Gay Arab-Israelis struggle as outcasts in two societies Underground drag queen shows serve as the only refuge for some

A 26-year-old Arab-Israeli performance artist dresses as The Bride of Palestine, a popular character at underground Tel Aviv drag shows. The shows draw a few hundred people. A 26-year-old Arab-Israeli performance artist dresses as The Bride of Palestine, a popular character at underground Tel Aviv drag shows. The shows draw a few hundred people. Photo: ANNA BLACKSHAW, MCT Photo: ANNA BLACKSHAW, MCT Image 1 of / 1 Caption Close Gay Arab-Israelis struggle as outcasts in two societies 1 / 1 Back to Gallery

TEL AVIV, ISRAEL — His friends call him "The Bride."

This night, he was standing behind a storefront art-gallery window in a bloodied wedding dress. His face was ghostly, and he was clutching a large rock in his right hand.

A small crowd had gathered on a south Tel Aviv street as The Bride opened his mouth and began to sing — in Arabic. To be more accurate, The Bride was lip-synching the words of a political anthem by one of Lebanon's best-known divas.

"Let the jails' door be destroyed," he sang as bewildered Israelis on dates wandered by. "Let this madness be defeated, and let anyone who betrays us become stones."

The show was a public coming out for "The Bride of Palestine," a 26-year-old performance artist who's one of a new generation of gay Arab-Israelis struggling to define themselves, their sexuality and their political identity.

For most like The Bride, being gay makes them pariahs in their conservative Arab communities. Being proud Palestinians puts them at odds with the dominant Jewish-Israeli society. So they try to take a stand against bigotry in both societies without being firmly rooted in either one.

Forging identities

"My fight," said The Bride, who lives at home with his willfully ignorant Muslim parents, "is through my art."

In an effort to carve out a space for themselves, Palestinian drag queens gather every few months at a club in the heart of Tel Aviv to take part in underground shows. These parties offer a rare forum for them to explore complicated and convoluted ideas about sexuality, politics, nationalism, militancy and religion.

They're forging their identities at the center of what some consider an occupying power. The Palestinian nationalists among them recognize the irony in the fact that Israel has become their sanctuary.

"I didn't choose this place; it's the place that I found I could be myself in," said M, a 24-year-old Arab-Israeli woman with short black hair who's performed at the club. "That's my only refuge."

Suppressed sexuality

In some ways, gays and lesbians such as M are lucky: While homosexuality isn't illegal in the Palestinian Authority, as it is in most surrounding Arab nations, gays and lesbians have virtually no place to express their sexuality in the West Bank or Gaza Strip. Several gay Palestinians have been arrested, beaten by Palestinian Authority intelligence and forced to flee, gay activists said.

For most, though, there's no refuge. While West Bank Palestinians once could sneak into Tel Aviv easily, Israel's construction of a separation barrier between Israelis and Palestinians and tighter restrictions on travel have made that all but impossible.

Artistic expression

The Tel Aviv shows, which draw a few hundred people each night, blend enticing belly-dancing numbers with overtly political performances. Most of the shows have taken place in a central Tel Aviv basement club not far from Israeli military headquarters.

To keep them under the radar, organizers don't advertise the shows. At one show last fall, M. starred as a butch militant in fatigues preparing to leave her lover for a suicide mission.

The piece grew out of the pair's attempts to wrestle with being patriotic Palestinians growing up around Arab-phobic Israelis, and lesbians in a largely homophobic Arab community.

"It's not enough that I'm oppressed as an Arab in Jewish society, I'm oppressed as a queer in Arab society," M. said. "The thing from both sides is difficult, but what is most difficult is to be oppressed by your own community."