Homophobic ‘Honour’ Abuse: A Silent Crisis for Desi Men in the UK

Homophobic ‘honour’ abuse remains a brutal, hidden reality for many South Asian gay men in England, often lurking behind the respectable facade of izzat and traditional family values.

This hidden reality is documented in an academic paper by Dr Roxanne Khan and Dr Michelle Lowe, which exposes how ‘honour’ is weaponised to control, punish, and silence those who deviate from traditional heteronormative scripts.

While the public is increasingly aware of honour-based violence (HBV) directed at women, the plight of gay men is a complex, multi-layered trauma that is rarely discussed in mainstream discourse.

It is a world where masculinity is a performance, and any perceived failure to uphold that performance can lead to a rapid descent from beloved son to a source of toxic shame.

By examining the lived experiences of survivors and the psychological machinery of collectivist cultures, we can begin to unpick how family bonds are often traded for a facade of social respectability.

The Masculinity Trap

The foundation of homophobic ‘honour’ abuse lies in the rigid gender roles prescribed by patriarchal, collectivist cultures.

In these communities, masculinity is often viewed as a performance of dominance and toughness.

As noted in the academic paper, “males are legitimised to use forceful means to maintain their dominant social position”.

When a man identifies as gay, he is perceived to have abandoned this “macho” expectation, effectively demasculinising himself and, by extension, his entire lineage.

This isn’t merely about personal disapproval; it’s about the social currency of honour.

In South Asian communities, having high izzat translates to better business opportunities, marital prospects for siblings, and social standing.

Homosexuality is seen as a “social and sexual indiscretion” that brings shame not just to the individual, but to the collective.

Consequently, the family feels a social obligation to restore that honour through whatever means necessary.

This pressure often manifests as hypermasculinity, where male relatives feel they must use aggression to prove their own manhood isn’t ‘tainted’ by their relative’s sexuality.

The irony is staggering: in a bid to appear honourable to their peers, families will resort to the most dishonourable acts of violence.

This creates a climate of fear where gay men are under constant surveillance by their own kin, knowing that their very existence is viewed as a threat to the family’s survival in the community.

Coerced into the Closet

One of the most pervasive forms of homophobic ‘honour’ abuse is the use of forced marriage as a cure.

It is a common misconception that forced marriage is an exclusively female issue.

Statistics from the UK Government’s Forced Marriage Unit (FMU) in 2024 revealed that approximately 29% of cases involved male victims, a figure that has remained high over the last few years.

For South Asian gay men, a forced marriage is often presented as a way to ‘fix’ them or to provide a ‘cover’ that satisfies community curiosity.

The methods of coercion are often barbaric.

In one account, one survivor disclosed that upon his homosexuality being discovered, he was threatened with being “sexually violated by an electric hand drill”.

Such extreme threats are designed to instil a level of terror that ensures total compliance.

Victims are told that they will be disowned, kicked out, or killed if they do not marry a woman chosen by the family.

Charities like Karma Nirvana reported a 17% increase in HBA cases, with a significant portion of male callers describing “coercive control” as their primary experience.

This includes having their finances monitored, their movements tracked via GPS, and being subjected to emotional blackmail where mothers or sisters threaten self-harm if the man doesn’t “change his ways”.

The marriage becomes a prison for two people, the gay man and the unsuspecting woman he is forced to wed – both victims of a culture that values the appearance of a traditional family unit over the actual welfare of its members.

A Home of Hostility

For many gay South Asian men, the home becomes the primary site of abuse.

Research published in 2023 by Galop found that nearly 1 in 5 LGBT+ people in the UK have been subjected to conversion practices, with 56% of those survivors identifying their own family as the perpetrators.

In the South Asian context, these ‘cures’ often take the form of spiritual counselling, being forced to see ‘religious experts’ to cast out ‘demons’, or being sent back to Pakistan, India, or Bangladesh under the guise of a holiday, only to be held captive.

The psychological toll of this betrayal is immense.

Being told you are a “disease” or a “sin” by the people who raised you creates a fractured sense of self.

The study highlighted that participants reported “myriad negative psychological effects”, including self-loathing, loneliness, and chronic anxiety.

This is exacerbated by the fact that many of these men are highly educated and economically active, yet they remain tethered to their families due to deep-seated cultural loyalties.

As of 2026, the UK’s legislative journey toward a full ban on conversion practices has put these insidious family-based interventions under the spotlight.

However, for the South Asian man, a legal ban doesn’t easily penetrate the private walls of a religious household.

The abuse is often camouflaged as “parental concern” or “traditional values”, making it difficult for outsiders to intervene.

The shame culture ensures that the victim remains silent, fearing that reporting the abuse would be the ultimate act of betrayal against his heritage.

The Cost of Identity

The ultimate consequence of this internal and external warfare is a mental health crisis of staggering proportions.

A survey of young ethnic minority men in the UK found that 76% gay and bisexual boys had considered taking their own lives.

The association between honour cultures and higher rates of suicide is well-documented; the fear of being outed and the resulting social ostracisation leaves men feeling they have no route to safety.

The tragic case of Dr Nazim Mahmood, who took his own life in 2014 after his family could not accept that he was gay, remains a haunting reminder of the stakes.

His partner, Matt Mahmood-Ogston, who founded the Naz and Matt Foundation, continues to highlight how families treat homosexuality “like a disease that needed to be got rid of”.

Even in 2026, the foundation’s reports show that “religious and cultural homophobia” remains a primary driver of suicidal ideation among British Asian men.

Adding to this tragedy is the policing gap.

Many gay South Asian men do not trust the authorities to protect them.

Survivors often feel that the police do not understand what it is like or, worse, are institutionally racist.

There is a pervasive fear that involving the police will “out” the victim to the entire community, leading to an escalation of violence.

In some cases, families have successfully manipulated police officers by claiming the victim is “unstable” or “missing,” using the authorities as a tool of further harassment.

The reality for gay South Asian men in England is one of navigated survival.

They live in a country that legally protects their rights, yet they inhabit a cultural sub-section where those rights are often viewed as Western “impurities”.

Summing up the current landscape, it is clear that the fight against homophobic honour abuse cannot be won through legislation alone; it requires a fundamental shift in how the community defines ‘honour’.

The stories of those who have escaped, those who have stayed, and those we have lost all point to the same truth: honour is a social construct, but the trauma it inflicts is very, very real.

As we look toward the future, the goal must be to ensure that no man has to choose between his family and his identity.