The black and white riders...

"But his [Will's] attention was on the two tall riding figures starkly outlined ahead against the soft green of the park. In a few moments, the White Rider, as he felt he must call him, dropped aside and quietly trotted away. The coach went on, following the black upright form of the other.

"Bran said, 'Why should some of the Riders of the Dark be dressed all in white and the rest all in black?'

"'Without colour...' Will said reflectively. 'I don't know. Maybe because the Dark can only reach people at extremes - blinded by their own shining ideas, or locked up in the darkness of their own heads.'

--Susan Cooper, Silver on the Tree (p. 652 of the Dark is Rising Sequence, London: Bodley Head, 2007)

That is one of my favourite quotes of all time, and I've been meaning to blog it for a while, but today's discussion in the Social Club really pushed me to do it.

Nick came in and dropped down in the seat across from me. After mutual complaining about the rain, he nipped up to the bar to get a G&T and sat back down.

Then, the real conversation began.

One of the things I treasure about our friendship is that Nick and I really *listen* to each other. It may seem that we should spend the entire time using the phrases *traddy twit* and *liberal bitch*, but actually, our core principles/values are very similar, though how we express them politically can be vastly different. Passionate and headstrong in our convictions we may be, and hands will fly and voices rise (we both have cultural backgrounds that lead us to gesture a lot), but there will also be a pause as heads are tilted and ears opened. It's never just black and white.

Today's subject, twixt the odd funny story and teasing retort, was abortion, which moved into Bush's and Obama's conscience legislation. Not a subject I could usually discuss at the Oratory. But I knew I was safe with both Nick and Adrian (the raconteur), and so I was honest. And that meant a lot of emotion.

It doesn't get much more polar and emotional than abortion; and good friendships can be at risk over it. It hits on huge issues that can make it hard to listen to someone on the other side: "When does life begin?" "What are the rights of someone over their own body?" "Does a man have a say in whether or not he becomes a father?" "If a woman is raped or a girl is sexually abused, can you force her to carry the child of the aggressor for nine months?" and so many more.

The Black and White Riders run rampant across this road, with each side believing that it holds the shining ideals of life or of freedom, neither one willing to look to the other and acknowledge the complexity of their reasoning, the struggle that may have led them to their stance, the validity of some of their points. When Barack Obama said, "Every abortion is a tragedy," almost every pro-choicer I know jumped down his throat, despite his 100% NARAL rating. They felt 'betrayed', or 'Well *I* don't think it's a tragedy.' Fine. That's your position, but it is fascism to demand that it must be mine.

Allow Barack and the rest of us our more nuanced positions. Just because we find this side of the fence difficult sometimes, just because the necessity for abortion makes us sad, doesn't mean we are betraying the cause. We are one of the many shades of colour that make up the pro-choice side.

If I allow the pro-choice side many shades of colour, then I must assume that the pro-life side, made up of the same variety of human beings, has the same. That as angry as members of that side can make me, they are worth listening to.

The problem with both sides is that we make assumptions about the other; as a pro-choicer, I'm certainly guilty of that. When I hear someone is pro-life, I think "SPUC wacko" or "clinic bomber". I don't think "Nick, my friend, who always thinks things through and has good reasons for what he believes."

He probably stereotypes pro-choicers as liberal wackos who see abortion as just another medical procedure. He doesn't think, "Irim, my friend, who thinks things through and has good reasons for what she believes."

Today, I heard the words "love and support them" from him, and he heard me say, "I KNOW. I find it hard, but..." There were times when I could hear the unspoken "I hear you; I understand, but I can't agree," and times when I'm sure Nick and Adrian could hear the same. I've always wanted to be a mother, I've always been deeply aware of the immense potential of each life the moment sperm meets egg, but I simply *cannot* demand that a woman who has been raped or sexually abused carry a child to term. I cannot demand that a woman who finds out that her pregnancy endangers her life carry that child to term and risk leaving him/her and possibly other children motherless. I know that women will die if abortion is made illegal.

That means that no matter how hard it can become whenever I hear of a woman using abortion as birth control for the umpteenth time, I will stand for every woman's right to have an abortion. Because I *know* that it cannot be an easy decision. My position will always be far closer to the more nuanced Jewish position than to the absolute Catholic one.

People are not absolutes, and the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. When we believe the latter, the Riders drag us between them, leaving no room for humanity.

But as absolute as the topic of abortion may be; as heartfelt our disagreement, the Black and White Riders had no place in this discussion.

We found ourselves in the middle, passionate, on opposite sides of the fence - but leaning across it to listen. And that's as it should be.

Our conversation ended with Nick saying that the extremists on the left wing terrified him more than anything on the right wing. I said the opposite - that the right wing extreme frightened me more than the left. And I think we both have enough sense to be afraid of the extremists in our own wings.

We both fear the Black and White Riders, knowing that those blinded by shining ideas are locked in the darkness of their own heads. We know that in that direction lies the loss of the balance, compassion and love of neighbour we both hold as core values.

Maybe that's why our discussions are always in Technicolour.

May it ever be so.

The Cardinal vs Amnesty International

I owe His Eminence a huge "thank you".

Thursday, I saw this story in the Guardian, and put my head in my hands over the Vatican. Again.

"A senior Vatican cardinal said yesterday that Catholics should stop donating to human rights group Amnesty International because of its new policy advocating abortion rights for women if they had been raped, were a victim of incest or faced health risks."

This isn't a pro-choice move. It's about what happens to women in the areas that Amnesty International works. What if it had been his mother, his sister, his niece who had been raped? Certainly the Church would support it in the LAST instance, if only because of 'double jeopardy' (*cringe*), and most priests would understand and forgive it in the first two instances.

One of the things that fascinated me about this was the Catholic journalism. Time and again, the Church whinges on about how the secular media 'misrepresents' them. To save you the trouble of trolling through it, with the exception of The Tablet, most Catholic journalism is rich in hysterical hand-wringing and tabloid reporting and poor on real facts and genuine, thoughtful analysis. Catholic News printed this about the Amnesty International debate:

"With its new stance supporting the legalization of abortion around the world, Amnesty International "has betrayed its mission," said Cardinal Renato Martino, president of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace, in an e-mail interview with the National Catholic Register."

Go on, tell it like it is, Catholic journalists. Be that beacon of shining journalism the BBC, Washington Post and New York Times aren't, just telling us the facts and not sensationalising it at all, won't you? In fact, Martino himself can help you along...

Cardinal Martino said that by its new policy Amnesty International "has betrayed all of its faithful supporters throughout the years, both individuals and organizations, who have trusted AI for its integral mission of promoting and protecting human rights."

Let me get this straight: supporting abortion as an option for a woman who has been raped, the victim of incest or whose health is in danger qualifies as decriminalising abortion and *betraying* the Catholic Church and men like Daniel Berrigan who SUPPORTED Roe v Wade? If we want to discuss the meaning of betrayal, I have a few words for you, Cardinal Martino: paedophile priests, cover up, Bernard Law.

Something is rotten in the Vatican city-state. This smells like an excuse for something else, and I think Mick Arran has put his finger on it:

This is payback for all the grief AI has given the Church over its either outright support of dictatorial regimes as long as they left Catholics alone, or its quiescence in the face of massive human rights violations in Catholic countries, especially in the Americas.

Ah. Yes. That may be speculation, but it fits the rabid reaction of Cardinal Martino far better than a simple, explainable shift of AI towards allowing abortions for women in those few cases. Having watched the Vatican's behaviour with some interest over the last decade or so, it's plausible. The drive against communism, the chirping up against human right violations have only happened when the Church was unable to function in those countries. It never had anything to do with global human rights or human suffering, except through exceptional individuals like Denis Hurley or Oscar Romero. Not once.

No one has done more for human rights around the world regardless of colour, religion, nationality than AI. That means it has done more of Christ's work than our esteemed Cardinal, who spends his life living opulently and sitting on his ass bullying people to fall into line.

A little time in Darfur might not hurt him any.

""The inevitable consequence of this decision," according to the cardinal, "will be the suspension of any financing to Amnesty on the part of Catholic organisations and also individual Catholics,""

That is what I need to thank him for, because I had to decide what I really believe. Finally, after years of twisting my integrity to try to assimilate ridiculous pronouncements from the Vatican, my integrity snapped back. It was time to take a stand.

I joined Amnesty International.