Zum Gedenken an Pedro Lemebel: Manifesto.

Pedro Lemebel war ein chilenischer Schriftsteller, Essayist, Lyriker, Theatermacher und vor allem eines: Aktivist. Sein Werk kam mit seinem Tod, gerade die 60 überschritten, zu einem viel zu frühen Ende. Lemebel gehört zu den provokantesten und interessantesten schwulen Intellektuellen des 20. Jahrhunderts. Als Widerstandskämpfer war er jahrelang im Untergrund der chilenischen Diktatur aktiv, niemals Müde Homophobie und Faschismus in die Eier zu treten. Seine Sprache zeugt von einer reflektierten und selbstbewussten Position, die viele andere Schriftsteller vermissen lassen, von einer Courage, die ihn zu einer echten Ikone des Widerstands macht. Es ist wichtig, dass wir uns der globalen Geschichte der Diskriminierung und Unterdrückung bewusst werden, die sich allzu oft mit anderen Ideologien verschränkt. Lemebel stand wie kaum ein anderer für unerschütterlichen Trotz und Aktivismus. Hier ein Manifest aus Lemebels Feder, öffentlich vorgetragen zum ersten Mal im Jahr 1986, noch unter dem gerade zusammenbrechenden Regime von Pinochet.

Manifesto (I speak for my difference)

I’m not Pasolini asking for explanations
I’m not Ginsberg expelled from Cuba
I’m not a fag in a poet costume
I don’t need a costume
Here’s my face
I speak for my difference
I’m defending what I am
And I’m not that weird
Injustice pisses me off
And I suspect from this democratic cueca*
But don’t you talk to me about the proletariat
Because being poor and faggot is worse
One must be acid to stand it
It’s giving a rodeo to the corner machos
It’s a father who hates you
Because his son plays for the other team
It’s having a mother with the hands burned by cleaning products
Hands grown old of being clean
A mother who slept you when you were sick
Because of bad behaviors
Because of bad luck
Like dictatorship
Worse than dictatorship
Because dictatorship shall pass
And then comes democracy
And right behind it comes socialism
And then?
What will they do with us, comrade?
Will they bind our braids in bundles?
With a cuban AIDS-asylum as destiny?
Will they put us in a train with destiny to nowhere?
Like the boat of the general Ibañez**
Where we learn how to swim
But no-one came to the coast
That’s why Valparaíso turned off his red lights
That’s why the brothels
Gave black tears
To the fags who got eaten by crabs
This year, the Human Rights Commission
does not remember
That’s why, comrade, I ask you
Does it still exist the siberian train
of the reactionary propaganda?
That train which runs at your very eyes
When my voice becomes too sweet
And you?
What will you do with that memory when we were kids
Masturbating each other and other things
In the holidays at Cartagena?
Will the future be in black and white?
The time in working nights and days
without any ambiguity?
Will there not be some fag at some corner
mentally disturbing the future of his new man?
Will the flags of our free homeland
let us embroider birds?
I left the machine-gun for you
You have cold blood
And it’s not fear
The fear was slowly going
Because of catching knives
In the sexual cellars I’ve been to
And don’t you feel offended
If I talk about these things
And look at your package
I’m not a hypocrite
Don’t women’s tits
make your sight go down?
Don’t you believe
that alone in the mountains
we couldn’t come up with something?
Even if you hate me afterwards
Because of corrupting your revolutionary life
Are you scared of your life getting homosexualized?
And I’m not talking about of shoving it up and off
And just shoving it up and off
I’m talking about tenderness, comrade
You don’t know
How difficult it is to find love
In these conditions
You don’t know
What is to carry with this leprosy
People keep their distance
People understand and say:
He’s a fag, but he writes good
He’s a fag, but he’s a good friend
Super-nice
I’m not super nice
I accept the world
Without asking for that
But they laugh anyway
I have laughter scars in my back
You believe that I think with my ass
And at the first grilling*** from the CNI****
I was spitting everything off
You don’t know about manhood
I never learnt it in any headquarter
I learnt my manhood from the night
Behind a post
That manhood that you brag about
Was shoved up to you in the regiment
A murderer soldier
One of those is still in the power
I didn’t receive my manhood from the party
Because I was rejected with laughter
Several times
I learnt my manhood by participating
In the hard times of those years
And they laugh at my faggot voice
Screaming: it will fall down, it will fall down!
And even though you scream like a man
You haven’t succeed that he goes
My manhood was the gag
It wasn’t going to the stadion
And punching because of a football team
Football is another covered homosexuality
Like boxing, politics, and wine
My manhood was biting the jokes
Eating rage to not kill everyone
My manhood is accept myself as different
To be coward is way harder
I don’t offer the other face-cheek
I offer my ass, comrade
And that’s my shame
My manhood waits patiently
For the machos to grow old
Because in these times
The left-wing sells his flaccid ass
In the parliament
My manhood was hard
That’s why I don’t go this train
Without knowing where it goes
I’m not gonna change because of the marxism
Which rejected me so many times
I don’t need to change
I’m more subversive than you
I’m not gonna change only
Because of rich and poor
Go to someone else with that tale
Also not because capitalism is unfair
In New York faggots kiss each other in the street
But I leave that part to you
Who is so interested in
not letting revolution to get completely rotten
I give this message to you
And it’s not for me
I’m old
And your utopia is for future generations
There’s so many who are gonna be born
With a broken wing
And I want them to fly, comrade
That your revolution
Gives them a piece of red sky
So they can fly.

*chilean national dance
**chilean dictator who shot a boat with hundreds of homosexuals while still in the sea.
***torture technique: an electrified grill
**** Pinochet’s secret police

This text was read as an intervention in a political public ceremony of the left-wings chilean parties in September 1986, in Santiago de Chile. The military dictatorship of Pinochet will be over 4 years afterwards.

//

Übersetzung: Miguel Jara Yurazeck

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