Zoryan Kis was sitting on a bench in the centre of Kiev with his boyfriend on his lap when a group of teenagers came up to them, asked if they were “patriots” and doused them in pepper spray.
Friends rushed to help but the reaction to their public display of affection was clear – they were not welcome.
Kis and his partner, both LGBT activists, had decided to stage the moment to test how far Ukrainian attitudes towards the gay community had come since the historic Euromaidan protests of 2014.
With the subsequent ousting of pro-Russian president Viktor Yanukovych – who was known to court president Vladimir Putin’s favour by emulating his infamous “anti-gay laws” – the LGBT community was optimistic that attitudes would change.
However, two years on many have since found that persecution and prejudice continues, and that the freedoms called for by the protesters in Kiev’s independence square have been unevenly applied in post-revolution Ukraine – particularly when it comes to sexuality.
In the western city of Lviv local authorities announced earlier this month they could not protect a festival organised by an LGBT organisation, allowing the hotel where the event was about to take place to become surrounded by far-right activists in masks shouting “kill, kill, kill”. The organisers were forced to cancel the event and leave the city over fears for their safety.
The Maidan narrative
“The situation can lean either way,” says Kis, explaining that with the Maidan protests now playing a key part in the narrative of the “new Ukraine” the LGBT community – despite being on the frontlines of the unrest – has struggled to find its place.
He says this is partly because pro-Kremlin media was attempting to portray the pro-EU protests two years ago as a tantrum by LGBT people yearning to join “Gayropa”. His fellow activists decided not give them further ammunition by flying the rainbow flag.
Today, Kis is not sure if that was the right decision. With images of the “heroes of the heavenly hundred” – the protesters who were killed during the uprising – displayed in squares and schools across the country, many in the LGBT community now feel they have been written out of the story.
“What we hear from our opponents is ‘you were not there at the Maidan first’,” says Kis, an implicit question about whether the LGBT community is “really Ukrainian”, he adds.
But for many protesters like Kis, gay rights were at the heart of Euromaidan. Members of the gay community turned out alongside thousands of other Ukrainians because they wanted changes to democracy and improvements to human rights legislation – which they hoped closer association with Europe would bring.
“For me Ukraine not signing the Association Agreement [under Yanukovych] also meant that it would become part of the so-called Russian world. One of the values of the so-called Russian world is state sponsored homophobia,” says Kis.
Change?
The new pro-European government under Petro Poroshenko went on to sign the Association agreement leading to small improvement on the issue of gay rights, Kis says.
In November the government passed an amendment to the labour code making it illegal to fire someone on the basis of their sexuality. Ukraine also hosted its second ever LGBT march, which despite being attacked by far right activists was also successfully protected by the country’s police force.
Support from countries such as Germany, Poland and Sweden has been essential for most reforms in post-revolutionary Ukraine, but the difference between the popular anti-corruption measures and improvements to LGBT rights is that the former have strong local support.
The labour code amendment was a prerequisite for visa free travel in the EU, and last summer’s march might not have taken taken place if western organisations had not put pressure on the reluctant police force to protect it.
Recent polls also suggest attitudes amongst Ukrainains are yet to shift. A recent study conducted by the Kiev International Institute of Sociology found that just 4.3% of Ukrainians hold “a positive view” of gay people, with 45.2% believing there should be restrictions on gay people’s rights down from 49% in 2011.
But in spite of this, Kis says he has hope in his society’s capacity for change. He recalls a moment from the Maidan that fuels this optimism. After LGBT activists decided not to demonstrate under their own banners, far-right protestors infiltrated the square waving rainbow flags to stoke unrest. Instead of falling for it, a member of the Maidan self-defence forces shouted as the group came closer: “Everyone keep calm! I know the Ukrainian gays are not part of [this] and this is pro-Russian bullshit.”
“I think it was the first time I’d heard ‘Ukrainian’ and ‘gay’ in one sentence,” Kis says. “It was a sign to me that Ukrainian identity can embrace also gay Ukrainians.”
A version of this article first appeared on Coda Story. You can read more from their investigation into the new east’s LGBT crisis here, or follow them on Twitter
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