Hello everyone,
I’m very glad that we’re gathered here today.
I had already decided to open with those words weeks ago.
But after what happened at the Berlin Pride event, they’ve taken on an extra dimension for me now.
Because although that horrific attack filled me with anger and sorrow,
a few days later my heart was filled with hope, when a crowd gathered here in Amsterdam at the Homomonument, the memorial to LGBTQI+ victims of persecution.
To lay flowers.
To light candles.
And above all, to show that we stand together.
Together in our right to freedom.
And together in our right to celebrate our love, whatever form it may take.
That is also the basis for this conference.
And it’s precisely why I’m saying: I’m very glad that we’re gathered here today.
The firm belief that love should be celebrated lay at the heart of the move to open up marriage to everyone.
And 25 years ago, in this very city, same-sex couples exchanged marriage vows for the first time in history.
It was on the first of April, at precisely 1 minute past midnight.
You could say that those first couples were quick off the mark.
But in fact, Anne-Marie and Hélène, Dolf and Gert, Peter and Frank, and Ton and Louis had waited long enough for that moment.
There, together with their families and friends, they were finally able to celebrate their love by getting married.
And the whole world was watching.
Making marriage available to everyone was a major step towards equal rights for all.
And here in the Netherlands, it may even have felt like we’d achieved that goal.
But that soon turned out to be too optimistic.
Because under the surface, there was – and often still is, as we saw to our dismay with the attack in Berlin – an attitude that one couple’s love is worth less than another’s.
It’s an attitude that’s often introduced by the line, ‘I’ve got nothing against gay people, but…’
And the problem, of course, is in that last word: ‘but’.
‘But – they shouldn’t be so flamboyant.’
‘But – I don’t need to see them holding hands.’
‘But – why can’t they just act normal?’
In short, acceptance comes with strings attached.
Even more so when it comes to trans and intersex people.
More and more in recent years, we’ve seen hard-won progress being eroded.
We’ve seen countries backsliding on equal rights legislation.
We’ve seen homophobic hate speech becoming more overt and aggressive.
Not only out in the real world, but online as well.
And when we look at what’s fuelling this, we shouldn’t be naive.
Because the truth is: there are toxic, highly organised and well-funded groups hiding behind the façade of freedom of expression.
Groups that spread hatred and push their own agendas because they have plenty to gain from doing so:
Winning political support.
Boosting their own power.
Sowing unrest and division.
What’s more, these groups no longer feel restrained, with the big social media companies barely moderating content for hate speech anymore.
And so, in my view, the rise of online hatred is one of the biggest threats facing LGBTQI+ people today.
Because misinformation – and disinformation – can be spread in the blink of an eye, with a single mouse-click.
Reaching much further than NGOs, youth workers and health organisations can.
This is always how hatred takes hold:
In the shadows.
Outside the spotlight of society.
Underestimated by everyone.
Until, having grown into a many-headed monster, it crawls out of the darkness.
And we’re shocked by the sheer scale of it.
That’s the threat I want to highlight today.
Not just these organised hate campaigns.
But also the attitude that cultivates them.
The climate that allows them to flourish.
The attitude and climate of indifference.
‘This has nothing to do with me,’ people think, when any form of discrimination rears its head.
‘I’m not gay.’
‘I’m not a woman.’
‘I’m not trans.’
‘I’m not a person of colour.’
But sooner or later, you may find that you have become the target.
Because of who you are, or what you do.
And that makes protecting freedoms the responsibility of us all.
As prime minister, I can tell you that my government has made that message a priority.
This autumn, we’ll be launching a social dialogue on online discrimination, and offering specific guidance on action to take.
For instance, we’ll be providing training courses for municipalities and civil society organisations, to help them deal with online hate speech.
And over the next 3 years we will invest €7.5 million a year in improving the safety of the queer community.
With an alliance of organisations committed to safety in the workplace for LGBTQI+ people.
With a public information campaign to combat discrimination and disinformation.
With funding for Purple Friday – the day on which Dutch schools devote special attention to diversity, with students and teachers wearing purple to show their support for everyone in the community represented by those letters LGBTQI.
And I’m delighted about that.
Because what you learn when you’re young stays with you for life.
And that includes embracing the fundamental freedom to be who you are.
In the knowledge that there are always more things that unite us than divide us.
Unfortunately, in the current climate, this is a message that all too often goes unheard.
And now that progress is no longer a given in some countries, it’s more important than ever that we don’t lose heart. Instead, we must join forces.
In the Equal Rights Coalition, for example, which celebrates its 10anniversary this year.
Within this coalition, 44 countries from across the globe and a range of NGOs work together to promote the human rights of LGBTQI+ people.
We do so by mobilising our networks, sharing our experiences and jointly ensuring that this issue remains high on the political agenda, in forums like the UN.
I’m proud that the Netherlands, together with Uruguay, founded that Coalition.
And that brings me to my next point.
For too long, the fight for equal rights has been framed as a ‘Western agenda’.
But the intercontinental cooperation in the Equal Rights Coalition and the progress being made in Asia, Latin America and some parts of Africa show that commitment to equal rights is growing all over the world.
In Japan and Botswana, major steps have been taken, and better legislation has been introduced.
In Thailand and Taiwan, same-sex couples can now get married.
And I’m delighted to say that Dutch embassy staff used their expertise to support NGOs and civil society in achieving this ambition.
At the same time though, conservative forces in countries like Uganda, Senegal, Ghana and Burkina Faso are all too eager to frame these developments as a ‘neocolonial Western agenda’.
Under the pretence of resisting so-called ‘Western moral decadence’, horrendous laws are enacted and promoted that put the rights of LGBTQI+ people under severe pressure.
But in reality, many communities in these countries have a long history of diversity and freedom, and the laws that imposed restrictions were in fact put in place by colonial powers.
In Uganda, Nigeria and Ghana for instance.
No matter how hard those conservative forces try to pull the wool over people’s eyes, queer communities around the world know that equal rights are not a ‘Western agenda’.
They are first and foremost a human agenda.
One that comes with a single message:
We must continue on the path we took all those decades ago.
The path I believe more and more countries will eventually take too.
At this Human Rights Conference, new steps will be taken in four key areas: rights, health, leadership and culture.
And I’m pleased to hear it, because these are all areas in which we can work to advance equal rights for all.
That sounds like a grand ambition, but I realise that small, local NGO initiatives can make all the difference too.
By providing funds or offering a platform.
Embassies also have a role to play – by helping to take good ideas forward, by listening to the input of NGOs and by focusing on the local context, so that those ideas work in practice as well as on paper.
But besides the practical benefits of such cooperation, it also sends a powerful message:
You are not alone. We stand with you.
It’s a message that has resounded clearly in Amsterdam over the past days.
Last week during the gathering at the memorial.
On the boats and along the route of the Canal Parade.
And in so many places where people have come together to celebrate their love.
But let’s work to ensure this message echoes through all the other days too, once World Pride has ended and this conference is over.
I know it’s possible.
But it isn’t a given.
This city tells the story of 25 years of equal marriage.
The story of Anne-Marie and Hélène, who donated their wedding dresses and rings to Dutch museums.
The story of Dolf and Gert, whose wedding photos ended up in school textbooks.
But who also said: ‘When we kissed, the outside world just disappeared. The only thing left was our love for each other.’
Friends, that short phrase encapsulates everything we stand for:
Love for each other.
Today, tomorrow and forever.
And I can’t think of a better sentiment with which to open this conference.
Thank you.