HIV/AIDS: Anger, Hope and Love

Date: 31 October 1998
Author:
Type: test
Location: Sydney
Publisher: Publisher - Was the paper published?

LIGHT AND LIFE

During my childhood, Australians celebrated Empire Day in late May. As the weather became cold and miserable, children would try to fend off the winter with a single night of fire and light. Bonfires were lit and not a few of them burned down neighbouring homes. Rockets were fired, to the peril of all about. Roman candles and Catherine wheels lit the sky. It was dangerous; but it was exciting. Thousands of lights seemed somehow to lift our spirits. On the serious side, they reminded us that we were part of a world-wide family of nations. The ceremonies planted in my mind notions of solidarity and internationalism that have never left.

Now we gather together with candles and light for a different purpose. Would I have believed it if I had been told, back in 1950, that we would be here tonight for this purpose? That lights would be lit all over the world to cause us to reflect upon a common problem. It was easier in childhood days not to think about such serious things. Or to look into the future. It was easier to live for the moment, staring into the lights and taking joy from the affirmation of existence which they offered.

We come together in the second decade of a most unexpected and horrible epidemic. It has taken away mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, friends and lovers. We join together to share emotions. By our candles of light, we remember precious friends "...hid in death's dateless night".

What are the emotions we express by this act of affirmation by candlelight?

PUZZLEMENT

We feel a sense of astonishment that this unpredicted, and unpredictable virus should have chosen our generations and our decades of existence to manifest itself on earth. Where did it come from? Did it jump the species? Is it truly out of Africa? Why now? Do any of these questions matter?

Each of us will remember the first time the acronym AIDS crept into our consciousness. For me it was in the early 1980's. At first it seemed a minor problem. But it spread like wildfire throughout the world. Now it threatens millions. Our puzzlement continues. What is nature getting at? Why does it chose the vectors of pleasure - the moment of sexual union when two people for an instant become one? The moment when a baby suckles at its mother's breast? Why does such an insidious visitor enter the body's portals at such a time of pleasure and sharing? AIDS is still a great puzzle and a mystery. But the reality of its manifestations soon brings us down to earth and requires us to face grim truths.

ANGER

We feel angry that our generations, and these decades, have been chosen by this first truly global epidemic. The older ones remember the years of the seventies, before HIV/AIDS. We remember a world which promised liberation, enlightenment and tolerance and then appeared to dash the cup from our hands: as if to laugh at such aspirations. We feel anger at the pain of loved ones. We feel anger at the loss of lovers, friends, colleagues, brothers and sisters. We feel anger at our own inadequacy in the face of grim news and hard times. We are ashamed of our human inclination to escape, fleeing the realities of this epidemic. We are angry with ourselves and with the world. Often we are angry with the very people who suffer most because we feel so helpless and inadequate in the face of their suffering.

FRUSTRATION

We also feel frustration and rage. Frustration at the slow progress towards the cure which twentieth-century medicine has taught us to expect. Frustration at the lack of a vaccine to protect the young against the suffering we have seen. Rage at the expenditure on armaments and the trickle of the world's capital that is diverted to the scientific endeavour to cure or arrest HIV/AIDS.

We ask ourselves: if there were truly a war on AIDS would not the funds be found to find a cure by the concentration of the best minds of humanity? The cure is taking too long. Funding is difficult. Sometimes it is even cut. The rage and anger we feel in Australia, where there has been much understanding and support, is nothing to the fury of frustration in the African village and the despair of the Caribbean slum. Occasionally the anger and rage boil over, even in middle-class Australia. People act up to demand greater commitment from their governments and fellow citizens. Fellow citizens watch. Some understand and share the anger and the rage. These are days of frustration and anger.

HOPE

But in dark times there is also hope. It is human to hope. The marvellous achievements of our time in science and technology give us cause for hope. Already the primitive early responses to HIV/AIDS have given way to complex combinations of drugs and therapies. They can give real hope of a long-term delay to the feared onset of symptoms. Scientists at conferences express hopeful words about a vaccine within a decade. Others say, in hope, that AIDS will be like diabetes- not cured but controlled: its symptoms kept under check. We hope that the therapies will improve, and quickly. Our hopes are raised when we hear word of new drugs which will arrest the condition or palliate the suffering. We hope that no more precious friends will be lost. We hope that, with support from governments and peoples everywhere, the struggle against this epidemic, like earlier ones, will soon be won. We live in hope. It is our nature to do so.

DETERMINATION

We have determination not to give in in the face of AIDS. We continue the efforts to educate all about its danger. At least in some class rooms in Australia, we bring the message to school children in very candid and direct terms. At least in Australia, we have had the determination to break taboos and to educate THE younger generations about the danger of HIV/AIDS. Many of our politicians have had the determination to respond to a great human challenge. Our response was not perfect. But it was better than most.

We have determination to sustain the messages of prevention, for it is human to lapse. Knowledge is not a suit of armour against this insidious enemy. Sometimes love and trust can weaken the armour. It can allow the virus its chance, even in those that know.

We must have the determination to turn this epidemic into an occasion for the removal of all vestiges of discrimination that linger in the consciousness of humanity - even here in enlightened Australia. We must turn it, with determination, to a movement for the removal of discrimination in laws and policies and attitudes. We must learn, with determination, that AIDS is a paradox. Paradoxically, the best way to fight HIV, and to command the minds of those who are most at risk, is to win their trust and confidence by laws and policies that protect their rights and uphold their human dignity. This means laws that protect the rights and uphold the dignity of gay men, of mothers who have seroconverted, of migrants with the virus, of injecting drug users, of sex workers, and of other vulnerable groups who need protection and support.

It is difficult sometimes to maintain determination. It is human to let it weaken and to question its demands. But we have maintained this determination for more than fifteen years. And the battle is only just beginning. When we weaken in our determination we must think of dear friends who have shown us, by their determination, the dignity and courage that our entire society must come to display.

We celebrate the determination of the carers who go out to homes to tend the sick and clean for them. We honour the determination of doctors and nurses who, without a miracle cure or simple injection, have continued the noble struggle. We are determined to support the loved ones who have travelled the journey together. We are determined to reach out to those who have lost loved ones. Many are here with us tonight to show that the pain continues. But also there continues a determination to turn that pain to something positive.

SOLIDARITY

Why have we come out on this May night when there are no bonfires or rockets or Catherine wheels but just our candles to light our way? We have come out in solidarity. To show that as citizens, we are together. We share the burden of this epidemic. We lead other citizens to realise that such suffering buys attention and it buys rights. We are here from every segment of the Australian community: men, women and children; married and unmarried; people who are positive and people who are not; gay men and lesbian, transsexuals, heterosexuals and bisexuals; Aboriginals and Torres Strait Islanders and Australians of the old Anglo-Celtic community; the new-comers and Australians of Asian descent; citizens and non-citizens; those with high constitutional offices; and those with no jobs at all. With us are strangers from overseas who are strangers no longer. We must feel solidarity with the orphaned children in sub-Saharan Africa. We must reach out and help, with the lessons we have learned: gay men in India; sex workers in Cambodia; truck drivers in Zimbabwe; mothers in Morocco; and drug users in Haiti. This epidemic knows no boundaries. In the face of it, humanity is one.

LOVE

But basically we are here because of love. We think of the precious friends we have lost. They come marching back in our minds, full of life and laughter, with human weaknesses and with much-loved qualities. Perhaps we know one who lived with this virus. Perhaps, like a rosary, we can list many. For a moment they are back with us. Our candles light their way. Their departure was too soon. It was undeserved. We are here to affirm to each other and to the world that we love them. And we love those who battle every day against the virus. We rededicate ourselves to turn our love to practical support. Help to those in need. Sustenance to those who grieve. Education and reinforcement to those who are spared. Support for science and research. Reform of the law and of society so that all this suffering will not have been in vain.

RESOLUTION

Let us, therefore, here resolve to take up the battle cry voiced by Dr Peter Piot, head of United Nations Programme on HIV/AIDS, at the Commission on Human Rights in Geneva:

We must break through this silence. We must raise our voices to Australia and to the world to shatter the silence. All of us must lift our voices in solidarity with the 20 million people in the world who daily live with HIV/AIDS and the countless millions of their loved ones and carers, including those here in our community.

Raise our voices! Raise the candles! Shine the light!