Abortion law in context, from the perspective of a Texan
Kristen argues that a battle for political power and control lies behind the most recent abortion ban in Texas, and considers the implications of this for women and underserved populations worldwide.
Content warning: this article discusses abortion
Abortion is a touchy subject that can often elicit a broad spectrum of reactions, both from public health professionals and lay voters alike. An understood silence is even more real and raw in my home state of Texas, a place where abortion law has taken centre stage in a national debate about the role of religion in government, women’s rights, and healthcare quality. However, the pursuit of restricting women’s bodily autonomy is not so much a moral battle, as Texas legislators may like you to believe, as it is a struggle over a rapidly changing culture.
When people ask, I like to describe Texas as a microcosm for all the political tension currently unfolding in the United States (US), not unlike trends in the United Kingdom (UK), France, and other countries. It’s a state that is rapidly expanding, diversifying, and simultaneously attempting to hold onto its identity. These themes appear to conflict many long-term residents, and a fierce defence of tradition, homogeneity, and intolerance has taken hold of a swath of voters. The most recent result of attempts to uphold reactionary values within the laws of the state is the Texas Heartbeat Act (Senate Bill 8), signed into law by the governor Greg Abbott on the 1 September this year, which bans abortions six weeks after conception. This bill is the most restrictive abortion law of the century, and openly defies the legal precedents set by Roe v. Wade in 1973 (a legal case in which the US Supreme Court ruled that a state law banning abortions was unconstitutional), limited though they are. Arguably, one of the most remarkable features of the legislation is that it relies on civil reporting to keep women in check, as opposed to criminal enforcement of the ruling.
Growing up as a woman in Texas has taught me many things. Chief among them is resilience, an appreciation for cultural diversity, and the belief that I can achieve anything with a hardworking spirit. However, the state’s restrictive laws placed on female freedom have defied these values, and mandated the loss of opportunity for many women, especially women of colour. Unfortunately, the novel abortion ban is one of several laws passed by the state government that reduces the freedom of its people. While the Texas legislature was drafting Senate Bill 8, it was simultaneously constructing regulations to restrict voting rights. Senate Bill 1, signed into law on 7 September, reduces the validity of mail-in voting, shutters 24/7 polling stations, and grants free movement to partisan poll watchers (volunteers who observe the election process) in voting locations. All of these restrictions target the novel initiatives developed by Harris County to facilitate voting in the 2020 presidential election. This encompassed the state’s largest and most diverse city of Houston and primarily impacted voters of colour. By passing both of these laws, Texas legislature has effectively revoked the legal rights of women of colour to receive an abortion, and to vote freely and easily.
While Republican lawmakers may refute their desire to dismantle the rights of minority groups within Texas voting pools, the restrictive abortion law currently in place is clearly not an attempt to protect unborn children. If that were the case, it would have been accompanied by sweeping child support mandates, day-care stipends, and mandatory paid parental leave. Furthermore, if the law represented the legislators’ belief that all life is sacred, they would be applying equally vigorous restrictions to gun ownership, eliminating the death penalty, and funnelling government funds towards public health measures and education. Instead, the highly religious language used to justify the ban is simply an attempt to consolidate power through the mobilisation of evangelical voters. The US prides itself on religious freedom, and reduced government involvement in matters that involve personal beliefs. However, when it comes to maintaining a significant portion of your voter base and eliminating the power of your opposition—anything is fair game.
Because political complexity has created such tangible tension in Texas, it would be inaccurate to paint these events as straightforward racist acts against a large proportion of Texas residents, although their repercussions certainly have that effect. Rather, they represent the last dying breaths of a government that no longer represents the people. Texas republicans have played every move at their disposal to maintain power, including gerrymandering the most diverse portions of primarily left-leaning cities, passing the aforementioned restrictive voting laws, and mobilising evangelical values to support their claim to moral supremacy. However, Texas is changing, much like the rest of the world. The population is becoming increasingly youthful, and Texans of Hispanic heritage are set to comprise the largest demographic group in the state by 2022. These populations tend to swing left, a fact that was exemplified during the 2020 presidential election where only slightly less than half of the state voted for Joe Biden—the greatest turnout of blue votes since the state switched to red in 1980 during the election of Ronald Reagan. Reactionary representatives can see writing on the wall: it won’t be long before Texas becomes at least a toss-up state, much like Florida, where election turnover is high, and leadership is diverse.
Finally, the US Supreme Court—the highest court in the land—has done nothing to protect women and their rights against the draconian rules laid out within Senate Bill 8. Even though the court could choose to temporarily suspend the law while it considers the bill’s legality, a 5-4 decision permitted the ruling to move forward without challenge. Although it now appears the court will reconsider this position, and likely rule in favour of abortion providers, this slow action has left hundreds of women exposed to the risks of unsafe abortions and the “civil servants” hell-bent on reporting and punishing their private actions. I’m fortunate enough to now live in a country where abortions are safe and legal, but my heart breaks for other Texan women who cannot say the same, and whose government refuses to protect them. Restrictive abortion laws do not stand alone, and Texas’ inability to release its hold on women’s freedom is, in reality, an expression of a fear of change. Sadly, the reflections of a faltering democracy afflict not only Texas, or the US; Europe is well on its way to a political schism of its own. In what other ways will scapegoated women, minorities, and immigrants suffer? Illegalised abortion is simply a signpost on the road toward the erosion of human rights in the name of power.