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Published: 29th April, 2011
by JOSH LOEB

A PRIEST and psychotherapist living in self-imposed exile in London because of violent homophobia in his native Latvia has spoken about finding sanctuary in the West End.

Maris Sants, who works in a coffee house in Winnett Street, Soho, was excommunicated from the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Latvia in 2002 because of his sexuality, and his case was highlighted by Amnesty International after he was attacked by anti-gay thugs.

In the years after he came out as gay, the 45-year-old found himself the focus of much attention in the media.

People came from far and wide to congregate outside the church in Riga where he officiated but instead of listening to his sermons the skinhead visitors held placards condemning homosexuality.

Some even threw excrement or violently attacked him, abuse which caused Mr Sants to emigrate to London.

The Metropolitan Police recently reported an increase in homophobic attacks in the West End. Appalling recent incidents include one in April when gay socialite Philip Sallon was beaten in the street near Piccadilly Circus in the early hours and Soho recently became the focus of a media frenzy after a gay couple claimed they were asked to leave a pub when someone objected to them kissing.

Nonetheless, compared with Latvia, the heart of Westminster is a paragon of tolerance, and for Mr Sants, living in a place where he does not stand out because of his sexuality is an exciting novelty. “One thing I have experi­enced since coming to London is that I have for­gotten I am gay,” he said. “By this I mean I have forgotten what it feels like to be different, which is something new and wonderful. Here people don’t recognise me in the street. They don’t point and say ‘He is gay. He is different.’ I would almost say that I am healed because of this.”  

Growing up in the 1980s, Mr Sants attended church secretly in the hope that religion might help him overcome what he regarded at the time as his immoral impulses. 

He said: “I thought that perhaps I should kill myself because I was a man who wanted to commit crimes.”

Gay relationships were illegal in Latvia until the early 1990s, and homophobia remains widespread.

“There was a time in around 2005 when, possibly for a year or two, I was one of only two publicly known gay guys in the whole country,” said Mr Sants. “Those who came out, most of them had to immediately emigrate. By the time I came out at the age of 36 I had been through different healing programmes. I had been to psychiatrists and psychotherapists and had gone to ‘ex-gay’ ministries with evangelical Christians who believe homosexuality can be cured. When I turned 33 a serious thing happened and I understood – and this was really like a revelation – that actually it was completely OK. I understood then that hiding my homosexuality was a sin.”

Following his excommunication from the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Latvia, Mr Sants founded a congregation that was open to all, regardless of sexual orientation. 

It hosted the inaugural LGBT Pride march in Riga, an event marred by violence from anti-gay protesters.

Mr Sants’s experiences have made him a firm believer in education as a means of combating hate crime, and he supports Peter Tatchell’s campaign to urge Prince William and Kate Middleton to express support for same-sex marriages.

The Anglican church’s attitude to homosexuality is, he said, “not ideal”. But he added that he attends an Anglican church every Sunday. 

“There is still lots of pain because people don’t feel completely accepted,” he said. “Although there are lots of wonderful churches like St Martin-in-the-Fields.”

Despite some room for improvement, Mr Sants believes London is one of the most enlightened places on Earth in terms of how gay people are treated.

“Homophobia exists all over the world,” he said. “But here in the West End most gays don’t keep quiet. So when we say ‘Oh, how can it be that in Piccadilly Circus someone was attacked just for being gay?’ well, in the East End, or Corby or Derby possibly, someone might be attacked if he would dare hold hands or do something else which we have completely gotten used to doing in Old Compton Street. In London there are, at least, not many places where you would be in danger if you were seen kissing a guy.”