Abstract
Studies in sexual citizenship have been successful in revealing heteronormative assumptions that underlie most mainstream models on sexual citizenship and contemporary sexual politics. Discussions about sexual citizenship, however, focus on heterosexuals and homosexuals, and less on bisexual citizenship. This article aims to discuss the in/exclusion of bisexuals in Dutch sexual citizenship as described in Dutch national LGBT emancipation policies (known as ‘homo-emancipation’). The analysis of policy documents shows that bisexuality is rendered invisible in multiple ways. Based on this analysis I argue that bisexual representation within sexual citizenship discourses and public policy documents is important to realize claims of self-identification, self-expression, and self-realization for bisexual citizens.
Introduction: Bisexual citizenship?
From a Dutch perspective studies concerning LGBT emancipation observe a lack of research into bisexuality and the every day life experiences of bisexuals (e.g. Keuzenkamp, 2010, 2012; Lipperts and Oosterhuis 2010, 2013). Research conducted by the Netherlands Institute for Social Research (Sociaal en Cultureel Planbureau, SCP) explored the lived experiences of bisexual men, women, and young people in contemporary Dutch society. Their research report on sexual minorities in the Netherlands (Keuzenkamp, 2010), includes two chapters in which adult bisexuality is explored, namely ‘experiences of homosexual and bisexual men’ (Hospers and Keuzenkamp, 2010) and ‘experiences of lesbian and bisexual women’ (Bos and Ehrhardt, 2010). Both chapters show that bisexuals are less open about their sexual identity compared to homosexual men and women. The chapter on homosexual and bisexual men shows that 94 percent of homosexual men are open about their sexual identity, while only 46 percent of bisexual men report that they have sexual desires for men too (Hospers and Keuzenkamp, 2010). In addition, bisexual men seem to have a substantially lower level of self-acceptance regarding their sexual identity, as compared to homosexual men (Hospers and Keuzenkamp, 2010). The 2010 SCP research report furthermore shows that in comparison to lesbian women, bisexual women are less open about their sexual identity with their family (77 compared to 91 percent) and colleagues (64 compared to 79 percent) (Bos and Ehrhardt, 2010). Bisexual women also have a lower degree of self-acceptance than lesbian women (Bos and Ehrhardt, 2010). It was also found that bisexual youngsters face more homonegativity and are significantly more prone to suicide compared to their homosexual equivalents (Van Bergen and Van Lisdonk, 2010a, 2010b, 2010c; Van Lisdonk and Van Bergen, 2010a, 2010b).
These statistics 1 indicate differences between homosexual men and women on the one hand and bisexual men and women on the other hand. Moreover, the statistics show that there are differences between bisexual men and women. Felten et al. (2010) conclude that bisexual men are highly invisible within society, while bisexual women are seen as participating in a contemporary trend to identify oneself as bisexual. These statistics and observations suggest the need to design policies which focus on bisexuality and the specific issues that bisexual people face (see Barker et al., 2012; Monro, 2005). In addition, studies outside the Netherlands show that biphobia or binegativity is a substantial issue within heterosexual and homosexual communities (Eliason, 2001; Herek et al., 2010; Mohr and Rochlen, 1999; Mulick and Wright Jr, 2002). Prejudices towards bisexuality are present amongst both heterosexuals and lesbians/gay men (see Asher, 2009; Monro, 2010) as bisexuals are often seen as ‘not yet out of the closet’ or ‘still seeking the privileges of heterosexuality’ (e.g. Hemmings, 2002). A number of studies show that bisexuals have a higher risk of sexual identity confusion compared to homosexual men and women (Balsam and Mohr, 2007; Herek et al., 2010). As such, it is important to recognize bisexuality, a bisexual identity/bisexual identities, and bisexual citizens in policy papers that are dedicated to the emancipation of all LGBT individuals.
Anderlini-D’Onofrio and Alexander observe that: ‘the imperative to treat heterosexual monogamy and monosexuality as normative […] has been so pervasive, so powerful, that many people, including scholars and critics, have had difficulty thinking outside of or beyond the gay/straight binary’ (2009: 207; emphasis added). This monosexual logic can be identified as a one-to-one link between sexual activities/performances and sexual identities (Green et al., 2011; Gurevich et al., 2009). It is argued that monosexuality renders bisexuality and bisexuals invisible because sexual activities and performances with someone from the same sex immediately lead to the conclusion that someone is gay/lesbian whereas sexual activities/performances with someone from the opposite sex instantly lead to the conclusion that someone is heterosexual. Surprisingly, it appears that this pervasive and powerful logic which influences society has not been subject to a thorough examination in sexual citizenship discourses.
Since the 1990s, sexual citizenship studies have developed into a vast body of literature which examines the relation between sexuality and the state (see below). In 2006, however, it was observed that literature on bisexual citizenship was lacking (Bell and Binnie, 2006; Cooper, 2006). This gap still exists today and will be addressed in this article. The implemention of a new policy direction of the Dutch government – known as the homo-emancipation policies – provides an interesting case study with which to examine the inclusion and/or exclusion of bisexuality within national government policies of the Netherlands. This article aims to explore the presence and/or absence of bisexual citizenship in Dutch LGBT emancipation policies. It will firstly address sexual citizenship, followed by a section on bisexuality and the state. I will conclude this article with some preliminary thoughts on conditions for a more (bisexual) inclusive discourse on sexual citizenship.
Sex and the state
The concept of sexual citizenship essentially reflects the relation, or multiple relations, between the state and its sexualized citizens (Binnie, 1997). Since the mid-1990s, these relations have been under constant exploration and examination and this has led to a range of publications within the social sciences and beyond (e.g. Attwood, 2006; Bell, 1995a; Bell and Binnie, 2006; Binnie, 1997; Cooper, 2006; Cossman, 2002; Hubbard, 2001; Monro, 2005; Monro and Richardson, 2012; Plummer, 2001; Richardson, 1998, 2000, 2005; Seidman, 2001; Stychin, 2001; Waaldijk, 2012; Waaldijk and Clapham, 1993; Waites, 2005; Weeks, 1998). Sexual citizenship, or intimate citizenship (Plummer, 2001; Weeks, 1998), can be conceptualized as ‘the control (or not) over one’s body, feelings, relationships: access (or not) to representations, relationships, public spaces, etc; and socially grounded choices (or not) about identities, gender experiences’ (Plummer, 1995: 151; emphasis in original, cited in Weeks, 1998). As such, sexual citizenship is about the potentialities and limitations of sexualized subjects within political and legal frameworks. In other words, from a dominant liberal approach (see Monro, 2005), sexual citizenship is about a ‘number of different right claims, of which some are recognized as legitimate and are sanctioned by the state’ (Richardson, 2000: 107). Richardson describes three subcategories within the right claims, namely: ‘conduct-based claims, identity-based claims, and claims that are relationship based’ (2000: 107). The conduct-based claims refer to the possibilities and limitations of sexual behaviour and body control, whereas the identity-based claims refer to the potentialities of defining a self-identity autonomously, and the possibilities and constraints of labelling oneself to the outside world. Relationship-based claims are the claims, or rights to freely engage in a relationship, voluntarily engage in sexual activities, and validate a relationship in public space. Previous research on the relation between the state and sexual citizenship has been criticised by a number of theorists for its reiteration of heterosexual norms, values, and orthodoxies (see Bell, 1995a; Butler, 2008; Cossman, 2002; Monro and Richardson, 2012; Richardson, 1998, 2000; Seidman, 2001; Weeks, 1998).
As mainstream models of sexual citizenship are based upon heterosexual norms, values, and orthodoxies, it is no surprise that Western debates about sexual citizenship also tend to focus upon the potentialities and limitations of inclusion of sexual minorities into sexual citizenship discourses. Of course, we should not forget that the (sexual) citizen ‘operates in the public sphere, carrying rights and entitlements but also responsibilities to fellow citizens and to the community which defines citizenship’ (Weeks, 1998: 36). Whilst we understand that the sexual citizen operates in public spaces, sexuality is often conceived as only being part of private spaces (e.g. Duncan, 1996; Robinson, 2012). It is argued that the normalizing (liberal) discourse of sexual citizenship is mainly aimed at the privatizing of sexuality and regulating of non-heterosexual sexualities outside the public spheres (Monro, 2005; Richardson, 2000). Richardson (2000: 110) argues that in the British case, ‘this conceptual division between the public and the private is […] fundamental to a liberal model of sexual citizenship, which has predominated in Britain since the 1960s, based on a politics of tolerance and assimilation’.
Following Cossman, ‘sexual citizenship is a disciplining and normalizing discourse. The struggle for sexual citizenship has been a struggle not only for inclusion, but for normalisation’ (2002: 486) and ‘[the struggle for sexual citizenship] is marked by contradiction and ambivalence, in which some aspects of heteronormativity are being challenged, while others are reinforced’ (2002: 486). Robinson (2012) explores LGBT emancipation in the Netherlands and concludes that a normalizing culture exists in which sexuality belongs in private spaces. Furthermore, he concludes that public spaces are policed by a dogma of ‘act normal, as that is crazy enough’ (doe maar normaal, dan doe je al gek genoeg), which can loosely be translated as an unwritten social contract which favours normality over being too different. 2 The public acknowledgment of sexual citizenship for sexual deviants also means a negotiation of sexual citizenship – of what is acceptable and what is not. This negotiation has a normalizing effect in which radical claims are less outspoken in favour of more ‘normal’ claims (e.g. Browne and Bakshi, 2013). Sexual citizens who are too different from prevailing heterosexual norms seem to be rendered invisible in public spaces, whereas certain sexual minority citizens who mirror heterosexual values, norms, and behaviours are allowed into particular public spaces. In the Dutch context, it is argued that ‘[t]he heteronormative discourse is adopted by gays and lesbians who are often eager to act “normally” by shunning unmasculine (for men), unfeminine (for women) and explicit erotic behaviour’ (Hekma and Duyvendak, 2011: 629).
Seidman (2001) argues, from a queer perspective, that the normalizing processes of sexual citizenship do not necessarily remove radical claims and may even foster radical claims as the normalizing effects of sexual citizenship becomes more and more clear (e.g. Richardson, 2004). Inclusion of sexual minorities is not only important to include radical voices in sexual citizenship discussions, it also means recognition and a higher degree of visibility. Public recognition of someone’s sexual identity is crucial, because ‘[t]he ability to be “out” and publicly visible is […] crucial to the ability to claim rights’ (Richardson, 2000: 120). Becoming visible is a critical factor in the self-labelling and self-expression of minority sexual subjects (see Barker et al., 2012). As such, representation (or inclusion) is an important factor for people to know about the recognition of their sexual identity and to know about the public awareness and social acceptance of their identity.
Bisexuality and the state
Bisexual citizenship has largely been ignored in contemporary examinations of sexual citizenship (Bell and Binnie, 2006; Cooper, 2006). Only recently has it been explored (Monro, 2005; Monro and Richardson, 2012). Although this research observes overlap with other sexual minorities, the authors also conclude that there are several issues which are specific for bisexuals and bisexual citizenship. Monro (2005) argues that ‘the reforms necessary to support bisexual citizenship would arguably involve a queering of the mainstream, as sexual fluidity and multiplicity would become normalized, and the rigidity of heterosexual identification would be questioned’ (Monro, 2005: 157). Acceptance of sexual fluidity (or multiple sexual desires) is one of the cornerstones of bisexual citizenship, while recognition of a bisexual identity, and of polyamory are others (Monro, 2005). As Asher (2009) notes, bisexuality and polyamory are not necessarily related, however both concepts are often associated with each other as bisexuals are seen as involved in promiscuous relationships. It is also argued in the Bisexuality Report that bisexuals are more polyamorous compared to non-bisexuals (Barker et al., 2012). The report further argues that bisexuality needs to become more visible, as it is rendered invisible in society, including public policy (Barker et al., 2012). As such, this article can be used to contribute to theory on bisexual citizenship by providing an empirical lens through which bisexual citizenship is negotiated in national policies.
Methods
As stated in the introduction, the aim of this article is to explore the presence and/or absence of bisexual citizenship in Dutch LGBT emancipation policies. These policies are designed by the Ministry of Education, Culture, and Science (Onderwijs, Cultuur en Wetenschap.) The article will use the abbrevation ‘OCW’ for all documents of this Ministry). The focus of the article is on policy documents that are part of the ‘Third Wave of Homo-Emancipation’ (see Jivraj and De Jong, 2011), that is policy documents from 2007 onwards. I used discourse analysis to explore bisexual citizenship in the Netherlands. Drawing inspiration from Bowes-Catton’s discussion of post-structuralist discourse analysis, I believe that it is important for the researcher to ‘acknowledge the partial and situated nature of the analysis being undertaken, and to consider the impact of the identity and commitments of the researcher upon it’ (2007: 62). As such, it is important to reflect upon the positionality of the researcher as a Dutch bisexual activist. I am convinced that my analysis and interpretations are influenced by this identification and position. The choice to analyze Dutch LGBT emancipation policies is based upon my identity and commitments to the bisexual movement in the Netherlands. This article is thus limited to one case study, however this does not necessarily limit the analysis and conclusions to only Dutch researchers, activists, and policy makers. It is not my intention to generalize, but to provide a socio-temporal interpretation of bisexual citizenship. Drawing upon Flyvbjerg (2006), I will argue that case studies may provide insights that are more widely applicable or, at least, provide tools for discussing bisexual citizenship in other Western (or neo-liberal) countries.
Two assumptions guide the analytical process. In the first place, language is important as it contributes to the construction of identities which are an effect of a set of repeated acts that take place within a regulatory framework (see Valentine et al., 2008). To emphasize the importance of language as a means to construct, negotiate, and challenge sexual identities provides the opportunity to focus upon the (in)visibility of sexual identities in policy documents. As such, it becomes possible to explore the enabling or constraining role of the national government for bisexuals to claim bisexual citizenship rights. Secondly, language is not only a means to express meaning, but also a means to do – a mechanism Brown (2000) names as ‘doing-by-saying’; language is a performative act. Bowes-Catton (2007) argues that a discourse is a form of social practice. To extend this point, my research also sees language as a social practice: language does. I draw on an approach which explores the working of language to include or exclude bisexuality and bisexuals in national government policy and policy documents.
Documents, years of publication, pages and number of references to bisexuality/bisexual(s).
Homo-emancipation policy
‘Bisexuality […] proved the limit case for local government’s programme of inclusivity’ (Cooper, 2006: 939). In other words, emancipation or equality politics tend to neglect bisexuals and bisexuality within its ‘inclusive approach’. While Cooper (2006) is making this argument for UK local government policies, I would like to extend it to the Dutch national emancipation policy.
The OCW publishes consecutive policy outlooks on homo-emancipation; an example of this is the 2007 document Just being gay: Lesbian and gay emancipation policy 2008–2013. What does homo-emancipation mean? An explanatory footnote on homo-emancipation states: With the term ‘homo’ or ‘homosexual’ the document refers to: lesbian women, homosexual men, bisexual men and women, and transgender persons, unless the text states differently. The term ‘homosexuality’, as used in this document, describes someone’s personal and social identity, and not only someone’s sexuality. (OCW, 2007: 5; translation by author)
As noted above, language as a practice can contribute to identity formation and has the potential to create discourses in which people can mirror their identities. The choice of the OCW not to mention bisexuality throughout the document renders bisexuality invisible, thus making sexual citizenship for bisexuals even more difficult. Richardson argues that the civil rights claim of self-realization – the realization of your own chosen sexual identity – ‘may include the right to develop diverse sexual identities in an unhindered, if not state-assisted manner’ (2001: 121). She finds inspiration from, amongst others, the work of Pakulski (1997) on cultural citizenship. Richardson argues that Pakulski advocates for a right to create and maintain one’s own identities instead of assimilation towards dominant identities. Cultural citizenship, he argues, ‘involves “the right to be ‘different”, to re-value stigmatized identities, to embrace openly and legitimately hitherto marginalised lifestyles and to propagate them without hindrance’ (Pakulski, 1997: 83). The OCW decision to use homo-emancipation as an umbrella term for gay men, lesbian women, bisexual men and women, and transgenders can easily be seen as a way of policing minority sexual identities into a homogenous group, thus making it very difficult for bisexuals to be different. This shows the power of language, but also that language has a twofold outcome. Reflecting upon the aforementioned discussion of language and its performative force, ‘If a performative speech act is “doing by saying”, can its inverse also have performative force?’ (Brown, 2000: 40). This analysis indicates that the use of language is limited to monosexual notions of fixed, static sexual identities. Bisexuality as a sexual identity that does not one-to-one link sexual identities/performances with sexual identities, remains invisible because of this monosexual discourse. As Monro argues: ‘[t]he bisexual communities are similarly diverse, with different aims. The identity fluidity associated with bisexuality means that bisexuals easily become politically assimilated into either heterosexual or lesbian/gay cultures’ (Monro, 2005: 145–6). I do not want to argue that this monosexual discourse is consciously chosen; it is noted, for instance, that bisexuals also still use monosexual terms and concepts and find it difficult to challenge monosexual logic (see Ault, 1996; Bereket and Brayton, 2008; Waites, 2005). In fact, the more-than-conscious choice of monosexual notions and terms shows the performative power of monosexuality and fixed sexual identity claims (see Anderlini-D’Onofrio and Alexander, 2009).
The 2010 evaluations of the homo-emancipation policy – part I (OCW, 2010a) and II (OCW, 2010b) – confirm the uneasiness of including bisexuality in Dutch LGBT policies. In fact, the 2010b document refers only to bisexuality in the context of ‘lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender’ without focusing on bisexual people themselves. 4 The 2010a document provides a similar view of the homo-emancipation policy and the non-inclusion of bisexuals. Interestingly enough, there is a separate section on transgender people. This section is justified as follows: ‘the problems faced by transgender people are different than the ones faced by homosexual men, lesbian women, and bisexual men and women. This is not to say that transgender people also, and often, experience discrimination and inequality of treatment’ (OCW, 2010a: 19; translation by author). From the above statement we can conclude that the OCW emancipation policy equates the life experiences of bisexual men and women with the life experiences of homosexual men and women. This is also highlighted in the following statement: ‘in 2009 one in ten homosexual or bisexual men were insulted, intimidated, or bullied at school or at work because of their sexual orientation. Regarding lesbian and bisexual women these statistics are even more unfavorable where it is four in ten’ (OCW, 2010a: 4; translation by author). Following this, under the heading ‘lesbian women’, the following can be found: ‘the [emancipation] policy also focusses on the empowerment of lesbian and bisexual women. Lesbian women are less involved and visible in the emancipation processes compared to homosexual men’ (2010a: 14; translation by author). The above quotes make clear that the lack of representation of bisexuality in public domains is partially located in equating bisexuals with homosexuals. 5 Lesbians and bisexual women are seen as sexual minority groups with the same needs and problems. This is remarkable as several studies have shown that numerous tensions exist between the LGBT subgroups (see e.g. Hemmings, 2002; McLean, 2008; Monro, 2005; Monro and Richardson, 2010). A practical example of such tensions is the struggle for the inclusion of bisexuals in Gay and Lesbian Prides (Hemmings, 2002; McLean, 2008); it is not uncommon that bisexuals are seen as an obstruction to gay and lesbian political claims. Here, it is important to note that, ‘[b]y sustaining an impermeable heterosexual/homosexual binary (for adults), fixity claims contribute to producing discrete social groups which can be addressed by liberalism in the language of equality, while the need to address underlying inequalities is evaded’ (Waites, 2005: 557).
The emancipation policy document for 2011–2015 (OCW, 2011a) provides us with a slightly more nuanced view where it is argued, in a section about gay–straight alliances, that ‘the four currently existing nationwide gay–straight alliances (work, education, elderly, and sports) will be continued, broadened, and deepened. Due to the fact that specific problems exist within this extra attention will be given to lesbian women, bisexuals, and transgender people’ (2011a: 7; translation by author). This statement can be read as a recognition by the OCW that gay–straight alliances mainly focus on the position of homosexual men, but more important, also as a recognition that bisexuals face different and bisexual-specific problems and issues. The 2015 outlook however fails to provide a detailed account of the lived experiences of bisexuals, as well as bisexuality-specific action points and objectives for 2015.
Recently, the OCW published an emancipation policy document for 2013–2016 (OCW, 2013b) which includes the main focus areas for the coming four years. It immediately becomes clear, during the analysis of the scope and content of the policy paper, that there is a significant silence regarding bisexuality. The document’s main emphasis lies with homosexual emancipation and, more clearly articulated, transgender emancipation in a heterosexual society. The heterosexual/homosexual division of sexual identities in contemporary society is reflected in this OCW policy paper. This is evident in the following excerpt: ‘consecutive governments have and continue to, in relation to LGBT-emancipation, place the following subjects on their agenda: equal rights for heterosexuals and homosexuals, social acceptance, and the combatting of violence’ (OCW, 2013b: 1; translation by author, emphasis added). This view of heterosexuality and homosexuality as the two authentic sexual orientations can be understood as the socio-temporal outcome of a monosexual sexual identity discourse and as a monosexual performance.
While the term homo-emancipation has shifted towards the term LGBT-emancipation, 6 this analysis of OCW policy documents does not find any concrete and tangible effort in the emancipation policy of the Dutch government to include bisexuals. This aligns with Cooper’s findings (2006) on local government policies in the UK, that bisexuality is often mentioned in reports without making any visible change in LGBT policies. In response to the most recent policy paper (2013–2016) the COC Netherlands (the Dutch national LGBT organization) states that it observes a lack of specific measures to promote the emancipation of bisexuals within the 2013–2016 emancipation paper. 7
Concluding remarks
OCW policies seem to be changing, albeit slowly, from homo-emancipation towards a more inclusive LGBT-participation. However, the main emphasis of the Dutch emancipation policies, for the moment, focuses on homosexual men and lesbian women. 8 The 2011–2015 emancipation policy document (OCW, 2011a) provides space for a more bisexual-inclusive policy wherein the government acknowledges the specific needs and circumstances of bisexuals. Apart from paying lip-service towards bisexuality and bisexuals in policy documents, the OCW documents do not offer detailed descriptions or discussions about the specific needs of bisexuals. They do not include action points for the inclusion of bisexuality in LGBT-emancipation policies. Specific topics for bisexuals such as ‘love beyond gender’, sexual fluidity, or polyamory are not addressed in national government policies.
It can be seen that the logic behind Dutch emancipation policies is one of emancipation, or rather the assimilation, of homosexuals in a heterosexual society. Part of this will to include homosexual citizens may stem from the idea that the Netherlands is a gay-friendly country, which is an important part of a Dutch national identity discourse (Buijs et al., 2011). Moreover, by enforcing a heterosexual/homosexual binary in policy papers, people who desire ‘more-than-one sex’ are underrepresented and invisible; this monosexual logic creates a type of censorship (Seidman, 2001). This conclusion confirms explorations of linguistic discourses sexualities which show that monosexual and binary linguistics are problematic for bisexuals (Ault, 1996). Going back to the liberal rights approach (Richardson, 2000) – especially the second strand of rights, which are defined as rights sought through self-definition and the development of individual identities – the conclusions are fairly straightforward. On the one hand the Dutch government aims to provide a safe, secure, and supportive environment for all sexual identities, while on the other hand the equating of bisexuals with homosexuals constrains the possibilities of bisexuals for sexual identity development (rights for self-definition and self-expression). The already mentioned ignorance of specific issues for bisexuals constrains bisexual citizens from realizing their sexual identities.
This analysis of the OCW policy documents is limited as it only considers policy documents from the Third Wave of Homo-emancipation policies and does not include publications from before ‘Just Being Gay’ homo-emancipation documents. As such, the inclusion of bisexuality within policy documents prior to 2007 is not considered here. It should, however, be noted that an overview of the difficult emancipation of bisexuality in the Netherlands shows that it was only in the late 1980s and beginning of the 1990s that bisexuality became more accepted in sexuality discourses and survey questions (see Lipperts and Oosterhuis, 2010, 2013). This research has other limitations in (1) its analysis of only one liberal West-European country’s national emancipation policies, and (2) the positionality of the researcher who is also involved in Dutch bisexual activism. To work, however, from a local context, might provide interesting insights and reflections upon (bi)sexual citizenship discourses in other contexts and thus contribute to the development of a body of knowledge on bisexual citizenship (see Flyvbjerg, 2006).
Coming from a more theoretical point of view, feminist (and bisexual) theorist Clare Hemmings warns that ‘[i]n terms of sexual citizenship, too, the inability of bisexuals to argue that they were born that way without risking being relocated in the middle ground of predisposition and hence not identity makes rights claims within the public sphere especially problematic’ (Hemmings, 2002: 27). It should, of course, be noted that bisexuals are not a homogenous group. In fact, they are everything but homogenous (e.g. trans, intersex, cisgender; monogamous or non-monogamous, polyamorous or not; sexual or asexual) – and often bisexuals prefer a non-fixed categorization of their sexual identity (e.g. Bell, 1995b; Betts et al., 2008; Bradford, 2004) or possess a queer attitude towards gender binaries – ‘I love people, not genitals’.
Bowes-Catton (2007) provides an interesting account of bisexual identity politics by reviewing the well-known debate on essentialization of bisexual identities versus the celebration of fluidity and diversity within the bisexual community. I argue that the representation of bisexuality in government policies and reports might provide an acknowledgment of sexual identities beyond the heterosexual/homosexual binary. In line with Bell (1995b), I argue for the use of strategic essentialism (see also Ault, 1996; Bowes-Catton, 2007; Richardson, 2000) to advocate for the inclusion of bisexuality and bisexuals in sexual citizenship discussions and discourses. Waites concludes in his paper on the heterosexual/homosexual binary that ‘[f]or bisexual and queer politics, meanwhile, a critical issue that remains is the need to develop sustained and effective political strategies to influence discourses on sexuality and achieve political representation in the public sphere’ (2005: 563; emphasis added). As such, this article suggests a more communitarian approach (see Monro, 2005) to bisexual citizenship, instead of a liberal approach based upon individual rights. Although differences between bisexuals need to be taken into account, a social and political alliance of bisexuals provides more potential for public recognition and consequently more potential for bisexual citizenship claims (see Bell, 1995b).
This argument also provides an answer to the concerns of Cossman who argues that sexual citizenship as a normalizing and disciplining discourse ‘de-radicalises claims for social transformation by incorporating sexual minorities into dominant political and social norms and institutions’ (2002: 486). Following Cossman, activist attempts to include bisexuality in sexual citizenship might de-radicalize bisexual sexual politics against heteronormative binaries of heterosexuality/homosexuality and the sex and gender binaries which are used to determine someone’s sexual identity. Seidman (2001) argues that an inclusion of gays in the political arena resulted in a weakened heteronormative logic. Similiarly, I argue that an inclusion of bisexuality in sexual citizenship discourses has the potential to challenge the monosexual assumption of society, which only acknowledges heterosexuality and homosexuality as authentic sexual identities and succeeds in rendering bisexuality invisible. The political representation of bisexuality in national political documents and discourses might foster sexual citizenship rights for self-expression and self-realization and provide a means for sexual citizens to self-identify as bisexual within private and public domains. Finally, the findings from this study support the assertions of authors such as Asher (2009) and Monro (2005) that an entering of bisexuality into national politics provides the potential to challenge assumptions of fixed sexual identities, as well as opening up discussions about the heterosexual/homosexual binary, the sex and gender binary, and forms of promiscuous relationships such as polyamory and polygamy that are assumed, by a monosexual logic, to be part of bisexual existence.
Footnotes
Funding
This research received no specific grant from any funding agency in the public, commercial, or not-for-profit sectors.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks to Letitita Smuts, Erwin Heyl and Josien Reijer for comments on previous draft versions, and Josien Reijer in particular for methodological discussions. I am also very grateful for the constructive feedback from the anonymous reviewers. Finally I would like to thank Surya Monro for valuable comments which helped me to refine this article and Feona Attwood for guidance during the submission process.