Sex selective abortion is morally wrong, but it is not the norm

A <em>Telegraph</em> investigation has found doctors willing to abort babies on the basis of their g

The Department of Health is to look into claims that some doctors are giving women illegal abortions based on the gender of their baby.

An investigation by the Daily Telegraph sent undercover reporters to accompany women to nine clinics in different parts of the UK. In three cases, doctors were secretly filmed agreeing to arrange abortions even when they were told that the reason the woman didn't want to go ahead with the pregnancy was their child's gender. One doctor was recorded saying: "I don't ask questions. If you want a termination, you want a termination".

The Health Secretary, Andrew Lansley, said that sex-selection was "illegal and morally wrong", as he asked officials to "urgently" look into this.
Campaigners on both sides of the abortion debate have condemned the findings. Predictably, the pro-life lobby has seized upon the findings as cause to restrict abortion laws. Anthony Ozimic of the Society for the Protection of Unborn Children described these "eugenics" as an "inevitable consequence" of easy access to terminations.

There is no question that the abortion of a foetus on the basis of its gender is an immoral practice, and it shouldn't be taking place anywhere in the world. But in a climate where Conservative MPs such as Nadine Dorries are placing pressure on the government to tighten laws around abortion -- in particular, to introduce compulsory counselling before a termination can take place -- it is important that the criminal practices of a minority are not blown out of proportion. And let's not lose sight of the fact that this is a minority. The findings of the Telegraph investigation may be shocking, but they are only three doctors. It's also worth noting that they were all at private clinics, not with the NHS.

Darinka Aleksic, campaign co-ordinator for Abortion Rights told the Guardian that "it is no surprise this has surfaced at a time when anti-choice politicians are trying to introduce new abortion counselling requirements."

Over at Liberal Conspiracy, Sunny Hundal sets the investigation in the context of Dorries' proposals, arguing:

This is being pushed now because the government is in the final stages of putting out a sham consultation on abortion counselling. I say sham because its outcome has already been decided.

Abortion providers must strictly abide by the law and their own professional guidelines, both for moral reasons, and because it is vital that the public retains trust in the system. But while illegal and unpleasant practices should not be tolerated, nor should an arbitrary tightening of restrictions for all terminations, the vast majority of which are carried out within the bounds of the law.

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

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What Donald Trump could learn from Ronald Reagan

Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement.

“No one remembers who came in second.” That wisdom, frequently dispensed by the US presidential candidate Donald Trump, came back to haunt him this week. Trump’s loss in the Iowa Republican caucuses to the Texas senator Ted Cruz, barely beating Senator Marco Rubio of Florida for second place, was the first crack in a campaign that has defied all expectations.

It has been a campaign built on Trump’s celebrity. Over the past eight months, his broad name recognition, larger-than-life personality and media savvy have produced a theatrical candidacy that has transfixed even those he repels. The question now is whether that celebrity will be enough – whether a man so obsessed with being “Number One” can bounce back from defeat.

Iowa isn’t everything, after all. It didn’t back the eventual Republican nominee in 2008 or 2012. Nor, for that matter, in 1980, when another “celebrity” candidate was in the mix. That was the year Iowa picked George H W Bush over Ronald Reagan – the former actor whom seasoned journalists dismissed as much for his right-wing views as for his “B-movie” repertoire. But Reagan regrouped, romped to victory in the New Hampshire primary and rode a wave of popular support all the way to the White House.

Trump might hope to replicate that success and has made a point of pushing the Reagan analogy more generally. Yet it is a comparison that exposes Trump’s weaknesses and his strengths.

Both men were once Democrats who came later in life to the Republican Party, projecting toughness, certainty and unabashed patriotism. Trump has even adopted Reagan’s 1980 campaign promise to “make America great again”. Like Reagan, he has shown he can appeal to evangelicals despite question marks over his religious conviction and divorces. In his ability to deflect criticism, too, Trump has shown himself as adept as Reagan – if by defiance rather than by charm – and redefined what it means to be “Teflon” in the age of Twitter.

That defiance, however, points to a huge difference in tone between Reagan’s candidacy and Trump’s. Reagan’s vision was a positive, optimistic one, even as he castigated “big government” and the perceived decline of US power. Reagan’s America was meant to be “a city upon a hill” offering a shining example of liberty to the world – in rhetoric at least. Trump’s vision is of an America closed off from the world. His rhetoric invokes fear as often as it does freedom.

On a personal level, Reagan avoided the vituperative attacks that have been the hallmark of Trump’s campaign, even as he took on the then“establishment” of the Republican Party – a moderate, urban, east coast elite. In his first run for the nomination, in 1976, Reagan even challenged an incumbent Republican president, Gerald Ford, and came close to defeating him. But he mounted the challenge on policy grounds, advocating the so-called “Eleventh Commandment”: “Thou shalt not speak ill of any fellow Republican.” Trump, as the TV debates between the Republican presidential candidates made clear, does not subscribe to the same precept.

More importantly, Reagan in 1976 and 1980 was the leader of a resurgent conservative movement, with deep wells of political experience. He had been president of the Screen Actors Guild in the late 1940s, waging a campaign to root out communist infiltrators. He had gone on to work for General Electric in the 1950s as a TV pitchman and after-dinner speaker, honing a business message that resonated beyond the “rubber chicken circuit”.

In 1964 he grabbed headlines with a televised speech on behalf of the Republican presidential candidate, Barry Goldwater – a bright spot in Goldwater’s otherwise ignominious campaign. Two years later he was elected governor of California – serving for eight years as chief executive of the nation’s most populous state. He built a conservative record on welfare reform, law and order, and business regulation that he pushed on to the federal agenda when he ran for president.

All this is to say that Reagan’s candidacy was built on more than his celebrity. By contrast, Trump not only lacks experience as an elected official, he isn’t part of any organised political movement – which enhanced his “outsider” status, perhaps, but not his ground game. So far, he has run on opportunism, tapping in to popular frustration, channelled through a media megaphone.

In Iowa, this wasn’t enough. To win the nomination he will have to do much more to build his organisation. He will be hoping that in the primaries to come, voters do remember who came in second. 

This article first appeared in the 05 February 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Putin's war