Muslims and Queer Folks, Together in Texas

Solidarity works, y’all

by ANDREW DOBBS

Every odd-numbered year the Texas legislature convenes and Muslims from across the state come together early in the session for an advocacy day at the state capitol.

For years the event was no more controversial than lobby days for optometrists or Jaycees. But in 2015 a far-right state representative and disruptive protesters decided to intimidate citizens petitioning their elected officials. Images of an angry white woman yanking the microphone out of a Muslim community leaders’ hands at their press conference and screaming made national news.

In the two years since then things have gotten much worse for Muslims in Texas and around the country. Armed fascist protesters have demonstrated at mosques around the state. Shortly before this year’s advocacy day two mosques — one under construction outside Austin and another in the south Texas city of Victoria — were burned down. Investigator suspect arson in both cases.

All this, of course, took place in the context of Trump’s fulfilled campaign promise to ban Muslims from entering the country — from seven countries at least. There was reason to fear that Texas Muslim Capitol Day would be much worse for the civic-minded faithful that dared to come to speak with their lawmakers.

But Muslim Solidarity ATX wasn’t about to let that happen.

“We were seeing all these things — the graffiti and hate — and I thought here’s a chance to show that solidarity back to the Muslim community,” Matt Korn, one of Muslim Solidarity ATX’s founders told me over coffee about a week after the Jan. 31, 2017 event.

One of his co-founders, Josh Frey, went on. “The other thing besides Trump that’s happening right now is all the resistance.”

And resist Austin did. That morning as many as 2,000 non-Muslims came to the capitol grounds to form an enormous human shield around the group’s press event, peacefully blocking them from the counter protesters. For the second time in a row Muslim Capitol Day made national news — last time for hate, this time for solidarity.

“I love the segment Rachel Maddow did on the human chain we did,” Korn said proudly. “It was an almost 15-minute segment on the backlash against Muslims, but also how there’s another story, all this solidarity that included our action.”

Muslim Solidarity ATX is a new collective, formed immediately after Trump’s election, but its roots began earlier when Korn and Frey— who are boyfriends — connected with Muslim religious and community leaders in the aftermath of the Pulse shooting in Orlando.

This bears a second mention — two gay men founded a Muslim solidarity organization protecting mosques and helping Muslims advocate for better community protections. “I never thought I’d be organizing an interfaith vigil — it’s not my general M.O. — but that’s what it ended up being and it was really powerful,” Korn said.

They wanted Muslim leaders in Orlando to tamp down any possible Islamophobia in the local queer community, and Muslims answered the call. “I was flooded with responses … We got more immediate and enthusiastic support from Muslim organizations and people than any other, it was really striking.”

To say that Korn and Frey are out and proud is an understatement — they are gay from a distance and deeply involved in Austin’s radical queer scene. They were instrumental parts of the city’s anti-capitalist Pride-alternative Queerbomb and Korn has been organizing for at least 15 years.

I’ve known him since I first moved to Austin after I graduated high school. Yet despite this unabashed queerness and Left wing politics they have found close and grateful allies in Austin’s Muslim faithful.

“I’ve heard from Muslim activist friends that us starting this has started a conversation within the Muslim community in Austin about queer issues that wasn’t happening before,” Korn said. “I think every Muslim we’ve worked with personally — and it’s dozens and dozens — have known we’re queer and it’s not a problem.”