Green is the color of Argentina’s pro-choice campaign . An immense ocean of green handkerchiefs waved just outside Congress on June 14th, as legislators inside the building debated the women’s fate. The crowd stood waiting for hours, undeterred by the marathon-like session that lasted into the early hours of Thursday to hear the outcome of the historic vote towards legalizing abortion.
After more than 22 hours of debate, the bill to legalize voluntary abortions up to 14 weeks passed by a tiny margin. This puts it on a track towards potentially becoming national law, proving that a large enough public outcry can translate to actionable policy.
The success is one manifestation of a growing movement in Latin America, where 97 percent of women live in countries where legal abortion is either strictly restricted or unavailable. The explanation is largely historical: Latin America was shaped by the Catholic church which not only teaches that abortion is immoral, but also takes actions to oppose its legalization.
Luciana Peker, a prominent Argentine journalist and feminist activist, says this is “the revolution of the daughters.” After more than 30 years of feminist activism—and six attempts to obtain this law—she sees this milestone as the blooming of a juvenile spring, a movement whose main protagonists are millennials — and centennials — that felt inspired to take the streets with their message.
Abortion is currently illegal in Argentina except in cases of rape or when the woman’s life is in danger. But even in such cases, women are sometimes subject to criminal prosecution for seeking abortions, and often have trouble obtaining reproductive services, such as contraception and voluntary sterilization. An estimated 450,000 abortions take place every year in Argentina, the vast majority of them illegally and with poor hygienic conditions. According to the Argentina’s Ministry of Health, unsafe abortions represent the main cause of maternal deaths. Abortion is an undeniable reality, so this vote would help decide if women should die from it or not.
Argentina’s abortion laws, stating that it isn’t punishable only if the mother’s life is in danger or “if the pregnancy is the result of rape or sexual assault of a feeble-minded or demented woman,” were written almost a hundred years ago by 158 men. Today, thanks to Argentine quota law, more than a third of the 257 seats are held by women. Even though not all of them voted in favor of legalizing abortion, a great many of the women were essential in achieving this significant result.
The success in Argentina has already spurred a series of analogous campaigns in other Latin American countries. Argentina’s green bandanas have inspired each country to adopt its own distinctive color: Chile (burgundy), Mexico (white with gold), Peru (salmon), Colombia (yellow), Ecuador (lilac) and Costa Rica (which hasn’t chosen a color yet). Who says a revolution has to be staid and colorless?
In Argentina, the green handkerchief became a symbol of empowerment and courage, tied to backpacks, proudly worn around necks and wrists. And (more broadly, as Peker explains) the bandanas also represent their freedom, their rights, and their joy. In spite of its acquired meaning, the green color was chosen 15 years ago due to its neutrality: no political party or institution was using it. Each green handkerchief displays the campaign’s slogan in white type: “Sex education to decide, contraceptives to not abort, legal abortion to not die.”
The handkerchief itself draws heavy inspiration from the “Mothers of Plaza de Mayo” movement, where mothers of “the disappeared” wore white scarves of remembrance on their heads. These thousands of Argentinian “desaparecidos” were taken and tortured and killed during the country’s 1976–1983 military dictatorship, and have been commemorated over the past 40 years. Every generation has a fight of its own.
This “green wave” of young feminists took to the streets, but it didn’t end there—they also took every chance they could to discuss the matter at home, at work, through outstanding pieces of journalism, and even through humor and social networks. So effective was their campaign that many representatives even claimed to be voting in favor because of them and for them. Many even admitted that it was their daughters who made them change their conservative views.
One of the most prominent figures leading the pro-choice fight, congresswoman Silvia Lospennato from the government’s party, dared to ask pro-lifers (or “anti-rights” as they were infamously renamed) if “they would force their own daughters to be mothers against their will or denounce them if they found out they had an abortion.” Another congressman, this time from an opposition party, Daniel Filmus, wondered how he would be able to look at his daughters’ eyes if he were to return home without the bill.
Despite the massive demonstrations and public support, there’s still more to do to make the bill law, but the campaign is still going strong. Even as winter begins painting the city gray, green handkerchiefs can be seen sprouting here and there. And the multicolored cloths are likewise blossoming across all of Latin America. Maybe, misquoting Virginia Woolf, Argentina (and its following neighbors) does deserve the victory of a juvenile spring.