Where There is No Roe

Armenia's Policy of Benign Neglect

GYUMRI, ARMENIA, June 18, 2001 - Had she come along in a less remarkable time and place, Norma McCorvey might have been totally ignored. Living in Dallas in 1970, she was young, single, poor and due to have a child that she had no intention to keep. In those days, abortion was banned in Texas. Given her predicament, McCorvey seemed destined to enter the shadows; her pregnancy would be terminated by unspeakable means.

Jane Roe was the pseudonym given McCorvey when women’s advocates took up her case. Challenging the constitutionality of Texas law, Roe became a symbol of the struggle. For some, she helped to advance the cause for the safety and self-determination of women. For others, her presence signified America’s moral decline and the nation’s devaluation of human life. Roe v. Wade became a landmark case and Roe, yet another example of the power of the individual in American life.

I thought of McCorvey and Roe during a recent conversation with Dr. Marina Mkhitaryan, a local OB/GYN. Much of what she told me was nothing new. In Armenia, abortion is an accepted method of birth control. The procedure is often costly, and when administered after the first 24 weeks, extremely unsafe. But I hadn’t realized that abortion many times turns deadly. When Dr. Mkhitaryan talked about the following case, it occurred to me that Norma McCorvey exists in Armenia, but the spirit of Jane Roe does not.

[Note: Peace Corps has requested that names and specific locations be withheld]

A year ago, a young woman visited her gynecologist and was told that she needed an abortion. The woman had entered her third trimester and, according to the doctor, the fetus was dead. In certain panic, the expectant mother collected $100 from her family and friends. The price would be particularly steep because amniocentesis—which is both complicated and forbidden by law in most cases—was required. During the procedure, something went terribly wrong. The young woman began to hemorrhage badly and was rushed by ambulance to Yerevan. She was dead before arrival.

A few months later, an autopsy compounded the horror: the fetus had been healthy all along. Apparently, the doctor had ordered the abortion for the money. Word spread quickly in the community about what had happened. But because—surprise!—the doctor had family connections in local government, she was quietly moved to another (unknown) hospital where she continues to practice. Dr. Mkhitaryan told me that this was a blatant case of malpractice and extortion. And she is convinced that such cases are not all that unusual.

Whatever one thinks of abortion (I’m pro-life, in the sense that I think the procedure should be safe, legal and rare), we must agree that it will continue to be practiced. Worldwide, 20 million unsafe abortions are performed every year. And 90% of those abortions occur in developing countries. It is not easy to characterize these mothers as irresponsible and selfish—the charges most often leveled at American women who seek abortions—because most of them have few alternatives. They remain at the mercy of their husbands, their doctors and the cultural milieu.

The problem in Armenia, according to my friend Anahit Mkhoyan, is called the ear of the bear. “To change things in Armenia, the people must unite,” Mkhoyan said. “But most people are hidden away and speak only to their families about their sufferings.” Indeed, what else are they to do? The victim’s family in this case was not wealthy, and therefore had no access to the media or police. There can be no Jane Roe without these recourses.

In the face of Armenia’s cultural and political inertia, education is imperative. Despite the current U.S. President (who blithely pulled funding from overseas family planning organizations to gain political points) and the Bible thumping scolds (who have no problem with life-preventing contraceptives), it seems that Americans have an obligation to help. We are the beneficiaries of an economic system that has brought dramatic advances in reproductive health, and a political system that has made family planning safer for all segments of society. As Peace Corps volunteers, the most important thing is that we are here. The young women in Armenia need to hear that their world has the potential to be free. I don’t know how or when this change will come about, if ever. But the story of how Norma McCorvey became Jane Roe needs to be told.

Justice Harry Blackmun, author of the majority opinion in that famous case, wrote about protecting “the right most valued by civilized man—the right to be left alone.” Perhaps the day will come when Armenian women value that right. For now, though, leaving them alone is the thing we can least afford to do.