In recent years, LGBTQ+ people and rights have been increasingly targeted as part of a wave of authoritarian illiberal politics, promoting a global “anti-gender” movement. These attacks on queer people have been characterized as “the canary in the coal mine”; an early warning sign of wider democratic erosion. Autocratic leaders have exploited anti-LGBTQ+ public sentiment to crack down on freedom of expression, freedom of the press, the right to organize, and to silence dissenting voices. In response, many LGBTQ+ movements are re-emphasizing their roles as democratic actors.
LGBTQ+ Rights and Democracy
Because respecting minority groups and representing their voices fairly is a measure of liberal democratic norms, the status of LGBTQ+ rights is sometimes viewed as a barometer of democracy. Societies with strong LGBTQ+ rights protections tend to have freer elections and more robust civil liberties, and LGBTQ+ rights are stronger in democratic states. Rights have often been won through social movements lobbying for change, a core process within well-functioning democracies. Social movements have an integral role in civil society, and a free civil society is a condition of democracy. In free civil societies, citizens can hold their governments to account, exercise free speech, and amplify their voices to make demands on the state. LGBTQ+ movements don’t just benefit from democracy; they are part of the fabric of civil society and democracy itself.
The links between authoritarianism and the recent repression of queer people and their rights is usually told as a negative story, with a list of violations, violence, and restrictions on civic space. This list of wrongdoings is meant to raise the alarm about rapid democratic decline. But there is another side to this narrative. There is an important story to be told about how movements in support of LGBTQ+ rights are protecting democratic values.
When LGBTQ+ Movements Defend Democracy
In the last few years, we have seen instances when LGBTQ+ social movements have actively engaged in protecting freedom of assembly, a core democratic right. Hungary’s former prime minister, Viktor Orbán, tried to ban Budapest’s Pride march in June 2025. The city’s mayor, Gergely Karácsony, allowed the march to proceed. The march transformed into a mass anti-government demonstration, drawing around 100,000 people. This event contributed to the changing landscape that brought about the defeat of Orbán in the April 2025 election. That democracy activists saw a platform for action through LGBTQ+ rights is a promising indication of alliances that can contest anti-gender politics. Freedom of assembly claimed by one marginalized group can open space for wider democratic mobilization.
Other movements have successfully folded together calls for specific LGBTQ+ rights with calls for democratic processes. In Thailand, LGBTQ+ activists were deeply embedded in the 2020 pro-democracy protests, which demanded constitutional reform away from monarchy and toward democracy with free and fair elections. LGBTQ+ people were visible as leaders helping to shape demands and develop new modes of action. Same-sex marriage became a core issue during the protests and led to the 2023 Marriage Equality Act, which passed with overwhelming support in the upper and lower houses. When interviewed, Thai LGBTQ+ rights activists said that they need democracy in order to claim their rights and that democratically elected representatives are more likely to listen to their issues. Activist Matcha Phornin stated: “A significant part of our success came from intersecting with other movements, particularly democracy movements. When democracy is compromised, it becomes difficult to advocate for LGBTQI+ rights. That’s why many LGBTQI+ activists are also pro-democracy activists, which makes our movement more united and therefore stronger. . . . The democracy movement, which includes many young LGBTQI+ activists, has been instrumental in pushing for legislative change.”
Other LGBTQ+ rights efforts focused on the regulatory environment. In February 2023, Kenya’s Supreme Court ruled that the National Gay and Lesbian Human Rights Commission could register as a formal NGO. The ruling, which was based on freedom of association protections in the Constitution, concluded a 10-year battle. While same-sex relations remain criminalized in Kenya where social norms are conservative, the legal victory upheld the right to association. In doing so, it protected not only LGBTQ+ organizing but also the broader democratic principle that marginalized groups have the right to organize.
The Broad Reach of Social Movements
Social movements may have direct influence on political regimes and policies, but they also reshape the terms of the debate, open participation to different voices, and reclaim public space. In Thailand, the 2020 protests did not result in democratic change across formal politics, but they did spark a significant shift in public discourse on the issues and on the right to protest. Kenya’s court case held civic space open for dissenting voices even though LGBTQ+ people are criminalized. The Hungary Pride march in 2025 shows the power of people who may disagree on some issues, but who can come together to fight for democratic governance. These shifts contribute to democratic norms and move the balance of power toward the people. Because LGBTQ+ rights have been so regularly attacked by authoritarian politics, LGBTQ+ rights activists are responding by making the case that their rights are fundamental to democracy. LGBTQ+ rights are inextricably linked to the rights and freedoms of all, the protection of which is central to upholding the democratic principles of inclusion, voice, and representation.
This article was originally published as part of Resilience & Resistance, a Charles F. Kettering Foundation blog series that features the insights of thought leaders and practitioners who are working to expand and support inclusive democracies around the globe.
Evie Browne is a research fellow at ODI Global, in the Gender Equality and Social Inclusion team, researching gender norms and normativity, sexualities, rights, and social justice. Evie has a PhD in International Development from the University of Sussex with a focus on LGBTQI+ issues and gender normativity among lesbian and bisexual women in Cuba.




















Demonstrators rally outside the U.S. Supreme Court as justices hear oral arguments on whether President Donald Trump can deny citizenship to children born to parents who are in the United States illegally or temporarily, on Capitol Hill, in Washington, Wednesday, April 1, 2026. (AP Photo/Mariam Zuhaib)
Luz Angela Nuñez with her daughter Aisha Quershi Nuñez at their home in College Point, Queens. Photo: Mia Anzalone for Documented.
Kimberly Alvarez, 25, with her daughter Evangeline and her husband John Alvarez in Medellin, Colombia. Photo courtesy of Kimberly Alvarez.Alvarez arrived in New York City in February 2024 with her husband John Alvarez as asylum seekers from Venezuela. In April 2025, Alvarez found out she was pregnant with her first child, a baby girl. Her first reaction, she said, was fear.“How am I going to keep her alive?” she said. “That’s what I was thinking. ‘How am I going to be able to take care of her?’”At the beginning of Alvarez’s pregnancy, she said she was aware of the immigration enforcement occurring around the country, but vowed not to let it deter her from showing up to her doctor’s appointments.“When you went out, you were always on alert because you didn’t know if [ICE] might be around. I never saw anything suspicious,” Alvarez said. “But of course, you feel scared.”In October, when Alvarez was six months pregnant, her husband was detained by ICE agents at 26 Federal Plaza. When the immediate shock wore off, she obsessively checked the Online Detainee Locator System to find out where her husband went. A day later, she discovered that he was being kept at Delaney Hall detention center in New Jersey. Alvarez quickly set up an account to pay for phone calls, and every two days, she would pay about $10 for a one-hour call, updating her husband about the baby, her appointments and how she was doing.“Crying was the only way for me to release the tension,” said Alvarez, who worried that her lack of sleep and bad diet were impacting her baby. “Crying was the only way for me to release the tension.”—Kimberly AlvarezThat tension built up day by day, week by week following her husband’s arrest. Alvarez had stopped her work as a cleaner in the neighborhood’s synagogues two weeks before her husband’s detention because of her pregnancy. The plan, she said, was to rely solely on his income as a maintenance worker for “the food, the rent, everything.” Left with few choices, Kimberley had to rely on her mother’s income as a cleaner. The older woman had moved to New York from North Carolina to assist with Alvarez’s pregnancy. “I feel like I’m supposed to help my mom, not the other way around,” Alvarez said. “I felt powerless because I couldn’t do anything.”On Dec. 9, Alvarez gave birth to a daughter, Evangeline. While her baby was healthy, Alvarez’s anxieties did not go away. While she returned to cleaning synagogues a few months after Evangeline’s birth to help make ends meet, Alvarez and her daughter rarely left home. Alvarez said she felt paralyzed, getting frequent alerts from a neighborhood WhatsApp group when ICE was spotted nearby. One day, she said, ICE arrested her friend’s husband in Sunset Park, in an area where she would sometimes take Evangeline for walks.“I’m so afraid that I’ll go out and run into one of them and that they’ll take her away from me,” Alvarez said. “That’s my biggest fear, that someone will take her away from me and I won’t know where my daughter is.”In March, her husband decided to voluntarily remove himself from the United States and move back to Colombia, where he is originally from. It was a family decision, but it was not a happy one — hiring immigration lawyers was too expensive, Alvarez said, adding that staying in the U.S. felt too uncertain. 