Indeed, being an Arab today means you need to master the art of denial. It means deliberately confusing the lethal herd syndrome affecting most people with a false notion of virtue, allegedly protecting you against the glaring truth, against your human nature, against your critical judgment, against your individuality, i.e. against yourself.

When I started a literary magazine that specialized in the arts and literature of the body in Arabic in 2008, I encountered the same violent reactions and accusations being hurled at Mr. Yahya. You see, even in so-called progressive Lebanon, sex is still a taboo. It is equivalent to shame, something not to do, except if you’re doing it in secret, or have a special permit called a marriage license. As for gay sex, it is the ultimate transgression. Never mind that Abu Nawas, one of the greatest Arab poets of all times, had written, back in the eighth and ninth centuries, countless erotic poems about his gay sexual encounters.

This may come as a surprise but Abu Nawas is but one author contributing to the rich tradition of erotic Arabic texts that go back centuries. Many mention the Kamasutra as an absolute reference in matters of sexual manuals, but that handbook is tame compared with Arabic works like “Perfumed Garden of Sensual Delight” by Sheikh Muhammad Nafzawi (circa A.D. 1410) and “The Sexual Reinvigoration of an Old Man” by Ahmad bin Suleyman (circa 1534) and the guidebook on sexual pleasure for married couples often attributed to Imam Jalal Al Din Al Suyuti (circa 1480). Probably no language is richer than Arabic in sexual vocabulary, and probably no language, nonsensically, has become more resistant to it.

And things are getting only worse. This is not the first time that Mr. Yahya has written about sex. As he told NPR, “For me, as a writer, I always thought there was much space to write, to think, in Palestine and in Ramallah, especially.” The West Bank is largely secular and book banning there is practically unheard of. So what has changed?