New Strategies Needed to Counter Taiwan’s Proposed Abortion Referendum

At present, under Taiwanese law, abortions must be carried out within 24 weeks of pregnancy. Unmarried women may obtain an abortion by claiming one of six circumstances. Most relate to the health of the mother or fetus, with the “detrimental to mental health or family life” clause being sufficiently broad enough to cover any unmarried woman who wishes to seek an abortion. Married women must obtain spousal consent (which is deeply wrong but is best left for another debate).

Medical professionals in Taiwan have called the proposal problematic, noting that eight weeks is too early to detect chromosomal abnormalities. Fatal defects, such as problems with the development of the fetal heart, are also detected after this time period, at 11 to 13 weeks. “Structural abnormalities”—problems with the physical development of the fetus that can be fatal—are often detected even later, in the second trimester. Conditions fatal to the mother or child may appear even later than that.

Many women don’t realize they’re pregnant at six or even eight weeks, meaning that a woman might not know she is pregnant in time to seek an abortion under an eight-week ban. Regardless, only a tiny minority of abortions are later-term (after 13 weeks), and almost all are due to either health issues of the mother or fetus, or logistical delays (i.e. lack of earlier access to abortion). 

Regardless, the bodily autonomy of the individual is sacrosanct: If you die with viable organs for donation, they cannot be taken from your corpse if you had not previously agreed to organ donation. If you are the only possible living donor of an expendable body part to a dying person, the needed material cannot be taken from you without your consent, even if it results in their death. Even if you believe that a fetus is a person, with all the rights of a person, it is still not acceptable to hijack the body of an adult woman to maintain that “person’s” life. 

The debate over this proposed referendum, and the strategies of the Christian right, are reminiscent of the fight for marriage equality in the face of three anti-equality referendums that were voted upon in Taiwan in late 2018. Both the anti-equality campaign and the anti-choice campaign the Christian right is embarking on ultimately deny the humanity of those whose rights they seek to restrict.

Remember, however, that despite heated debate, all three referendums passed.

Those of us who advocate for a liberal, progressive, modern Taiwan lost that fight. We held rallies, and people like us attended them. We made stickers and buttons, and people who agreed with us wore them. We galvanized some volunteers, but not enough, and far too late. We raised money—too little, and too late. We talked endlessly about the issue on Facebook and PTT, where the disproportionately young users were most likely to agree with what they were hearing.

We told ourselves that it was no use to talk to our parents and older relatives. It would “cause too much friction,” we reasoned, and “they can’t be convinced anyway.” We kept our heads down when some of those older relatives demanded that our cousins vote against equality. Many of us stayed silent in community LINE groups while members opposed to gay marriage made their cases and won votes. While we stayed silent, made quick retorts and quicker exits, and tried to appeal to rationality and liberal values, the anti-equality groups appealed to emotion and tradition, backed by little beyond fear and a specious or outright fabricated idea of what Taiwan’s cultural values are, or should be.

While we talked to ourselves online and at rallies, they stood outside MRT stations and talked to anyone who would give them a passing glance. While we put brochures in coffee shops full of like-minded patrons, they put them in restaurants with diverse clientele—the places your parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts would go. They offered a simple solution to soothe the consciences of these more conservative voters: Look, we care about what you care about, they intoned. We want Taiwan to be the way you want it to be. And you’re not homophobic if you vote for our initiatives—see, we want to protect the rights of homosexuals, just not through marriage!

Worst of all, we did not vote because we didn’t think the referendums would pass. But our grandparents and conservative peers did, and they won. 

We thought simply being right was enough, and that reasoned debate – though mostly among ourselves—would win the day. It did not. If political events in Taiwan, and throughout the world, over the past few years have taught us anything, it is that appeals to emotion, tradition and fear—the stuffing that keeps reactionary populist straw men standing—can easily win when our “being right” is not backed up with enough emotion, or determination.

Not all of it was our fault, of course: we did not have the organizational networks that the Christian groups had, nor ‘authorities’ who could insist their followers post in LINE groups and pass out literature, as church leaders did. We did not have the funding sources they did, either. And yet, we could have done more.

You can expect the same strategies from the right in the abortion debate. They will be well-funded and organized, as Christian groups tend to be. They will probably receive assistance from international Christian and far-right groups, as did the push against marriage equality. Having no logical argument, they will appeal to emotion. They will characterize fetuses as “children,” terming abortion “murder” and women who have pregnancies they don’t want (or can’t carry) as “sluts” or “evil women” who don’t want to be mothers. In a society still grappling with gender equality—as most, if not all, societies are—these ideas will take hold in the minds of the same people who voted against marriage equality. In a country that is still defining what it means to allow liberal democratic norms to take root in an Asian culture, the fight will be pitched against us.

It is clear, then, that our tactics need to change, or we will lose this fight just as we suffered a setback in the not-yet-realized fight for marriage equality. 

First, we need to organize now. We cannot wait until we are already outgunned. Raise funds now, organize volunteers now, design informational materials now. The CEC may not approve this referendum, but in case they do, we need to be ready. We need to further ensure that our mobilization is aimed at a useful goal: we do not want another boondoggle of competing referendums.

Second, we need to prepare to have some tough conversations. We cannot keep talking only to each other. We need to figure out how we will discuss this issue with our more conservative relatives and peers. We need to mentally prepare for the inevitable disagreements that will follow—not only accepting that they will happen, but being ready to listen empathetically and offer possibilities that allow our more conservative friends and loved ones to keep their sense of self and tradition while supporting the bodily autonomy of women. 

Third, we need to try as much as possible to frame the debate before the Christian right can do that for us. This will be exceedingly difficult—once the “child murder” and “evil promiscuous woman” arrows start flying, it will be a challenge not to let the discussion devolve into defending against such baseless accusations.

I cannot provide an easy roadmap to do this, but it might be useful to point out that abortion is not antithetical to “Chinese” (or Taiwanese) culture and has been practiced in Asia for centuries, and that when around 40% (and in some countries, closer to 50%) of all pregnancies are unintended, it is impossible to argue that every last one of these women was simply “easy.” In fact, as of 2014, Taiwan had the highest adolescent abortion rate in Asia. “Easy” or not, would it really be a good idea to force almost all of these teenagers to carry their pregnancies to term?

Research shows that people reconsider beliefs rooted in prejudice when they get to know someone from the group they are marginalizing: When they begin to think of members of that group as real people and understand their struggles through the struggles of an individual they care about. In other words, we need to make it personal. 

This is arguably unfair: Shouldn’t all people be worthy of equality, whether or not you know them personally? Nevertheless, it is effective. Many of our LGBT brothers and sisters took on that burden in the fight for marriage equality, and now we must continue that by talking openly, clearly, and calmly about the importance of the right to bodily autonomy and access to appropriate health care, and how it affects us. That may mean being open about abortions we have had, or being clear that we would potentially consider one if we have not. For men, it means stating outright the importance of supporting the women in their life if they choose to have an abortion. We need to show them that not everyone who might seek an abortion is a woman with “loose morals.” They are normal people, people they know and love.

And we must begin now.

(Cover photo by tcmerlot from Pixabay)