The quiet and unexpected rise of queer Muslim characters on television
Omar Ayuso from “Elite” (Netflix)
• Queer Muslim characters have appeared in streaming, cable, and network shows over the last couple of years.
•Freeform’s “The Bold Type,” Netflix’s “Elite,” and HBO’s “Here and Now” have all had intriguing depictions of LGBTQ Muslims.
• These portrayals are a step in the right direction for nuanced representation of Muslims on television.
On Netflix’s “Elite,” there is a character by the name of Omar who is the perfect cocktail of different identities. He is Muslim, he is Palestinian, and he’s gay. Oddly enough, in 2019, that in itself feels radical.
And he’s not the only one. For over a year, a rising trend of queer Muslim characters has been emerging on screen, but surprisingly falling under the radar.
On Freeform’s “The Bold Type,” there’s Adena, the hijab-wearing lesbian who comfortably asserts her sexuality. On HBO’s short-lived “Here and Now,” a gender-fluid character named Navid wears makeup and adorns hijab. And most recently, on “Elite,” Omar is a closeted homosexual who struggles to be his true self in his conservative family.
In the past, Muslim characters have been elusive on television, especially in major roles. In the few instances where they were featured onscreen, they were usually seen playing terrorists and villains, or were relegated to secondary parts. However, as these three queer characters move past these stereotypes, and tread new and unconventional territory, not all of them are necessarily effective.
Nikohl Boosheri as Adena El-Amin on “The Bold Type” (Freeform)
“The Bold Type,” which premiered in 2017, centers around a group of millennial women trying to make it in the world of magazine publishing. In it, a character named Adena El-Amin, portrayed by Nikohl Boosheri, is an artist, an activist, and a love interest to Kat (Aisha Dee), one of the show’s main characters. Adena, who is of Iranian origin, is an openly gay Muslim, which feels unprecedented in television history.
However, the problem with Adena is that she arrives fully established in her identity, that she skirts any developmental steps that would help viewers to invest in her. Perhaps this is partly why the character garnered mixed reviews from some Muslim viewers. On one hand, some felt the character was important and ground-breaking, and in other ways, some Muslims audience members felt that the character didn’t represent them and their Islamic values.
“The West only accepts Muslims who abandon everything that makes them Muslim. Don’t pray, fast, but pride themselves on drinking, dating, etc,” said one viewer in a tweet thread when the “The Bold Type” premiered, criticizing characterizations of Muslims that fit a more palatable, secular version of them.
While the criticism voices a very real concern about the West’s depiction of Muslims, it’s also unfair. Gaining visibility in media representation is a common conversation in Muslim communities. We’re always advocating for positive, humanizing portrayals that show different sides to Muslim-American life. To object to depictions of queer Muslims is to deny that such an identity exists, or that it’s a struggle and problem within Muslim communities, because of its conservative views about homosexuality.
The appeal of Adena lies in her confidence. She carries herself with a strong, devil-may-care attitude in a way that’s as fascinating to watch as it is jarring. In theory, such characterization should feel empowering. It goes against the grain of what one might think of when they imagine a hijab-wearing woman. Here she is, completely unbothered by the opinions of others, and yet, Adena fails to feel like a character in her own right. She exists peripherally and serves as an awakening for Kat, who realizes her own queerness after meeting Adena.
It can even be argued that Adena feels less of an authentic character and more like a rule-breaking, minority character on the show. It’s as though she’s a tokenized, rather than a fleshed-out character who has a history or a journey that we care to be a part of.
In a similar vein, “Here and Now,” which aired last year, also has a character who is far and away one of the more interesting portrayals of Muslims in recent memory, with very little fanfare due to the show’s poor viewership and reviews.
Navid (Marwan Salama) is the gender-fluid Persian teenager wears makeup and the hijab, but in the safety of his own home. The show revolves around a multiracial family in Portland, and Navid, who is a side character and plays the best friend and love interest of Kristen, (Sosie Bacon), one of the show’s leads, still managed to stand out completely on his own.
He’s effeminate and sensitive, confident and snarky, and instantly likable. He’s played by a charismatic young actor who endears himself as a teenager looking to find his own path, but not without the confusion and vulnerability that comes with adolescence.
Marwan Salama as Navid on “Here and Now” (HBO)
It’s noteworthy that “Here and Now,” doesn’t shy away from showing Navid as a practicing Muslim who quotes from the Quran and tries to explain his religion to his agnostic friend. He makes it clear to Kristen, that his faith is important to him, and it’s an admirable choice by the show. Though, it’s interesting that a character like Navid even existed on a series that’s completely off-kilter, self-indulgent, and difficult to navigate because of its supernatural elements. Navid is perhaps the only aspect of the show that worked and intrigued, making it disappointing that his development has been cut short.
On “Elite,” a cheeky and campy show about a group of prep school students in Spain, Omar (Omar Ayuso), a closeted homosexual, is the most effective out of the three queer Muslim characters.
He is portrayed as mild-mannered and quiet and is a man of few words. His romance with Ander, another main character, plays on the forbidden love trope but holds the air of excitement. Part of what makes Omar more successful is that the viewers are clued into his interior struggle. They’re with him along for the journey.
While you don’t see Omar practice as a Muslim, his story is more about the obligation he feels to his parents, who have set expectations for their son. Omar is someone who is unable to be his true self out of fear of his conservative parents. Throughout the first season, he’s tormented by the idea that he’ll disappoint them, and his conflicting relationship with them is what makes for a more empathetic storyline.
Given that “Elite” has been renewed for a second season, it’ll be interesting to see how Omar’s story progresses. His parents are still in the dark about his sexuality, and now that he’s gone into a deeper relationship with Ander, there a lot of different ways the narrative could go.
These portrayals bring into focus a very crucial question of what kind of stories about Muslims are acceptable to us as Muslims. Showing different facets of Muslim life and struggle. There isn’t just one way to be Muslim. We should be pushing for more nuanced depictions. Pop-culture has the power to transcend, to humanize, and to allow us access to worlds we may otherwise never tap into.
It’s hard to say how nuanced these characterizations are because they are so new and unfamiliar to wider audiences. However, as fans and lovers of television, we should never stop asking writers to push against stereotypical portrayals of Muslims, to do more to ensure inclusiveness, to tell more meaningful and colorful stories, and to reflect America’s ever-changing image.