| mollymeek ( @ 2007-12-14 12:03:00 |
When it comes to the issue of homosexuality and the issue of 377A, the two Great Lees have spoken about keeping matters ambiguous and Molly has commented on this in at least two blog entries, here and here.
Let me quote MM Lee again: "[W]e take an ambiguous position. We say, O.K., leave them alone, but let's leave the law as it is for the time being and let's have no gay parades."
And let me quote CNA's report on what PM Lee said: "According to CNA, "Mr Lee believes it is better to accept legal untidiness and ambiguity over 377A, adding that it is unwise to force the issue definitively one way or the other because there are strong views on both sides, and the debate will change few minds."
Molly has never quite favored that position of ambiguity, which is little more than a rhetoric of balance. We are supposed to think that the powers that be are really open-minded, but never to the degree of being disrespectful towards the supposedly conservative and hence supposedly anti-decriminalization (notice the double leap) when it comes to gay sex.
The ambiguity is selective too. Who has the power to be ambiguous?
And who interprets the law in this democratic country?
On December 5, there was a Straits Times article by Prof Kumaralingam Amirthalingam, "Balancing evidence and rhetoric in law reform". In the article, he suggested that with the repeal of Section 377, 377A should not be interpreted to include anal sex:
There is an assumption that 377A includes anal sex as part of the definition of gross indecency. However, the legislative history of the two provisions, as well as the existing jurisprudence and prosecutorial policy, suggests that 377A does not include anal sex.
Section 377A was . . . was introduced in 1938 following reforms in England. During the introduction of the Bill, it was explained that 377A 'makes punishable acts of gross indecency between male persons which do not amount to an unnatural offence within the meaning of 377 of the Code' (italics added). Clearly, 377 and 377A were intended to be complementary but mutually exclusive provisions.
The fact that the two provisions are aimed at different acts was highlighted in a Singapore High Court decision, PP v Kwan Kwong Weng, where the judge held that 377 was limited to anal sex and bestiality, excluding oral sex, which properly belonged to 377A.
The decision was overturned on appeal, where it was held that 377 could include oral sex in certain serious cases where a higher punishment was warranted. It should be noted that 377 carried a maximum life sentence while 377A has a maximum sentence of two years. While the prosecution had the discretion to prosecute oral sex cases under either 377 or 377A, there is no local authority where anal sex has been prosecuted under 377A.
The crucial question then is whether gross indecency in 377A can be interpreted to include anal sex in the light of the repeal of 377. Arguably, courts should not interpret 377A in this way, as one of the principles of statutory interpretation, particularly in criminal law, is that where there is ambiguity, the penal provision should be interpreted in favour of the accused.
In Singapore, what do you do when there is ambiguity in the law?
Maybe you let the Ministry of Home Affairs interpret the law instead of letting the judiciary interpret the law as it is stated in the book.
From The Straits Times (Forum), December 13:
Section 377A covers anal sex between males
I REFER to Associate Professor Kumaralingam Amirthalingam's Review article, 'Balancing evidence and rhetoric in law reform' (ST, Dec 5).
Prof Kumaralingam argued that based on existing jurisprudence, gross indecency under Section 377A (Outrages on decency) of the Penal Code does not include anal sex between males. He is of the view that since Section 377 (Unnatural offences) which criminalises consensual anal sex between males will be repealed and Section 377A does not include anal sex, there is a lacuna in the law. There is no lacuna in the law. The debate in Parliament made it abundantly clear that the Government's intention is to decriminalise oral and anal sex between a consenting adult heterosexual couple in private by repealing Section 377 but to retain the status quo whereby homosexual acts under Section 377A remain criminalised. In this regard, the Attorney-General's Chambers had earlier advised that Section 377A covers the act of anal sex between male persons.
Toh Yong Chuan
Deputy Director
International & Corporate Relations Division
Ministry of Home Affairs
To be ambiguous or not, that is the question. And the answer lies with . . .
First set of questions to ask: How can it be clear from a "debate" what the government intends? (I mean, doesn't a debate consist of at least two different stands? What and whose intentions?) Do we interpret a law stated in black and white according to our interpretation of parliamentarians' debate?
Another set of questions: The Attorney-General's Chambers had "advised" that 377A covers anal sex between men. Is his "advice" the law? Who interprets the law?
But these must be really unimportant questions. After all, no one gets charged under 377A right? (Then why the need to "clarify" and define in precise terms that 377A covers anal sex?)
Well, even if it does not cover anal sex, what does it matter? It's just an additional way of defining innocent people as criminals.
When you like it, you can talk all you like about being ambiguous. When you like it, you can define things in precise terms that they are unprosecuted criminals. And this is precisely where the dangers of ambiguity lies. Ultimately, it subjects gays (or rather men who have sex with men, whether they are gay or not) to the whims of power.
You can't say that you are oppressed. No one bothers you if you keep to yourself. No one is going to charge you.
You can't say that you are entitled to do what you want to do. It's criminal. In very specific terms.
In a way, this uniquely Singapore (or perhaps not?) situation cripples people more than they would be in countries where gays are outrightly persecuted.
I reserve the right to leave you alone. I reserve the right to lock you up. I am open, but only as much as I want to be. I am ambiguous. I am clear and precise. I am your author. My name is Power.
ONE of the controversial issues arising from the recent Penal Code reform exercise was the decision not to repeal Section 377A, which criminalises acts of gross indecency between males.
The controversy was heightened by the fact that 377, which criminalised unnatural offences, including anal and oral sex as well as bestiality, was repealed.
The debate was emotional and occasionally went beyond the bounds of propriety. As the dust settles, we have to deal with the post-reform framework and see what lessons the experience offers for criminal law reform.
Two points deserve attention: First, the need to focus on criminal law principles and the law itself; and next, the need to rely on empirical evidence and not be blindsided by rhetoric.
The background to the reform shows that Parliament was motivated by public outrage that consensual oral sex between heterosexual couples could be a crime. But by repealing 377, Parliament also decriminalised consensual anal sex regardless of whether the partner is male or female.
Without specifically re-enacting an offence to deal with anal sex between males, a lacuna in the law may have been created where private, consensual anal sex between males is unregulated.
Previously, one of the arguments for 377 was that it was necessary to protect males from non-consensual sodomy or male rape, as there was no specific law governing such acts. But that argument is no longer relevant, given the new Section 376(1), which specifically criminalises non-consensual oral and anal sex.
There is an assumption that 377A includes anal sex as part of the definition of gross indecency. However, the legislative history of the two provisions, as well as the existing jurisprudence and prosecutorial policy, suggests that 377A does not include anal sex.
Section 377A was not in the original Penal Code of the Straits Settlements (the precursor to the Singapore Penal Code), but was introduced in 1938 following reforms in England. During the introduction of the Bill, it was explained that 377A 'makes punishable acts of gross indecency between male persons which do not amount to an unnatural offence within the meaning of 377 of the Code' (italics added). Clearly, 377 and 377A were intended to be complementary but mutually exclusive provisions.
The fact that the two provisions are aimed at different acts was highlighted in a Singapore High Court decision, PP v Kwan Kwong Weng, where the judge held that 377 was limited to anal sex and bestiality, excluding oral sex, which properly belonged to 377A.
The decision was overturned on appeal, where it was held that 377 could include oral sex in certain serious cases where a higher punishment was warranted. It should be noted that 377 carried a maximum life sentence while 377A has a maximum sentence of two years. While the prosecution had the discretion to prosecute oral sex cases under either 377 or 377A, there is no local authority where anal sex has been prosecuted under 377A.
The crucial question then is whether gross indecency in 377A can be interpreted to include anal sex in the light of the repeal of 377. Arguably, courts should not interpret 377A in this way, as one of the principles of statutory interpretation, particularly in criminal law, is that where there is ambiguity, the penal provision should be interpreted in favour of the accused.
Had Parliament intended to retain the crime of anal sex between males, it should have done so explicitly. Indeed, it did just that with the offence of bestiality, which having existed in the repealed 377 was re-enacted in a new 377B.
There was much rhetoric during the 377A debate about homosexuality contributing to the spread of HIV/Aids and gay men being predisposed to paedophilia. But the available evidence does not support the rhetoric.
It must be emphasised that HIV/Aids is not exclusively a gay disease. According to official UN figures, globally, women account for half of HIV infections and in sub-Saharan Africa, young women account for 75 per cent of such infections. In India, as in Singapore, the main means of transmission is heterosexual intercourse.
While men who have sex with men are among the high-risk categories in some countries, studies show that criminalisation of sex between men increases the risk of HIV infection as it, among other things, drives such activity underground and impedes access to health care, HIV screening and safe sex campaigns.
That 377 and 377A impede the fight against the spread of HIV/Aids has been affirmed locally in a recent paper by Dr Roy Chan, the director of the National Skin Centre and an expert on sexually transmitted diseases.
In terms of the alleged link between homosexuality and paedophilia, the American Psychological Association points to a study of child sex abuse cases which shows that under 1 per cent of the molesters identify themselves as gay, and that almost 90 per cent of the molesters have had documented heterosexual relationships.
A court in Texas, in rejecting the testimony of an expert who argued that homosexuals were more likely to be paedophiles, found that the data had been distorted, and described the testimony as fraudulent and misleading.
Following a review of available empirical evidence, a research fellow at the Australian Institute of Family Studies has concluded that the link between paedophilia and homosexuality is 'more a societal myth than a reality'.
Criminal law reform on the basis of ideology and rhetoric, rather than evidence and reality, is fraught with danger. In the case of 377A, there is now an ambiguity that is unlikely to be resolved. Parliament will have no desire to clarify the law by enacting specific laws and, given that 377A will not be proactively enforced, courts may not have the opportunity to interpret 377A in the post-reform era.
We are left with a criminal law that makes no sense and which may in fact be harmful to our efforts to contain the spread of Aids as well as to combat child sex abuse.
This predicament is largely due to the fact that we took our eyes off the ball during the debate: Instead of focusing on the proper function and ambit of criminal law, we focused on homosexuality. In sports parlance, we played the man rather than the ball.
The writer teaches criminal law and torts at the Faculty of Law, National University of Singapore. The views here are his own.