When Novaya Gazeta published shocking material on anti-gay repression in Chechnya, it was initially disregarded as an April fool by some. However, as the harrowing testimonies of the victims began to surface, the severity of the situation became obvious.

Chechnya is a deeply conservative, patriarchal republic with a strict social code that contains many intricate rules. Women, for instance, are not allowed to discuss pregnancy in front of men – it is indecent. Public displays of intimacy are strictly prohibited, even something as innocent as holding hands.

Restrictions go far beyond husband/wife relationships: a mother is not allowed to be overly affectionate towards her child in the presence of male in-laws, for example.

In the complex hierarchy of social rules and taboos, being gay ranks as the gravest sin, one that can forever stain the reputation of an entire family. The worst way to insult a Chechen man is to call him a woman: it implies he is weak both physically and spiritually and unable to control the situation around him. According to this logic, being gay means that you willingly emasculate yourself.

Hypermasculinity is deeply entrenched in Chechen culture: the ideal man is tough and reserved, he values his honour and fights to the death to defend it. The chilling reality of today’s Chechnya demonstrates the real danger of this. It manifests itself in brute physical force, exercised by macho, heavily armed men, drunk on impunity and their place above the law.

In this kind of environment, being different does not just mean exclusion from the family circle and exile from society, it means that you are a lesser species that ought to be exterminated.

Over the past decade, the Chechen ruler, Ramzan Kadyrov, has attempted to build a certain image of Chechnya, one based on religion, righteousness and total obedience. Being gay in such an environment, even in secret, is a form of indirect rebellion: something Chechen authorities cannot allow to exist.

Not only does it go against official state rhetoric, it threatens powerful men on a very personal level by challenging their habitual notions of masculinity. The violent backlash can partly be explained in this context: the more ferocious the torture and beating, the more those involved can prove to themselves and others they are real men.

Homophobia exists in every country – no matter how advanced – yet it is contained by societal norms and legislative regulations. In Chechnya, which has turned into a strongman’s feudal kingdom, there are no government restrictions or expressions of public discontent, therefore the powerful are free to act upon their homophobic beliefs just because they can.

It was both surreal and terrifying to observe the reaction that followed revelations of anti-gay repression – especially from Chechen men, whether supporters or fervent critics of Kadyrov’s rule. Some were in denial of the issue since, of course, there can be no gay men in Chechnya – they even struggled to write the word “gay”, instead retreating to euphemistic “you-know-whos”.

Many people interpreted the news as a conspiracy, a slander campaign to discredit innocent straight men. It was heartbreaking to watch on social media as men who had themselves suffered the injustices of Kadyrov’s regime responded with such cold aloofness to the suffering of their compatriots.

It is important to realise the impossible situation gay men in Chechnya are trapped in once their sexual orientation is known to the public. They cannot turn to their families or friends for support, and many have nowhere to run. Threatened, beaten, rejected by their society, there is little left for these men, who never had a real chance to explore who they are. They are ostracised even from the ranks of victims.

I did not choose to write this piece simply to portray my homeland as a land of savages and archaic traditions. Chechen society has suffered an enormous trauma over the past two decades. It has not had a chance to properly recover and rebuild itself. Power was appropriated by a violent brute who has suffocated any possibility of change.

The harrowing news sends a clear message to the west – Chechnya is not OK. It may appear polished and modern with its flashy squares and newly built homes but inside these homes live terrified people who do not dare to protest because they have too much to lose: those who dare to speak up are punished – publicly, in front of the TV cameras, or privately, in the bloody cells of secret prisons.

If UK politicians want to prove their devotion to liberal values, they have to extend their hand by providing refuge to those who have nowhere to run. Many LGBTQ organisations have demonstrated their solidarity by protesting, collecting funds and, most importantly, helping to evacuate gay men from Chechnya. I wish the government of this country could learn from them.