Church-State Relations Complicate Reproductive Health for Argentines

By: Ani Zotti

October 28, 2011

Argentina is a country of intense political and social dichotomy. Same-sex marriage has been legal for 18 months and gay tango bars abound, but maricón (a derogatory term for homosexuals) is still a frequent and debilitating insult used by much of the population. In 2006 the legislature successfully passed a law mandating comprehensive sex education in all schools, but in the conservative northern provinces of Jujuy and Salta there has been pathetically little evidence of any change being implemented—even though 54 percent of pregnancies in Salta occur in women between the ages of 12 and 19 years old.

What is most obvious to me, however, is the striking fact that although Argentina is run by a woman—reelected five days ago with a 53 percent majority—and a 34 percent female National Legislature (compared to 16.8 percent in the United States Congress), it remains an extremely strong bastion of machismo in the developing world. The excessive masculinity is obvious to any female, especially a gringa, who walks down the street hounded by catcalls, but it can also be seen in the difficulty women encounter when trying to access reproductive health. All three of these remarkably polemical and dynamic topics have been heavily influenced by one other dichotomy evident in Argentine society—the presence and prevalence of Catholicism among the population.

It is often said that Buenos Aires is the Paris of South America—the people here constantly crunch on croissants, lounge in outdoor cafes, and refuse to buy an apartment unless it has at least one curlicued wrought-iron terrace (I am sitting on one as I write this, in fact). But the greater truth of that slogan is actually a little less obvious to the naked eye.

Both Argentina and its European counterpart have extremely high rates of Catholicism in their populations, though surprisingly low rates of habitual worship. The idea of France as a nation full of enormous, empty cathedrals also applies to this country: in the latter, although roughly 90 percent of the country is baptized as Roman Catholic, only 20 percent are regular practitioners.

Despite the apparent apathy of the general citizenry, however, the Church is intrinsically tied to certain aspects of Argentine daily life. This is primarily due to its traditionally heavy involvement in government, though its influence has waned some in recent years. For instance, the Kirchner administration’s latest programs for the provision of free oral contraceptive pills and condoms (as part of the universal free healthcare offered in the country), as well as the law on mandatory sex education and same-sex marriage, have received considerable flack from the Church.

Amidst the thick volley of name-calling and hellfire-condemning that constantly flies back and forth between various church and state officials, certain facts remain the same. Despite the 2002 law, contraception is still exceptionally difficult to obtain in many areas, and most doctors refuse to perform abortions even when they are legally permissible. According to the Argentine Penal Code, abortion is still largely illegal, at least for all of those that have not both been raped and suffer from serious and well-documented mental retardation, or for those who would die without one.

But the sad truth is somewhere between 460,00 and 615,000 abortions take place each year in Argentina, which means that about 40 percent of all pregnancies end in abortion. An overwhelming majority of these are illegal. Complications resulting from abortions are the second highest cause of maternal death, and perhaps the primary reason that Argentina has a much higher maternal mortality rate than other countries at its level of socioeconomic development.

As I sat in the back of my class at the prestigious University of Buenos Aires (Universidad de Buenos Aires), I listened to my professor explain the complex female network through which one can procure a standard hasty abortion. The walls and ceiling behind her were covered in the makeshift posters of fervent political student groups, and mid-lecture a young woman interrupted the class to espouse her organization’s views on the upcoming university elections. She was clear in her intentions, confident in delivery and—judging from her significantly depleted supply of fliers—very effective.

Clearly there is no lack of energy or talent in the various reforms of taking place throughout Argentine society, but it will undoubtedly bring with it even more friction before success is found. Conflicts with Catholicism will undoubtedly deepen, and it will be interesting to see who blinks first in the staring contest between the state, the Church, and the opinionated and politically active citizenry.

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