Gender and consent: trans is not a deception

Conservatives have made their peace with gay marriage, but trans issues remain beyond their grasp.

This month, right-wing Italian MP and Berlusconi groupie Michaela Biancofiore hit the headlines with a ministerial career that was short, even by Italian standards. Appointed on a Friday, critics took instant exception to a junior equalities minister who opposed gay marriage, refused to make physical contact with a lesbian and suggested that “anyone who goes with a trans has serious issues of sexual identity”.

A spirited rearguard action, in which she accused “gays” of “ghettoising themselves”, only confirmed her unsuitability. She was dismissed in time for the Sunday breakfast news.

That, of course, is Italy and nothing like the UK, where a right-of-centre administration is presently preening itself on its recent equalities achievements. On Wednesday morning, the LGB community was, mostly, celebrating the fact that gay marriage – Lords permitting – was now several steps closer to reality. A few diehards, Peter Tatchell amongst them, bemoaned the fact that civil partnership had not been opened up to all. Mostly the mood was positive.

Not so in the trans community, which sat and watched in utter despair as junior equalities minister Helen Grant swatted away amendments designed to sort out problems facing trans individuals in, or seeking to be in, a state-sanctioned married relationship.

Historically, the gender-reassigned trans person has faced three serious obstacles to a happy married life. To begin with, if already married, the holy grail of a gender recognition certificate (GRC) – which adjusts birth certificate to an individual’s actual gender identity – was beyond their reach. Divorce first – and then jump through a series of bureaucratic hurdles to “prove” to a disbelieving state that one really, really is the gender one claims.

That has proven heart-breaking for many. Hold on to a marriage into which you have invested a great deal of love and life: or let go, possibly replacing it with a civil partnership. Except there has always been a second obstacle, which is that “survivor’s benefits” – the bit of pension that a spouse would get if they survived you into old age – would be counted only from the date of the NEW civil partnership. Potentially, that single piece of paper could cost your partner tens of thousands of pounds in pension.

Thankfully, that particular iniquity is gone. You may now continue in your marriage, which will seamlessly translate from opposite to same sex on acquisition of the GRC. Before obtaining your GRC, however, you must show that your partner actively consents to it. Not that they are aware, or have been informed: but that they consent. This is a seriously odd requirement, seeing as how their consent has not previously been required for other changes, including name, hormones, or surgery. Or even a second mortgage on the home!

Its been a while since one partner to a marriage was required to ask their spouse’s permission for significant decisions: decades since women were forced, humiliatingly, to go cap in hand to husband for such permission. Basic equality, it seems, is not for the trans spouse.

Meanwhile, the government has held on to an even stranger anomaly. It's offensive, and, in conjunction with other recent legal developments may yet end up killing someone. No matter!

A marriage is voidable on the grounds that either party did not validly consent to it, “whether in consequence of duress, mistake, unsoundness of mind or otherwise”. That’s fair, and covers most eventualities – including the possibility that one party was trans and had not mentioned that fact to the other.

Should they? In practice, that’s an issue that rarely arises. In a close relationship, gender history, along with fertility, religion and views on having children is discussed, is disclosed. Times, however, are changing. Some men, some women of trans history are now transitioning very early. They assert their gender as young as five or six, will never undergo a puberty reflecting their birth gender: by the time they are “of marriageable age”, they will have spent three-quarters of their life living the gender they understand themselves to be.

Should they really be obliged, by law, to disclose? Particularly when no similar obligation is imposed on those who just happen not to have mentioned a past that includes any number of crimes – from child abuse to rape to murder.

Definitely odd. Doubly odd, that marriage law should contain a special clause identifying just one ground for voiding a marriage, over and above any other possible ground. Can you guess? Yes: its non-disclosure of a GRC. And while that might have made sense in an era when same sex marriage was verboten, once this new legislation passes, it ceases to.

Could this get people killed? Not exactly: but it sits uneasily alongside recent police and CPS decisions to prosecute trans persons for not disclosing birth gender when it comes to having intimate relations. Let’s remind ourselves of the fundamental message here: it is OK not to disclose past criminal status.

Every attempt to force sex offenders and perpetrators of domestic violence to reveal themselves to prospective partners is dogged with squeals from the civil liberties lobby. How could you possibly insist? Do you not trust men?

No comment.

I observe only that an establishment that keeps putting gender history over and above every other issue when it comes to validating intimate consent is sending a message loud and clear: that trans is a form of deception; and deception must be controlled and ultimately punished.

And while junior equalities minister, Helen Grant came nowhere close to the odiousness of Biancofiore in her response to the Commons this week, her failure to understand, her failure to get to grips with current policy suggests a deeper truth: that while Conservatives may have made their peace with the gay community, the world of T remains, for now, a step too far, just a little too “icky” for personal comfort.

A pro-gay marriage demonstration in Trafalgar Square. Photograph: Getty Images

Jane Fae is a feminist writer. She tweets as @JaneFae.

FAYEZ NURELDINE/AFP/Getty Images
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Under pressure at home, Donald Trump will struggle to deliver what Saudi Arabia wants

Above all, the Gulf states want stability. Can this beleaguered US president bring order?

There is a nervous energy around Riyadh. Fresh palm trees line the roads from the airport, punctuated by a wall of American flags and corporate slogans: “Together we prevail.” All the street lights are suddenly working.

The visit of any American president is always a lavish affair in Saudi Arabia, but there is an optimism to this visit that evaded the Obama years and even the recent visits of Theresa May and Angela Merkel.

Yet, there are two distinct parts to this trip – Trump’s first overseas engagement as president – that will determine its success. The first is relatively straightforward. Trump will sign huge defence contracts worth billions of dollars and offer trading opportunities that allow him to maintain his narrative of economic renewal for American businesses.

For the Saudis, too, these deals will fit into their ambitious project – known as Vision 2030 – to expand and diversify their economy away from its current dependence on oil revenues. Both parties are comfortable with this type of corporate and transactional government, enjoying the gaudy pomp and ceremony that comes with the signing of newly minted deals.

The more complicated aspects of the trip relate to its political dimensions. As the Middle East continues to convulse under the most significant turmoil to envelope it since the collapse of the Ottoman Empire, what Gulf leaders desperately want is the re-establishment of order. At its core, that is what will define Donald Trump’s visit to Saudi Arabia – and the Saudis are optimistic.

Their buoyancy is borne of shared regional interests, not least curbing Iranian influence. Ever since the Arab uprisings in 2011, Tehran has asserted itself across the Levant by organising hundreds of proxies to fight on its behalf in Syria and Iraq. Closer to home, too, the Gulf states accuse Iran of fomenting unrest within Shia communities in Saudi Arabia’s eastern provinces, in Bahrain, and in Yemen.

All of this has left the House of Saud feeling especially vulnerable. Having enjoyed an American security umbrella since the 1970s, Obama’s pursuit of the Iran deal left them feeling particularly exposed.

In part at least, this explains some of the Kingdom’s more frantic actions at home and abroad – including the execution of prominent Shia cleric, Sheikh Nimr al-Nimr, and the war in Yemen. Both are really about posturing to Iran: projecting power and demonstrating Saudi resolve.

Trump shares these concerns over Iranian influence, is prepared to look the other way on Saudi Arabia’s war in Yemen, and is deeply opposed to Obama’s nuclear deal. Riyadh believes he will restore the status quo and is encouraged by the direction of travel.

Just last month Trump commissioned a review of the Iran deal while the US Treasury imposed sanctions on two Iranian officials. Saudi Arabia also welcomed Trump’s decision to launch cruise missiles against a Syrian military base last month after Bashar al-Assad used chemical weapons in the town of Khan Sheikhoun.

These measures have been largely tokenistic, but their broader impact has been very significant. The Saudis, and their Gulf partners more generally, feel greatly reassured. This is an American presence in the region that is aligned to their interests, that they know well and can manage.

That is why Gulf states have rushed to embrace the new president ever since he first entered the Oval Office. Saudi Arabia’s deputy crown prince, Mohammed bin Salman (colloquially known simply as “MBS”), already visited him in Washington earlier this year. The Emiratis and others followed shortly afterwards.

A spokesman for Mohammed bin Salman later described the meeting with Trump as an “historical turning point” in relations between the two countries. A White House readout of the meeting baldly stated: “The President and the deputy crown prince noted the importance of confronting Iran's destabilising regional activities.”

Now that Trump is visiting them, the Saudis are hoping to broker an even broader series of engagements between the current administration and the Islamic world. To that end, they are bringing 24 different Muslim leaders to Saudi Arabia for this visit.

This is where Trump’s visit is likely to be fraught because he plans to deliver a major speech about Islam during his visit – a move that has seemingly no positives associated with it.

There is a lot of interest (and bemusement) from ordinary Saudis about what Trump will actually say. Most are willing to look beyond his divisive campaign rhetoric – he did, after all, declare “I think Islam hates us” – and listen to him in Riyadh. But what can he say?

Either he will indulge his audience by describing Islam as a great civilisation, thereby angering much of his political base; or he will stick to the deeply hostile rhetoric of his campaign.

There is, of course, room for an informed, careful, and nuanced speech to be made on the topic, but these are not adjectives commonly associated with Donald Trump. Indeed, the pressure is on.

He will be on the road for nine days at a time when pressure is building over the sacking of the former FBI director James Comey and the ongoing investigation into former national security advisor Michael Flynn’s contacts with Russia.

It is already being reported that Trump is not entirely enthusiastic about such a long overseas programme, but he is committed now. As with almost everything concerning his presidency, this extra pressure adds a wild air of unpredictability to what could happen.

Away from the lucrative deals and glad-handing, this will be the real standard by which to measure the success of Trump’s visit. For a relationship principally defined by its pursuit of stability, whether Trump can deliver what the Gulf really wants remains to be seen.

Shiraz Maher is a contributing writer for the New Statesman and a senior research fellow at King’s College London’s International Centre for the Study of Radicalisation.

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