‘God in Pink’ by Hasan Namir

Reviewed by Harriet Zaidman

Gay and transgender people have made enormous advances in human rights in recent years. Since the beginning of the twenty-first century more than twenty countries in North America, Europe, South America and Africa have recognized that love knows no gender. In 2005 same-sex marriage became legal in Canada and it was finally legalized both in the US and Ireland in 2015. These legal victories reflect a greater tolerance for diversity and a rejection of discrimination against people for their sexual orientation.

But in about 80 other countries – Nigeria, Somalia, and Russia among them – being gay is either illegal or a reviled cultural taboo, with the consequences ranging from persecution to imprisonment to execution. Religious and political leaders in some countries have amped up their rhetoric in the past few years to justify the cruelest inhumanity and violence. ISIS is reported to have thrown four men to their deaths off a building in Iraq in October last year as their punishment for being gay. In Iran gay people are bullied into sexual reassignment surgery whether they are transgender or not. People live in fear of being found out even by their families, who are often as unsympathetic as the authorities. Some people escape to safer countries, but others hide their true identity by acquiescing to their society’s norms to marry someone of the opposite sex and procreate accordingly.

A number of the refugees from Syria and other war-torn countries are fleeing persecution on the basis of their sexual orientation. But consider that not everyone wants to escape their families or their countries – or, for that matter, they may not want to reject the religious institutions that nevertheless damn them.

That’s the basis for Vancouver writer Hasan Namir’s God in Pink, his debut novel set in war-torn Iraq in 2003. Inspired by Namir’s personal experiences – he grew up in Iraq and moved to Canada in his early childhood – the novel follows two characters: Ramy, a gay university student, and Ammar, a local sheikh. Passages alternate between the two characters’ points of view, with a different font for each. God in Pink is a simply written, thinly disguised “message” book that decries the torment of being different in a rigid society. But the plot is contemporary and it’s intriguing; an unbending adherence to religion is the vehicle by which both characters are changed. It’s interesting for readers to witness how the characters hold dear these ties and to see the cost of keeping them.

Ramy is a closeted gay university student whose parents are dead, his father executed by Saddam Hussein for defending the rights of Shiite Muslims. Dependent upon his pious brother and his wife, Ramy hides his sexual preferences. His brother tells him to choose a wife from a pile of photographs: “Just pick one. It doesn’t really matter who,” his increasingly suspicious brother commands. His sister-in-law advises, “Don’t worry. Marriage will protect you.”

Through a letter Ramy seeks the counsel of Ammar, the local sheikh, on how he can continue being a faithful Muslim yet pursue the relationship with the man he loves. The letter sets off a crisis of faith in Ammar, who stolidly condemns homosexuality before his congregation. Living in a shadow of clerics stretching back to his great-great grandfather, he imposes a strict interpretation of the Qu’ran.

Namir employs the classic battle of good and evil, which occurs in Ammar’s head. The angel Gabriel visits Ammar, advising kindness, tolerance and support as a measure of his faith. But Abaddon, the angel of destruction, bores into his soul. The conflict is wrenching and revelatory, nearly destroying Ammar: “Cold and shivering, I see eyes staring, judging me, mocking, laughing. I stand up from the king’s chair and stumble down the steps.”

Ramy admits he is a coward. When push comes to shove, the fear of losing everything he has tears him apart. Or is he inured to abuse? Would Ramy know what to do without being controlled, without living in fear of his brother and his society?

The physical turmoil in Baghdad adds to the disruption in the characters’ lives, as bombs destroy buildings randomly. Symbolically, the university, the seat of knowledge that could illuminate and rebuild Iraqi culture and society, is under attack.

God in Pink is a take on a complicated issue; what’s clear is that the giant strides gay and transgender men and women have made in some countries are seen in reverse in others. The struggle for gay citizens to achieve equal human rights continues. Earlier this year the Anglican Church suspended the US Episcopal Church for its recognition of gay marriage and put the Canadian branch on notice it may be next.

God in Pink causes us to reflect on the rules we impose on each other. We are all different under the various cloaks we wear, yet we deserve equality and recognition. Every one of Namir’s characters, even those who claim to be satisfied, could achieve personal happiness if they could be who they really are. This novel is part of the larger effort for equality and respect as human beings.

Arsenal Pulp Press | 158 pages | $17.95 | paper | ISBN# 978-1551526065