If you want to know about a country, have a look at its laws. What does this country find important enough to write down and bind every person to? How are people in society treated by the laws of the land to which they belong to? What do constitutions as historical documents say today, knowing all that we do? It is interesting to compare the laws of different countries to see what values they deem to be important enough to enshrine in law.
The German constitution and statutes (of which there are many) are, most importantly, emotionless. They refuse to let anything but rationality, reason and logic pervade. People’s personal ideas and influences have failed the German people before, and left a swastika-shaped blot on the nation’s collective history. This is a nation that knows its own brevity and that, although people and generations die, the legislation lasts. It is through the law that ideas will continue on into future generations. The Ewigkeits Clause prevents anyone from removing the core clauses which protect human rights and dignity from German law. Nothing is left to chance, or, more accurately, nothing is left to misinterpretation. Every seemingly miniscule detail is accounted for, leaving no room for doubt or discretionary (mis)interpretation.
It says an exorbitant amount about our country that we don’t place enough trust in women to make decisions that concern their own bodies
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The number one rule, metaphorically and literally, in the relatively modern German constitution is the preservation of human rights and dignity. A straightforward admission, contrite at the way German ancestors were treated at the hands of people who wrangled the correct meaning from statutes and manipulated them until they were wholly unrecognisable.
Gender equality is legislated for in German law. Discrimination against sex, race, ability and religion is prohibited. It’s there in black and white, irrefutable and referenceable. No one is worth more or less than anyone else in the eyes of the state. They leave nothing up to interpretation. The legislation reflects the idea of post-World War II Germany as disciplined, fair and strict when it has to be. Germany is now seen as a country to turn to in times of crisis.
The contrasts between the German constitution and the Irish one are clearly evident. Initially, what stands out about Bunreacht na hÉireann, Ireland’s constitution, is its bold statement of Irish on one page and English on the other. This exists in order to acknowledge the differences between and the importance of both languages in our country’s history and culture. The language barrier and difference is tolerable, and a swell of nationalism arises upon reading it. However, the most striking aspect of the Irish constitution is the misogyny that exists within it. This is disturbing at best, and life- threatening at worst.
Women are not fairly accounted for in the Irish constitution. Most notably, Article 41.2 acknowledges that “the State recognises that by her life within the home, woman gives to the State a support without which the common good cannot be achieved”. This condescendingly suggests to women that they’re of more use at home. This is a stark reminder that the constitution would prefer it if a woman became a mother over any other occupation. Try telling that to Mary Robinson or Mary McAleese.
Up until 1990, marital rape was legal in Ireland. This meant that your ability to consent to sex depended on whether you were married or not. If your spouse wanted to have sex, you had sex. Simple as.
The eighth amendment of Bunreacht na hEireann also places the right to life of a grown woman in equal tandem with a foetus that she may not want. Her reasons for not wanting it may be varied, personal and, most importantly, none of the state’s business. Maybe she can’t afford to give a baby the life it deserves, maybe she isn’t emotionally able for children, maybe the foetus came about as a result of sexual assault or rape, maybe this was done at the hands of a family member, maybe having this foetus would literally kill her or maybe she just doesn’t want children.
These examples highlight that religion and a “Christian [and democratic] nature of State” continue to instruct Irish people about how their country should be governed. We wouldn’t have a priest giving instructions in a courtroom, so why do it on paper? No matter what your religious standing (or lack thereof), it says an exorbitant amount about a country that we don’t trust women to make decisions about their own lives. The silence of tacitly accepting and trusting an institution that caters for a specific type of person screams out as a violation to anyone who doesn’t fit into it.
The silence of tacitly accepting and trusting an institution that caters for a specific type of person screams out as a violation to anyone who doesn’t fit into it
The metaphor of the repeal the eighth campaign is important to every citizen in Ireland. The revolution continues a century later. Both sides are out and ready to use their voices for causes they believe in. Irish people are still not content to sit on their laurels and be thankful that things aren’t worse. we know that we are deserving of better. We know that we shouldn’t have to follow the rules of people who aren’t entitled to make them.
Maybe it’s a coincidence, maybe there is no correlation at all, but it’s interesting that in a decade where, in Ireland, there are now more female lawyers than male, that the pro-choice movement has risen in awareness and momentum.
It seems as though we are on the cusp of a wave of change. Women will not accept these asinine limitations any longer. The inveterate Old Boy’s Club of the legal industry has no choice but to be overturned, and hopefully the constitution will follow, because I don’t think a Chief Justice, Director of Public Prosecutions or Attorney General would appreciate being told that it would be better if she wasn’t there.
