 |
| The March for Life begins, 11th May, 2019. |
Something must have gone deeply wrong in our society, I thought to myself the other Saturday, if someone as wary as I am of political controversy feels obliged to go out demonstrating on the streets. Yet here I was, swelling the numbers of the
March for Life in London (11th May, 2019), having decided that I could not really, in good conscience, stay away.
Well, something has indeed gone deeply wrong in our society. Maybe it has many causes, maybe we did not mean it, and maybe it is a new form of an old sin, but I think it is real, it is gravely dangerous, and it has got down into the foundations. We have forgotten that children are gifts. That is the problem: until they join the ranks of independent adults, we are no longer entirely sure what they are for; we worry too much about what they will cost us, and we fear their destabilising effect on the centre of gravity of our lives.
And we have a particular blind spot where unborn children are concerned. It seems that we really would rather not think too much about them, for in our age of amazing material wealth and technological advancement, in which we profess to be civilised and compassionate, we contradict ourselves. Even as advancement after embryological advancement clarifies the miracle of the child in the womb —
the fingerprints at seventeen weeks, the
heartbeat at twenty-one days, the
dreaming at seven months — the disagreement about the morality of abortion jostles on unresolved. Worse still, it is taking on an alarming new shape, and the tone of the discussion is deteriorating rapidly. It is becoming plainer than ever that the attitude with which the Abortion Act was apparently passed in 1967 — a degree of reluctance, and a determination that abortion should be reserved for extreme cases only — is vanishing, to be replaced by a far more radical, far less circumspect current of thought. Louder and louder voices are proclaiming the disturbing idea that abortion is not simply to be permitted with regret, but to be promoted positively, even celebrated, as a right or liberty of women. As it is, nearly 200,000 abortions now take place in England and Wales every year, adding catastrophically to the current total of nine million in the fifty years since the Act became law — yet there are those who want Parliament to declare abortion available as a matter of course, without restriction, as the standard response to what they call an unwanted pregnancy. And they know how to make themselves heard.
 |
| The March passes the headquarters of Channel Four Television |
This appalling idea has gathered far too much traction among too many people with national responsibilities and influence, especially in Parliament and among the media. And, all over the place, forces are at work promoting it far and wide. It is this attitude, for example, which a year ago seems to have swayed the referendum on the Eighth Amendment to the constitution of the Republic of Ireland, repealing a clause which — this is a crucial detail — had explicitly given equal legal protection to the lives of mothers and their unborn children. (Every time I remember the nauseating jubilation over the result of that referendum, especially the big supposedly-spontaneous party in Dublin Castle, which embarrassed even many on the pro-choice side, I feel sick in the pit of my guts). Activists have the pro-life provisions of the law in Northern Ireland in their sights. And it is not just a question of law, for the prevailing attitude of mainstream culture seems to be pro-choice. At least, pro-choice sentiments in public life are expressed more vocally than pro-life views, and earn more fulsome applause from the fashionable. But that does not necessarily make them right.
The tide may already be turning. The Catholic Church is probably the most prominent of institutions standing up for the unborn, but we are not alone. What is more, science is our ally, steadily vindicating our convictions that human life begins at the moment of conception, that we must never wilfully destroy human life, that abortion is therefore never the answer to a crisis pregnancy, and that there is always another way. Meanwhile, bitter experience is confirming, at considerable cost, that it also does great damage to women and is a grievous offence against their dignity.
 |
| A view backwards from the same position and at the same time as the picture above |
The March for Life has for several years offered a way of making a visible sign of our wish to change things, and to promote alternatives to abortion. Having been held in Birmingham for several years, the March moved to London in 2018. I thought a great deal about it before I decided to join in, and paid very careful attention to its aims and flavour, but I found it entirely reasonable. I know that abortion is a politically controversial subject, but I cannot really help that. This matter goes deeper than politics, all the way down to the moral foundations of our society. What do we really believe human life is worth, especially when it is inconvenient? What does it mean when we hardly ever see any people with Down's Syndrome these days, since nine tenths of them are eliminated before birth? I am fundamentally convinced that abortion is a grave injustice, and that we must bring it to an end. One small way of helping to do so, I thought, would be to join this peaceful, good-humoured demonstration, which is growing by the year.
The March for Life takes a reasonable position and tone, having enough confidence in the truth of its message that it has no need to overstate its case. It says its piece calmly, clearly and joyfully. It does not make any kind of swipe at women who have sought or undergone abortions, knowing that in the majority of cases they do so under pressure, or with insufficient guidance, and later regret what has happened: they are often victims as well. There is general agreement that the main villains of the piece are really the abortionists and abortion providers ('Say hey, say ho, Marie Stopes has got to go!'). The March places its emphasis on the humanity and sanctity of unborn life, and on the importance of providing assistance in crisis pregnancies: in short, protecting both mothers and their unborn babies.
The aim of the pro-life movement is not to score a short-term political goal, or to achieve legislative changes alone. The law is quite a blunt instrument if it is unsupported by the underlying culture: all it should ideally have to do is to set the seal on an existing way of doing things. This is why we need to build an authentic culture of life, in which the irreducible dignity of the human being is universally and instinctively recognised wherever it appears, from conception to natural death — and in which children are understood and revered as gifts. This will only be brought about by changing, or honing, the thought of ordinary people. So, a change in minds and hearts is needed more than a change in the law: something trickier to bring about, but truer, longer-lasting, and better for the human family.
So there we were, a good solid crowd — of 5,000, we were told — processing around Westminster, up past Victoria Gardens and right into Parliament Square. I have to say I rather enjoyed myself. There was a remarkably uplifting and joyful atmosphere of goodwill and peace. Maybe it was because many of the people there were, like me, not typical demo-merchants! Or maybe it was because the fundamental message is one of peace and hope, raised in defence of the weakest among us. I saw no placards nor heard any chants that I believed were anywhere near gratuitously offensive. I did see all sorts of people, though — a transect of the whole country (and by no means all Catholics). Some had evidently travelled considerable distances to attend: just in my section of the march there was the Scottish saltire, the flag of Lincolnshire, a placard reading 'Exeter Students for Life' and even the banner of the Gibraltar Pro-Life Movement. I think it is important to note — particularly as far as this matter is concerned — that there were roughly equal numbers of men and women; if anything, women slightly outnumbered men. Equally importantly, all ages were represented: many of our elders, plenty of young families — and easily over a thousand young people, students and other young adults, like me, in their twenties — including a huge number of young women, whose opinion on this matter has perhaps the most clout of all. The pro-life generation was out in force.
A pro-choice counter-demonstration, perhaps seventy or eighty strong, appeared on the pavement of Victoria Street to liven things up, and when we came round to Parliament Square they were waiting for us again. (Labour voters might like to note that Sadiq Khan, the Mayor of London, sent
a message of support to these pro-choicers, rather than to the March for Life.) They waved their bright pink placards and chanted and sang at the tops of their voices, but I like to think the March for Life had a quiet power to which they had no answer. One interesting interaction, which I did not witness in person, can be watched on the
Facebook page of the March for Life. The pro-life presenter approached the pro-choice demonstrators and asked two of them — in a reasonable way — if they would like to explain their position to the camera. And they seemed willing, but before they could speak, they were hastily dissuaded by several of their co-protesters: 'Don't do it, don't do it', one emerged out of nowhere to warn them. So an important opportunity for dialogue was lost.
 |
| Pro-choice counter-demonstration in Parliament Square |
Dialogue would have been very useful, because, in this matter, along with many others, I think there is a certain deafness and misunderstanding between the two sides. We are not even locking horns properly. And I honestly think that it is the pro-choice side, not the pro-life side, that closes itself to dialogue. I think they suspect us of bad faith, and are afraid of speaking to us: they seem to think very little about our motives, and find it easier to dismiss us. They are not particularly interested in the nuances of language, either. Somehow or other they are missing the point: we are not, as they suggest, going around trying to impose ourselves on others because we have nothing better to do with our Saturdays. We are really and deeply convinced that the unborn child is a child, and that abortion is wrong because it destroys this life. I think, too — and this is not meant as a cheap shot — that the pro-choicers are afraid of the weaknesses in their own argument and lack complete confidence in their own position. Recently I heard a pro-life speaker observe that the stakes in the battle are higher for them: if they are wrong, they have to apprehend the reality that nine million lives have been thrown away since 1967. No wonder they dig their heels in and shout and scream. They may have snappier slogans and slicker public relations, but we have authenticity, and that is the only thing that can carry the day in the end.
How do we deal with this? Well, until we can reach the other side by words, we must show them by example and put our convictions into action. As many of us already do, we should give to pro-life charities, or even volunteer for them, and ask our elected representatives what they can do to help. Just as our pro-life principles lead us to stand up for any other poor and marginalised people, we should defend the unborn, without dismissing any of the difficulties that lead people to the abortionist's door.
