The War on Terror Through the Eyes of Queer Afghan Refugees
As I read Bobuq Sayed’s No God But Us in the waning days of the summer, I realized their debut novel paired well with Jose Esteban Muñoz’s final work, The Sense of Brown (2020). Together, the duo made a perfect.
The article introduces No God But Us, a debut novel by Bobuq Sayed, as a companion to Jose Esteban Muñoz’s The Sense of Brown (2020) for reflecting on the last 25 years of the U.S. War on Terror. The novel tells the alternating first-person stories of two queer Afghan refugees, Delbar and Mansur, whose lives are disrupted by the war. The War on Terror began on September 14, 2001, with the Authorization for Use of Military Force signed by George W. Bush and approved by all but one member of the U.S. House of Representatives. The war has resulted in an estimated 4.5 million deaths, including 1 million from direct combat in countries like Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Iraq, and 3.5 million from indirect causes such as economic destruction. Additionally, 37 million people have been displaced as refugees.
The article emphasizes that refugees affected by the War on Terror are not passive victims but active agents navigating unpredictable lives. Sayed’s novel portrays them as adventurers, poets, and sometimes humorous individuals who shape their own destinies despite hardships. The novel is dedicated to 'the transgressors of borders,' exploring themes of crossing national, gender, and class boundaries. Delbar, raised in Washington, D.C., is outed and rejected by his family, while Mansur, born in Afghanistan, flees to Iran after his father’s death and later to Turkey, working as a dishwasher and sex worker. Their journeys highlight resilience and resourcefulness in the face of displacement.
Sayed’s novel satirizes international NGOs and their employees, critiquing the white savior complex. The fictional organization PeaceMeals, where Delbar and Mansur meet, is depicted as performative and self-congratulatory, with employees patting themselves on the back for addressing problems their countries helped create. Refugees are often forced to sign image release forms for free meals, highlighting unequal power dynamics. Delbar’s disdain for PeaceMeals’ leader, Leif, reflects broader skepticism toward humanitarian efforts perceived as superficial or self-serving.
The novel explores brownness as a shared experience of fractured togetherness and resistance, a concept derived from Muñoz’s The Sense of Brown. Brownness here refers to the stigmatization of people from diverse backgrounds (e.g., Afghans, Arabs, Muslims) lumped together post-9/11 under a single label. Delbar and Mansur navigate this identity in Turkey, where they are often misidentified as Arab despite being Afghan. The novel also critiques pinkwashing, the use of LGBTQ+ rights to justify imperial violence. Delbar’s insistence on identity terms contrasts with Mansur’s more pragmatic view, reflecting differing experiences of privilege and displacement.
The novel highlights the central role of aunties in queer Afghan communities, described as a Greek chorus that reinforces traditional values while offering protection and queer solidarity. Delbar’s Aunt Yosra, for example, shelters him after he is outed, while Mansur’s aunt Schaesta Ama initially rejects him but later aids his escape. The novel also explores the queer and brown experience of childhood, portraying children as vital to nurturing queer communities across generations. However, intergenerational living limits privacy, forcing queer individuals to seek intimacy in public spaces, akin to the cross-class sexual dynamics described in Samuel R. Delany’s Times Square Red, Times Square Blue.
The article reflects on the missed opportunities following the 9/11 attacks, which could have led to a kinder global response but instead plunged the world into further violence. The author, who witnessed 9/11 in New York City, notes that the memorial columns of light symbolize lost potential. Instead of fostering justice, the U.S. responded with military force, dropping 2,000-pound bombs (nicknamed Daisy Cutters) on some of the world’s poorest people by late 2001. The novel underscores that despite imperial violence, queer refugees like Delbar and Mansur create love, light, and life, embodying the idea that 'there is no god but us.'
Despite thematic similarities to widely covered queer novels like André Aciman’s *Call Me By Your Name* or Madeline Miller’s *Song of Achilles*, *No God But Us* has received far less attention. The article suggests this disparity may stem from the novel’s dual identity as both a queer Muslim-authored work and a critique of American empire. The author argues that Sayed’s prose rivals that of established writers like Garth Greenwell or Miller but remains underrecognized, possibly due to its unflinching portrayal of U.S. and EU violence and its challenge to *pinkwashing*, the practice of using LGBTQ+ rights to justify imperial actions.
