Can Indian party politics make room for LGBTQ+ representation beyond tokenism?

While promises and policies in favour of the LGBTQ+ community are made by political parties aplenty, for queer individuals to integrate themselves into Indian politics is not without its challenges

For aeons, LGBTQ+ rights activists have initiated movements to highlight issues that plague Indian democracy. However, demanding political rights is one thing and securing them is another. Occupying decision-making positions was a logical next step, but making inroads into such spaces hasn’t been easy, particularly when it comes to joining party politics. 

Priya Patil’s journey is a case in point. After being disowned by her family, she found refuge in Mumbai’s transgender community in 2001. Going from pillar to post to be heard, she figured it was time to enter policy-making organisations to bring about change. Patil credits her association with Mumbai-based Kinnar Maa Trust, an organisation that supports the transgender community, right from securing legal rights to providing healthcare and livelihood opportunities and even gathering data to aid research. At the trust, Patil is a program manager, a role that instilled in her the belief that she could be a leader.

Take us seriously as political leaders 

In 2017, Patil was part of a panel on trans women’s menstrual hygiene. It was where she was introduced to Member of Parliament Supriya Sule, who encouraged her to join what was then the undivided Nationalist Congress Party (NCP). But Patil got on board with the idea only after assessing for herself how accepting the political party was towards a trans person, and if her involvement would entail more than the image-enhancement exercise that inclusion of queer people in politics often signals. In 2019, she accepted the position of Maharashtra Secretary, and in 2020, she helped form the LGBTQ Cell at the Nationalist Congress Party – Sharadchandra Pawar (NCP-SP) party. Currently, she serves as its Maharashtra President. 

“Whenever I used to go to rural areas [in Maharashtra] for outreach, people would come to me for blessings,” says Patil, describing the change she has witnessed during her tenure in politics. “They didn’t disrespect me, but didn’t take me seriously as a political leader either. While we can see that changing, we must go beyond representation. We must equip people with enough responsibilities to be considered a leader in the eyes of the people.” 

Patil believes it’s of no use to pit one particular ideology against the other. “If we’re fighting for a common goal, then we must come together to achieve it.” Hinting at the rise of a parallel queer political front, she says: “Call it Bhaarat or India or whatever you like, but is it inclusive for all? Is there livelihood and work for all? How much progress have we made ever since Section 377 was decriminalised in 2018? Nothing except Pride parades. There’s cyberbullying and crimes of all sorts, queer people are dying by suicide, and many are still being victimised by conversion therapy. These are the kinds of conversations we must have.” 

We must have a diverse set of representatives 

Secretary of the not-for-profit All Manipur Nupi Maanbi Association (AMaNA) Santa Khurai finds queer people’s entry into party politics welcoming “as it allows us to directly take part in shaping the narrative of a democratic system.” But the author of The Yellow Sparrow: Memoir of a Transgender (Speaking Tiger, 2023)—a book highlighting the discrimination Khurai faced as a trans woman in Manipur and her subsequent determination to find solidarity in a conflict-ridden state—which was translated from Manipuri by Rubani Yumkhaibam, also feels that “there should be people representatives from across the nation in politics. By cherry-picking representatives, we will end up replicating the same hierarchical, feudal system that gives no equity…Now is the time we should emphasise leadership, not representation. Decades ago, representation worked for national mobilisation but somehow failed to acknowledge and include people of diverse backgrounds.”

Citing an example, Khurai says, “As long as there’s Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act (AFSPA)—and we don’t put in efforts to understand pre-merger Manipur to be incorporated in the constitutional law to help provide a certain level of leverages to have state autonomy—queer people’s entry in politics is not going to serve the community in the northeast region, and Manipur in particular, any good.” 

Is LGBTQ+ representation in politics the surest way to seek justice? 

Growing up, queer historian, activist, and the India Head of the newly-formed LGBTQIA+ Vertical, All India Professionals’ Congress (AIPC), Mumbai-based Mario da Penha “had heard of Shabnam Mausi, the first trans woman Member of Legislative Assembly (MLA), Madhya Pradesh, in 1998. Her election was a win for queer representation, but there were no other queer people in power until Madhu Bai became the first trans woman mayor of Raigarh, Chhattisgarh, in 2015. More recently, political parties have begun appointing queer people in positions of authority within their organisations. I only see such representation increasing in the coming years, as it becomes clear to the community that political activism is the surest way to ensure lasting justice.”  

According to da Penha, queer people “stand at an important crossroads within queer activism in India. At a time when the courts have indicated that there are limits to demanding big-ticket queer reforms via judicial intervention, the queer community must turn to political activism for justice. For this, we need to shake off our ingrained apathy towards participating in political life. We must join political parties and use their frameworks to have a conversation about our rights. For example, the Congress, in its latest election manifesto [in 2024], has promised civil unions and non-discrimination towards [queer people]. I believe the party can go further, but only if more of us get on board and work within its structures to bring about lasting change.” 

Tapping on the ‘non-Left’ spaces 

“To reach out to the people who were not approached by queer people”, LGBT rights activist and Diversity, Equity and Inclusion (DEI) consultant Ankit Bhuptani founded the Queer Hindu Alliance in Mumbai. According to him, the organisation “connects the dots between LGBT rights and Hinduism, using faith as a tool of advocacy to find more acceptance for queer people within Hinduism.” He feels that “civilisational identity of queerness [in India] has been there for millennia, so being queer is not a radical idea; it isn’t something new. Though the idea of LGBT rights, as we understand it today, is definitely new, has come from the West.”

Bhuptani doesn’t consider himself a “radical” unlike other queer people because “it’s a violent word”. Believing in “conversation, not confrontation”, he says that “for the longest time, queer people in India and around the world have always been good friends with the Left. But at the same time, to make a blanket statement that all queer people are politically Left-leaning would be wrong. We need to work at all levels within and across the political spectrum, so I felt it’d be great for me to use what I call the ‘non-Left’ space and reach out to them. That has been my approach towards queer rights. I don’t practise rage but reasoning.”

Queer representation matters in an evolving Indian democracy 

Anish Gawande, who was recently appointed the spokesperson by the NCP (SP), notes: “Indian voters for the longest time have been much more progressive than the political parties.” He cites Shabnam Mausi’s win as an incredible feat but laments on the fact that how things turned out only goes on to demonstrate “how ill-equipped political parties are with newer forms of diversity. It’s unfortunate.”

According to Gawande, “Inclusion of queer people in party politics was long overdue. The queer rights movement in India has transformed itself from a sociolegal to a sociopolitical one, and it’s only logical to assert ourselves and ensure a sustainable flow of granting of rights by entering politics. We don’t want to keep knocking on the doors of the courts.” 

Being a party figure, however, also comes with its own set of challenges. While Gawande is all in for criticism, as it’s a small price to pay “for the power and privilege being in politics” offers, there’s something slightly discomforting about “misdirected and malicious” attacks. “It is beneficial to understand the gap between what your expectations can be from a representational figure and what they’re expected to do.” But whatever the case may be, he sees that what’s happening now shows the “maturing phase of Indian democracy”.

Curated by Gaysi Family | Illustration by: Anjali Nair

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