Last week witnessed some significant moments in music history. The world-renowned English rock band Oasis, featuring brothers Liam and Noel, reunited after a full 16 years. The reunion of Oasis briefly sparked speculation that another legendary English group, The Smiths, might also return to the stage. However, this possibility seems nearly impossible for Morrissey, who has transformed into a thoroughly cantankerous and irritable figure. Of course, Morrissey’s irascibility extends beyond his musical tastes. His political declarations, perspective on cultural values, and distinct interpretation of Englishness, all developed over the years, place him a world away from the marginal sensibility he once championed.
This transformation represents more than just a musician becoming more conservative with age. It also contains clues about how queer visibility is being converted into a normative tool, particularly during a period of intensified anti-immigrant sentiment and debates over cultural belonging in Europe. The very voice that once rose to speak for fragile individuals on the fringes of the system, Morrissey, now acts as a spokesperson for that system by declaring, “England must remain English.” This shift signifies something greater than the evolution of a single figure; it points to the framework of an emerging new type of “cultural nationalism” in Europe.
This form of nationalism forges a new definition of “us” by leveraging progressive elements like secular values, LGBT+ rights, women’s liberation, and animal rights, rather than relying on classic biological or race-based distinctions. Consequently, queer identities incorporated into this new “us” can be presented not as symbols of resistance or non-normativity, but as representatives of the established system itself.
FRAMING THE OUTSIDERS
In the 1950s and 60s, a time before queer theory was even conceptualized, the photographs of Diana Arbus served as an aesthetic representation of non-normative existence. Her subjects—dwarfs, transvestites, freak show artists, psychiatric patients, and gender-nonconforming individuals—were all figures that society had rendered “invisible,” either by ignoring or exoticizing them. Yet, in making these individuals visible, Arbus approached them with a direct language that looked at them as they were, without pity or glorification. This established an unsettling contact with the viewer, prompting the question: “How does their difference produce our normality?”
In contrast, the new face of cultural nationalism in Europe today aims to conceal such discomforts. LGBT+ individuals, women, and even animal rights are now presented not as tools for social education or revolution, but as symbols of “our civilized values.” The prevailing philosophy is that visibility is a showcase, not an act of resistance. In this representation, queer individuals who are “too much” to fit into Diana Arbus’s frame—especially those who are immigrants, trans, flawed, or disruptive—continue to be excluded from the system. Meanwhile, compliant, aesthetically pleasing, and homogenous LGBT representations are carefully arranged in the system’s display case.
THE SMITHS AND THE AESTHETIC OF THE OUTSIDER
In 1980s Britain, The Smiths were more than just a music group; they were the embodiment of a specific feeling. With Morrissey’s androgynous voice, lyrics that kept a distance from societal norms, and a stage presence that celebrated androgyny, the band positioned itself outside the ‘male, white, heterosexual’ codes that defined the rock world. Their songs delved into the loneliness of the working class, the claustrophobia of city life, and the despair of youth. He had openly expressed his hatred for Thatcher, even writing a song titled “Margaret on the Guillotine.” Pieces like “The Queen is Dead” solidified his anti-monarchy stance, critique of the system, and detachment from conventional British identity, elevating him to cult status among left-leaning circles. For this reason, the right-wing conservative media of the time often depicted him as a “pessimistic, anti-British, decadent figure.” However, he never fully aligned with left-wing politics nor was he content with a protest aesthetic that operated within the system. He was broadly considered “marginal and dangerous.”
Over the years, Morrissey’s discourse has changed dramatically. In one interview, he asserted that Germany “must remain German” and lamented that England was culturally “lost” due to immigration. His most controversial statement was his endorsement of the “For Britain” party, a group associated with the far-right and known for its anti-Islam rhetoric. Morrissey referred to the party’s leader, Anne Marie Waters, as a “brave woman.” He sometimes articulates his commitment to animal rights in a manner that overlaps with xenophobic sentiments. For example, after the terrorist attack in Norway, he made a statement asking, “If so much attention is paid to Norway, why is the suffering of animals ignored?” This new Morrissey is now praised as a “courageous artist defending his values” by the same right-wing media that once fiercely criticized him. He gradually became a cultural conservative figure, winking at the system’s conservative reflexes. While some right-wing media outlets began to code him as a “brave artist resisting woke culture,” they never fully accepted him into their fold, partly because Morrissey never became a straightforward right-wing figure; he disliked Boris Johnson and did not extol classic conservative values. Consequently, he became a cancelled figure in certain circles, as many fans could not forgive the chasm between the political sensitivity of his Smiths era and his current position.
‘SENSITIVITY NATIONALISM’
This entire scenario bears the marks of a new type of nationalism emerging in Europe. This nationalism replaces conventional rhetoric by defining itself through domains like women’s rights, LGBT+ freedom, and animal rights. These values, however, are stripped of their universality and transformed into “our values.” An identity is constructed around the narrative of “we, the civilized Europeans,” in opposition to immigrant cultures that are presumed not to uphold these values. This is where things get complicated for queer theory and LGBT activism. In theory, queer thought is anti-nationalist; it questions identities and views the state and its norms as problematic constructs. In practice, however, when hard-won rights are perceived to be under threat, some LGBT communities may find themselves forming alliances with nationalist discourse, which can open the door to a kind of “liberal Islamophobia.”
Parties with far-right tendencies, such as Germany’s AfD, Le Pen’s RN in France, or For Britain in the UK, actively try to legitimize their anti-immigrant positions by co-opting the language of LGBT rights and women’s freedom. These parties argue that “foreign cultural norms” are what threaten European values, effectively nationalizing a freedom that ought to be universal. A similar line of reasoning is used in the Netherlands, where certain environmentalist but anti-immigrant parties promote the argument that “to protect nature, we must also protect our borders.”
Considering Morrissey’s case, we can say that he dreams of an English national identity that is sensitive to nature, centered on animal rights, literary, and non-meat-eating. In this respect, Morrissey represents an approach that is simultaneously environmentalist, nationalist, individualist, and nostalgic. We could call this a new form of “progressive nationalism” or “cultural European advocacy.” This indicates that European nationalism is no longer primarily based on race but on making cultural superiority visible.
THE LEGACY OF ARBUS AND THE NEW WAVE IN VISUAL REPRESENTATION
The legacy of Diana Arbus still holds influence among contemporary photographers. However, today’s visual culture emphasizes “identities with brand value” over the vulnerability and discomfort her work represented. Contemporary artists such as Wolfgang Tillmans and Zanele Muholi continue to exhibit a critical stance against this new representation of the queer body, but mainstream visibility favors the marketability of queerness over its marginality. This situation inevitably possesses the power to transform queer politics along with queer aesthetics.
In Diana Arbus’s frame, queerness was a source of unease. In Morrissey’s lyrics, marginality was an act of resistance. Today, queerness is sometimes presented as a decorative element, neatly arranged in the system’s shop window. While visibility increases, the core issue of the liberation of difference is relegated to the background. The question now becomes: Are we accepted because we are visible, or have we simply been categorized?