individual members of the family necessarily protects the family. The constitution is, in essence, a family protection law. The drafters of these laws never mention this because it would undermine their agenda.
How Anti-Rights Groups Weaponize the "Protection" Narrative
Their agenda is to exclude and demonize a segment of the population, such as queer people, and they will exploit every appealing narrative to achieve it. The use of "protection" language against a minority group cues the audience to view those on the other side of "protection" as less worthy of rights and dignity, subhuman.
If these groups truly cared about protecting African culture, they would address, for instance, anti-Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) laws. Anti-FGM laws directly target African cultural practices. If these "culture warriors" genuinely cared about African cultures and values, they would be in court attempting to overturn such laws, rather than in parliament legislating hate.
Another notable trait of these groups is that their narrative consistently focuses on whom we need protection from, rather than who we are protecting.
Even the Ghanaian bill is blatant in its assertion that: "This Act applies to a person who holds out as: 'lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, transsexual, pansexual,... or ally.'" It is a bold declaration that this is about eradicating a section of human society by any means necessary, including weaponizing revered institutions like the church and the family.
The narrative of "family protection" is a narrative of exclusion. It emphasizes who is kept out rather than who is included or safeguarded. It dehumanizes those outside the perceived borders. It could even be argued that this "protection" narrative is a subversion of protection; because it seeks to erase the constitutional, social, and religious protections of minority groups because we fear them, hate them, and don't want to acknowledge their existence or honor their humanity.
Encountering and Countering "Protection" Narratives
The reason why we have anti-FGM laws today should be the same reason why any law that legitimately claims to protect the family should exist: the protection of individual members of a family or a culture comes before the protection of the "institution" of family or culture. Protecting the family is not about protecting harmful beliefs about the family at the expense of the health, dignity, and life of some family members.
Countering protectionist narratives in social justice, therefore, requires careful communication that addresses any real underlying fears and anxieties while promoting inclusivity, empathy, and a shared vision of justice for all.
I recommend the following responses:
1. Always Focus on Core Human Dignity
Frame human rights and social justice as inherent to all individuals, regardless of their background, identity, or perceived group affiliation. Let us emphasize our shared humanity, common aspirations, and interconnectedness. Before addressing the diversity of families, spend more time on the diversity of human beings who make up the families of the world. Use the stories of these diverse individuals, even those within "traditional family structures," to highlight the fact that "they belong" simply because they exist.
2. Debunk the "Threat" Narrative
The use of the word "protection" is often a rhetorical sleight-of-hand to evoke the idea of "threats" and "danger" even when the audience can barely articulate what is dangerous about those threats. We must directly and specifically address the false or exaggerated claims used to portray minority groups as threats. Let's present factual information and counter-stereotypical narratives. Just as anti-LGBTQ groups will leverage one "personal testimony" to challenge claims based on rigorous academic research, let us also use compelling personal testimonies that defy stereotypes about minority groups. Let them, for once, get bogged down in trying to disprove anecdotal evidence with research. We must continuously share personal stories and experiences of individuals from marginalized groups to break down dehumanization and foster empathy. Let us show our resilience, common struggles, and shared humanity.
3. Reframe "Protection" as "Safeguarding Rights and Well-Being for All" (Including Opponents):
Shift the conversation by shifting the language. Let us consciously move away from exclusionary "protectionism" towards the inclusive language of "safeguarding," "ensuring rights," "promoting well-being," and "building a just society for all." Relentlessly keep the individual at the heart of the conversation, especially when it attempts to get lost in ideal "family structures" with little focus on lived realities. Broaden the scope of "protection" by individualizing it. Let us repeatedly argue that true protection lies in upholding the rights and dignity of every individual, not in shielding one group at the expense of others. Share stories of shared struggle and resilience. Highlight instances where different groups, including minority groups, came together in solidarity to overcome injustice. The 2024 Gen Z protests against predatory taxation in Kenya are a good example.
--
I long for a world where queer people will not need an adjective before their name to remind us of their existence. A world where a queer person will not need to be a default activist because their existence will no longer be suspected, judged or threatened. Just as it is now unimaginable in many societies to presume that a woman is a witch simply because she questions patriarchy (though that has not stopped many from labeling feminists witches), I envision a future where we will look back with painful collective regret at the stakes upon which we burned queer people. We will hug our queer children a little tighter because we know they have a safe "today"; and they will no longer worry about loving the "wrong" person, walking the wrong street, or merely existing in a world that needs "protection" from them.
We will live in a world that will no longer have “queer” people, because all of us will be just that – people.