In Malta, about 20 per cent of the adult population is, for one reason or another, reluctant to take the COVID-19 vaccine.
Now that the contagion rate has shifted again upwards, the eyes of the rest of the country are on them. At this point, a ‘struggle’ between the two factions is very likely.
On one side, there is a majority who believe that all adults should be vaccinated, irrespective of age and general health condition. This majority is backed up by the mainstream health authorities who assess the pros of being vaccinated as outweighing the cons. In the policy of mass vaccinations, they see the light after the darkness. They tend to consider any serious side effects as very rare occurrences; acceptable and remote ‘collateral damage’ in their striving for a higher goal.
On the other side of the spectrum, the minority are sceptical of the official vaccination’s protocols and guidelines. Most people in this segment are not against vaccinations outright but believe that only those considered at risk should be vaccinated. They argue that, if these sensitive segments are protected, COVID-related casualties should also drop.
Almost all of them are particularly sensitive to the issue of side effects. They tend to doubt the official guidelines issued by the medical authorities and pharmaceutical companies.
While adopting a ‘wait and see’ approach, they hope for a higher degree of certainty before deciding the best way forward. In doing so, they are willing to take some risks, hence, relying more on their immunity system, at least in the short term.
Though it is not explicit, the policies are already shifting from persuasion to enforcement
This goes against the advice of the institutions that are continuously assessing the general situation, which is still very fluid.
In a country whose basic modus operandi is typically laissez-faire, something is changing now, swiftly and decisively. The rhetoric has been altered.
In the ‘war’ being waged against the pandemic, new words such as ‘obligatory’, ‘mandatory’ and ‘compulsory’ are popping up more frequently than commercials on a YouTube channel.
One can presume that behind the baroque walls of Castille much thought is being given to the issue and many questions are being asked: “What can we do with the 20 per cent?” “What is the next step?” And most importantly: “How far can we push so that more people will get vaccinated?”
The questions are difficult and need ample reflection; any decisions taken in a draconian fashion may have ramifications that go well beyond the pandemic.
Considerations of a moral nature also need to be made. Is it appropriate for a majority to impose the vaccination on a minority? Does this minority ‒ these seemingly staunch believers that the jab should only be taken by those segments of society considered at high risk ‒ have a right to decide these matters for themselves? How far can a democratic state, an organisation or an employer go in ‘persuading’ their subjects to get vaccinated? In the very rare case that someone suffers serious side effects, does it make them legally liable for damages?
Though it is not explicit, the policies are already shifting from persuasion to enforcement. At workplaces, non-vaccinated staff are being directed to undergo periodical COVID-19 tests while foreign workers have been subjected to mandatory vaccinations upon renewal of their work permits. Other selective measures may come into force, especially if the situation goes downhill unexpectedly.
French philosopher and literary giant Albert Camus, whose 1947 novel La Peste (The Plague) is universally considered to be a masterpiece of that era, said: “Democracy is not the law of the majority but the protection of the minority.”
In the current scenario, a higher rate of vaccinated individuals may be desirable by the authorities, institutions and the majority. However, enforcement or veiled excessive influence may be, frankly speaking, inadmissible and undemocratic.