| | | Editorials | Opinions | November 2008
Another Religious 'War' in Mexico Rina Jimenez-David - Philippine Daily Inquirer go to original
| | In Mexico City, which is governed by a progressive socialist, the long struggle for reproductive health and rights culminated in the recent passage of a law lifting all restrictions on abortion. | | | | One need only pay a visit to the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe to realize how deeply religious the Mexicans are. As pilgrims stream in through the gate, a number grab attention mainly because they have come on their knees, slowly making their way across the cobbled courtyard.
Many of them are women, some carrying babies and young children, mumbling prayers. I notice one middle-aged man, crawling painfully across the expanse in front of the “new” Shrine, the modernistic structure built to make room for the increasing numbers of devotees and tourists who have gathered through the years. His face clearly registers the pain and effort it is taking him to reach the shrine, and from time to time he pauses to rub his knees and thighs.
There is a Mass being celebrated inside the Shrine, and as we approach the altar, bearing our plastic bags filled with rosaries and images of Our Lady for the anticipated blessing, a member of our party nudges me and whispers: “Did you notice, there are so many men attending Mass?”
And yet this is the source of much of the tension within Mexico these days, a result of a silent struggle between those who would want to see this religious fervor reflected in its laws and governance, and those who would keep faith and politics separate and isolated from each other.
Mexico has struggled for much of its history to create a secular state, limiting, if not curtailing entirely, the influence the Church wields in the public space. When we ask who Mexico’s national hero is, we’re told it’s Benito Juarez who in the 19th century led anti-clerical forces in creating a “real” separation between Church and State, with laws enacted preventing any sort of participation in public affairs by priests and bishops, and even outlawing the wearing of priestly garb in public.
But those restrictions have eased considerably since, with reproductive health activists tracing this to 1992 when then President Carlos Salinas, in the context of a global focus on human rights, responded to complaints about violations of the human rights of the clergy by repealing anti-clerical laws.
These days, it seems the pendulum has swung to the other side. The conservative government of President Felipe Calderon has allowed the increasing influence of the Church, appointing officials with strong and obvious links to such ultra-conservative Catholic groups like the Opus Dei and the Legionnaires of Christ, a lay movement that was created during the visit of Pope John Paul II to Mexico.
Working through elected officials, conservative Catholics have managed to pass laws in two states extending protection to the unborn from conception—and in one state even from fertilization. There is considerable tension within the Department of Health, with the minister struggling to create policy and implement programs for maternal health and family planning, while hamstrung by the head of his legal department who was appointed through the influence of Catholic conservatives.
The conflict between socially progressive forces and the conservative but politically influential groups came to a head with the recent lifting of restrictions on the termination of pregnancy by the Mexico City government.
The agitation for an expanded abortion law has its roots in the story of Paulina, says Maria Consuelo Mejia, executive director of the Catolicas por el Derecho a Decidir (CDD), or Catholics for the Right to Decide.
In 2000, says Mejia, thieves broke into the home (in Baja California state) of Paulina, then 13, and in the course of holding the family hostage, raped the young girl who was subsequently found to be pregnant. When they brought their daughter to the village hospital for an abortion (the procedure is legal in a number of Mexican states), Paulina’s parents were confronted by a doctor who refused to perform the procedure. He then isolated Paulina, and brought in a team of lawyers, pro-life activists and a priest to convince her against the procedure, telling the girl that if she consented to an abortion, she would die.
When the parents brought suit against the doctor and hospital, a huge public outcry ensued. In a TV interview, the local bishop insisted that Paulina had no right to seek an abortion, saying she should be “punished.” When the interviewer pointed out that Paulina had been raped, he still insisted that Paulina had the duty to bear her child.
Paulina’s story led to a growing awareness of the almost-routine violation of the reproductive rights of women and girls. In Mexico City, which is governed by a progressive socialist, the long struggle for reproductive health and rights culminated in the recent passage of a law lifting all restrictions on abortion. The campaign was spearheaded by a coalition of women’s and human rights groups, as well as an alliance of youth organizations, that employed creative strategies to raise awareness among young people.
Soon after the law’s passage, a Catholic lawyers’ group brought suit before the administrative court, and on the eve of the issuance of the court’s decision, the archbishop of Mexico went on TV, an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe and the flag of Mexico behind him, urging the members of the court to find the law unconstitutional.
Instead, nine of the 12 members of the court upheld the abortion law’s constitutionality, giving the reproductive health and rights movement in Mexico a boost. Although, as Mejia points out, the struggle continues, with more challenges mounted by what looks like a highly organized, well-funded international conspiracy. |
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