| Site: | OpenLearn Create |
| Course: | Solidarity and Struggle: Resisting Anti-Gender Politics |
| Book: | Lesson 5.1: Grassroots resistance |
| Printed by: | Guest user |
| Date: | Friday, 21 August 2026, 9:05 PM |
This topic introduces the wide range of grassroots strategies that queer, trans, and feminist activists use to counter anti-gender narratives and policies. Resistance can be overt – visible protests, legal advocacy, and public campaigns – or quieter, grounded in everyday practices of care, digital security, and safe-space creation. What unites these approaches is a commitment to collective survival, even in contexts where civic space is shrinking.
Resistance to ‘anti-gender’ politics takes many forms.Across Europe, queer, trans, and feminist grassroots movements respond to attacks, repression, and backlash not only with visible acts of protest but also through quieter, everyday practices of care, creativity, and solidarity. Sometimes resistance fills city squares; other times it unfolds in small safe spaces, encrypted chats, or friendship networks that keep communities alive when public visibility becomes too dangerous. Both are equally political.
IrelandActivists emphasised the importance of ‘being present, not going away,’ and the power of public protest to reclaim belonging. Protesters joined counter-demonstrations outside libraries and anti-trans events, organised Pride and Alternative Pride marches, and boycotted hostile media. Being visible was emotionally sustaining: protest marches helped participants
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SpainIn Spain, activism has combined institutional engagement with grassroots action. Here feminist and queer movements have also succeeded in translating long-term organising into institutional power — entering governments, municipalities, ministries, and public administrations to advance protective policies and counter ‘anti-gender’ agendas from within. These institutional gains did not emerge in isolation. They were made possible by sustained feminist mobilisation, coalition-building, and collective pressure over time. Resistance, therefore, operates across multiple sites: in streets and communities but also within state institutions themselves. Campaigns successfully challenged the transphobic ‘HazteOír’ bus, eventually leading to its ban in Catalonia, while educational initiatives equipped schools and emergency responders to respond to misinformation. As one participant noted, such work involves learning ‘how to interpellate men without attacking them directly’ – showing that dialogue itself can be a form of resistance. |
PolandIn Poland, the Women’s Strike (Strajk Kobiet) and related feminist coalitions linked struggles for gender justice to broader democratic rights, demonstrating how alliances can amplify power. |
SwitzerlandAnd in Switzerland, where civic space is comparatively open, activists continue to influence public debate through policy advocacy and engagement with sympathetic politicians. This shows that institutional routes remain important in some contexts and can coexist with grassroots strategies. |
Anti-gender movements often attempt to delegitimise activists, defund equality work, and restrict the right to organise. When civic space narrows, resistance adapts.
In Belarus, the 2020 mass protests saw unprecedented queer-feminist participation, including a visible queer column. Women led non-violent marches, using flowers and white clothing as symbols of peaceful defiance. Yet after the crackdown, arrests and surveillance forced activism underground. Many activists fled to build networks in exile; those who remained faced the closure of NGOs and criminalisation of public organising.
In Turkey, following the 2016 coup attempt and the collapse of peace talks with the PKK, civic space contracted sharply. Pride marches were banned, NGOs were shuttered, and media smear campaigns normalised hostility toward LGBTQIA+ communities. Kurdish, feminist, and queer activists increasingly organised from exile. One participant explained:
being a dissident in Turkey… life shows you that leaving is the best possible way to go (p. 9).
These examples illustrate that shrinking civic space does not end resistance; it decentralises it, pushing communities to experiment with transnational organising, coded communication, and new digital infrastructures. (RESIST Transnational report, p. 9)
In these shrinking civic spaces, advocacy and coalition-building remain important, but they take different shapes. In Switzerland, liaising with politicians can still influence outcomes; in authoritarian settings such as Belarus or Turkey, such strategies may bring risk or imprisonment. Funding cuts deepen these divides: activists from repressive contexts often cannot attend European meetings where cross-border advocacy occurs, effectively silencing them in transnational debates.
When public protest becomes too risky, resistance shifts to less visible forms. The case study on Spain describes these as ‘everyday micro-strategies’ – the small acts that sustain activists under pressure. These include:
blocking or muting online attackers
using encrypted messaging apps
establishing panic buttons or alarm systems
sharing legal advice and mental-health resources
maintaining small, trusted friendship networks
In Belarus and Turkey, encrypted channels keep exiled and local activists connected, despite surveillance risks. These networks provide emotional support and political continuity even when physical organising is impossible.
Such strategies reveal that resistance does not only happen in streets or parliaments. It also happens in the quiet maintenance of safety, connection, and care – practices often overlooked but essential for long-term survival.
Visibility is both empowering and dangerous. Communities must constantly assess risk. Some activists choose to remain public despite personal harm. One German participant asked:
‘Who does it if not me? And if I leave … no one will do it.’
Others rely on pseudonyms, coded art, private events, or closed digital spaces. These decisions reflect a spectrum of strategies rather than a hierarchy: both strategies are political and both are necessary.
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Managing visibility requires collective effort. Digital safety training, emotional support, and shared decision-making help communities weigh risks and reduce individual vulnerability. |
What to remember about queer feminist resistances?
Reflection
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