Geisha din si Aketchi!: Bekimon As a Site for Solidarity of Filipino Subordinate Groups

Zeril Manaois
9 min readJun 19, 2022

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Homosexuality and concepts relating to the LGBTQ+ community and queerness are often met with mixed reactions here in the Philippines. Although the Philippines has been hailed as a gay-friendly nation, the Catholic Church remains a prevalent force in the country’s governance and sometimes seeks to influence the public view regarding queerness, mostly in a negative light. The SOGIE equality bill, which aims to protect against discrimination of one’s SOGIE (sexual orientation, gender identity, and expression), remains up for debate in the Senate. As late as 2011, 28 individuals were murdered in LGBT-related issues (UNDP & USAID, 2014, p.8). There is also a surprising lack of queer catered spaces and tolerance for male homosexuality in the country seems more like a myth rather than an accepted practice which Garcia (2004) criticizes:

If their society was truly tolerant of (male) homosexuality, then Filipinos would see not just flaming transvestites shrieking their heads off in TV sitcoms and variety shows, but local men, sissy or otherwise, frenching and erotically manhandling each other in steamy ‘gay telenovelas’. There would be as many gay pick-up bars as straight bars, and both the femmy pa-girl and butchy pa-mhin would be able to display affection in public. (p. 13)

Such problems then had created a rather unique opportunity for the gay community to create a language of their own. Perhaps best known as bekimon or Filipino gay lingo, the argot or slang is used mostly by gay men. The slang is popular for its use of loanwords such as otoko from Japanese (a young man) and dako from Hiligaynon. Perhaps one might also have heard celebrity names being used such as Gelli de Belen which means jealous. But it isn’t just gay men or homosexuals who have contributed and benefited from bekimon: the ever flamboyant bakla (men who crossdress and are often gay) and babaeng bakla (women who uses bekimon and often frequent gay or queer spaces). There is a common denominator among these three and that is they are all minority or subordinate groups in Philippine society. As such, we can say that bekimon is not just a language popularized by gay men or the Western concept of a homosexual but also a site of solidarity for minority groups in a country where patriarchy and machismo are the norms.

In a nation where those who shun those who don’t fit the standards, a balanced way of communication simply isn’t possible due to power always being shifted in favor of the dominant group. Approaching the topic of bekimon can then be best analyzed with the use of the Muted Group Theory. To do so is to first look at the development of the concept of bakla and homosexuality in the history of the Philippines and analyze how dominant groups eventually came to be to enact a cycle of silencing.

The concept of a bakla in the precolonial sense wasn’t exactly a homosexual; many native men acted and assumed the role of a woman. They were called by different names: bayoguin, bayok, binabae, among many others. Their community had also created heightened importance for such individuals for they serve as the spiritual leaders and guides (which we know them as babaylan or katalonan). However, Garcia (2008) sees them not just as crossdressers but rather as “gender crossers” (p.13). They weren’t simply men who play dress-up as a woman, but rather an entirely new identity that surpasses the gender binary of male and female. The transformative process of assuming a woman’s appearance and their behavior had given these people an identity comparable to that of being a female or woman. There was social recognition for what they do, and what makes them so esteemed during the pre-colonial society was that women were also held in high regard. At this point, we can already see a sort of connection between the gender crossers and women of that time. They were important figureheads of pre-colonial society, but their status wouldn’t last as the country shifted to a colonial age when the Spaniards came.

The Spaniards brought with them Catholicism and with it the abolition of various beliefs held by our pre-colonial ancestors. Women and gender crossers were stripped of their previous powers and authority; machismo had slowly become ingrained in Filipino society. Men were expected to present a form of an exaggerated masculinity and feminine traits would earn disdain. Women were relegated to the role of simply being a housewife and seen as submissive individuals. What we may call “progressive” practices such as abortion and divorce were outlawed by the Church. Various apparatuses were made to silence and control the thinking of the Filipino people which was of course done through the teachings of Catholicism. People who subverted the rules of God were subject to eternal torment and it is only in the afterlife that one can become saved. It is at this point that we notice, albeit very minute, changes to the communication and the language of the people. Whereas the babaylan, bayogin, and the binabae were names for people worthy of admiration and respect, the word had been bastardized in the form of bakla, meaning “cowardly” or “fearful”.

American occupation had also created a distinction from what we know of the bakla. Western ideas brought the idea of homosexuality and superimposed it to the identity of the bakla. Many Filipinos used the term interchangeably: something which had been the effect of stigmatization. Nevertheless, although one might find the two terms to have overlapping definitions, the two are quite distinct from each other and each prompting a need for separate groups. What makes the bekimon phenomenon so intriguing is how it encapsulated not just one muted group. Women, the bakla, and people who identify as homosexual found solace in swardspeak and bekimon.

Bekimon becoming the default for many gays is due to how one’s own language is incredibly ineffective in communicating what they want to convey. For example, discussions about sex and sexual activities are considered taboo which of course we can trace to the ideologies brought by Christianity: “The intersection of sexuality and religion is often seen as taboo because intercourse or any form of sexual activity violates the body created and shaped by God himself” (Manaois, 2020). As we can recall with the second assumption of the Muted Group Theory, subordinate groups have difficulty articulating their thoughts due to how the dominant group controls how we should perceive the world. In the context of our country, patriarchal institutions such as the Church still prevail over other ideologies. A nation so sexually deprived must have some outlets and for some, it is through communicating such grievances. Bekimon is such an outlet and had allowed gay men to talk about sex without arousing the ire of their non-queer peers. Within the safe space of swardspeak and bekimon, the Church has no power nor control. Nevertheless, issues of silencing continue well on to modern times, with men who identify as queer enduring ridicule and harassment. For example, a young man will perhaps earn a scolding from his parents if he portrays feminine traits or being malamya, lest he be called with disrespectful names by his peers, “bakla”, “bayot”, “supot”, to name a few. He would have to act manly to regain the respect that he needs. It is evident that due to how prevalent the dominant group’s culture and ideology is, people are expected to fit and communicate in a way that works only for the dominant group (which in this case is once again cisgender hetero men).

So what about the women? As we can recall, gender crossers together with the women enjoyed an elevated status during pre-colonial times. The arrival of the Spanish, however, witnessed the fall from grace of these two particular groups. In the present day, we also have what we may call the babaeng bakla, a woman who utilizes gay lingo and frequents gay spaces. In a literal sense, the term means “a woman who is gay”. However, do keep in mind that such a label only exists for a strictly Filipino phenomenon, and the woman does not necessarily identify as part of the LGBTQ+ community. Such relationships between the bakla and the babaeng bakla had created a space for kinship and allyship between the two: “gay men reported that their women friends provided support regarding their stigmatized sexual identities and relationships while straight women reported valuing their friendships with gay men as a safe space in which they felt comfortable talking about anything” (Grigoriou, 2004 as cited in Torre & Manalastas, 2013, p. 151). To contextualize further, women are often relegated to a position of a housewife or a caretaker and although rather comical, chismis and gossiping are pastimes that helps them break away temporarily from the expectations of men. Meanwhile, the bakla is known to frequent beauty parlors, often acting as the shop’s owners or employees. In this space, gossip is abundant and it is perhaps this reason that women can be found frequenting these parlors. That isn’t to say chismis is a very harmful activity; for one, it serves as a liberation for the daily lives that these people experience. For women, the expectations of simply being a submissive housewife and for the bakla, a chance to be recognized and acknowledged in a space where the people communicating are seen as equal.

For women, the expectations of simply being a submissive housewife and for the bakla, a chance to be recognized and acknowledged in a space where the people communicating are seen as equal.

The prevalence of bekimon had surpassed quite a few expectations. One issue regarding it entering the mainstream is that it isn’t simply just the language of the muted group. Its popularity had cemented itself in the vocabulary of many Filipinos especially those who frequent social media spaces. One could always read or hear charot or any of its variations in a comment section. This begs the question of whether or not the language had successfully resisted the control of the dominant group. But as we can see, the harassment and ridicule faced by people that are a minority are still growing largely here in the country. An issue of appropriation then comes to light. Should such language be gatekept in a way that only the subordinate group be able to use it? Much of these questions can also be connected to a problem that African American Vernacular English (AAVE) also experiences. Its assimilation to queer lingo to eventually internet slang had contributed to a multitude of discourse regarding who can use it. This can be a great research point for those wishing to expound on the topic.

The discussion regarding bekimon might give the reader perhaps an information overload. Nonetheless, it is important to talk about the nuances of it since it helps us in grasping its importance and relevance in contemporary Filipino society. The Muted Group Theory also works in the same way: such discourse is just theoretical but also historical and sociological in nature. We simply cannot explain bekimon without contextualizing the history behind its silencing and in its eventual resistance to dominant ideologies.

Swardspeak had been a tool not just for self-expression, but also a form of resistance for the dominantly patriarchal Filipino society. Bayatan remarks “possible that the gays are turning the source of their oppression their desires into the very source of their self-affirmation.” (as cited in Alba, 2006). Swardspeak and bekimon not only serves as a medium for communication but the very expression of one’s self-identity. The energy and flamboyance of the bakla comes through bekimon as seen with its playfulness on various words. But we must remember that it isn’t just the bakla but also the homosexuals and the women who are struggling against the dominance of the patriarchy. The bakla isn’t alone in their struggle against machismo and the patriarchy but stands in a united front together with women and the queer community in dismantling such ideologies and institutions.

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References:

Alba, R. A. (2015, May 17). In Focus: The Filipino Gayspeak (filipino gay lingo). National Commission for Culture and the Arts. Retrieved January 2022, from https://ncca.gov.ph/about-culture-and-arts/in-focus/the-filipino-gayspeak-filipino-gay-lingo

Garcia, J. N. (2004, November). Male homosexuality in the Philippines: A short history. International Institute for Asian Studies Newsletter. International Institute for Asian Studies. Retrieved January 2022, from https://www.iias.asia/sites/default/files/2020-11/IIAS_NL35_13.pdf.

Manaois, Z. (2020, November 9). Online journal 2: Pagsusuri sa Tula ni Carlos Piocos. Medium. Retrieved January 2022, from https://zomanaois.medium.com/online-journal-2-pagsusuri-sa-tula-ni-carlos-piocos-da36b7d174a3

Torre, B. A. & Manalastas, E. J. (2013). Babaeng Bakla: Friendships between Women and Gay Men in the Philippines. Philippine Journal of Psychology, 46(2), 149–163.

UNDP & USAID (2014). Being LGBT in Asia: The Philippines country report. Bangkok.

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Zeril Manaois

not everyone loved freely like me. | mapagpatawad pa ang Diyos kaysa sa'kin.