Draconian new laws have spread unease rather than outright panic in a population that is used to finding ways around legislation
A day after it became legally possible to be stoned to death for having gay sex in Brunei, 21-year-old Zain* got a bitter taste of the new reality.
Walking down the street in skinny jeans and high-heeled boots, a flamboyant anomaly in the conservative sultanate, the university student became a target.
“I saw this van about 50 metres away,” said Zain, who is gay. “When the driver saw me, the van accelerated, just to run me over, but I dodged it. I was like, ‘Bitch, what the hell was that?’”
Last week Brunei – a tiny tropical nation on the island of Borneo, a former British protectorate that is home to 420,000 people – introduced harsh new sharia laws, including death by stoning for adultery and gay sex, and amputation of limbs for theft.
The punishments are part of the third and final phase of sharia laws to be implemented after they were first announced in 2013. Following panic and outcry then, plans for the most grievous penalties had lain seemingly dormant for years. Many had hoped that the government had quietly decided to back down.
But in late December last year a little-read official gazette announced that the laws would be effective as of Wednesday last week.
Decried as inhumane, archaic and barbaric, the new laws have seen Brunei dubbed the Saudi Arabia of south-east Asia, sparked widespread international condemnation and calls from celebrities such as George Clooney and Elton John to boycott hotels owned by sultan of Brunei Hassanal Bolkiah, including the Dorchester in London, and the Beverly Hills Hotel in Los Angeles.
But amid the cacophony of international criticism, in Brunei the laws came into effect with zero official fanfare, or even a passing mention. On Wednesday the lead story in the Borneo Bulletin, Brunei’s main English-language daily newspaper, was about missing fire hydrants – with not a word about the laws.
At a public event the same day, the sultan was similarly oblique, saying only that he advocated “stronger Islamic teaching”. In fact, in the quiet and predictable Bruneian capital, Bandar Seri Begawan, the reception of the new sharia penal code has run counter to international perceptions.
On the ground, young Bruneians say they are less scared of being prosecuted under the new laws than of how they might embolden religious conservatives, and justify acts of hate against them – like strangers trying to run them over in the street, or worse.
Given the absence of reports in the self-censoring local press, Zain heard the news on Twitter. His first thought, he told the Observer, was “oh my God I am going to die, I am going to be stoned to death”.
But after reading the fine print, he and others in Brunei’s underground LGBT scene are sceptical that anyone will actually be stoned. The high burden of proof, requiring a confession, or at least four credible witnesses to a criminalised act, means it won’t be easy to prosecute.
And while capital punishment has long been law in Brunei – although by hanging rather than stoning – no one has been executed since 1957.
“So that’s why I am not really scared about the law, but I am scared about the people,” said Zain. “The implementation gives a lot of conservative people who are very homophobic a lot of power. It is more dangerous for people like me to go out now.”
Other LGBT Bruneians agree the laws will be very difficult to enforce, but that hasn’t stopped them feeling paranoid. Are their neighbours, for example, watching them now?
Many, especially the more visible transgender people, are keeping a low profile, living even more discreetly than they already did.
Rafay, another gay Bruneian man, said: “To me, it makes my life even more complicated. It’s somewhat harder for me to be open when I’m in public.”
Although the draconian measures are in place, in the capital it feels as though little has changed. Days after the law came into effect, no cases had been prosecuted and sharia police were not combing the streets. LGBT Bruneians are in an uneasy state of wait and see. “I might leave Brunei,” said Rafay, “if the situation worsens.”
Some have already made changes to their lifestyles. Ali, a thirtysomething artist, said he would simply stop dating men. “I consider myself bi[sexual], so for me I guess it is just pretty easy – I just cut the other half,” he said. “For me it’s an extra risk I can just cut off. I know that doesn’t apply to most people. If they are gay they can’t just cut off guys, so I am fundamentally opposed to the laws.”
Living in a conservative majority-Muslim society with strict laws already in place – gay sex, for example, has long been illegal – young Bruneians are skilled adapters. The sale of alcohol and cigarettes is banned, but they know where to find contraband sources.
If they want to party they can drive a few hours to the Malaysian border town of Miri, and go clubbing for the night, or take a short flight to neighbouring Kuala Lumpur. And if they do party at home, it’s always best to have a member of the royal family in tow, some half-joke. In Brunei, locals say it’s all about who you know.
“It sucks, but it wasn’t great to begin with. We are very good at adapting, we all learn to have two or three social media accounts,” said Anna, a young professional, of the new laws. “We Bruneians can’t do anything about it, so I don’t know how outside forces can help. It’s more about how we as Bruneians can get through this together.”
Alongside the shock and uncertainty, there is also a feeling of indignation that the international coverage has skewed perceptions of their country that detract from what they see as its attributes – a strong education and healthcare system, and no income tax. Typically proud of their nation, Bruneians also worry about the economic repercussions, even those who identify as LGBT.
The sultan has pushed for sharia law since the 90s, despite the failure of other family members to live up to his standards. His brother Prince Jefri’s flamboyant lifestyle involved a harem of foreign mistresses, erotic sculptures of himself with his fiancee, and a luxury yacht he called Tits.
In a country that bills itself as something of a sanctuary – the full name of the country is Brunei Darussalam, meaning in Arabic “abode of peace” – Bruneians have different answers when asked how it has become a country with draconian sharia law.
Ali’s working theory was that, as rumours swirl that the sultan, 72, is likely to abdicate soon, he was paving the way for his son, the crown prince, to take over. “The laws might give them a reason to crack down on people who are not loyal to the throne, and the people that are not loyal to the throne are usually people who are more liberal and progressive and probably doing all the adultery,” he said. “They are preparing for when the crown prince, who is not popular at all, takes the throne, and then there is going to be a lot more dissent, I think.”
Some Bruneians are hoping that, eventually, all this will fade away. That life will be back to business as usual, soon enough. “I can’t imagine anyone carrying this punishment out. It’s not the Brunei I know, at least not the one I grew up in,” said Anna. “The future isn’t bright, but it isn’t bleak either. We just don’t know what’s going to happen.”
*All names have been changed.
by Kate Lamb in Bandar Seri Begawan
Source – The Guardian
