Politics and the pro-life movement
By JOE FEUERHERD
John Cavanaugh OKeefe -- a 52-year-old Harvard graduate, Vietnam War conscientious objector, and longtime pro-life activist -- fervently believes legalized abortion in the United States will end. But not in his lifetime.
The pro-life movement is going nowhere, says OKeefe. After 30 years of work, the movement is dead.
OKeefe is not alone. It would be both untrue and overly dramatic to say that the pro-life movement has lost, according to Teresa R. Wagner, former antiabortion lobbyist and editor of the forthcoming Back to the Drawing Board: The Future of the Pro-Life Movement. But we are not winning. And the sooner we face it, the sooner we change it.
OKeefe and Wagner are realists. Thirty years and 40 million legal pregnancy terminations after the Supreme Courts Roe v. Wade decision on Jan. 22, 1973, abortion competes with laser eye surgery for the distinction of being the most common surgical procedure performed in the United States.
While legislative fights over high-profile abortion-related issues continue to grab headlines -- a proposed ban on partial birth abortion is the most recent example -- the effort to overturn Roe is as far from reality today as it has been at anytime since Justice Harry Blackmun penned the landmark decision.
The venues for debating Roe change over time. At the center of todays storm are judicial nominees, whose appearances before the divided Senate Judiciary Committee are designed to ferret out their views on the decision. Even here, President Bushs nominees wave the white flag. Asked at a recent hearing if Roe was settled law, meaning that it should not be overturned, Bush nominee Miguel Estrada agreed that it was.
Legal abortion in 2003, it seems, is as American as apple pie.
American ambivalence over abortion is legendary -- and maddening to the lobbies that have grown up on each side of the debate. Americans think abortion should be legal, but they think it should be regulated, says Catholics for a Free Choice president Frances Kissling, and theyre much more comfortable with it remaining legal if they feel it is being regulated. And that, of course, is an unsatisfactory position to those who are either deeply committed to the antiabortion cause or to the pro-choice cause.
Where pro-life and pro-choice antagonists see black and white, most Americans view grey: willing to restrict and regulate the practice in some cases (late-term abortions and parental consent for minors who seek abortions, for example), but unwilling to require a woman to carry a defective child, or one created through the violence of rape or incest.
How do Americans view legal abortion? A necessary evil, say the public opinion polls, lying somewhere on a fuzzy continuum between birth control and infanticide. The nuance expressed by the public -- nearly half of Americans call themselves pro-life though most favor some version of the legal status quo -- is not shared by their elected leaders. With exceptions that prove the rule, modern Democrats are pro-choice, while Republicans -- especially those outside the Northeast -- are pro-life.
That wasnt always the case.
The shifting politics of abortion
In the late 1960s and 70s, before positions hardened and the lines were clear, elected Democrats favored abortion restrictions in roughly the same numbers as their Republican counterparts; Republican governors Ronald Reagan (his libertarian instincts winning out) and Nelson Rockefeller (population control was a family cause) signed the most liberal pre-Roe abortion laws in the country; Jesse Jackson compared abortion to slavery, while Missouri Congressman Richard Gephardt was a Democrat for Life. Five of the seven justices joining in the Roe opinion were Republican appointees.
It was in this muddled environment that the U.S. Catholic churchs heaviest hitters visited Capitol Hill, just 14 months after Roe.
Seated before the Senate Subcommittee on Constitutional Amendments on that day in March 1974 were Philadelphia Cardinal John Krol, then-president of the U.S. bishops conference, and Cardinals John Cody (Chicago), Timothy Manning (Los Angeles) and Humberto Medeiros (Boston). It was time, the four argued, to nationalize a ban on abortion through a constitutional amendment that would re-extend the protection of law to the unborn.
Even by post-Sept. 11 standards, it was an era of turmoil. In short order, a president would resign, the United States would lose a war, and lengthy lines at filling stations would provide a visible symbol of a battered U.S. economy. But those were secondary concerns to the bishops, understandably perhaps, as the hierarchy of the U.S. Catholic church had provided over the previous decade the only significant institutional opposition to liberalized state abortion laws. The Roe decision only intensified that commitment.
The subcommittees consideration of a constitutional amendment banning abortion, said Krol, is an encouraging sign of forward movement which, we hope, will soon lead to congressional enactment Continued Krol: I emphasize the word soon, for this issue has an urgency shared by few others now confronting the nation.
By the bishops reckoning, the pre-Roe legal changes promoted by the National Association for the Repeal of Abortion Laws, the American Civil Liberties Union, and the Planned Parenthood Federation of America amounted to nothing less than state-sanctioned killing on a potentially massive scale. It had to be stopped, and the political arena was the mechanism to halt the slaughter.
In 1971, the bishops organized the National Right to Life Committee as an arm of their Family Life office. Following the courts decision, the committee would be spun-off into a separate organization, and today is the largest antiabortion organization in the country.
The rights that were upheld in Roe v. Wade are hanging by a very tenuous thread at best, Planned Parenthood president Gloria Feldt wrote in a November 2002 fundraising appeal. The questionable presumption of that statement -- that Roe faces extinction in the near future -- is forgivable, perhaps, in the hyperbole inherent in direct mail money-raising appeals. But it also obscures Planned Parenthoods history. In fact, the organization founded by Margaret Sanger as the American Birth Control League in 1923 has faced much tougher battles than it does today.
In 1955, when abortion was illegal in all but the rarest of cases, Planned Parenthood organized a conference on Abortion in America. That meeting spurred a movement that would knock down restrictive state abortion laws and in just 18 years provide a constitutional right to the procedure. It was a remarkable victory.
The time was right: Supporters of abortion liberalization were aided by the sexual revolution (the birth control pill was approved by the FDA for wide distribution in 1960), by the tragedy of the thalidomide and rubella babies of the era, and by growing antipathy toward powerful institutions, the Catholic church not least among them.
Access to legal abortion was promoted primarily as a womans health issue -- it would eliminate back alley abortionists whose procedures, the advocates said, killed thousands of women each year. Plus, there would be additional benefits, among them a reduction in the number of unwanted children (those most likely, the reasoning went, to suffer from abuse and neglect), improved population control (Paul Ehrlichs 1968 book, The Population Bomb, hit home with policymakers), and reduced social spending on the children of the poor.
In 1970, the National Organization for Women would make abortion rights a priority, formally linking the emerging feminist movement to the growing effort to repeal state abortion laws. By the end of that year, seven states -- including New York and California -- had overturned their bans and adopted laws based on a model promoted by Planned Parenthood and its allies in the legal and medical professions.
And then, in January 1973, the Supreme Court -- ruling in Roe v. Wade and its companion case, Doe v. Bolton -- found that the 14th amendment provides a fundamental right of privacy, that a decision to have an abortion should be made by a woman in consultation with her doctor.
The following day, the bishops pro-life committee issued a statement: Every legal possibility must be explored to challenge the opinion of the United States Supreme Court decision that withdraws all legal safeguards for the right to life of the unborn child.
In November 1975 the full body of bishops approved a Pastoral Plan for Pro-Life Activities, which called on each diocese to establish a pro-life office and supported political efforts to reverse the courts opinion. It was a detailed strategy, one that called on the bishops to expend political capital and place abortion at the top of their social agenda, where it has been ever since.
Beginning in 1981, the mainstream right-to-life movement would place its hopes on an antiabortion president -- Ronald Reagans conversion to the pro-life position preceded his 1980 victory. Combined with the first Republican Senate in a generation, pro-lifers sensed that a constitutional amendment was within their grasp. The effort was bolstered by new recruits -- conservative evangelical and fundamentalist Protestants, the Christian right, had been energized by Reagans campaign and joined with Catholics in opposing legal abortion.
But pro-lifers split on tactics (should abortion policy be relegated to the states or should the fetus be declared a person?) and, in any case, didnt have the votes to override the court.
While the mainstream movement pursued political objectives, others chose another course: nonviolent civil disobedience. The goal as they saw it: convert the public and its elected leaders through their witness, as Ghandi had done in India and Martin Luther King in the United States.
John OKeefe -- who has worked for many pro-life groups, including the National Right to Life Committee, Human Life International and the American Life League -- was a proponent of direct action. Early on, he recalled, It seemed obvious to me what you needed was a campaign of nonviolence. A pamphlet he authored -- A Peaceful Presence -- described how pro-lifers could use the tools of nonviolence to change the status quo.
For more than a decade, OKeefe and others would lead demonstrations and sit-ins at abortion clinics. Arrests were made and media attention garnered. Noticeably absent from this effort, however, were the mainstream pro-life movement and the U.S. bishops.
OKeefe is bitter that the leaders of his church chose legislation and politics over civil disobedience. Their actions -- lobbying and political maneuvering -- fell short of their rhetoric, which welcomed unborn children as members of the human family worthy of the same legal protections as those who had passed through a birth canal.
By the end of 1973, OKeefe said, every American bishop should have been in jail, the cardinals first. The reason for the red [hat] is that you are a leader following the martyrs of the first centuries of the church. That means that when the lion is eating people, you go first. Several bishops would take up the banner of nonviolent resistance and protest, New York auxiliary Austin Vaughan most prominently. But, in general, the bishops discouraged such activity -- doubtful of its impact and fearful of the consequences such organized illegal activity could bring upon the church.
On the political front, pro-choice Catholics such as New York Gov. Mario Cuomo and vice presidential candidate Geraldine Ferraro proved an embarrassment to the bishops. If they couldnt control their own flock -- polls showed Catholics viewed abortion with the same ambivalence as their non-Catholic neighbors and that Catholic women had abortions at roughly the same rates as non-Catholic women -- how could they change national policy?
Meanwhile, having failed to secure the magic bullet of a constitutional amendment, the political effort focused on the next best thing: reshape the Supreme Court into an anti-Roe majority. Here, too, the effort fell short. In Casey v. Planned Parenthood, Reagan-Bush appointees Anthony Kennedy, Sandra Day OConnor, and David Souter formed a critical block to preserve the essential findings of Roe.
Enter Bill Clinton. Abortion, said the 1992 candidate, should be safe, legal and rare.
With masterful precision, the poll-tested phrase conjured up consensus just as the most extreme elements of the right-to-life movement moved beyond peaceful demonstration to highly publicized violence against abortion clinics and doctors who performed the procedures. The stigma of violence -- eight abortion clinic staff were killed in the 1990s, and more than a dozen injured in bombings and shootings -- placed the pro-life movement on the permanent defensive.
Clinton would make protection of abortion rights a hallmark of his presidency, reinstituting U.S. funding of international family planning efforts (which included abortion services), appointing pro-Roe judges, and vetoing a ban on so-called partial-birth abortion.
Thirty years later, what has the pro-life movement learned? Some of its leaders still seek the magic bullet: We need to have a court that will look at the Constitution and examine it and recognize the incredible inadequacy of Roe v. Wade, says National Right to Life Committee president Wanda Franz. Pro-choice and pro-life groups are gearing up for the next session of Congress, where legislation to ban partial-birth abortions will be considered, as will measures to promote parental notification and to provide distinct criminal penalties for harming the unborn child in an attack on a pregnant woman.
While acknowledging the need to push legislation -- if only to highlight the least publicly palatable aspects of legal abortion -- the pro-life movement has settled in for the long haul. There is a concerted effort among some pro-lifers to return to the 19th-century solution, where states banned abortion largely on the basis of the harm it did to women.
In a memo circulated among pro-life forces, Concerned Women for America Legislative Director Michael Schwartz spelled out the concept:
The reason [the public is] not in favor of eliminating legalized abortion is that they also believe abortion somehow is necessary for the well-being of the mothers of those babies. We must break through this mother-versus-baby framing of the issue by bringing to public consciousness in every conceivable way the fact that abortion hurts women.
The memo continues: Once the public is disabused of the notion that abortion is good for women, it will no longer face a conflict between two compelling claims. When the well-being of mothers and their babies is balanced only against the well-being of abortionists, then public opinion will be solidly behind our position. Litigation, research and even the legislative battles we choose should all be designed to show how abortion hurts women.
That approach is highlighted most recently in an advertising campaign timed to coincide with Roes 30th anniversary. Abortion is a reflection that we have not met the needs of women, say the ads, sponsored by the U.S. bishops and the Knights of Columbus. Women deserve better than abortion.
A recent daylong conference at Georgetown University hammered at the theme. Speakers at the event highlighted the ills they claim befall women who undergo an abortion: higher rates of breast cancer, increased risk of depression and suicide, and death by botched procedures among them.
Other tactics underway include promoting, both as a public relations tool and as a means to reduce the number of abortions, the work of the nations 3,000 pro-life pregnancy centers. In addition, pro-life forces want to reduce access to abortion by stigmatizing the relatively few doctors who perform the operations, and by burdening abortion clinics with costly regulation.
In their statement commemorating Roes 30th anniversary, the U.S. bishops call for Roes demise. Yet they also see progress: The number of abortions is down from a high of 1.6 million in 1990 to 1.3 million in 2000, an increasing number of Americans view themselves as pro-life, and advances in ultrasound technology make fetal life visible. These, and other trends, are hopeful signs, the bishops said, as we work to bring about a society that recognizes abortion for what it truly is.
That approach is a far cry from the day when pro-life forces thought their goals were within their grasp. Its a new era, which has an eye to the law, but is more concerned with changing public perceptions.
So much for ordinary politics, writes one-time abortion provider turned pro-lifer Bernard Nathanson. An America capable of passing a pro-life amendment would not need one; an America that needs one cannot possibly pass it.
Joe Feuerherd is NCR Washington correspondent. His e-mail address is email@example.com
National Catholic Reporter, January 17, 2003