_____________________________
Elizabeth
Abbott is
a writer, lecturer and historian with a special interest in
women's issues, social justice, the treatment of animals and
the environment. She has a doctorate from McGill University
in 19th century history. Born in Montreal, she has lived in
Port-au-Prince, Haiti and now resides in Toronto. She is a Senior
Research Associate at Trinity College, University of Toronto,
where from 1991 to 2004 she was Dean of Women.
Elizabeth Abbott’s books have been translated into 16
languages. A History of Marriage, nominated for the
Governor General’s Literary Award for Non-Fiction, completes
her trilogy about human relationships following A History
of Celibacy and A History of Mistresses. Her previous
book, Sugar: A Bittersweet History, inspired by her
Antiguan heritage, was short-listed for the 2009 Charles Taylor
Prize for Literary Non-Fiction. Her most recent book is Haiti:
A Shattered Nation.
Two
decades ago, RCMP officers drove up a winding road through the
Creston Valley of southeastern British Columbia, past fields
of timothy hay and cottonwood stands, to an unmarked settlement
known as Bountiful. It looked a typical rural town — homesteads
bordered by well-kept yards full of children running and swinging
and cycling — but, in fact, the officers had come to investigate
a complaint that two local patriarchs, young gun Winston Blackmore
and his fifty-seven-year old father-in-law Dalmon Oler, were
polygamists — an offence under Section 293 of the Criminal
Code.
All
1,000 or so residents of Bountiful are members of the Fundamentalist
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (FLDS), a Mormon
sect that believes God’s chosen leaders should each marry
several virgins and “multiply and replenish the Earth
. . . that they may bear the souls of men.” Unashamed,
Oler invited the officers into the fifteen-bedroom home he shared
with his five wives and forty-eight children. Blackmore, who
in addition to leading Canada’s FLDS, operated a multimillion-dollar
logging, trucking, and manufacturing business, was cagier about
numbers, only admitting to having more than one wife. He was
rumoured, however, to have at least twenty-five (many underage
at the time he married them), and more than eighty children.
After
a year-long investigation, the case seemed completely straightforward,
but lawyers knew otherwise. While the Criminal Code defines
polygamy as a crime, the Charter of Rights guarantees religious
freedom, and in the summer of 1992, after consulting various
constitutional experts, the BC attorney general’s office
officially rejected the RCMP recommendations on the grounds
that Section 293 was invalid. Blackmore, puffed up with victory,
is said to have mounted a framed copy of the Charter on his
office wall.
But
his troubles were far from over. Blackmore would soon became
embroiled in an internecine leadership struggle with James Marion
Oler, son of Dalmon; more concerning, Bountiful suffered from
growing image problems. In the wake of the thwarted charges,
BC’s secretary of state for women’s equality commissioned
a committee on polygamy issues, which in May 1993 issued Life
in Bountiful, a powerful indictment of polygamy, in particular
forced marriage and extreme demands of obedience. “When
does a culture stop being a culture,” the report concluded
rhetorically, “and start being abuse?” A decade
later, one of the committee members, escaped FLDS wife Debbie
Palmer, published Keep Sweet, a sensational memoir
dedicated to her eight children, “who lived through unspeakable
horrors before I brought them out.” And in 2008, Vancouver
Sun columnist Daphne Bramham published The Secret Lives
of Saints: Child Brides and Lost Boys in Canada’s Polygamous
Mormon Sect, which documented, along with the sad fate
of Bountiful’s girls, that of its boys, who were yanked
from school and put to work, or expelled from the community
to eliminate competition for brides.
The
year after the book was released, BC’s attorney general,
Wally Oppal, laid polygamy charges against Blackmore and James
Oler (who replaced the former as bishop in 2002) and had the
RCMP arrest them. In his determination to do so, however, Oppal
had ignored government lawyers who maintained the charge wouldn’t
stand up to a Charter challenge, instead appointing successive
independent prosecutors until he found one who recommended laying
charges, which the court then quashed on procedural grounds.
(Blackmore is now suing the BC government for expenses related
to “unlawful” prosecution.) When Oppal lost a subsequent
election, his successor, Mike de Jong, filed a constitutional
reference in which he asked the BC Supreme Court to contend
with the conflict between the Criminal Code and the Charter
of Rights at last.
When
the trial opened on November 22, 2010, a stream of participants
and witnesses for the government, including representatives
from the Canadian Coalition for the Rights of Children, REAL
Women of Canada, the Christian Legal Fellowship, and academic
experts, testified about the many harms associated with polygamy.
Most convincing, perhaps, was the testimony of former FLDS members.
Carolyn Jessop, who fled a community in Utah with her eight
children in the middle of the night, summed it up well: “Polygamy
is not pretty to look at. It is nice that it is tucked away
in a dark corner where nobody has to see its realities, because
it’s creepy.”
But
George Macintosh, the amicus curiae (friend of the court) appointed
to present the opposing argument, came out swinging. He characterized
Section 293 as an overly broad and grossly disproportionate
law rooted in Christian prejudices, a law demeaning to polygamists.
Women in polygamous marriages anonymously testified that they
were happy, that they’d made the right decision. According
to CBC, the BC Civil Liberties Association argued that “consenting
adults have the right — the Charter protected right —
to form the families that they want to form.” And the
Canadian Association for Free Expression maintained that the
legalization of same-sex marriage in 2005 strengthened the individual’s
right to enter a polygamous marriage.
The
rights argument carries considerable weight in a liberal society
— if it didn’t, we wouldn’t still be faced
with the Bountiful problem. We’ll find out what the court
makes of it all by the end of the year. Something that hasn’t
been fully considered but should be factored in to any reasonable
decision is that rights can’t be separated from the culture
in which they arise. They are inextricably linked to institutions
that form the backbone of a society, and in every society throughout
history the fundamental organizing institution has always been
marriage.
One
of the oldest extant marriage documents comes from ancient Babylonia,
in the reign of Ammi-ditana (1683–1640 BC): the dowry
register for Sabitum, daughter of Ibbatum, who gave her as wife
into the house of Ilšu-ibni, for his son Warad-Kubi. Sabitum’s
dowry consisted of two beds, two chairs, one table, two chests,
one grindstone, one grindstone for flour, one ten-litre container,
and one empty šikkatum jar. In return, Ibbatum
received ten silver shekels, and he tied that money into the
fringe of Sabitum’s dress to be given back to Warad-Kubi.
From the beginning, it seems, marriage has been a financial
agreement, a way of distributing resources.
But
it has not been exclusively monogamous. In old Babylonia, for
example, the marriage contract might include a stipulation for
polygamy; Warad-Kubi may have taken more wives than Sabitum.
(This arrangement is more precisely called polygyny, but because
the alternative form of polygamy — one wife with many
husbands — is so rare, the distinction is rarely made.)
While polygamy would never be the primary form of marriage —
as Bountiful illustrates, huge segments of the male population
would be out of luck — it was certainly widespread. And
it’s clear that it provided unique advantages.
Polygamy
acted as husbandly insurance against an individual wife’s
barrenness, as well as high child mortality rates, and made
ill or aging wives less burdensome. If it was taboo to have
sex with pregnant and lactating women (which increased a nursing
child’s chances of survival), new fathers suffered neither
sexual privation nor a waiting period to produce another child.
And with so many children, polygamists had plenty of sons to
work the land or contribute to their commercial ventures; in
militaristic societies, these sons were prized as military recruits.
Daughters, less valued, were still useful for domestic work,
or to be advantageously married off to polygamous men.
Of
course, polygamy is entrenched in another ancient institution,
patriarchy, and in this context of women’s assumed dependence
it actually offered them certain protections. Consider Sabitum
again: She was very unlikely to try to leave her husband —
if she did, she was to be tied up and drowned. If he renounced
her, he was to pay her a small lump sum, but in the absence
of any kind of social safety net she would essentially be left
destitute. If he died, she was in even worse shape. The expandable
nature of the polygamous union meant there was a better chance
another man would take her in. It also meant men were less likley
to renounce unwanted, old, sick, or barren wives in the first
place; even if they were shunted aside in favour of younger,
healthier women, they at least remained married. (Polygamy was
particularly useful in wartime, when there were fewer eligible
men.) Co-wives would typically share a residence or compound,
co-operating in household duties, including raising one another’s
children. To overworked women who dreaded the sexual relations
that could result in yet another pregnancy, the arrangement
might have seemed like a godsend.
And
yet it could also very easily succumb to ever-simmering tensions
and jealousies. This was especially true with regard to children,
rivals for their father’s attention and resources, and
whose interests each mother attempted to promote at the expense
of the other children. In all but the wealthiest households,
supporting so many adults and offspring was a strain on the
patriarch, and some of his dependents inevitably lost out. Moreover,
an unhappy woman had little choice but to endure her lot; even
if the prospect of single life seemed preferable, she would
be forced to leave her children behind, possibly with an angry
father and vindictive co-wives. Being trapped in this way meant
there was always tremendous potential for injustice in the polygamous
union.
Islam,
which permits but does not prescribe polygamy, tacitly acknowledges
that potential with guidelines. “Marry such women as seem
good to you, two and three and four,” it says in Surah
4:3 of the Koran, “but if you fear that you will not do
justice (between them), then (marry) only one or what your right
hands possess; this is more proper, that you may not deviate
from the right course.” The sacred text also limits wives
to four, no two sisters at the same time, and even then warns,
“You will never be able to do perfect justice between
wives even if it is your ardent desire, so do not incline too
much to one of them (by giving her more of your time and provision)
so as to leave the other hanging,” so that she feels neither
married nor divorced (Surah 4:129).
Islamic
polygamy remains strongly rooted in places like Kuwait, Saudi
Arabia, Mali and Nigeria. In West Africa, the continent’s
most polygamous region, an estimated forty percent of all marriages
are polygamous. It’s therefore not surprising that a burgeoning
immigrant polygamous community can be found in Canada. Immigration
officials don’t generally admit multiple wives, but there
are reports that religious leaders in Toronto and Ottawa are
performing polygamous marriages. One imam from Scarborough,
who spoke recently with the Canadian Press, estimates there
are some two hundred such marriages in the Greater Toronto Area
alone. In a 2007 Maclean’s article, several Muslim
immigrant women explain that polygamy solves certain problems,
such as a wife’s barrenness or even her time of the month:
“Rather than a man getting into a wrong thing in dating
women and bringing a sickness — AIDS and all that,”
one says, “better he should marry [additional wives].”
But while a Muslim leader from Mississauga insists Canada should
allow polygamy (“We should respect different people”),
the immigrant community has been conspicuously silent during
the BC trial, most likely because it doesn’t want to further
compromise its position in a country that has, like others in
the West, summarily rejected polygamy.
While
early Christian patriarchs were polygamous — the Biblical
King Solomon, with 700 wives, spectacularly so — the Church
gradually renounced the practice, largely because Greco-Roman
culture happened to prescribe monogamy. Christians born into
the monogamous tradition explained away the Old Testament’s
stories about polygamy as a fast track to fulfill God’s
instructions to populate the world when it had fewer people,
and theologians eventually made it official. In chapter 7 of
On the Good of Marriage, AD 401, St. Augustine wrote,
“Now indeed in our time, and in keeping with Roman custom,
it is no longer allowed to take another wife.”
As
with polygamy, women’s subordinate status shaped this
version of marriage; wives had no legal status apart from their
husbands, and vowed to serve and obey them in return for protection
and support. Privileged men could indulge in romantic, erotic
love affairs with mistresses, flaunting them as a polygamist
would an appealing new wife, without greatly damaging their
marriages or their wives’ status. Their resources (and,
postmortem, their estates) remained the inheritance of their
wife’s children; their illegitimate children had no claims
at all. Monogamy seldom provided fathers with a large pool of
potential workers, but then slavery and serfdom made for good
substitutes.
By
about 1300, Christianity had spread across Europe, and despite
pockets of resistance — the sixteenth-century Anabaptists,
for instance — installed monogamy along with it. Little
changed until, in the eighteenth century, the Western world
was rocked by the combined force of the Enlightenment and the
Industrial Revolution. While philosophers and political thinkers
challenged age-old assumptions about authority, industry created
a resource-rich middle class, which increasingly populated cities,
where word spread quickly: the divine right of kings had given
way to the notion of universal rights to life, liberty, and
property.
These
new ideas ultimately altered the balance of power between men
and women, and transformed society and marriage, its core institution.
The family’s control over its children’s marriages
was increasingly tempered by a regard for individual preferences,
and the idea of marrying for love gained momentum. Love would
provide companionship, emotional satisfaction, and, most important,
an end to the cruelty that marked so many marriages. Women saw
love as the lifeline to a decent life, an assurance that they
would be treated respectfully by their husbands. As a result,
many resisted marrying until they inspired love (and not just
interest in their dowries) in a prospective husband. In a journal
entry dated March 6, 1830, for instance, Upper Canadian Mary
Gapper reported that she’d agreed to marry Edward O’Brien
only after concluding that she would gain “the possession
of a heart capable of entering into all my views & feelings
& attached to me with an affection so exactly suited to
my humour that I sometimes almost fancy that I must myself have
dictated it.”
But
as love and marriage became increasingly linked in the popular
mind, so did the idea of ending loveless marriages — a
significant peril of this new incarnation of monogamy. For the
profoundly religious, dissolving a marriage isn’t an option,
but by the nineteenth century the traditional authority of Christian
churches had declined significantly, and divorce became a legal
rather than a moral issue. In 1857, the British Matrimonial
Causes Act made divorce available to Canadian women, but only
if they could prove adultery coupled with perverse or cruel
behaviours such as bigamy, incest, or bestiality, and even then
only by act of Parliament. A small cohort of women seeking divorce
ventured south of the border, where it had been widely available
by mid-century. Over the next few decades, however, incremental
reforms to Canadian property law gave married women the right
to retain their own wages and eventually, by 1884, to manage
and dispose of their own property. The conditions under which
departing wives could gain custody of their children were also
expanding, and by 1887 the court was basing its decisions on
the best interests of the children and the condition of both
parents. In 1968, Canada passed the Divorce Act, with provisions
for no-fault divorce and universal access to spousal support.
By making it feasible for women to leave, divorce law had effectively
liberalized marriage.
Meanwhile,
a great deal of liberal infrastructure was developing around
the concept of monogamy. Take personal income tax: first levied
in 1917 to finance the First World War, it became the welfare
state’s greatest source of revenue, and the calculation
always assumed monogamy, simply because that was the only legal
form of marriage. Single men were presumed to need less money
and were taxed 4 percent on all income over $1,500, while married
men were entitled to an exemption on the first $3,000, enabling
them to support two-person family units. Today, the basic personal
exemption ($10,382 for 2010) applies equally to all, but tax
benefits and credits are calculated according to marital status,
which of course still means one spouse or none. And the same
basic configuration has shaped most modern benefit programs:
social assistance, Employment Insurance, Old Age Security or
the Canadian Pension Plan, private health insurance, and pensions.
It
is in this context that polygamy has come to seem an abomination.
Except for a few isolated cases, it was rare until the sudden
appearance of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
in the 1830s. Joseph Smith was living in Pennsylvania when an
angel named Moroni revealed to him the location of a set of
buried golden plates engraved with sacred text, which he then
translated using seer stones and published in The Book of
Mormon. God also told him that in order to be “exalted”
in the afterlife, certain leaders should marry more than one
woman and have many children. Smith obeyed, marrying a succession
of women, many of them teenagers or the wives of other men.
He might have got away with it, but he decided to run for president
in 1844, and was eventually murdered by an armed mob. His successor,
Brigham Young, led the Mormons to the isolated frontier of Utah,
but the government wasn’t about to forget about them.
In 1878, a year after Young died, having “sealed”
with or married fifty-six women who collectively bore him fifty-seven
children, the US Supreme Court criminalized polygamy. Canada
followed suit twelve years later with Article 278 of the Canadian
Criminal Code, which outlawed “what among the persons
commonly called Mormons is known as spiritual or plural marriage.”
To
save their church and their hides, most members of the Church
of Latter-day Saints officially renounced polygamy, but a small
breakaway group of ex-Mormons, the FLDS, established polygamous
communities in remote areas of Utah, Arizona, Texas —
and, in 1946, Lister, BC. Not only was the town remote from
“gentile” society, but its founders also assumed
that the Canadian government, which had been recruiting badly
needed settlers from persecuted European sects such as the Hutterites
and Doukhobors, would keep its distance. Later, polygamous men
in the US who struggled to support huge households flocked to
Lister, where they could rely on help from the state: their
Canadian(ized) wives were eligible for free medical care, daycare
subsidies, and eventually the Old Age Pension. As soon as the
women were impregnated, their status as technically single mothers
also entitled them to claim welfare assistance and other child
benefits, a practice known as “bleeding the beast.”
By the early 1980s, several hundred members lived in the community,
including Winston Blackmore, one of the thirty-one children
of Ray Blackmore, an early bishop of Lister. On assuming the
mantle in 1984, Winston renamed it Bountiful.
There
is something unsavoury about a smug patriarch like Winston Blackmore
taking advantage of Canada’s liberal institutions, but
isn’t that bad taste the best test of our commitment to
liberalism? Rights advocates are accustomed to holding their
noses. When a human rights complaint was brought against Alberta
pastor Stephen Boissoin for a viciously homophobic letter to
the editor published in the Red Deer Advocate in 2002,
a spokesman for the gay rights group Egale responded, “When
that opinion is vehement and hurtful, it’s even more challenging
to defend the right of that opinion to be expressed . . . [But]
support his right, we must. If Boissoin was no longer able to
share his views, then who might be next in also having their
freedom of expression limited.” And, by the same token,
a handful of conservative Christians have advocated for civil
same-sex marriage. So why shouldn’t we find a way to advocate
on behalf of Winston Blackmore in his struggle to practice polygamy
unhindered, on the grounds of religious freedom? Why not, in
fact, open up marriage to polygamists by legalizing the right
to engage in it?
In
answering that question, it’s useful to imagine for a
moment doing so. Among all the benefits programs we would have
to overhaul, perhaps the most satisfying would be welfare, since
we could prevent the wives of Bountiful from “bleeding
the beast.” This would entail creating a system to accurately
assess household income in a family with multiple earning spouses,
as well as accounting for economies of scale, i.e., the second
wife should be less expensive than the first, the third less
expensive than the second, and so on. But exactly how much less
expensive? And how would the money be divided among the wives?
The same complex issues would arise in the process of adapting
various benefit programs that hinge on marriage, and in all
but welfare the project would be further confounded by the fact
that multiple wives would cost the provider more. Consider Old
Age Security: currently, a recipient’s spouse is entitled
to an allowance. If that remained, the Blackmores’ household
alone could collectively stand to clear more than twenty-six
times the norm; on the other hand, any attempt by the government
to cap benefits for legally married plural spouses would undoubtedly
lead to costly constitutional challenges. When the Ontario court
ruled, in 1999, that the definition of common law marriage included
same-sex unions, the provincial government had to amend sixty-seven
statutes, but that’s nothing compared to the nation-wide
administrative crisis that would ensue if we attempted to accommodate
polygamy.
The
thornier issue, however, is marriage itself. The legislated
definition of marriage as “the lawful union of two persons
to the exclusion of all others,” was only just passed
in 2005, and would be easy enough to fix by deleting the second
clause. But divorce law, which is how the state promotes equality
within monogamous unions, is ill equipped to do the same within
polygamous ones. Provincial laws currently ensure that when
two parties end a marriage, assets accumulated during the relationship
are divided equally, with limited exceptions. How much of a
husband’s contribution to the marital property would a
departing wife receive if she had eight co-wives? One-tenth?
But what if those wives appeared on the scene later or earlier
— or both? Finally, what, if any, of their contribution
would she have a right to? The women didn’t marry each
other; they married their husband. And that’s why it would
not only be infinitely complicated to apply divorce law to polygamy;
it would never meet Western liberal standards of fairness. A
husband could always dilute his wife’s stake in the family
assets by unilaterally deciding to marry another wife.
American
legal scholar Adrienne Davis, who believes that conventional
family law rooted in monogamous marriage may not be up to attempts
at cobbling polygamous marriage onto it, points out an alternative:
commercial partnership law. Typically used when two or more
parties go into business, according to Davis it would certainly
address “polygamy’s central conundrum: ensuring
fairness and establishing baseline behaviour in contexts characterized
by multiple partners, on-going entrances and exits, and life-defining
economic and personal stakes.” Of course, there would
be a huge administrative cost to both adapting the model to
marriage, and to ensuring that over the course of a union all
partners consented to any new additions to it and renegotiated
their respective rights as the landscape changed. More to the
point, however, this is not what polygamists want, and it’s
not what we want. Remember, liberal marriage was built on the
concept of love; it’s hard to imagine a way of squaring
this with the filing of an annual marriage report.
In
our longing to ensure that everyone enjoys every possible right,
we have been willing to stretch our imaginations, swallow our
bile and give polygamy a chance. That is no less than our values
demand of us. But legalizing it is not ultimately in the same
category as granting a pastor the right to express his loathing
of homosexuality, or as legalizing gay marriage. While much
has been made, in particular, of the parallel between sanctioning
same-sex unions and sanctioning polygamy, not least by Blackmore
himself (at one point, he went so far as to suggest that the
marriage of one of his Canadian wives with an American wife
was proof of his support for gay marriage, and not a ploy to
outfox immigration regulations), the outcomes couldn’t
be more different. The former brought people into an existing
system of rights; the latter poses a significant threat to that
system. And that’s probably our cue, as a liberal society,
to hold our noses and draw the line.
COMMENTS
epomera@sympatico.ca
Interesting article. King Solomon was not an early Christian
Patriarch, he predates Christianity by several centuries,
but a Jewish one.
All African countries have high rates of polygamy, not just
West Africa. Pre- Islamic cultures permitted many wives, and
many Christians who practice syncretized animism in countries
such as Uganda, Nigeria and Benin still have as many as ten
or more wives. So Islam is not the only culprit, although
it certainly perpetrates polygamy world-wide.
Related
articles:
Banking
on Heaven
The
Shape of Rape in Pakistan
Prostitution: Gender-based Income Redistribution with Honour
and Dignity