Why Are More Gay Men Voting for the Far Right?
The rise of homo-nativism, and other social science data supporting this trend
Ahead of the 2024 European elections, gay dating portal Romeo in Germany, in partnership with the magazine Männer, surveyed its users’ voting preferences. The results, if even close to accurate, were startling. They showed the far-right AfD as the party of choice for a relative majority of 22.3% of gay men, followed by the CDU/CSU (conservatives) and the Greens, each at around 20.5%. If these numbers hold, gay men would be more likely to back the far right than the average German voter in the European elections.
European Parliament elections have long served as an outlet for voters to voice dissatisfaction with mainstream parties, often producing more radical outcomes than national elections. Seen through that lens, the survey results might seem less surprising.
Yet consider this: a (granted, dated) poll following France’s 2015 regional elections found the far-right Front National was more popular among married gay men than among the general population.
Consistent data tracking gay men’s voting patterns across elections is scarce, which in itself is revealing. Still, the few data points available demand closer scrutiny. Below is my attempt to unpack these trends.
First, it’s crucial to understand that gay men are not a monolithic voting bloc. Some prioritize collective rights; others are more concerned with individual status and acceptance. Their voting choices are layered and rarely driven by a single issue. Just as not all Latino voters rejected Trump over immigration policies — in fact, many did not — don’t expect all gay men to back parties that explicitly defend LGBTQ rights.
Understanding this shift means looking at intersecting dynamics.
I’ve written before about what drives average voters in democratic societies toward the far right. A key observation was that certain groups feel abandoned or unheard by mainstream parties. This applied in recent U.S. elections but, more broadly, across fast-changing post-industrial societies in the West.
One group that has steadily drifted not just rightward, but beyond, is men.
Take the rising male suicide rate in the U.S., now nearly four times that of women, according to the CDC (source ). Or consider the steep and ongoing decline in male college enrollment. These aren’t isolated statistics; they reflect structural challenges facing men as a group. Yet they rarely feature in political debate. These concerns — mental health, social mobility, educational decline — are also realities for gay men, often compounded by other forms of marginalization.
Against a backdrop of growing acceptance of LGBTQ people over recent decades, many gay men may no longer feel their sexual identity is under direct threat. But their identity as men remains significant. When they feel ignored or dismissed, some may gravitate toward parties that claim to address those anxieties. The shift, then, is less about abandoning LGBTQ rights and more about turning toward narratives that promise to restore order, recognition, or control.
This dynamic appears stronger in multi-party systems, where a wider political spectrum lets voters prioritize issues differently. In these settings, some gay voters may back far-right parties with the tacit assumption that their extreme views — particularly on human or gay rights — will be softened in coalition governments.
Another explanation gaining ground is homo-nativism, a political stance combining progressive views on homosexuality with hostility toward immigrants. Research from LSE suggests voters with this profile made up 31% of the UK electorate (source ). It’s possible that more gay men, mirroring broader society, are adopting this outlook — and finding their political home in far-right parties.
This is especially plausible where far-right parties focus primarily on nationalism and anti-immigrant sentiment — such as in Northern Europe and Scandinavia — rather than on traditional Christian morality. In Spain or Italy, by contrast, the far right is often rooted in culturally conservative visions of the family, openly rejecting gay rights alongside immigration. There, gay voters have more reason to view these parties as direct threats.
In Britain, the Netherlands, and Scandinavia, far-right parties have framed their messaging around stark binaries — security versus threat, tolerance versus extremism — with gay rights positioned as a hard-won liberal value now endangered by migration, especially from Muslim countries.
Take Nigel Farage’s Reform UK as an example. Its platform is fundamentally nativist, and one must dig deep into the manifesto to find overt discriminatory language. That nuance often fails to shape public perception. Contrast this with Vox in Spain or the Brothers of Italy and Lega parties, where hostility toward queerness is overt and unmistakable.
Visibility also matters. When far-right parties promote openly gay figures — like the AfD’s top candidate in Germany — it sends a clear message: voting for us can be compatible with being gay. This normalizes the idea that identity and ideology don’t have to follow expected lines. For some voters, such representation offers permission to reconcile political contradictions.
History offers cautionary lessons. Early gestures of acceptance toward gay people have sometimes coexisted with authoritarian impulses, lasting only as long as convenient.
Consider Hitler’s tolerance of Ernst Röhm’s homosexuality, valued while Röhm advanced Nazi goals but abandoned when he became expendable. An interesting story for another time, but a wake up call for the sexual minority voters toying with the idea of supporting the radical right.
