The Coffee Table

255

Envisioning Exodus

Oh, boy. Sometimes the daily news knocks the wind out of me. It’s not enough that states are banning abortion and barring women from seeking safe, legal abortions in other states, or that frozen embryos have more rights than a living breathing woman. 

Now The Washington Post tells me, “Republican lawmakers in Missouri blocked a bill to widen access to birth-control pills by falsely claiming they induce abortions. An antiabortion group in Louisiana killed legislation to enshrine a right to birth control by inaccurately equating emergency contraception with abortion drugs. An Idaho think tank focused on “biblical activism” is pushing state legislators to ban access to emergency contraception and intrauterine devices (IUDs) by mislabeling them as ‘abortifacients.’”

And these are not the only states publicly conflating abortion with contraception. 

So let’s be clear. In a nutshell, pregnancy officially starts when a fertilized egg implants in the lining of the uterus.  In one way or another, emergency contraception, IUDs, and birth control pills keep eggs from being fertilized. If there is no fertilized egg, there is no pregnancy. Nothing to abort.

Now, some folks probably think there’s no way contraception would be outlawed. But let’s consider history: In 1973, the Supreme Court determined the right to abortion is protected by the 14th amendment of the Constitution.  According to the Brennan Center for Justice, “In Roe v. Wade, the Supreme Court decided that the right to privacy implied in the 14th Amendment protected abortion as a fundamental right.” Yet in 2002, the Supreme Court overturned that decision.  Justice Alito argued that privacy is not guaranteed by the Constitution. 

Hmmmm. In 1965, the Supreme Court ruled that the U.S. Constitution protects married couples’ right to use contraceptives without government restriction—based on the right to privacy. In 1972 this protection was granted to the unmarried, as well.

But clearly the Right to privacy isn’t the most secure foundation. 

Any legislator who supports any sort of ban on contraceptives ought to be forced to watch the PBS television drama, Call the Midwife (available on Netflix), which addresses the history of contraception. It takes place in Britain, but the message is relevant in America, too: If families cannot access reliable birth control, more people—including passels of children—will live in poverty.  In desperation, women will seek illegal abortions, which are expensive and dangerous. 

Now, there are likely some male legislators who can disregard the poverty and desperation. They miss the time when female competition was limited, and men (particularly white men) were in charge. Banning abortion and contraceptives looks like a good way to get back to those glory days. (I can think of no rationale for female supporters of a ban on contraceptives except insanity.)

Those of us who don’t relish the prospect of reliving the “good old days,” must do what we can with our votes. But voting might not be enough—since there’s an organized sector of the population that will argue that ballots should be recounted, discounted, counteracted, and counterattacked—without accountability.

So I have an alternate plan: All women should take their cue from Lysistrata, the comedic antiwar play written by Aristophanes, in 411 B.C., wherein women refused to have sex until the men in power negotiated peace. If today’s women would vacate states that are enacting these draconian laws and make their homes in places where women are respected—their rights honored and preserved, the male legislators left behind will be scratching their heads (and other parts of the anatomy) in frustration. If women would vow not to return until this war is settled—in terms that honor women’s humanity—maybe peace, and our right to privacy, would be restored.