Fionn McGorry | Contributing Writer
In his epitaph to his son Damon, April Fool’s Day, the late South African-Australian novelist Bryce Courtenay wrote of his son Damon’s life as a haemophiliac, and eventual death as a result of having contracted HIV through blood transfusion. The text is a thorough reflection by Courtenay on his son’s humility, charm, and stoicism in the face of an incredibly difficult set of challenges: haemophilia and AIDS. In April Fool’s Day, there is a passage I vividly remember concerning the MSM (men who have sex with men) blood donation ban which was implemented in Australia in response to the AIDS epidemic. He lambasts the members of the gay community at the time who objected to this blood donation ban. His comments came from a place where he viewed one person’s freedom from something as being greater than a person’s freedom to do something, and, in cases of life or death, one can see why. I do not recall these comments being hostile to gay people generally, but rather supportive of a measure which, with the limited information available at the time, was seen as a reasonable safety measure.
HIV/AIDS is a phenomenon on which there is still a significant deficit in public understanding. Matthew Mulligan of Trinity News wrote an editorial recently in which he urged the MSM Blood Donation Ban to be abolished, and urged greater awareness of sexual health and STI prevention – a sentiment which has the potential to save lives.
The text reveals, to a young person who never saw it themselves, the environment of fear and uncertainty which existed, and the tragedy that this epidemic was.
In the late Timothy Conigrave’s autobiography Holding the Man, he wrote of his acquisition of AIDS and the death of his beloved John to the disease. This is another text which warms the heart, and is revealing and hilarious, yet is absolutely tragic in the most profound way. Conigrave details his life growing up as gay in Melbourne, attending the Jesuit secondary school Xavier College where he met John, and describes John’s family’s hostile attitude to the relationship. He details the experience of the two of them succumbing to AIDS – with John dying first, only a year or so before Tim himself died – leaving the book to be published posthumously. It is an incredibly important text, in that it charts the emergence of AIDS in the public consciousness, first as GRID, or Gay-related Immune Deficiency, and discusses the fears of a “gay cancer” and the attached social stigma. The text reveals, to a young person who never saw it themselves, the environment of fear and uncertainty which existed, and the tragedy that this epidemic was.
It is in this environment, in 1985, in which the ban on men who have sex with men, even only once in their lives, donating blood was introduced in Ireland. At the time, when there was a clear observation that the group most likely to attract HIV was gay men, and little else was known about the condition, it was absolutely a reasonable measure to introduce. However, when a greater awareness exists surrounding the riskiness of particular sexual behaviours, it seems that the maintenance of a life ban is nothing but discrimination. Most people tend not to leap at the opportunity to have a needle inserted into their arm to draw blood, but when one doesn’t have the opportunity to even consider this, it is an affront to dignity.
Every year the Phil, the society in College which is my home, organises a blood drive among its active members. Every year, there is a substantial portion of willing donors who can’t participate in the drive by virtue of the fact that they are gay, British, or too thin. There was one memorable hat-trick, manifested in one member who met all three of these characteristics. We joke about how so few of us are eligible to donate, and there are clear reasons why there are specific restrictions on donation. A few years ago some individuals on this blood drive wrote a letter to the Irish Blood Transfusion Service objecting to the anachronistic policy of a life ban on MSM donation. The service have always provided reasoned responses to such questions, and note that MSM are still a very high risk group for HIV, hence the need for some restrictions simply for safety of the blood supply. This is understandable. However, the current policy of a life ban leaves resources of blood entirely inaccessible. Even if, as is contended, the impact of the ban on supply is fairly minimal, the notion that these resources can never be called upon in times of need is discomforting.
Though maintaining a year-long ban is still discrimination, and doesn’t remove the notion that gay blood is “dirty” and that gay people are contaminated, it is at least a pragmatic response.
Recently, Minister for Health Leo Varadkar called for the ban to be reduced from a lifelong ban to a 12-month deferral period, whereby a man who had not had sex with a man for a year would be permitted to donate. This is a practice adopted in numerous countries, from Finland to Australia to the United Kingdom, and statistically has posed no threat to the safety of the blood supply, especially as all blood which is taken is tested. I posted another letter on the Facebook event page of this year’s Phil blood drive to be forwarded to the Irish Blood Transfusion Service, and have received dozens of messages from my peers adding their names as counter-signatories.
Though maintaining a year-long ban is still discrimination, and doesn’t remove the notion that gay blood is “dirty” and that gay people are contaminated, it is at least a pragmatic response. One can acknowledge the concerns of the IBTS, and this alleviates those concerns, while simultaneously removing some level of discrimination. A healthy, plentiful blood supply is essential, and structural inequalities shouldn’t prevent us from achieving one.
