TABLE OF CONTENTS Acknowledgements Introduction 3 Melinda Chateauvert Part I Theory and Sexuality Is Sexuality the End of Utopia? 8 Francis Ronsin (France) The Absent Foucault: Bulgarian (Mis)uses 13 Stanimir Panayotov (Bulgaria) Mêmeté and the Critique of Sexual Difference: On Monique Wittig=s Deconstruction of the Symbolic Order and the Site of the Neuter 23 J. Edgar Bauer (Germany) Part II Sexual Politics in the East Constructing a Narrative: The History of Homosexuality in Poland 32 John Stanley (Canada) Invading Law and Public Space? The Situation of LGBT Persons in Poland 51 Patrycja Pogodzinska (Poland) The ASexual Revolution@ in Bulgarian Socialism 59 Karin Taylor (Austria) The LGBT Movement in Bulgaria 75 Monika Pisankaneva (Bulgaria) Melting the Iron Curtain: the Beginnings of the LGBT Movement in Slovenia 83 Bogdan Lešnik (Slovenia) New Social Movements in Turkey: Kaos GL as a Sexual Identity Organization 94 Mustafa Kemal Coskun and Tuba Ozkan (Turkey) Feminism and its Impact on a Couple=s Life 105 Maria Nicoleta Turliuc (Romania) 1 Part III Sexual Politics in the West The Connection Between the Squatter, Queer and Alterglobalization Movement: The Many Diversities of Multiculturalism 117 Saskia Poldervaart (The Netherlands) The Demise of Gay and Lesbian Radicalism in the Netherlands 117 Gert Hekma (The Netherlands) Antiracist Queer Politics: a Gramscian Approach 142 Nancy Wagenknecht (Germany) Walking the Streets: The U.S. Prostitution Rights Movement from An International Perspective 153 Antonia Levy (Germany) Respectability, Sexuality and Citizenship: Comparing the U.S. Civil Rights and Gay Rights Movements 164 Melinda Chateauvert (United States) 2 INTRODUCTION Melinda Chateauvert1* The essays in this anthology have been written by scholars from across Europe and North America for the sixth meeting of the Socialism and Sexuality network in October 2004. The conference, hosted by the Department of Philosophy of the University of Sofia, was the first network meeting in Eastern Europe. The geographical expansion brought together scholars and topics from former Communist countries as well as western Europe and North American under the theme, “New Social Movements and Sexuality.” Most of the presenters have con- tributed their papers to this book; some scholars were unable to attend, but shared their work prior to the conference. The geographical diversity of conference participants is also reflected in the essays. During the warm, late-summer days in Bulgaria’s capital, panel presentations ranged from theoretical issues in sexual politics to the history of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgen- der (LGBT) activism in Europe to comparisons of various radical social movements since the 1980s. As the many presentations focusing on Eastern Europe showed, the sexual liberation and LGBT movements have, for the most part, been excluded from public discourse in many of those countries, even after the enormous political and social changes of the 1990s. Conse- quently, the lively and engaging discussions among participants soon focused on the reasons for this absence and possible ways to bring LGBT issues to public attention and on the political agenda, frequently citing movements in the West as examples. Leaping beyond the confines of the conference, these issues were taken up by Bulgaria’s newly founded LGBT organization, Queer Bulgaria.a Conference organizer Monika Pisankaneva and University of Amsterdam at- tendee Gert Hekma subsequently appeared on Bulgaria Public TV, drawing national attention to the conference and its theme. The merging of scholarship and activism was not unexpected; previous meetings of the Socialism and Sexuality network have deliberately explored the connections between politi- cal discourse and scholarship. Founded by Francis Ronsin of the University of Burgundy and other scholars associated with the Institute of Contemporary History in Dijon as well as the International Institute of Social History in Amsterdam, the “SocandSex” network has annu- ally held conferences since 1999, starting with its first meeting in Ghent in conjunction with the Archives and Museum of the Socialist Worker’s Movement conference on “Gender and Class.” The following year, the International Institute of Social History in Amsterdam hosted the second conference on the topic of “Free Love and the Labor Movement” which considered the sexual ideologies of anarchist feminists, individualist socialists, anarcho-syndicalists, and utopian socialists in Europe. The third conference, “Labor Organizations and Sexuality,” held in October 2001, was organized by the Institute of Contemporary History at the University of Burgundy in Dijon to explore the sexual politics of Western labor organizations in the last two centuries. It was followed by the first North American meeting on the theme “Sexuality and Millennialism,” hosted by the Center for Millennial Studies at Boston University in April 2003 which considered movements whose ideologies held that the liberation of the body and its desires leads to spiritual redemption and the regeneration of society. The fifth conference on the theme “The Past and Present of Radical Sexual Politics,” was held in 2004, at the University of Amsterdam, organized by Gert Hekma and Saskia Poldervaart – who have both contributed to this volume. Thus, in Sofia, scholars from the East and West used an interdisciplinary ap- 1 *With the assistance of Antonia Levy. 3 proach in the study of radical social movements and their ideologies in an effort to understand the problems faced by contemporary activists. As conference convener, Monika Pisankaneva wisely foresaw that a forum focusing on Eastern Europe would encourage participants to examine the historical and ongoing tensions over sexuality and citizenship. Certainly the requirements for joining the European Union promises to have a significant impact on sexual and gender politics in Poland, as Patrycja Pogodzinska demonstrates in her analysis of laws prohibiting discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation. Similarly, gay and lesbian activists in Bulgaria, Slovenia and Turkey are hopeful that EU-mandated anti-discrimination laws will bring new freedoms for the GLBT communities in their countries. Many of the essays here examine the emergence of national GLBT movements in the East since the collapse of the Soviet Union. For westerners, the growing pains of these new social movements are reminders of the late 1960’s and early 1970’s in the U.K., the Netherlands, and the United States. The Stonewall Riots of 1969 have assumed a worldwide significance, repre- senting a halcyon moment of gay identity and political struggle that gay activists in Eastern Europe yearn to experience in Sofia, Krakow and Istanbul. Almost forty years later, activists in the west have perhaps forgotten the difficulties of establishing and sustaining new LGBT organizations, and the debates over protest strategies, the constant shifts in leadership and political alliances (which were sometimes based on current or former sex partners), even the frightening thrill of publicly marching in the first gay pride parade, or dancing all night at the city’s first gay club. But for activists in Eastern Europe, these are still new experiences. Even as they struggle to create community and found organizations, activists realize that “out” communities are more likely to experience violence and harassment. Justifiable fears for personal safety may explain why some people who identify as gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgendered appear to be active only in “cyberspace” and rarely venture into public space, as Pisankaneva notes in her paper on the LGBT movement in Bulgaria. Bogdan LeÓnik reminds us of the deadlier consequences of public visibility in recounting the events that led to the civil war in the former Yugoslavia. Bosnian and Serbian nationalists railed against “decadent” Slovenian liberalism, citing in particular a gay and lesbian film festival being organised in Ljubljana as a “worldwide congress of homosexuals.” As historian George Mosse showed many years ago in his study of German nationalism at the turn of the twentieth century, in times of upheaval, nationalist assertions of sexual immorality represent a quest for stability and com- munity. (Mosse 1985) Recent history reminds us that the visibility of gay men, lesbians and transgendered persons in public spaces can provoke a “sex panic” for which ethnic and reli- gious minorities may be blamed. The panic over public displays of sexuality can backfire in other ways too. The famous Dutch tolerance for religious fugitives has been challenged by gays and lesbians who blame the growing conservatism regarding sex and sexuality on the immigrant Muslim population. Gert Hekma questions the optimism with which many people view the sexual openness of the Netherlands, noting in his survey of recent developments the shifts away from frank and honest acknowledgment of human sexual behavior. Perhaps more disconcerting is that some GLBT leaders voice support for the policing of public displays of queer sexuality. In their em- brace of “respectability,” Melinda Chateauvert compares the strategies of today’s GLBT move- ment in the U.S. to the African American civil rights movement of the 1950s, noting that both movements base their rights claims on notions of citizenship as a fixed, “biological” identity. As a result, the GLBT movement has focused on marriage, employment rights and other dis- crimination issues, while distancing itself from queers whose public cruising, paid sex, and other consensual sexual acts do not resemble bourgeois, monogamous heterosexuality. For some Dutch political activists, however, transgressive sexuality and creative disorder 4 are the goals, argues Saskia Poldervaardt in her examination of the squatter, alterglobalization, and queer rights movements. By inverting bourgeois norms about living spaces, capitalist eco- nomic transactions, and modern gender and sexual norms, disparate groups of people seek to make “another world” possible. Indeed, while the scholars of the West do not say so, they seem to look eastward for alternate models of political activism that challenge sexual and gender stereotypes under repressive regimes. Certainly the popularity of Jefferson Mays’ one-man play, “I Am My Own Wife” about the life of Charlotte von Mahlsdorf, a transgendered woman who lived through both the Nazi regime and the Soviet-style communism of East Berlin, is an indication of this orientalist search.b In the east’s desire to recreate a Stonewall uprising, Eastern scholars’ are engaged in close, worshipful readings of Foucault, Witting and even Butler for clues about how to organize a prairie fire of political queer consciousness. The historical particularity of the 1970s in France and Northern America however, shared a set of political and social conditions (against the backdrop of the Cold War) that cannot be re-created in the post-Communist Eastern bloc. Moreover, as these papers make clear, the weak laws prohibiting discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation are not the result of engaged political struggle and public dialogue: they are imposed from the outside, practically concessions forced upon poorer countries who are desperate to join the EU. Earlier laws guaranteeing women’s equality had little impact on the daily lives of ordinary women in the east. Karin Taylor’s analysis of women’s sexuality and gender propaganda in Communist Bulgaria demonstrates the disconnect between formal legal equality and obstacles to women’s self-determination. Even the creation of organizations for the purpose of promoting LGBT solidarity through the new social movements in Slovenia, Turkey and Bulgaria, is dependent upon government subventions or other outside funding for their survival. Under the laissez-faire economic poli- cies of the U.S. and Canada, governments do not directly fund democratic citizens’ organiza- tions, and indeed, members of such groups would wisely question government funding offers as efforts to co-opt their work and control their speech. Reviewing the differences between the LGBT movements in the east and west, we are re- minded here of the metaphor of geological layers of sentiment suggested by subaltern scien- tist and scholar Susantha Goonatilake, which he uses to describe petrified layers of scientific knowledge in Asia. (Goonatilake, 1998) Chipping away at the frameworks used in classrooms in the East, he finds that scholars continued to teach what they had learned in graduate school decades ago in their student days in the imperial capitals of Europe. These petrified frame- works had long ago been discarded at Cambridge, Oxford, Harvard, and the Sorbonne where scholars continuously engaged in dialogue, the sharing of information and participation in popular cultures that also informed the development of scientific discourse.c Goonatilake does not identify a similar phenomenon in the eastern bloc, but the alumni of Moscow University clearly dictated the approved methodologies and modes of inquiry for scholars in sciences and humanities until the early 1990s. That legacy is still apparent, and as young queer theorists such as Stanimir Panatov in this volume struggle to read Foucault outside of earlier guidelines. Technology and cheap airfares have facilitated challenges to those earlier guidelines. At speeds unanticipated even a decade ago, the Internet encourages new dialogues on previously forbidden sexual subjects. For LGBT people and advocates of sexual freedom, the Internet has facilitated new friendships, enlarged social networks and encouraged political activism. In places where hostility toward non-normative sexuality can engender queer-bashings, street harassment and criminal arrest (which includes places in the United States as well as Eastern and Western Europe) the Internet can grant a degree of safety and sexual privacy. In addi- tion, low-cost air travel has made it possible to attend huge events such as EuroPride, the Gay Games, the Miami White Party and International Mr. Leather possible. Even smaller networks 5 of like-minded people, like the SocandSex scholars, depend on the Internet and cheap interna- tional travel to meet, share papers and exchange ideas. As important as these east-west conversations are for critiquing contemporary socialist and radical sex movements, subaltern scholars warn against the colonial’s habit of collaps- ing a heterogenous “other” into an essentialist, collective identity. (Goonatilake, 1998; Spivak, 1988) Doing so, in effect, resurrects the Berlin Wall, potentially recreating simplistic analyses dividing the “West” and “East.” For activists, heeding this warning demands that we recognize and encourage indigenous forms of protest and resistance, and that we seek culturally-specific movement centers from which we can develop the strategic resources needed for activism. (Morris, 1984) The challenge for scholars who study movements is equally difficult. The pa- pers of Mustafa Kemal Coskun and Tuba Ozkan, and of Bogdan LeÓnik both suggest that the emergence of gay and lesbian activism in Turkey and Slovenia can not be fully explained using Western analytical frameworks. These contortions of new social movement theory hint that it might be time to reconsider how culture, resistance, and activism fuse into movements for social change, particularly as activists interrogate and reconfigure matters of “identity,” “sexu- ality,” “gender,” “race,” and “ethnicity.” “Sexuality” has various meanings in these papers and for movement activists. “Sexuality” often refers to sexual identity, or to sexual orientation or sexual preference; these are lawmak- ers’ terms referring to people who identify as gay men, lesbians or bisexuals (and in some cases, transgendered people). Pogodzinska discusses the potential effects of banning discrimination on the basis of “sexual orientation” as one of the obligations of EU membership, which she interprets as discrimination against homosexuals as a fixed category of identity. In contrast, “sexual preference” is a much broader term that implies sexual choice rather than biological determinism; it is a term that can include a range of alternative sexual behaviors and possibly gender identities. (See for example, Guadio, 1988) For activists, the distinction between “orientation” and “preference” presents a critical stra- tegic choice. Organizations that emphasize sexual orientation seem likely to choose ideological arguments that reinforce identity politics, arguing in favor of civil protections for GLBT per- sons who cannot change their sexuality.d An emphasis on “sexual preference,” however, has the potential to shift the legal burden to the State, by challenging laws that criminalize homosex and other non-procreative sexual acts, including sex work and public sex. The decriminalization of sexuality represents the next goal for GLBT and radical sex activ- ists. It will require a different ideological framework than the identity-based approach used by many GLBT organizations. A human rights framework goes beyond seeking legal protections for specific citizens based on their (biological) identities, and seeks to affirm the right to sex, the right to pursue pleasure. Hekma proposes that activism focus on sexual citizenship, as- serting that we all have sexual rights as well as sexual responsibilities. The pursuit of pleasure comes with the obligation of consent. In our view, people have the right to enjoy their bodies and the right to bodily integrity; “my body is my own, ”declares African American activist Robin Stone. (Stone, 2005) Stone’s declaration of self-determination is echoed by sex worker activists and the squatter movement, Levy and Poldervaart describe in their papers. Sexual citizenship helps to challenge the false dichotomy between “public” and “private” sex. The State does not recognize the (sexual) privacy for those who are not citizens. The sex- ual acts of non-citizens and second-class citizens are often policed more heavily than those with full citizenship privileges. It is a given that queer, female, immigrant and impoverished populations face a variety of legal restrictions regarding sexual behavior and procreation that heterosexual, married men do not face. Restrictions against the adoption of children by gay or lesbian parents, prohibitions against the artificial insemination of unmarried women, denial of social welfare benefits to the children of immigrants or guest workers, requiring welfare 6 recipients to use birth control, leveling rape charges in cases involving consensual inter-racial or inter-ethnic sexual relations, the refusal to issue tourist visas to sex workers and HIV-posi- tive persons, even blaming race riots and civil unrest on non-nuclear family arrangements,e are examples of the ways the State punishes the undesirable sexual behaviors of second class citizens and residents. Sexual citizenship may not eliminate all of these prejudicial restrictions, but the political struggle to expand the definition of human rights to include sexual rights will be provocative. In this, as SocandSex founder Francis Ronsin suggests in the opening essay of this volume, it cannot be wrong to be utopian in our outlook. Bibliography: [Frazier, E. Franklin] The Complete Report of Mayor LaGuardia’s Commission on the Harlem Riot of March 19, 1935 (1936; reprint: New York: Arno Press, 1969) Guadio, Rudolf P., “Male Lesbians and Other Queer Notions in Hausa,” from Boy-Wives and Female Hus- bands: Studies of African Homosexualities, Stephen O. Murray and Will Roscoe, eds. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1998) pp 115-128. Morris, Aldon D., The origins of the civil rights movement: Black communities organizing for change (New York : Free Press ; London: Collier Macmillan, 1984) Mosse, George L., Nationalism and sexuality: respectability and abnormal sexuality in modern Europe (New York : H. Fertig, 1985) Report of the National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders, (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, March 1, 1968) Goonatilake, Susantha, Toward a global science: mining civilizational knowledge, (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1998) Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty, “Can the Subaltern Speak?” in Cary Nelson and Lawrence Grossberg, eds., Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1988), pp. 271-313. Stone, Robin D., No Secrets No Lies: How Black Families Can Heal from Sexual Abuse, (New York: Broad- way Books, 2005) Notes: a. http://www.queer-bulgaria.org b. For more information, http://www.iammyownwife.com. c. I am oversimplifying a much larger and complex argument. It is also worthwhile to note that Goonatilake views globalization positively as it has created new centers of scientific knowledge with the rise of China, India and Japan. d. Critics of the biological determinative aspects of this debate have been particularly fierce in their denun- ciations because they believe that identifying a genetic marker for homosexuality could result in new form of scientific racism; some go so far as to suggest that homophobes might use genetics to identify and systematically eliminate homosexuals, evoking the Holocaust. At the same time, homophobic and fundamentalist religious activists in the U.S. attack the concept of “sexual preference,” arguing that since sexuality is culturally constructed, “reparative” or “conversion therapy” can eliminate homo- sexual tendencies. See also Francis Ronsin’s discussion of “scientism” in this volume. e. According to government reports issued after the Harlem (New York City) riot of 1935, and the Kerner Commission report of 1968, one cause of the race riots was the unnatural, “matriarchal” structure of African American families. ([Frazier], 1935; National Advisory Commission on Civil Disorders, 1968) 7 IS SEXUALITY THE END OF UTOPIA? Francis Ronsin I - The trap of Utopia My frequent use of the term-“utopia” has always posed problems that can basically be sum- marized under the two sets of ideas: 1) I was inevitably considered a “utopian” dreamer when I sometimes called for a great –or even a small – modification of the social order that appeared logical and necessary to me. Karl Mannheim knew these same setbacks when he wrote: “Whenever an idea is labeled utopian it is usually by a representative of an epoch that has already passed.”1 The pejorative tone people used to announce this label bothered me because it implied my exclusion from ongoing “serious” discussions. My critics employ the ordinary definition of the term “Utopia,” which suggests imagining a harmonious, but unrealizable, society. This definition has forced me to accept, against my wishes and under penalty of ostracism, their vision of a world built on abstractions. It is fine to show agreement and desire to improve so- ciety, but apparently it is nonsense to want to thoughtfully criticize and deconstruct it. My critics give the impression that they hold the most eccentric set of assumptions as “Truth”: a democratic republic, leaders concerned about the common interest, workers blos- soming under a just wage-earning system, even humanity governed by divine providence. But this changed nothing: they could talk seriously among themselves, but not to me, the utopian dreamer! 2) I am from a generation that could choose among numerous types of socialism, at least provisionally. We were permitted to choose “scientific socialism” – although this choice rou- tinely provoked condescension because it deviated from our other choice, “utopian socialism” which itself had happily been liberated from progressive opinion. May I confess here that I did not see what was particularly scientific in Marxism? Fortunately, I was already an expe- rienced student: I recognized that the invocation of science was like the invocation of God: a frequently used method to squash free-thinking. Since then, I have visited most of the countries that achieved “real socialism.” There I did not see the gulags or anything that was exceptionally revolting, but rather problems such as the aggregation of trams with hundreds of “dictators” trying to board them at five o’clock in the morning! Some years ago, “real socialism” collapsed. “Scientific socialism,” the dictatorship of the proletariat, was based, in fact, largely on ill-fated utopias. Most of these former Marxists scorned the remaining socialists who had not lost their earlier convictions. In the decades since socialism’s collapse, people have employed the term “utopian” to dis- miss critical observations on the class state whose righteousness and power is an article of faith. It is this sense of utopia that the critics sincerely believed in a society constructed on the most artificial of ideological bases. With the exception of Thomas More, thoughtful people have never claimed to be utopianists. All things considered, the full value of my first schoolbook lesson in philosophy “He who says it, is it!” became particularly appropriate in the study of the history of ideas of sexuality. II. Errors of Eros The distinction between licit and illicit sexual practices was one of the essential concerns of the modern societies. The family was “the basic unit of society” and it frequently regarded this 8 distinction as the fundamental question for its survival. In canon law, which largely fathered French law until the Revolution, sins are “the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these: Adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness,” (Gal., V, 19). Thus, the failure to repent sins of corruption of a divine creature results in exclu- sion from the community of God’s children, who are created in his image and without sin. It is then, impossible for the Church – for whom marriage is indissoluble – to accept laws that permit individuals to divorce, to remarry, or to live together openly in defiance of God’s law. This is clearly written in the books by undisputed authorities, and their interpretation of God’s laws cannot be challenged. May I suggest that the Catholic vision of the world looks very utopian? Those who support the legalization of divorce have, from the day before the Revolution, observed these truths about marriage: it is an institution of arranged marriages, of frequent adultery and spousal abuse, of declining mutual interest and lost love. In the interest of individuals and of society, realistic marriage and divorce laws are needed. The Republic authorized divorce and the Restoration forbade it again. In the repeated con- frontations that followed, opponents of divorce ceased condemning it as a violation of Cathol- icism and began to oppose it as a liberal travesty. They ceased invoking God and called upon another unique and immaterial entity: Morality.-Society and law are the means of insuring the reign of the morality. As Baron d’Holbach dreamed, theocracy succeeded éthocratie.2 The list of immoral sexual behaviors was almost identical to the list of sins. There was also an identical list attacking Nature, the new idol of authority. As d’Holbach declaimed, “O Nature, sovereign of all beings! and ye, her adorable daughters, Virtue, Reason, and Truth! remain for ever our only Divinities.”3 Nature abhors not only a vacuum, it abhors all those who are devoted to “unnatural” acts. Voltaire, who had some responsibility constitution of natural rights but whose humor saves him from ridicule, perfectly illustrated the scientific phenomenon of evolution in his entry on “Onan, onanism” in his Philosophical Dictionary: “Notice that among the species, men and monkeys are the only ones that fail in this defect against the wishes of the nature.”4 Defense of the national interest was another bit of nonsense increasingly associated with secular morality. Thus néo-Malthusian propaganda advocating birth control has been pell- mell accused of offending God, for being contrary to Nature, for violating etiquette, and for threatening the economic development and military power of France. Natalism marshaled sexuality. But am I not confusing ideology with Utopia? Karl Mannheim, cited earlier, used the two terms as powerful opposites: Only those orientations transcending reality will be referred to by us as utopian which, when they pass over into conduct, tend to shatter, either partially or wholly, the order of things prevailing at the time. By limiting the meaning of the term ‘utopia’ to that type of ori- entation which transcends reality and which at the same time breaks the bonds of the existing order, a distinction is set up between the utopian and the ideological states of mind.5 In Jean-Christophe, Romain Rolland ignores the Marxist engagement arising from this dis- tinction, in writing about “‘Utopias’ à la française’: paix universelle, fraternité, progrès paci- fique, droits de l’homme, égalité naturelle.”6 Furthermore, the ruling class is not in accord with the existing order – or, rather, the existing disorder – on matters of sexuality. While others want to abolish capitalism, the objective of this group is to eliminate sin, vice, and unnatural perversions: their Utopia would establish good manners! Scientism will achieve what sermons, stakes and prisons, have not. Employing science to explain everything, to rule over everything, to regulate everything, the state gains the allegiance of both its defenders and enemies who believe in science. 9 Scientism, which seeks a rational explanation for the causes of physical and human phe- nomena, became the dominant evidence of utopia in the nineteenth century. The Lamarck- ian classifications of invertebrate life forms influenced the classification of mental illnesses, deviant behaviors and perversions, culminating in the major works of von Krafft-Ebing and Havelock Ellis. Krafft-Ebing’s personality and work illustrate remarkably the principal aspects of scientism in the field of sexology. He was a psychiatrist who studied the “perverse” that he observed in mental patients. He practiced as forensic surgeon; the State criminalized the behaviors he described, and he then testified for the State in prosecuting sexual behaviors. The title of his main work, republished several times, Psychopathia sexualis ( 1886 ), is in Latin. Latin, the language of science, is also the language of clerics who used the same methods to protect the common people from stories of increasing sexual debauchery told in their confessionals. Such precautions were quite an illusory; Krafft-Ebing taught little to brothel madams, while authors exploited these erudite treatises to satisfy the tastes of their readers.7 The Marquis de Sade was long dead and Sacher-Masoch’s Venus in Furs, appeared in 1870, well before Krafft-Ebing coined the terms “sadism” and “masochism.” To construct an accurate natural history of perversions look, for example, at the defini- tion provided in the electronic version of Robert (version 1.4, 1985): “Sexual perversion: any tendency to look for sexual satisfaction otherwise that by ‘normal’ sex act, defined as coupling up with a person of the opposite sex, to obtain the orgasm by genital penetration. Bestiality (or zoophilia), exhibitionism, fetishism, homosexuality, masochism, necrophilia, pedophilia, sadism, voyeurism.” The list is too short!8 In spite of the invocation of God, nature, justice and science, evil has not been rooted out. Some say its influence has only grown. Obviously, such attempts were utopian! III End of Utopia? There was a time when physics and philosophy tended toward consideration of unpre- dictable and erratic phenomena in which 1+1 equaled only 2. The twentieth century saw a succession of attacks against the well-fed modern Cartesianism that was the principal food of Utopia. Chaos theory, cubism, surrealism, the experimental music of John Cage, decon- structionism, avant-gardism – made the old debate over the sex-gender of angels obsolete. It is however very difficult to say at what point and to what measure those authors who radically transformed the philosophical and scientific to sexual questions – Freud, Magnus Hirschfeld, Michel Foucault, Kate Millet, Judith Butler – to quote only a few names – influenced public opinion. The second half of the twentieth century saw the end of the old clichés that had once supported a secular vision of a perfect sexual order. In 1953, Harry Benjamin defended himself and his legitimacy before the Academy of Med- icine of New York. In carefully limited cases, he was permitted to respond to the requests of transsexuals for surgical operation. The first public operation took place that same year in Denmark. A border, believed impassable, fell. The fight for the freedom of women to control their fertility – without regard for divine will nor nature – is one of the main factors in the destruction of an institutionalized ideal sexual model. The Neuwirth law of 1967 authorized contraception in France, a country of old Catho- lic tradition and obsessed by a decreasing birth rate, but which recognized that sexual desire is not necessarily related to procreative instinct or the survival of the species. This evolution in attitudes forced a variety of conservatives to revise their positions and recognize that it is not abnormal when a minor girl wishes to have sexual intercourse without wishing to start a family. On the contrary, it is now “conservative” to encourage girls to pro- 10