Ireland Abortion Vote Divides Families, and Gender Lines

ASHBOURNE, Ireland — Until recently, Aoife and Muiriosa O’Sullivan, 23-year-old twins from a religiously conservative family, led nearly identical lives: They wore identical clothes until they were in their early teens, studied the same subjects in college and both went into teaching.

Yet, aside from a quibble over the virtues of veganism, they parted ways for the first time over what could be a defining moment for them and their generation: a divisive referendum on legalizing abortion, set to take place on Friday.

Aoife (pronounced EE-fuh) plans to vote for the measure, saying that a woman has a right to choose what to do with her body. Muiriosa is against abortion under any circumstance, saying she is opposed on moral and religious grounds to the taking of a life.

The pair, who grew up in Waterford, on the southeastern coast of Ireland, are hardly alone in finding themselves on opposite ends of a bitter and seemingly irreconcilable row. The argument over the referendum has exposed wide divisions among Irish women and has emerged to some extent as a debate among women for women.

In contrast to the United States, where male politicians, donors and social commentators have often dominated the abortion issue, many men in this Irish vote are tending to hang back, seeing abortion as a woman’s matter. That is in large part a reaction to earlier generations, when women’s issues in Ireland were solely decided by men, including leaders of the Roman Catholic Church.

Theresa Reidy, a professor of government at University College Cork who has studied Ireland’s many past referendums, said that women were expected to turn out in bigger numbers than men on Friday, a departure from previous votes on various issues. “Abortion is so gender specific,” Reidy said, “that there is a substantial reason that male and female turnouts will be different.”

But far from marginalizing men, this trend has put them in the cross hairs of the opposing campaigns, which have sent droves of male workers into the streets and lined up support from male celebrities.

“There is concern about how men will vote,” said Brendan O’Neill, an abortion rights supporter and the editor of Spiked, which he described as a libertarian online magazine. “I am a huge believer in women’s rights, but there is a trend toward women pushing men to stay in their lane.” With polls showing a tight vote, however, he said wryly, “you really need the manpower.”

Polls published in early May showed that 47 percent of women in Ireland supported legalizing abortion while 35 percent opposed it, thought pollsters warn that the gap has narrowed substantially since then. Male respondents also favored legalization, though the margin was narrower — and it was unclear how many men would come out to vote.

The divisions are reflected in the schism separating the twins, Aoife and Muiriosa. “I don’t understand how a woman can deny another woman what’s best for her,” said Aoife, who eats meat, listens to house music and lifts weights. Her twin, she said, “is vegan, does spinning and eats avocados.”

“I believe that a child borne to an unwanted pregnancy is an innocent victim,” Muiriosa replied to her sister over WhatsApp, the messaging service. A child, she said, “wasn’t asked to be born in this world, therefore should have every right to life as any other.”

This mix of beliefs and values underscores the soul-searching and hand-wringing playing out across the nation. Many women who support legalizing abortion say they are “pro-life” as individuals but feel that women should be given a choice. Many who oppose it cite values, identity and religion, arguing that abortion is murder and that banning it celebrates motherhood in a society that emphasizes careers and individual pursuits.

In advertisements and news conferences, each campaign has accused the other of exploiting personal tragedies suffered by women to bolster their cases.

The nuances and emotions surrounding abortion are so complex that opinion surveys published this month showed that nearly a fifth of all voters said they were undecided.

At stake is the Eighth Amendment of the Irish Constitution, which confers equal rights to the fetus and the mother. Currently, Irish law bans abortion even in cases of rape or incest, allowing it only if a mother’s life is at risk. If the referendum passes, the government has said it would introduce a measure allowing unrestricted terminations during the first 12 weeks of pregnancy.

In addition to the undecided vote, pollsters say, much of the outcome hinges on male turnout, which, unless recent campaigning has made any difference, is expected to be lower than among women.

Joe McGrath, a 62-year-old barber in Ashbourne, near Dublin, said he planned to vote for legalizing abortion, but only because his wife, six sisters and three sisters-in-law insisted. “It should’ve been an only-woman’s vote,” he said.

Many others seem to agree: A poll released this week showed that 10 percent of Irish people think men should not be allowed to vote in the referendum.

“It’s not a man’s issue. A man doesn’t know what it’s like to get pregnant,” McGrath said, even as he added that he knew at least 25 women who have had abortions, usually by traveling to England or Wales, where abortion is legal.

Michael Lawrence, 55, said he planned to stay home on polling day. “It’s so confusing, I wouldn’t know what the heck to vote for,” he said, adding that even his wife was unsure which side she was on. “If my wife is confused about a woman’s issue, I would know less about it,” he said, throwing up his hands.

Gerard Murphy, who organized a campaign encouraging men to vote to repeal the amendment, fretted about men like Lawrence. “This isn’t a woman’s or a man’s issue but an individual’s,” he said. “Statistically, every man has to know a woman who has had an abortion.”

Niamh Ui Bhraian, who leads the anti-abortion campaign Save the Eighth, took aim at women who have “told so many men it was none of their business — this ‘No uterus, no opinion’ — that men have heeded it. And that’s what hits the ballot box.” By Saturday, when the official results are expected to have been tabulated, the campaigners will have a chance to reflect on their success or failure.

Leading up to that, in the last frantic days of the campaign, yes and no campaigners in Dublin — many of them young people — rubbed shoulders on crowded thoroughfares, handing out flyers and badges, acknowledging one another through gritted teeth. Occasionally, tempers flared, and activists on both sides described being heckled or having pints of Guinness thrown at them.

They held up banners and posters well into the evening, as sightseeing buses rumbled by, carrying European tourists who gawked and snapped photos. “Vote no!” one campaigner shouted in a hoarse voice. Not to be outdone, another cried out, “Vote yes!”

Aoife O’Sullivan, wearing a “Yes” badge in favor of repealing the amendment, stopped by an anti-abortion booth where rubber figurines showing the various stages of fetal development were on display. She quickly fell into a debate with an opponent over what kind of life a child of a rape victim would face.

“A child needs all the love it deserves,” O’Sullivan said. “But if it’s unwanted and is thrown into a cruel world and it discovers its father was a rapist — imagine how messed up it’ll be.”

“I agree,” said Leah Boyle, 22, a “No” campaigner. “We have no idea what its life will be like, but abortion offers no chances,” she said, before recounting that her uncle had been conceived in a sexual assault.

When he found out from his mother on her deathbed, “he struggled with depression,” Boyle said. Still, she added, “he went on to have such a good life. He had four children.”

As the vote neared, some voters wavered, including Aoife O’Sullivan. She said that she was the only person in her immediate family to vote yes, and that her parents were upset by her decision.

Muiriosa explained the difference in votes with her twin over religion and their attitudes toward diet. “I like religion, whereas Aoife has a more relaxed approach. I am a vegan and Aoife is a meat eater,” she said. “I do not believe in the killing of any creature on this Earth. Likewise, it is our duty as compassionate human beings to stand up for the killing of babies and vote no.”

Aoife, for her part, admitted to liking meat very much. Aside from teaching rowdy high school students, she is part of Ireland’s national weight lifting team and is expected to compete in Canada after Friday’s vote. “I feel empowered,” she said.

“For my sister, this is a moral issue. For me, it’s the right, the right for a woman to go through or not with a pregnancy,” she said. “You cannot make a judgment until you’re in that position.”