Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/1211430
15 maltatoday | SUNDAY • 16 FEBRUARY 2020 NEWS / Even so a woman that got raped is always free to go abroad to kill the unwanted baby in case she got pregnant from rape." Although this argument is based on a poor- ly informed perception of the in- frequency of rape in Malta – sex- ual assault often goes unreported due to a victim-blaming stigma – it nevertheless demonstrates that it is possible to oppose decrimi- nalisation of abortion in Malta and condone 'murder', as long as it happens elsewhere. Another proof of the abortion ban being perceived as part of a national identity in need of pro- tecting comes from the Church. By stating that "our work in fa- vour of life at all stages under- lines our identity as Maltese", Auxiliary Bishop Joseph Galea Curmi implied that the country's devotion to Catholic faith is ri- valed by the Vatican alone – the only other state in Europe which criminalises abortion. President George Vella, too, spoke in favour of the current leg- islation at a recent event organ- ised by the Malta Unborn Child Platform. His presence at the manifestation clearly signalled state support for the anti-choice cause – a national mission that is "on the right side of history." Furthermore, the President ex- pressed doubt about the moral authority of the European Court of Justice where "you're frowned upon if you do not accept abor- tion." Considering that Malta's political crisis and high-profile corruption remain a subject of international scrutiny, Vella's statement is indeed politically loaded. Outsiders – immoral 'baby-killers' – are in no position to criticise the only remaining bastion of Christian values in Eu- rope. In other words, upholding Malta's abortion ban is a way of asserting national moral superi- ority. And it could be the authorities' effective means of diminishing international criticism, under- mining verdicts of the European Court of Human Rights, and by extension – possibly brushing off the demands of constitutional re- forms altogether. Between 'progress' and 'tradi- tion' As Aleksandar Dimitrijevic, di- rector of Men against Violence, pointedly observed, the official demands to reform laws against abortion by the Council of Eu- rope's Human Rights Commis- sioner receive little support from the rule of law advocates in Mal- ta. Civil society groups, striving to bring Maltese legislation in line with the rest of 'normal' Europe- an countries, usually so attentive to international assessment, turn a deaf ear to the calls for abolish- ing the abortion ban. What could be the reason for such a selective commitment to human rights as defined by international legal bodies? Contemporary politics in Mal- ta has been a trade-off between 'progress' and 'tradition'. For the past few decades, the young independent republic sought to establish itself as a modern Eu- ropean state while, at the same time, remaining under the tight grip of the Catholic Church. An ambiguous compromise between embracing progress and preserv- ing traditions has been reached on the basis of two criteria: prof- it-making and national pride. 'Progress' came in a financial- ly lucrative form: free market economics, construction boom, luxury mega-developments, and 'blockchain island' fantasies. Corinthia chairman and found- er Alfred Pisani pompously en- couraged his compatriots to "al- ways accept progress" – unless, it seems, this progress is unprofita- ble and undermines the authori- ty of the Church, the guardian of conservative traditions. A progressive stance on repro- ductive rights, thus, barely enjoys a fraction of the state's enthusi- asm for 'progressive' elite prop- erty developments. What about Malta's LGBTIQ legislation? Some may argue that by becoming the first country in Europe to ban gay conversion therapy in 2016 – and by legal- ising same-sex marriage a year later – the Maltese state has de- clared its committment to pro- gressive social policy. Seen from a different perspective, however, this was rather a win for national pride. The reform gave even con- servative locals a reason to savor the international recognition and be proud of Malta leaping ahead of the curve in something, com- pared to the rest of Europe. In the case of abortion, it is pre- cisely the blanket ban that makes Malta 'special' in the eyes of its citizens – distinct from other formally secular European states. Defending the country's role as a citadel of superior morality, be- sieged by 'baby-killers', could be a seductively heroic narrative. Also, the abortion ban as an untoucha- ble 'tradition' may function as an apparent compensation for the loss of natural and architectural heritage, sacrificed on the altar of economic 'progress'. Institutionalised stigmatisation of women "Does our President consid- er his citizens who have had an abortion, murderers?" Voice For Choice-L-għażla Tagħha asked in response to George Vella's pro-life endorsement. This is cer- tainly one of the most pertinent questions of the debate. Another question: if abortion is murder, why does the punishment for induced miscarriage range from eighteen months to three and four years of imprisonment? Isn't this too mild a punishment for murderers? As noted by former Labour deputy mayor Desirée Attard in her doctoral thesis, the Criminal Code itself implies that "a wom- an's life is more valuable than that of the foetus." As per Article 242, the punishment for performing an abortion that results in the death of the woman is that of life imprisonment. This disparity in punishment – four years versus a life sentence – "means that the law recognises that a foetus is not a person", unlike a woman. Thus, if the legislators did not equate abortion with wilful hom- icide in 1854, what makes this an acceptable argument in 2020? Such contradictions further re- veal the deeply ideological basis of the pro-life argument, whose goal is to preserve the conserva- tive status quo by denying wom- en an established human right and exerting control over their bodies. Apart from being legally in- correct, equating abortion with murder means regarding women who have undergone the pro- cedure as murderers. This is no less than a means of institutional oppression and ostracisation of women. Both the endorsement of the anti-choice perspective by the President and the common perception that links it to Maltese identity and national morality celebrate Malta as a conservative patriarchal state. Society and the state force Mal- tese women into shame for ac- cessing a healthcare service avail- able to women in the absolute majority of countries worldwide. Such marginalisation, reinforced stigma and cultivation of guilt are detrimental to women's psycho- logical and social well-being; they cause loss of self-esteem and in- duce fear of abandonment. With a blessing of both the state and society, the 'pro-life' camp turns fellow women citizens into out- casts who must suffer in silence. Is stigmatising compatriots a sound basis for moral righteous- ness? It is precisely the blanket ban that makes Malta 'special' in the eyes of its citizens – distinct from other formally secular European states. Defending the country's role as a citadel of superior morality, besieged by 'baby- killers', could be a seductively heroic narrative