Hamilton’s Johnson Aziga is the world’s first person to be charged with murder for spreading AIDS. His trial, in process since last October, involves two counts of first-degree murder and 11 counts of aggravated sexual assault. Aziga knew about his HIV status in the ’90s and did not disclose it. He infected multiple women, and two died of AIDS-related complications. Aziga’s case is expected to come to a close next month; in the meantime, the world is debating the criminalization of HIV. Controversies have flared in recent weeks.
HIV/AIDS is a social issue like no other. There is no cure for AIDS; like hepatitis and diabetes it must be medicated and controlled for a lifetime. It carries a stigma like no other infection, with links to sexual preference and practice, race, and poverty. Since 1998, AIDS has been the only disease one can be charged for exposing others to (not necessarily infecting them with) under Canadian law. Since then, there has been a grey area concerning consent and malice.
At first, the idea of criminalizing HIV disclosure seems logical: in order to give real consent, people must be informed of their partner’s status. But opponents raise convincing arguments which reveal the big picture. UNAIDS, the Joint United Nations Programme, believes criminalization only adds to our extreme misunderstanding and prejudice towards the HIV-positive. Increased stigma means embarrassment and thus less testing. At the same time, some will assume that the law somehow protects them against infection.
Aziga’s case involves variables. Aziga is Ugandan-born. One witness said that she asked Aziga directly if he had AIDS, and was lied to. Some of his former partners were infected, while others were only placed at risk. Judges are supposed to base decisions on legal precedents. While the outcome of Aziga’s trial should make it easier to settle this debate, the case is more complicated. Sexual dynamics are difficult to understand and even more confusing to legislate, especially in a country of diverse cultural and medical norms.
What Canada needs is a Royal Commission. Yes, these notoriously lengthy commissions cost millions and occasionally lead to corruption. They have, however, provided our nation with legal and social guidance about such complicated issues as women’s rights, bilingualism, and Aboriginal issues.
Almost 60,000 Canadians live with positive status. The significant amount of those affected by AIDS makes it necessary to inquire into the relationship between the disease and Canadian law, attitudes, and public awareness.
It’s widely unknown that the vast majority of HIV court cases involve heterosexual couples. Anthropologists suggest that this is not due to people’s ability to dodge the justice system; rather, it is increasingly assumed that the LGBT community has better-established codes on disclosure and safe sex, perhaps as a result of the AIDS crisis in the ’90s. If the minority is able to deal with this, why shouldn’t the majority?
This commission could investigate all the issues surrounding AIDS in Canada, including its affect on the gay community. We need laws to protect people from being intentionally infected, but we also need to reach a better understanding of this disease to challenge the widely-held stigmas about it. The commission could propose training for HIV-positive people, and measures to ensure that more people get tested.
With these commissions, a national discussion is started, and many are given a voice. A committee of diverse experts delivers suggestions to legislators, who try to figure out solutions. We’ve done this with other issues. We must for AIDS.
After all, this is a perfect opportunity. Because of Aziga, Canada is being watched by the rest of the world. Rather than allow the jury’s decision in a complicated trial dictate our laws, we must examine our thoughts and beliefs in order to establish a more inclusive and just society. Canada can set a precedent, helping to solve one of the world’s toughest questions.
