Senegal's National Assembly has tightened the screws. Members of Parliament voted for a law that doubles the penalties for homosexual relations, now punishable by five to ten years in prison, amid social unrest and a series of arrests reported in the local press. The bill was passed with political haste and little suspense: 135 votes in favor, none against, and three abstentions.
Behind this unanimity lies a well-oiled machine. The text also broadens the penal arsenal by targeting the "promotion" and financing of homosexuality, and significantly increases fines, which now range from 2 to 10 million CFA francs, compared to 100,000 to 1,5 million previously. The maximum penalty will apply when the act involves a minor. The only nuance explicitly stated is that the law intends to punish "abusive denunciation made in bad faith," as if to try to curb settling of scores and witch hunts.
A "good law," and a country under tension
For several weeks, the issue has ignited public debate in Senegal, a arena where emotion quickly overrides nuance. The arrest in early February of 12 men, including two local celebrities, accused of "acts against nature," served as the spark; since then, dozens of arrests have been reported, with sometimes explosive accusations, including the deliberate transmission of HIV. Human rights organizations denounce a spiral of arrests and stigmatization, while a segment of public opinion demands reassurances of authority and the "protection of values."
In the National Assembly, words slammed like doors. MP Diaraye Bâ declared, "Homosexuals will no longer breathe in this country. Homosexuals will no longer have freedom of expression in this country," triggering applause. Interior Minister Mouhamadou Bamba Cissé hailed it as a "good law," and the government embraced a politically advantageous crackdown in a predominantly Muslim country, where influential religious associations have been demanding increased repression for years. Prime Minister Ousmane Sonko, for his part, maintains that the offense is sufficient "to get what we want and even more," while the opposition accuses him of not following through on his promise of criminalization, with Thierno Alassane denouncing it as a "deceptive law."
Now, the decision rests with President Bassirou Diomaye Faye, who is expected to promulgate this legislation that would place Senegal among the most repressive countries in Africa with regard to LGBT+ people. Beyond the symbolic aspect, the question is stark: to what extent will this tightening of laws impact civil liberties, the risk of blackmail, and access to healthcare, in a region where the domino effect of legislation is already spreading from capital to capital?
