I want my rainbow back

It may be a symbol for the LGBT movement now but this natural wonder actually belongs to everyone.

A RAINBOW is truly a sight to behold. No matter how many times we see it, whether after rain, around waterfalls, sea spray or fog, it is magic to behold.

Not surprisingly, this awesome optical phenomenon, which occurs when light strikes water droplets at the precise angle of 42° in front of a viewer, is culturally and religiously important.

In mythology like the Norse beliefs, it is a bridge to the gods; in religions like Christianity, it is God’s promise to humankind to never flood the earth again. In many cultures, it is a sign of peace and hope.

According to rforh.com, Christian preacher Thomas Muntzer (1489–1525) went around carrying a rainbow flag, and during the German Peasants War in the 16th century, a rainbow was their emblem representing social justice.

Rainbow flags and banners were also used in the Cooperative Movement of the 1920s, the Peace Movement of the 1960s, and by Ecuadoran and Russian political parties.

In more modern times, it was adopted by Greenpeace for its ship called the Rainbow Warrior that was so hated by the French government, it bombed the first ship in 1985, killing one person.

As for its association with gay rights, that started in 1978 when San Francisco political activist Gilbert Baker banded eight colours together. These were pink to represent sex, red for life, orange for healing, yellow for sunlight, green for nature, turquoise for art, indigo for harmony, and violet for spirit. Along the way, two colours, red and turquoise, were dropped for practical reasons.

The rainbow flag for this cause has been around for a good 45 years; and while it was rapidly adopted in the West, the popularity of this multi-coloured banner grew slower elsewhere, especially in more conservative societies.

But now it is everywhere as the LGBT movement grows in political clout and social influence.

Since 2011, the United States has formally recognised June as Pride Month, which honours the fight for LGBT rights and celebrates LGBT culture. Pride Month is now celebrated in South-East Asian countries including Thailand, the Philippines and Singapore.

Businesses have seen the potential profit in supporting the movement, including the Swatch group, which came up with its Pride Collection. Those watches came in the six colours of the LGBT rainbow flag.

However, the collection ran into grief in Malaysia with our Home Ministry confiscating 172 watches from outlets in 11 shopping malls over three days in May. Publicity over the raids went global, and in Malaysia, the rainbow became associated with morally subversive elements.

The Home Ministry went on to make it illegal for anyone to possess any Swatch products containing LGBT elements. Convicted offenders could face up to three years in jail, a maximum fine of RM20,000 or both.

What a strange turn of events for people who bought the watches and must now hide them away as contraband.

That is what bothers me. Just because Baker took inspiration from the rainbow to create his flag, it doesn’t mean the LGBT community owns the rainbow. It has become the stick-in-your-face emblem and in response, alarmed conservative governments and pressure groups are starting to see the rainbow and its colours as something they must guard against and even ban as a sign for immoral lifestyles and godless behaviour.

What did the innocent rainbow do to deserve this?

You may think I am being ridiculous, but consider what happened to the swastika. You read it right: The vilified emblem of Adolf Hitler and Nazi Germany.

Before Hitler appropriated the symbol, the swastika, which is from Sanskrit and means “well-being”, belonged to the world. The Nazis called it hakenkreuz, meaning “hooked cross”, which was designed as a black straight-armed cross on a white circle on a red background.

As the 2014 bbc.com article, “How the world loved the swastika – until Hitler stole it”, puts it, “In the Western world the swastika is synonymous with fascism, but it goes back thousands of years and has been used as a symbol of good fortune in almost every culture in the world” before it became the most hated symbol of the 20th century.

Even up to the beginning of the 20th century, the swastika was a huge trendy fad. Famous brands like Carlsberg and Coca Cola used it on their merchandise, the Boy Scouts adopted it, and the Girls’ Club of America called their magazine Swastika.

While it has roots in India, the swastika was also a familiar motif widely used by native Americans, ancient Greeks, the Celts and Anglo-Saxons.

In Chinese culture, the character “wan” written as or is homonym for the Chinese word “ten thousand” and therefore a symbol of immortality as well as longevity. In Buddhism, the symbol is known as manji and signifies the Buddha’s feet or his footsteps.

But 78 years after the end of World War II, the swastika continues to be a terrifying symbol of hate and evil, despite efforts by Asian communities in the West to reclaim it and return it to its original meaning.

The fallout may not be as severe or extreme for the rainbow, but from my perch, I detest how it is now seen as “owned” by the LGBT movement. Forbes reported that during the Covid-19 lockdown, the six-colour rainbow badge that was created earlier by Britain’s National Health Service to show solidarity for LGBT workers was “mistaken” to be a sign to show support for the pandemic frontliners. That led to some online stores rebranding and selling the gay pride banners as “Thank You NHS” flags. This upset some in the LGBT community because they felt they were losing THEIR symbol.

Goodness me, how prideful is that?

I don’t like any authority telling me what I can or cannot do with the colours of the rainbow nor what colour I cannot wear at events like rallies calling for clean and fair elections.

While I have no issues with marginalised and disadvantaged groups fighting for their rights, social justice and acceptance, neither do I want anyone to assume I am gay or pro-LGBT if I happen to wear a rainbow-coloured garment or accessory.

If I happen to see a rainbow, I don’t want to think LGBT, no siree. I just want to drink in its ethereal and ephemeral beauty that lightens and gladdens my heart.

At best, the rainbow can be borrowed for a while for a cause as in the past. It belongs to no one but to everyone.

The views expressed here are the writer’s own.