This uneasiness stems from a deeply rooted and specific
type of fear of “what’s different from us” (xenophobia). Conchita Wurst is
different from most of us because she doesn’t fit into the basic sexual
categories in terms of which we perceive and interpret our world. These
categories are: can we have babies together and perpetuate our DNA (category 1)
or not (category 2)? The combination of a beautiful female appearance with a beard
instantly blurs this basic dividing line thereby causing some uneasiness.
Don’t get me wrong: this doesn’t mean that we perceive
every person, young or old, as a potential partner for sex to start a family. These
are just basic perceptual categories that help our psyche quickly understand the
world around it, just like it spontaneously perceives trees and pianos as
things “my body cannot move” and books and laptops as “things my body can move”.
In other words: there is nothing wrong with or immoral about these perceptual reflexes,
nor with the uneasiness they cause when they don’t “work”.
The problems start when this uneasiness is translated
into homophobic laws. This is the case in some countries
in Eastern Europe, from which come 80
per cent of the autograph requests Conchita receives. These
laws are the official face of homophobia, which is just as gruesome as the unofficial
face of homophobia which I discovered in the French newspapers in April
last year. We will continue to see gruesome faces like this if laws like this
continue to violate the commitment
made by all members of the United Nations to promote and encourage “respect for human rights and for
fundamental freedoms for all without distinction as to race, sex, language, or
religion”.
Conchita confidently
says she has an elephant skin and that for her “everything
happens for a bigger reason”. Whatever its reason may be, her artistic victory
is also a victory of Europe’s open-mindedness. I wish she continues to “Rise Like a Phoenix” for LBGT rights, strengthened
by her positivism and 25 years of life experience she sang about in her winning
autobiographic song:
Waking in the rubble
Walking over glassNeighbors say we’re trouble
Well that time has passed
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