The past two decades have brought steady if uneven progress on the human rights of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer/questioning people. Landmark court rulings have decriminalized consensual same-sex relations in India, Namibia, and parts of the Caribbean. In 2004, just two countries, Belgium and the Netherlands, had enshrined the right of same-sex couples to marry. Today, 39 countries around the world have done so, including, most recently, Greece and Thailand. Argentina’s pioneering Gender Identity Law, enacted in 2012, allowed transgender people to change the information on their identity documents without having to undergo onerous medical procedures. In Ecuador and Malta, comprehensive nondiscrimination policies protect LGBTQ people in schools, public institutions, and the workplace.
LGBTQ rights endure when they are written into or otherwise grounded in national constitutions; culturally normalized across partisan lines; upheld through strong, independent judiciaries; supported by civil society organizations that operate freely; and reinforced by regional or international human rights structures. Ultimately, the stronger a country’s liberal democratic institutions, the better protected the rights of LGBTQ people become.
But in many countries today, the very institutions that once enabled progress are under assault. In Hungary, for example, independent judiciaries are captured by political interests. In the United States, protections passed by executive order have been reversed and replaced with new constraints. In Turkey, civil society organizations face increasingly restrictive regulations that impede free expression and assembly.
Threats to democratic institutions and threats to LGBTQ rights are mutually reinforcing, generating a vicious cycle that strengthens authoritarian control. Illiberal leaders deliberately exploit divisions over LGBTQ issues to consolidate political power, tapping into popular anxieties about changing social norms to build electoral coalitions and maintain public support. They proceed to undermine independent courts, free media, and civil society organizations—sometimes using their moral opposition to LGBTQ rights as justification. When democratic safeguards are weakened, LGBTQ rights lose their protection from further attack. Ensuring that LGBTQ people can live in safety and with equal opportunity therefore requires not only defending their rights but also addressing the crisis of democracy that renders them vulnerable.
RIGHTS ROLLBACK
Every country is different, but on the whole, advances in LGBTQ rights have been driven by sustained advocacy campaigns that made use of institutional pathways for reform in democratic or democratizing environments. Many countries that transitioned from authoritarian to democratic rule, such as Brazil and South Africa, adopted constitutions that embraced international human rights standards and protections for marginalized groups, enabling LGBTQ activists to challenge discriminatory laws through litigation or legislative lobbying. Independent constitutional courts established binding precedents to allow same-sex marriage, permit joint adoption by LGBTQ couples, and guarantee employment nondiscrimination in places such as Colombia, Mexico, and the United States. And transnational networks of nonstate actors, including activists, used international mechanisms to pressure national officials, filing complaints regarding anti-LGBTQ violence and discrimination to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights or calling attention to European Parliament resolutions that condemn anti-LGBTQ measures in local media.
The erosion of liberal democratic norms and institutional safeguards has created fertile ground for efforts to roll back those gains or enact oppressive anti-LGBTQ laws. In recent years, for example, important checks on government power have weakened in Ghana: media freedom has declined as journalists face violence and death threats, and judicial corruption has eroded trust in the courts. In this newly permissive environment, Ghana’s parliament unanimously passed a bill in 2024 that criminalized both identifying as LGBTQ and advocating gay rights, a move that the government defended as democratically legitimate because the measure had public support. Similarly, in Indonesia, President Joko Widodo’s administration spent years weakening oversight bodies and political opponents by curbing the powers of a government anticorruption commission and the Constitutional Court, co-opting parliamentary opposition, and silencing journalists. In late 2022, near the end of his second term, the government approved legislation that criminalized all sex outside of marriage. The bill in effect targeted LGBTQ people, given that same-sex marriage remains illegal in Indonesia.
When democratic safeguards weaken, LGBTQ rights lose their protection from attack.
Transnational networks of religious groups, conservative activists and donors, and governments such as Russia’s increasingly bolster domestic efforts to oppose LGBTQ causes. A recent report from the European Parliamentary Forum for Sexual and Reproductive Rights found that 275 organizations spent more than $1 billion between 2019 and 2023 promoting anti-LGBTQ and other conservative social agendas within Europe. When local politicians, religious leaders, or activists launch such a campaign, these networks are ready to provide them with pro-family messaging, templates for proposed laws, legal support, and relevant training. In many cases, local actors who accept the guidance of these transnational activists rally behind the manufactured threat of “gender ideology”—a vague term initially adopted by the Vatican to cast LGBTQ and feminist advocacy as subverting traditional notions of the family—to label LGBTQ inclusion as a foreign imposition against which democratic majorities must defend themselves.
In 2023, for example, Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni signed a draconian bill that imposed a penalty of life imprisonment for engaging in same-sex activity and the death penalty for a new crime of “aggravated homosexuality,” defined as same-sex relations involving a minor, a person with disabilities or mental illness, a person with HIV, or a person previously convicted of homosexuality. Ugandan lawmakers received support from the U.S.-based organization Family Watch International, which, according to reporting by The Wall Street Journal and CNN, advised them on language for the draft law and on messaging to describe LGBTQ rights as an idea forced on the Ugandan people by the West.
CANARY IN THE COAL MINE
Efforts to undermine these rights often arise in tandem with other illiberal aims. A 2023 study my colleagues and I conducted at the Williams Institute, a think tank at the UCLA School of Law, examined data from 175 countries from 1981 to 2020 and found that in places where governments use anti-LGBTQ rhetoric or enact anti-LGBTQ measures, other forms of democratic backsliding such as restrictions on independent media or crackdowns on freedom of assembly are likely to occur. The problem is not just that weakening a country’s democratic institutions enables the government to pass such laws; an anti-LGBTQ campaign can also help a would-be authoritarian gain and wield power.
This strategy works because sexual and gender minorities already face social exclusion and marginalization in many places. According to a 2021 Williams Institute study, although social acceptance of LGBTQ rights is increasing globally, the picture is more complicated at the country level. Countries that are most accepting of these rights generally become even more accepting over time, while countries that are the least accepting become more hostile. Countries in the middle tend to see little or no change in attitudes. If changing norms surrounding gender and sexuality generate sufficient apprehension among a large enough segment of society, authoritarian leaders or opportunistic politicians can solidify their own support and get the public behind illiberal agendas by tapping into popular fears. Polish President Andrzej Duda, for example, narrowly won reelection in 2020 by campaigning against LGBTQ “ideology,” which he argued was “more destructive” than communism and antithetical to Poland’s Catholic identity—effectively scapegoating LGBTQ people for electoral gain.
Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban has also had success running this playbook to shore up his party’s electoral support. Since 2021, he has enacted a series of anti-LGBTQ laws, including restrictions on legal gender recognition for transgender people and a ban on adoption by same-sex couples, as part of an agenda to elevate “traditional values” over what he considers the cosmopolitanism and pro-migration policies of the European Union. In March 2025, the Hungarian parliament passed legislation that banned the “depiction or promotion” of homosexuality to minors, modeled on a similar ban that Russia passed in 2013. The law effectively prohibited public organizing around LGBTQ rights, including Pride marches, and permitted the government to use AI-powered surveillance and biometric data to identify attendees at these events.
An anti-LGBTQ campaign can help a would-be authoritarian gain power.
Worryingly, restrictions on LGBTQ rights can pave the way for restrictions on other rights. This process follows a familiar pattern: first, leaders cast LGBTQ people as threats, creating a moral justification for increasingly repressive measures that limit expression and assembly. These measures can then provide legal frameworks and generate social tolerance for broader constraints on civil liberties.
In Russia, for instance, LGBTQ organizations were among the first groups targeted under a 2012 “foreign agents” law that enabled the Kremlin to stifle civil society organizations that received foreign funding and engaged in vaguely defined “political activity.” The statute was subsequently used to repress a broader range of human rights activists and journalists. Likewise, in Indonesia, political and religious leaders used a wave of anti-LGBTQ panic beginning in 2016 to justify expanded surveillance and censorship. Authorities cited the supposed threat of LGBTQ “propaganda” and the need to protect public morality as they filtered Internet content, conducted raids on private gatherings, and increased monitoring of social media. These measures quickly broadened into further legal restrictions on sexual expression, women’s rights, and digital freedom.
And in the United States, even though the majority of the public supports laws protecting LGBTQ people from discrimination in jobs, housing, and public spaces, Republican politicians turned transgender rights into a wedge issue during the 2024 election, weaponizing the fears of their constituents to shore up votes. On returning to office this year, U.S. President Donald Trump turned his rhetorical campaign against “gender ideology” into policy, passing executive orders that ban transgender people from serving openly in the military, restrict access to gender-affirming health care for transgender youth, restrict federal funding to schools and universities that allow transgender women and girls to participate in athletics, and requiring all federal agencies to update their policies, programs, and data collection to recognize only male and female classifications based on sex assigned at birth. More than simply take aim at LGBTQ rights, these actions vastly expand federal control over institutions of higher education, health-care providers, and civil rights enforcement agencies.
AN ABSENT AMERICA
The United States historically has played a large role in advancing global LGBTQ rights. Under the Biden administration, for instance, material and rhetorical support for LGBTQ groups abroad was a prominent element of American diplomacy. But Trump has abdicated U.S. leadership in this area, in the process making these rights more fragile around the world.
The Trump administration, for instance, terminated $25 million in foreign assistance programs that included initiatives to support LGBTQ entrepreneurs and provide access to financial tools for LGBTQ people in rural communities—inclusive development practices that contribute to economic growth. President Joe Biden had appointed a special envoy in the U.S. State Department to focus on the human rights of LGBTQ people; in the current administration, not only does that position no longer exist, but Secretary of State Marco Rubio has also proposed a restructuring of the State Department that would diminish the role of the Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights, and Labor. This bureau administers the Global Equality Fund, one of the largest funders of LGBTQ rights advocacy worldwide, and works with U.S. embassies to bring concerns about discriminatory laws or violence to the attention of foreign governments. Under Biden, American diplomats provided political support for local organizations devoted to such advocacy; the Trump administration has banned Pride flags from flying at U.S. embassies and consulates. Furthermore, the United States has withdrawn from the UN Human Rights Council, which has helped advance protections against violence and discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity.
Just as important, the State Department’s annual human rights reports no longer cover LGBTQ issues. These reports document abuses and violations in nearly 200 countries and territories, offering an authoritative assessment of human rights conditions worldwide. Their contents inform American foreign policy decisions, too. The reports provide information that prepares U.S. officials for diplomatic meetings, helps Congress allocate foreign aid budgets, and determines countries’ and foreign leaders’ eligibility for sanctions. Their findings are also used to assess compliance with Leahy laws, which prohibit U.S. funding for foreign military or police units that have committed gross violations of human rights. Additionally, the reports are a valuable source of evidence for advocacy organizations and individuals making asylum claims.
Trump’s policies could be catastrophic for LGBTQ populations. Activists not only stand to lose vital resources—including financial support at a time when many donor governments are reducing levels of foreign assistance—but have also been stripped of political backing by the world’s largest superpower. For illiberal leaders, meanwhile, the Trump administration’s rejection of any kind of support for LGBTQ rights signals that they can enact discriminatory policies and even use violence against these advocacy groups without fear of diplomatic repercussions.
HOLDING THE LINE
The best long-term bet to preserve gains in LGBTQ rights is to enshrine them in national constitutions or comprehensive legislation and sustain broad social campaigns that reaffirm the dignity and citizenship of LGBTQ people. In South Africa, where protections related to sexual orientation were included in the 1996 post-apartheid constitution, these rights have withstood significant political challenges and social opposition. In Spain, Uruguay, and Nordic countries including Denmark, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden, protections have become entrenched over decades as progressive laws on marriage equality, nondiscrimination, and other issues normalize LGBTQ rights within society and across partisan divides. Although constitutional reform is a high bar to clear in many countries, new legal protections can be won in established democracies with strong or growing support for LGBTQ rights, such as Chile, Japan, and the Netherlands, as well as in places with active constitutional courts, such as Brazil, Colombia, and Taiwan. In countries where LGBTQ rights are under threat or expanding protections is not feasible, advocates should focus on building political coalitions to defend existing laws and resist broader authoritarian pressure, and thus make rights gains possible in the future.
Regional institutions can also help activists and policymakers advance LGBTQ rights in challenging domestic political environments. These bodies have a record of effecting change: in Costa Rica, for instance, the government changed the country’s laws to allow same-sex marriage, despite resistance from conservative political and religious groups, on receiving an advisory opinion from the Inter-American Court of Human Rights in 2017 that required countries in the region offer legal recognition for same-sex couples. Likewise, the European Union’s recognition of LGBTQ rights enabled activists in Hungary and Poland to call on the European Commission to penalize their governments for adopting discriminatory measures. The threat of losing EU funds, together with local opposition, pushed many of the nearly 100 municipalities in Poland that declared themselves “LGBTQ-free zones” in 2019 and 2020 to rescind those resolutions. Replicating these successes may not always be possible in countries experiencing democratic erosion. By strengthening LGBTQ rights within international legal and human rights institutions, however, advocates can ensure that they have a powerful lever to pull when an opportunity for policy change arises.
Trump’s policies could be catastrophic for LGBTQ populations.
Strategies to prevent rollbacks of LGBTQ rights must also be part of broader efforts at democratic resistance. To expand the constituencies with stakes in maintaining these protections and fortify the democratic institutions that support them, activists should build cross-movement coalitions that link LGBTQ rights to other dimensions of democratic life, such as economic development, anticorruption efforts, and measures to foster gender equality. The potential for such organizing was on clear display last month in Hungary, where more than 100,000 people showed up for the Pride parade in Budapest despite the government’s ban.
Advocacy groups need to develop new funding mechanisms, too, to limit their dependence on the U.S. government and others that are cutting back on foreign assistance. They should turn in particular to private donors, making use of novel forms of investment such as social impact bonds, and to friendly governments that are looking to support causes related to democratic resilience. The United States’ global retrenchment on LGBTQ issues also creates an opening for local activists to push back on claims in many countries that such rights are foreign or neocolonial impositions. The wider risk of a backlash to increasing LGBTQ visibility is not going away. But advocates should try to reduce the opposition to progress by framing their calls for rights in terms of universal human dignity and shared values, and by highlighting the connections between LGBTQ issues and the liberty and well-being of everyone—making it harder for opponents to demonize and isolate LGBTQ communities as threats to “traditional” society.
Resurgent authoritarianism and sophisticated opposition movements pose a growing threat to recent gains in LGBTQ rights. The policymakers and activists striving to protect those rights must do what they can to build up institutional safeguards that can withstand this wave of illiberal pressure. As democratic backsliding accelerates worldwide, there is no time to waste.
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Great Job Ari Shaw & the Team @ FA RSS Source link for sharing this story.