Jerusalem gay pride: what do the locals think?

The annual gay pride parade in Jerusalem is once again hitting the headlines, with Thursday's event reigniting the fierce debate over whether the LGBT community should be allowed to hold such an event in such a city. The violence that plagued the parade in the capital five years ago, when an Orthodox Jew stabbed three people, still resonates, but have attitudes evolved in the past half-decade?

Jacob, a 22-year-old from Chicago who defines himself as "fairly religious," has lived in Jerusalem for three years, and says his American upbringing has given him a more open-minded approach to homosexuality.

	A gay pride flag emblazoned with the Star of David, at the Pride Parade in Jerusalem in June 2009.
	Photo by: Tess Scheflan / JINI

“I think the Torah is very clear on the ideal, that sexuality should be confined to the marriage unit. But growing up in the States, the culture was a lot more open about homosexuality, and so maybe I wouldn't be as disgusted by two men kissing, although it would be weird.”

“A lot of the function of the Anglo-Israeli ability to be more open-minded comes from growing up in a country where 'live and let live' is a lot easier,” he continues. “There is that whole, ‘I don't care what goes on in your house, just stay out of mine’. As a result I think a lot of Anglo-Israelis are okay with just looking the other way.”

Aaron, a 25 year-old ultra-Orthodox Yeshiva student, echoes this opinion. He moved to Jerusalem from London five years ago, and is now married with children. “For those of us coming from countries where homosexuality is more accepted, where it's actually frowned upon if you don't accept it, we automatically think we should accept it in people, even though we believe that it is wrong.”

Most Anglo-Israelis in Jerusalem tend to hold that no matter their personal feelings about homosexuality, the religious perspective is ultimately more important. The Torah’s clear pronouncements on the act of homosexual sex, ‘Thou shalt not lie with mankind as with womankind; it is an abomination’, tends to be viewed as a condemnation of anyone unwilling to fight their urge to engage in such an act. Same sex activity comes under the category of ‘die rather than transgress’ for most Orthodox Jews.

“In all honesty I have nothing against gay people,” says Saul, a 27-year-old Israeli originally from New York. “I don't think it's an issue to be gay. But to have tendencies or desires towards men, that’s obviously something you have to work on if you want to be a religious Jew. The way I see it is that it's an unnatural thing, but that's based on my beliefs as a religious person.”

“Everybody has their own test in life,” agrees 30-year-old Isaac. “Homosexuality is a test to overcome. Nobody is perfect. You could be a Jewish religious person and be homosexual, but you have to understand that it is not permitted according to Jewish law.”

As the converging point for three of the world’s largest faiths, however, and the capital of Israel, religious beliefs and secular civil rights demands inevitably collide. A former Jerusalem mayor, the ultra-Orthodox Uri Lupolianski, clashed regularly with the gay and lesbian community, forcing them to hold the 2004 Pride Parade under the banner of "World Sports Day" in 2004.

Avi and Binyamin have first hand experience with all of this. They were the first gay couple to be registered as married in Jerusalem, following an order from the Supreme Court in January 2007. This came in the wake of the case of five other gay couples, all of whom had married abroad, being recognized as married in Israel by the Supreme Court in November 2006.

“I was in the middle of completing Ulpan [Hebrew classes] in Jerusalem at the time,” laughs Binyamin, “so it was like, well, now I’m truly out. I didn’t quite bargain for that. People stopped talking to me; it was like being a school kid all over again - except less accepting.”

Since then, Binyamin’s experiences of Jerusalem have been mixed. “When you go for job interviews, or meet people, they always ask, ‘Are you married? What does she do? How many children do you have?’ And of course I reply, ‘I am married. He’s a teacher and a jewish educator, and we're planning on having children.’ Already, even for some secular people, it comes as a real shock. I guess because I don’t fit within any box, it can be very difficult for people to know how to cope with me.”

“But there were also places where I didn’t expect to feel very welcome, and did. After the news [of our marriage], some people would come up to us and say mazel tov, how wonderful... really it shows the complexity of the society here in Jerusalem.”

Gal, who defines herself as a liberal Jerusalemite, says she is utterly supportive of whatever people want to do in their personal lives. She goes out, has gay friends, and doesn’t always keep Shabbat.

“Still, I struggle with regards to having gay marriage allowed in Israel,” she says, frowning. “I don’t have anything personal against it, but I feel really strongly about keeping Israel a Jewish state, and I'm personally willing to sacrifice some elements of democracy and some of my social beliefs for that. Having a Jewish state here is that important to me.”

Marriage is not the only aspect of gay rights on which self-declared anglo-Israeli liberalism seems to err. The Pride Parade, still seen by most as unnecessary and provocative, remains highly controversial.

“Should we parade our adulteries?” Aaron asks before shrugging and looking away. “From a religious stand point it's the same thing as homosexuality, so to parade it is kind of like spitting in our face. What are they trying to prove?”

Isaac agrees: “I think they are trying to cause trouble and draw attention to themselves, that's my problem with the gay community in Israel. They have the right, but why would they want to do it in such a religious city?”

For Binyamin, however, the Pride Parade is important exactly because of this kind of views. “Here it’s not so much a pride parade as a political protest. It’s the capital city, we have our government here, so it’s really essential to have something like a demonstration, with all of the diverse people that come to it.”

“It’s not just gays and lesbians who come, but also straight secular people, and religious people who see it as part of their religious obligation to protect the needs of the minority. We are protesting for diversity. If you talk about the Gay/Queer community, you open up the door to talking about anything other than 'heteronormativity,' and I think that is really important in Israel.”

As a traditional-conservative Jew, who consciously keeps Kashrut and Shabbat, Binyamin has problems with the social binary of being either religious and traditional, or secular and liberal.

“I’m really glad I grew up in England in that respect. It shows you how possible it is to live in a really healthy and accepting Jewish community. Sometimes it’s really startling to see people, particularly people who have immigrated here, hold such racist and homophobic views."

Nonetheless, Yonatan Gher, director of the organization behind the Pride Parade, the Jerusalem Open House for Pride and Tolerance, is optimistic. “There is a better understanding than in previous years,” he insists. “There is an increased understanding that homosexuality is not just about sex.”

The most common thing he hears from people about gay rights is that homosexuals can do what they want behind closed doors, so long as it’s not in their face. “But actually the solitude of the bedroom is the only time when we are not being oppressed,” he explains.

All gay couples really want, Gher says, is to be able to walk down the street with the person they love, in the city they love, just like every other Israeli.