Gay Jordanian Now ‘Gloriously Free’ in Canada
  Sent to Canada to ‘Straighten Out,’ He Founded
  Support Group for Muslims
  The
  Globe & Mail, May 20, 2004
  444 Front St. W., Toronto, Ontario, M5V 2S9 Canada
  Fax: 416-585-5085
  Email: letters@globeandmail.com
  By Marina Jimenez
  When the family of Al-Hussein, son of a wealthy Jordanian
  politician, found out he was gay, they threw him down the stairs.
  While he was recovering in hospital from a broken leg and
  smashed jaw, his younger brother shot him in the ankle.
  A bureaucrat in the Jordanian government, his brother was
  never prosecuted for this act of public violence because it was considered a
  “family matter.”
  Mr. Hussein knew that under Islamic law, he had got off
  lightly: He could be stoned to death for committing homosexual acts, or
  murdered by his family in an honour killing.
  In 2000, Mr. Hussein’s father agreed to send him to
  Canada to “straighten out.”
  Instead, the wayward and talented son, the “artistic”
  one with the flamboyant wardrobe, founded a gay support group for Muslims.
  He made a successful refugee claim and is now starring in
  a documentary by Filmblanc production company on Canada’s gay refugee
  claimants titled Gloriously Free, after words in the Canadian national anthem.
  “I am doing the film because I want people to know what
  homosexuals go through in the Middle East,” said Mr. Hussein, a youthful
  47-year-old in cut-off shorts and a sleeveless red T-shirt, his fingers and
  ears adorned with silver jewellery.
  “I have lost everything, but I don’t regret coming
  here. Now I can walk down the street without having to watch my back,
  wondering if I will be killed.”
  When he left Amman, he gave up a 20-year career as a set
  designer for Jordan Television, and signed over all his assets—a BMW and
  Suzuki Jeep, a home and interior design business and his inheritance—to his
  brother, the one who had tried to kill him.
  “I don’t approve of what my brother did, but I
  understand why he did it. It was about preserving the family’s honour,” he
  says, pulling down his sock to reveal several white scars and tapping his
  false teeth.
  The documentary, to be aired on OMNI Television this
  fall, will also have testimonials from four more gay refugees: a Jamaican man
  who was beaten; a Brazilian singer whose father forced him to have an
  operation on his vocal cords to cure his “effeminate” voice; a former U.S.
  oil-drilling-company manager who is HIV-positive, and a Mexican man.
  “Canada has become a haven for gay refugees and we are
  tapping into why this is,” said Noemi Weis, president of Toronto-based
  Filmblanc.
  Mr. Hussein’s life story is one of wealth and
  privilege, as well as secrecy and shame, as he struggled to fit into a
  traditional Arab culture that considers homosexuality the greatest sin.
  The family moved in the same social and political circles
  as the royal family.
  His father, who served both as deputy defence minister
  and as an adviser to the royal family, received special permission from the
  late King Hussein I for his son to have the same name.
  Mr. Hussein was educated at the best private schools and
  grew up in a five-bedroom house, surrounded by servants. There were weekends
  at Dead Sea resorts, and summer vacations at five-star hotels in Paris.
  While still a teenager, Mr. Hussein began a clandestine
  affair with a family “slave” named Amber, a gift to the family from King
  Hussein’s uncle. “Because of the strict segregation of genders in Arab
  culture, there is a lot of closeted homosexuality,” he says.
  “Most men at some stage have sex with a man because
  they all have needs. Women are supposed to stay virgins until they marry.”
  Rumours about his homosexuality began to spread, and his
  father forced him to marry in 1986 when he was 29. He told his fiancée the
  truth, but she accepted the match because of the Hussein family’s social
  cachet. The couple had three children through artificial insemination.
  Mr. Hussein tried to conduct his gay affairs discreetly,
  but in 1996, he fell in love with the head of Jordan’s national judo team.
  He separated from his wife and built a house on the outskirts of Amman where
  the lovers could meet in secret.
  One night, his brother caught the two men kissing, and,
  enraged, threw Mr. Hussein down the stairs, breaking his leg. He underwent
  surgery, and spent three months in the hospital recovering, with an armed
  bodyguard posted outside his room.
  His brother later shot him in the hospital lobby after
  Mr. Hussein’s lover came to visit him. When he was released, it was not to
  his own home, but to a tiny servant’s room with bars on the window in his
  brother’s home. He had become his family’s prisoner.
  A sympathetic aunt in Toronto persuaded his father that
  Canada could save him. And so Mr. Hussein gave up his pampered life and came
  to Toronto with $300 (U.S.).
  He went on to form Salaam, a gay rights organization for
  Muslims, as well as Wattan, an organization that helps gay refugees.
  Recently, he summoned the courage to tell his 15-year-old
  daughter in an e-mail why he left the country. “She wrote me back and said,
  ‘You’re still my father and I love you and accept you,’” he said.
  
  
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