Due to a number of discursive forces, the Arab queer has at the present moment become a flashpoint for Orientalizing discourses, a point at which multiple fields of Orientalizing discourse intersect. This Orientalizing discourse regarding the Arab queer centers around three poles that contradict each other and at the same time are all simultaneously in play in these Orientalist discourses surrounding the Arab queer. Those poles are these: the Arab queer as uniquely and exceedingly oppressed subject (as exemplified by Israeli pinkwashing efforts), the Arab queer as polymorphously perverse, and the Arab queer as hypersexual, inchoate savage. The discursive dynamics between these three poles will be explored through the lens of critical theory as informed by Frantz Fanon, Sigmund Freud, and Chandra Talpade Mohanty, among others. Additionally, this paper will show that it is not only the Arab queer that is marked by these colonialist tropes, but the Arab World as a whole that is reified as all of these things through the discursive processes of Orientalism. Furthermore, this paper will demonstrate the necessity, particularly in the field of Middle Eastern Studies, of expanding the application of the rubrics of queer theory to spaces outside of queerness, and in the end call for the Middle East scholar to not merely look at discursive space as always already divided into rigid zones of sexual desires and identities, but to look more closely at the role of sexuality in the construction of colonialism, Orientalism, and Western hegemony.

This paper explores the precariousness of hegemonic masculinity in Rashid Al-Daif's writings, particularly focusing on the impacts of shifting gender roles, aging, and globalization on the construction (and deconstruction) of masculine identity. Engaging with masculinity studies and feminist theory, I offer a close reading of texts including Ṭiṣtifil Meryl Streep (Who’s Afraid of Meryl Streep?), OK, maʿ Al-salāmeh (OK,Goodbye) and What Makes a Man?, highlighting the contradictions of masculinity, as experienced by al-Daif male narrators. As al-Daif’s male protagonists face an increasingly globalized, or rather “glocalized” reality in contemporary Lebanon, they experience deep anxiety about not only their own status in the world, but also the state of their Arab culture and nation. Even seemingly trivial issues such as the widespread proliferation of the English language and cable television become sources of anxiety, as the former renders them incompetent (even impotent), while the latter threatens to “corrupt” their women folk because of its propagation of seemingly loose moral standards and blurred gender roles. At times, the narrators seem to disavow some of their reified notions of “manhood” and “womanhood.” Other times, they go to great lengths to assert an essentialized masculine identity that rejects alternative, and more fluid, performances of masculinity (and femininity). Often times, they inevitably crack down as they find themselves in a crisis, where neither their complicity with nor their rebellion against normative values and practices seem to enhance their intimate relationships with the women they love (and resent). I argue that while al-Daif’s narrators may display aggressive masculinity, or machismo, the texts often expose these protagonists’ underlying vulnerabilities and the unfortunate predicaments resulting from the narrators’ conscious or unconscious reinforcement of dominant masculine ideals. By revealing the “the cracks and fissures that belie the complications and contradictions embedded in the masculine project” (Whitehead and Barret 2001: 19), and by demonstrating the “cost” of complicit masculinity in the life of the novels’ tormented male narrators, the texts elucidate the precariousness of performing dominant masculinity, let along clinging to an essentialized male identity. In the face of shifting material realities such as women’s increased participation in the public space, late capitalism, evolving gender roles, and personal life changes such ageing and illness, al-Daif’s male protagonists ponder and learn, sometimes the hard way, that there are no easy answers to the increasingly elusive question “what makes a man?”.

This paper explores aspects of Lebanese masculinity through pigeon keeping. This activity, practiced by predominantly lower-class men, highlights elements of class oppression, identity crisis, male violence, and evolving familial and social relationships. I employ these aspects to analyze and better understand the evolving concept of Arab masculinity. I then offer a detailed analysis of the internal and external factors contributing to the phenomenon of “Arab masculinity in crisis” as it expresses itself through act and response, both linguistically and socially. The linguistic significance of this activity contributes to understanding the historical importance of the bird in masculinity and its symbolism in bellic discourse and social resistance. Furthermore, pigeon keeping serves as compensation for the Lebanese man’s feeling of emasculation that results from various elements including the country’s history of war and occupation and the prevalent corrupt politics in play. As the Lebanese man continues to experience loss of control and power, he seeks to regain control by practicing an activity that has grown to represent an identity of resistance to the ruling class and through creating a sub-society in which he is able to exert some perceived level of control. The pigeon keeper invests time and wit into procuring large amounts of rare pigeon breeds, and his reputation as enthusiast of this activity and his pride as Arab man depend on him not losing his pigeons to another keeper. Races, pigeon wars, and schemes take place as these men challenge each others’ identities and redefine their own. Employing the concepts of cultural studies, masculinity studies and power struggle, I argue that pigeon keeping plays a role of major significance in the identity crisis of the Lebanese man and is used as a tool of both resisting and establishing power. For as the Lebanese man attempts to overcome his feelings of emasculation through the activity of pigeon keeping, the following unintended consequences manifest: the validation of the emasculation the Lebanese man resists, and the employment of this social activity by the elite to reinforce tactics of oppression and emasculation in order to marginalize and silence this subculture. Pigeon keeping displays the unstable Arab identity and the latter’s integration in the variable Arab masculinity as subscribed identity. This activity will continue to increase in popularity in the Middle East and it will remain a symbol of masculine identity and peace as long as the Arab people lack both.

Masud Kimiai is one of a few prominent filmmakers who continue to direct important films after the Islamic revolution. In depicting the battles of male protagonists, his films provide a window onto the construction of masculinity and the struggles with modernity in Iranian society. His second film, Qaisar (1969), a major box office and critical success, transformed Iranian commercial cinema. The film’s male hero, associated with the chivalry and manliness of Shahnameh’s warriors and Shi’a martyrs, becomes a model not only for thousands of young viewers but also for Iran’s tough-guy movie genre. As Hamid Naficy in A Social History of Iranian Cinema (vol. 2) writes, the film elegizes the disappearance of the traditional “values of chivalry and manliness,” which are replaced by “vigilante thugs or by an indifferent authoritarian state” (299). Personal revenge was read as a code for “citizens’ revenge against governmental or upper-class oppression” (232). Kimiai’s early films foreshadowed the revolution. After the revolution, the rebellious male hero, who fought for honor, tradition, and responsibility, was transformed into the Islamicate warrior. There was little room for the individual revolt against the state. But with the end of Iran-Iraq war, the importance of the male hero as a warrior had become less relevant. There was a need for a new male model. Kimiai’s films change with the transformations of masculinity. For example, Protest (2000), made during the first term of Khatami’s reformist presidency, is a direct response to the heroic portrayal in Qaisar. The film begins with Amir leaving prison after 12 years for murdering the unfaithful fiancée of his younger brother Reza. Amir, a hero in jail, finds himself a stranger in the city. Reza admonishes him for the honor killing, arguing that there is no place for such acts in the new society. For the reformists, violence and rebellion are not a solution. Instead, there should be law, justice, and democracy. Reza works at a pizzeria and spends his time with other male and female university students discussing current events and their possible role in society. Another male character, Ghasem, is an opium-addict who is lost -- haunted by war and the death of his martyred brother. There is a crisis of masculinity. The male characters can no longer rely on traditional masculine identity to guide their actions. They are either lost or struggling to find their role in modern Iran.