It is not
an easy thing to say, particularly to say publicly in a forum like this for the
whole world to read. But it is the way I have been feeling for the past week or
so.
At the
moment, I am ashamed to be Irish.
On November
14, the Irish Times published an article telling the story of Savita Halappanavar, who died in an Irish hospital on October
28. The immediate cause of death was septicaemia,
more commonly known as blood poisoning, resulting from the miscarriage of a
foetus in the 17th week of pregnancy.
A tragedy.
Something which commonly happened a hundred years ago, which – thankfully –
seldom happens now, at least in developed countries with a generally well
functioning health system.
The massive
septicaemia was able to take hold because Savita spent three days in a
condition of cervical dilation with amniotic fluid leaking. There is an
overwhelming medical consensus that in such a situation the foetus is not
viable and will inevitably die. The basic medical procedure is, therefore, to
terminate the pregnancy as quickly as possible in order to avoid the kind of
complication which killed Savita. As a medical professional (a dentist), Savita
was well aware of this and repeatedly over the three days begged that the birth
be induced so that her life could be saved – a procedure which is, technically,
an abortion. According to her husband, she was told that this was not possible,
because Ireland
was “a Catholic country.” Savita spent three days in great pain until the
foetal heartbeat finally ceased without outside assistance and the dead foetus
was removed. In all probability, the septicaemia had gained such a hold during
this time that it was impossible to combat.
In all
probability, Savita need not have died.
Abortion
has always been illegal in Ireland
(well, at least since 1867). Around thirty years ago, a number of right-wing
Catholics decided that this was not enough. They argued that there was a danger
that the elected politicians might some day decide to change the law, that, as
they saw it, the right to life of the unborn child needed to be copper-fastened
in the Irish constitution. In Ireland,
the constitution cannot be changed by parliament; any amendment must be
approved by a popular vote. A well-orchestrated public campaign began.
I remember
it well; it was extremely sophisticated and very nasty. Anyone who expressed
doubts about the wisdom of such a course was immediately accused of being
pro-abortion, politicians were put under pressure, questions of the wisdom of
trying to constitutionally regulate such a complex area of law, morality and
religious belief were swept aside. Though I was a member of the Dominican Order
of the Catholic Church at the time, I remember feeling very uncomfortable about
the whole thing; even leaving aside my (perhaps for a “professional” Catholic
unusual) personal doubts about the moral clarity of a blanket condemnation of
abortion, and my deep reluctance as a man to take a definitive position on
something which I regarded as really being a women’s issue, I felt that
changing the constitution was no way to deal with the subject.
I voted
against the amendment. Not that it mattered – it was passed by a two-thirds
majority. Four years after the pope had come to visit, the Irish people felt a
need to express how Catholic they were. The fact that any Irish woman who had
the courage, the necessary information (and the money) could easily travel to Britain to have
an abortion was generally known, accepted, disapproved of, ignored, and
conveniently forgotten. Holy Catholic Ireland had won a famous victory against
the menacing forces of godless international liberal left-wing secularism.
Nine years
later that victory came back to haunt the self-proclaimed “pro-lifers.” The
wording of the eighth amendment had been framed to try to comprehensively
express Catholic teaching in a positive formulation:
“The State acknowledges the right to life of
the unborn and, with due regard to the equal right to life of the mother,
guarantees in its laws to respect, and, as far as practicable, by its laws to
defend and vindicate that right.” (Irish Constitution, Article 40.3.3°)
The parents
of a 14 year old girl who had been raped by a neighbour planned to take their
daughter to England
for an abortion (the so called X case). Their principle reason for this was because the victim had threatened
suicide should she be forced to give birth to the child. Before going to England, the
authorities were asked whether DNA from the aborted foetus could be used as
evidence against the accused rapist. The state applied for a court injunction
to prevent the girl from leaving the country, the issue quickly landed before
the Supreme Court, which ruled that it was constitutionally permissible for the
girl to obtain an abortion as the danger of suicide constituted a threat to her
life and so was a case which fell under the category of “due regard to the
equal right to life of the mother.” Ironically, the danger of the amendment
actually providing a constitutional ground for abortion in certain
circumstances had been pointed out by its opponents during the campaign leading
up to the referendum (among others by Alan Shatter, who is now the Irish
Minister for Justice), but this opinion had been dismissed by its proponents.
(In the event, the girl had a miscarriage before she could travel to England,
the rapist was subsequently convicted.)
 |
| Justicia, ironically, is female |
In a wider
context, the eighth amendment, the X case, two further attempted (and rejected)
“pro-life” amendments, as well as a number of other cases
taken through the courts all the way to Europe, can all be seen as part of an
ongoing transition of values in Ireland, particularly with regard to the waning
influence of the Catholic Church in the country. But this provides only part of
the background to Savita’s tragic and scandalous death a few weeks ago.
In the
course of the past twenty years, the judges in the Irish Supreme Court and the
European Court of Human Rights have been explicitly critical of the failure of
the Irish Dáil (parliament) to legislate concretely for the whole area of the
termination of pregnancies, even within the extremely limited circumstances
they have defined as existing according to the eighth amendment to the constitution
following the X Case. The judges have pointed out that it is their job to
interpret the law; it is the duty of legislators to make it, to give practical form to the consequences of the
interpretations provided by the courts. For twenty years now Irish governments
(containing every significant political party in the state with the exception
of Sinn Fein [the radical left-wing party which has historically been the
political wing of the IRA] in one coalition or another) have frequently
promised action and done … nothing.
As a
result, doctors, counsellors, and other care professionals have no clear legal
guidelines when it comes to dealing with specific situations. It is possible
that the doctors in Savita’s case were reluctant to terminate the hopeless
pregnancy because they could not be sure that they might be acting illegally
and thus exposing themselves to possible (however unlikely) judicial
consequences. This is all the more ironic, given that that the termination of
her pregnancy could even possibly be justified by a line of argument following
traditional Catholic moral philosophy using the Principle of Double Effect
(a line of reasoning which has always struck me as being just a little too clever; casuistry, in other words).
Whatever.
Why have Irish politicians failed to legislate to regulate such cases, to
provide legal certainty for all involved? There are two possible reasons, both
reprehensible.
It may be
that they are just indifferent. The situation of pregnant women with health or
serious mental conflict issues just isn’t important enough for them.
Or, more
deeply, perhaps they are simply afraid. Afraid of the negative image of them
the vituperative groups calling themselves “pro-life” are capable of and expert
in projecting of them. Any politician who supports any legislation to legalise
abortion, even in the most limited of cases, will be open to be portrayed as “anti-life,”
“murderer,” promiscuous, irreligious, anti-Catholic, even, somehow, not truly
Irish. An exhibition of honesty and backbone might well be toxic at the
ballot-box, especially if the well-organised and well-funded (there are reasons
to believe that large sums flow from the religious right-wing in the USA)
anti-abortion groups decide to run negative campaigns against them.
The
horrible thing about it is that they may be right. I have a sneaking fear that
large numbers of my compatriots are still deeply influenced by a
self-righteous, holier-than-thou picture of themselves as “pro-lifers,” secure
in a reality-denying mindset made possible by the fact that any woman who
really wants an abortion can easily go to godless England and get it there. And we
won’t talk about it honestly. A nasty Irish version of “don’t ask, don’t tell.”
Maybe I am
too pessimistic. Maybe the erosion of that particular narrow-minded hypocritical
version of Catholicism which dominated Ireland for a large part of the past
century has finally reached a stage where my countrywomen and men are finally
prepared to be honest with themselves, to face up to hard truths and harder
realities about their collective responsibility for the society they want to
make for themselves in a world in which moral opinions about the rights and
wrongs of what people do (especially in the whole complex area of relationships,
sex and reproduction) are informed more by humility, tolerance, compassion and honest
doubt than simplistic expressions of religiously grounded infallibility.
There are
all sorts of things I could write here about the difficult question of
abortion. About the women I know who have had one and have told me about it. About
the agonising they went through concerning their decision, both before and
after. About serious moral arguments in favour of abortion. About the dangers
of black-and-white absolutist arguments and the use of horrible emotive
language and images to browbeat those who may not agree with you. About the
fundamental truth that women become pregnant and men can’t and that, therefore,
this is one issue where women should be leading the discussions and decisions
on the subject and men should be playing a subordinate role.
But precisely
because this is primarily a women’s issue, I, as a man, won’t go into any of
these points more deeply here. I will only hope that the Irish will become more
honest with themselves, that their politicians will face up to their
responsibilities and at least legislate for the very limited, specific cases of
abortion allowed by the present constitution. Of course, ideally I would like
to see a more general debate leading to the replacement of that misbegotten
1983 amendment to the constitution, but I honestly don’t think that’s going to
happen in the near future.
But Savita’s
case may just have started a ball rolling. The pressure of public opinion, both
within Ireland
and worldwide, will probably twist the politicians’ arms enough to make them legislate
for cases like hers. Then this beautiful, vibrant woman won’t have died
completely in vain.
And perhaps
then, my feeling of shame at being Irish will start to fade.
This is not a great version of the song, but the Boomtown Rats' music is as inaccessible on YouTube as that of Bob Dylan - at least here in Germany. But it really did have to be this song!
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