Trans icons Marsha P. Johnson (left) and Sylvia Rivera (right) at the 1973 Christopher Street Liberation Day March. Both dedicated their lives to social justice (Image: Leonard Fink)

In the UK, like elsewhere in the world, LGBTQ+ activism existed long before Stonewall. For example the Homosexual Law Reform Society, founded by a group of intellectuals in 1958, campaigned for the decriminalisation of relationships between men. But it was the 1970s that first saw the emergence of a loud and proud street movement for queer liberation.

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The Gay Liberation Front UK (GLF), which would go on to organise Britain’s first Pride, was formed in 1970 at LSE. While its demands included the end of discrimination against gay people in the law (such as the unequal age of consent), its ambitions didn’t end there. Rather than seeking to integrate gay people and same-sex couples into a straight society, it wanted to transform it - taking aim at the patriarchal family model, gender stereotypes and even the organisation of work under capitalism.

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The UK’s first official Gay Pride rally took place in London on 1 July 1972. It was a grassroots event, organised with no corporate sponsors or big media endorsement. There was no doubt whatsoever about whether or not it was a protest.

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Starting relatively small, the demonstrations grew over the years, finding new locations and attracting supporters from around the country - some of them less obvious than others. Most famously, the 1985 London Pride parade was led by striking miners from South Wales. The story of the unexpected alliance of two groups oppressed under Thatcher was, of course, immortalised by the 2014 film and instant classic 'Pride'.

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The AIDS epidemic spurred another wave of radical queer organising. In the US, in response to the Reagan administration’s scandalous inaction on HIV/AIDS, ACT UP was set up in New York City and started a mass campaign of civil disobedience. Whether chaining themselves to the VIP balcony of the New York Stock Exchange or staging “die ins” (blocking traffic by lying down on the ground) and shutting down the Food and Drug Administration, ACT UP weren’t afraid to cause disruption. Outside of New York, ACT UP members were no less bold: in Washington D.C., for instance, activists wrapped the house of homophobic Senator Jesse Helms in a giant condom. The campaign spread around the world, including to the UK, where campaigners marched on Westminster, targeted the Daily Telegraph's offices and protested in front of Pentonville against the failure to protect prisoners from the virus.

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ACT UP is often described as one of the most successful social movements in contemporary history. Its creative and controversial actions raised awareness and transformed the conversation around HIV/AIDS - but not just that. The group was invited to meetings with decision-makers, influenced the way new drugs were approved, changed the definition of AIDS to include symptoms specific to women and ensured people assigned female at birth weren’t excluded from drug trials. Without a doubt, ACT UP’s campaigns saved many thousands of lives worldwide. They achieved this not by asking nicely, but by making themselves impossible to ignore.

These are just a few of the many stories of disruptive queer activism that changed the course of history and opened the door to social progress. In 2022 Britain, same-sex relationships enjoy legal equality, overt discrimination is banned by the law and, thanks to medical advances, HIV is no longer a death sentence. This doesn’t mean, however, that there is no longer any need for radical queer organising. Despite attempts to co-opt it by corporations, LGBTQ+ liberation remains intrinsically linked with the liberation of the working class.

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LGBTQ+ people rejected by their families still face an increased risk of homelessness. Because of the underfunding of NHS services, trans people often wait years for their first appointment at a gender identity clinic. TUC research found that nearly 7 out of 10 LGBTQ+ people have experienced sexual harassment at work - and 1 in 3 employers openly say they wouldn’t hire a trans person. The right to decent housing and healthcare, freedom from poverty and protections at work are socialist issues - but they are LGBTQ+ issues, too. That’s why it’s so absurd and insulting when many on the right - and even some in the labour movement - try to portray LGBTQ+ activism as alien and irrelevant to the working class.

The working class is gay, straight, bi, cis and trans. It’s also international. Around the world, our queer siblings are still criminalised, imprisoned and even executed for being who they are. The debate surrounding the World Cup in Qatar served as a reminder that same-sex relationships are still illegal in more than 60 countries, and state-sanctioned homophobia continues to thrive in many more.

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The situation is no easier for those attempting to escape persecution. LGBTQ+ asylum seekers are routinely mistreated by the Home Office, forced to “prove” their sexuality, retraumatised by detention and deportation or denied safe routes to the UK in the first place. Of those trying to reach Britain in small boats, thousands come from countries like Afghanistan or Iran, where just existing as a queer person is a risk to life. Rather than being welcomed and protected, they’re met with vilification and detained in conditions that violate human dignity.