Right To Life

When Barack Obama campaigned for president, he promised to enact legislation to prohibit the states from limiting the right to abortion. Now that he is in the White House and Democratic majorities are ensconced in Congress, opponents of abortion rights are bracing for that and other major changes to abortion laws. But there are indications that what those groups dread most and some liberal voters eagerly anticipate as the rewards of victory may not come to pass -- at least not yet.

It is one of the enduring questions of religion and science, and lately of American politics: When does a fertilized egg become a person? Abortion foes, tired of a profusion of laws that limit but do not abolish abortion, are trying to answer the question in a way that they hope could put an end to legalized abortion. Across the country, they have revived efforts to amend state constitutions to declare that personhood -- and all rights accorded human beings -- begins at conception.

Not many organizations highlight their annual gatherings with updates on members subpoenaed by federal grand juries or tearful readings of letters from those who could not attend--because they are behind bars on charges ranging from murder to arson. But there was little that was ordinary about the "White Rose Banquet" on Sunday in a somewhat down-at-the-heels motel in Arlington, Va.

This gritty little city on the banks of the Mississippi--where modern riverboat gambling took its first breath and Cary Grant died--has a new claim to fame: After months of controversy and a contentious vote, this past Wednesday it became the only city in the nation to restrict abortion within its narrow boundaries. In the conservative Hawkeye State, access to abortion has dropped as the strength of religious conservatives has risen.

Just when it seemed the debate over abortion was hopelessly deadlocked, along comes feminist author Naomi Wolf with a magazine article that has stunned supporters of legalized abortion and pleasantly surprised some abortion foes. Writing in the New Republic, Wolf touched off an international uproar by suggesting that abortion-rights backers are guilty of "self-delusions, fibs and evasions" and that "the death of a fetus is a real death."

Beset by a flurry of setbacks on Capitol Hill, abortion rights advocates now face a new headache: the splashy defection of "Jane Roe." As with all abortion matters, those in favor and those against have opposing views about the impact of Norma McCorvey's decision to join forces with the anti-abortion Operation Rescue. She was the plaintiff in the 1973 Supreme Court case that gave women the right to abortions.

The woman whose unwanted pregnancy helped establish the legal right to an abortion nearly a quarter of a century ago said Thursday that she now believes abortion is wrong in some cases and pledged to begin "helping women save their babies." "Once you know the realities of an abortion and what goes along with it, it stays with you," said Norma McCorvey, better known as the pseudonymous Jane Roe of the landmark 1973 Roe vs. Wade Supreme Court decision.

Pumped up by recent political victories, the nation's largest anti-abortion organization began its annual convention here Thursday with little flexing or strutting, but plenty of talk about renewed commitment to building strength. National Right to Life Committee President Wanda Franz opened the three-day gathering with a call to push from power "the anti-life, pro-death" Clinton Administration.

One side calls it "the summer of life"; the other calls it "a campaign to demonize women." Characterizations aside, there is no dispute that the Republican-dominated House has launched a broad and concerted drive to reverse abortion rights. On Thursday, the House adopted a $267-billion defense authorization bill that bans abortions in U.S. military hospitals abroad.

In the street below, vendors hawked incense, guavas and sugar-cane juice while a Hindu priest intoned mantras to Lal Sain, a water god. On the top floor of a dirty-yellow, two-story house the doctors and nurses were ready for the next patient. The gynecological table with its steel stirrups had been covered with a worn but clean green sheet. The room reeked of disinfectant. If all went well, the surgery, performed 10 times a day on average, would take five minutes.