India’s Daughter & Rape Culture

[Two articles below about India’s Daughter film of 2012 rape in India]

India’s Daughter review – this film does what the politicians should be doing

By Sonia Faleiro, author of 13 Men The Guardian, March 5, 2015

gbviolprotest India’s Daughter is director Leslee Udwin’s stirring documentation of a crime that triggered what she has described as “an Arab Spring for gender equality” in India.

The December 2012 Delhi bus gang rape resulted in the death of 23-year-old medical student Jyoti Singh at the hands of six men. The men threw Singh and her male friend out of the bus before gleefully divvying up the pair’s belongings.

One rapist got a pair of shoes, another scored a jacket. There was, however, an item that Singh had left behind which the men didn’t want. So they wrapped the innards they had wrenched out of her in their frenzy of violence in a piece of cloth, and pitched it through the window. “They had no fear,” Mukesh Singh, the driver of the bus and one of four men to be convicted for Jyoti’s rape and murder, tells Udwin.

The interview with Mukesh Singh, whose death sentence is currently in appeal, is a coup for Udwin, who is the first journalist ever allowed to talk to him, or any of the men. She will likely be the last. Yesterday the authorities banned the film in India after claiming that Udwin had failed to get the requisite permissions. Shortly afterwards the parliamentary affairs minister M Venkaiah Naidu described the film as “an international conspiracy”.

Naidu’s allegation is bewildering, given that the film reveals little that is new either about the crime, or the mindset of the man convicted of it.

Journalists have reported on the rape in detail. And surely it comes as no surprise that someone who participated in a gang-rape and is now on death row will place blame just about anywhere it might stick in the hope of a reprieve – the grinding poverty that he was born into, the overbearing nature of his older brother, who is believed to have masterminded the assault, even his victim.

A whining Singh comes off as genuinely unconvinced that he should be in jail. “She should just be silent and allow the rape,” says Singh, implying that if Jyoti had only done the right thing and let the men take from her what was theirs – her body – she would still be alive today.

In fact audiences, in India at least, are unlikely to flinch at anything Udwin has to show them. If she thinks that she is holding up a mirror, she should know that Indians have been looking into it for some time now and are as eager for reform as those outside India demanding it on their behalf.

Even the statements of the two lawyers for the men, in which they describe women in terms as disparate as diamonds, food, and flowers – objects all, of course – before finally admitting that “in our culture there is no place for women” will sound familiar.

But it is the dismaying familiarity of the views expressed by Singh and his lawyers – which are now mainstream in India, echoed by everyone from politicians to high school students – that makes this essential viewing. Some will argue that the unapologetic misogyny revealed in these interviews is a skewed representation of the Indian male mindset. But it is, in fact, widespread.

Delhi protest

‘No rape’ message during a demonstration in New Delhi. Photo Mahesh Kumar/AP

 Singh’s interview also confirms that Indian jails restrain; they do not rehabilitate. It is obvious, given the views he expresses to Udwin, that were he to be released today he would walk the streets of Delhi still convinced of the lopsided inevitability of relationships between men and women: what men want, women must promptly give, even at the pain of death.

Udwin has opted for a tight focus, but some viewers may wish that she had embraced a broader view of the rape crisis in India. The country’s history of anti-rape agitation, for example.

The protests that followed the death of Jyoti Singh may have been the largest against rape, but they were certainly not the first. Earlier high-profile crimes such as the 1972 Mathura custodial rape case also led to legal reform, and laid the groundwork for the development of the protest constituency that filled Delhi’s political corridor from Rashtrapati Bhawan to India Gate that December, in what ultimately turned into a war zone of tear gas, lathi strikes, and police violence.

But Udwin, like any good field reporter, doggedly pursues this one case from start to present, unable to tear herself away even for a minute. Her intimate focus allows for a more affecting narrative.

Jyoti Singh’s parents emerge as superheroes, radiating courage and strength. Her father Badri Singh, then an airport loader, comes across as exactly the sort of modern, forward-thinking, male feminist that India would be so lucky to have many millions more of. And her mother, Asha, who says of Jyoti’s birth “we celebrated like she was a boy”, was surely the propeller that allowed her daughter’s soaring ambitions to take flight.

Udwin skilfully contrasts the light in Singh’s young life with the darkness that engulfed the lives of her rapists.

The Singhs were poor, but they cared for their children fiercely. Jyoti, their only daughter, grew up well-adjusted and focused, but also deeply empathetic. One of her friends recalls that after the police picked up a street urchin for snatching her purse, Singh, rather than berating the boy, took him aside and asked him what made him do it. Because I want what you have, he said – shoes, jeans, a hamburger. Singh, recalled her friend, promptly took the boy shopping and bought him everything on his wish list. Her only stipulation was that he not steal again.

The word “happy” repeatedly comes up in reference to Jyoti. She was happy, said Asha Singh. She had only six months of her internship left, recalled Badri Singh. “Happiness was a few steps ahead.”

In contrast, the six men who would take Singh’s life appear never to have encountered happiness. The juvenile left his home in a village in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh when he was just 11 years old and didn’t return. His mother thought him dead. The others were familiar with poverty and violence. In turn, they were violent towards others. “There is nothing good about him,” Singh says of one his co-conspirators. Of another he admits: “He was capable of anything.”

A psychiatrist in Delhi’s Tihar Jail, where Singh is lodged, tells Udwin that he knows of rapists who have committed as many as 200 rapes before they are ever caught. Two hundred rapes that they remember, that is.

Given Singh’s own statements it isn’t a stretch to say that had the men got away with raping and killing Jyoti, they would have raped and killed again. Or, that neither Singh’s mindset nor even the manner of the rape, during which an iron rod was inserted into Jyoti, was, as the court declared in its judgment, truly “the rarest of the rare”. As recently as February this year, a woman was gang-raped by nine men in Rohtak, Haryana for over three hours. The men violated her with bricks and asbestos sheets. Sticks, stones and condoms were found stuffed in her private parts.

India’s Daughter doesn’t malign India, but Naidu’s statement about a “conspiracy” does demonstrate, with an acute lack of self-awareness, what lies at the heart of the nation’s rape crisis.

Naidu isn’t implying that rape is shameful; but that talking about rape is shameful because it draws attention to the fact that it happens at all. This fear is exactly what prevents rape victims from filing police complaints, and, as a result, emboldens rapists to strike again and again. In fact, Udwin has done what India’s politicians should rightfully be doing: investigating rape cases thoroughly and discussing them openly.

While eloquently expressing his love for his daughter, Badri Singh tells Udwin: “I wish that whatever darkness there is in the world should be dispelled by this light.”

The Indian government has thwarted his wishes. By banning this documentary it has deprived the Singhs of the opportunity to share the story of their daughter widely within India. In attempting to push a conversation about rape back into the closet, it has stigmatised the subject further. It has done more damage to India’s reputation, and, far worse, the fight against rape, than any film ever could.



Why India gang-rape film row is extraordinary

By Soutik Biswas  BBC Delhi correspondent  03.05.15

A documentary by a British film-maker on the 2012 gang rape and murder of a female student in Delhi has kicked up a storm in India.

The courts have issued an injunction stopping it from being shown in India, and the home minister has promised an inquiry into the making of the documentary.

The film and the row it has generated are extraordinary for four main reasons.

Incredible access

British producer Leslee Udwin gained some of the most extraordinary and rare access that any film-maker has ever had inside an Indian prison.

She interviewed convicted rapist Mukesh Singh for 16 hours over three days. She says the crew was given permission by the jail authorities and the ministry of home affairs.

Activist Kavita Krishnan wondered how Udwin was allowed access to convicts inside jail when authorities “prevent most human rights campaigners in India from speaking to, let alone filming, prisoners”.

The hour-long film also includes extensive interviews of the victim’s parents, families of the convicts and their lawyers, interspersed with reconstruction of the incident.

Remorseless rapist

Mukesh Singh, who is facing the death penalty along with three others, expressed no remorse and blamed the victim for fighting back.

Times Now news channel promptly took the lead in whipping up a campaign against the film, which it has described as “voyeuristic” and against “all norms of journalism”.

Some media analysts believe this has more to do with the channel’s rivalry with NDTV, which had the rights to broadcast the film.

Critics of the film have variously accused it of glorifying the rapist by giving him a platform, encouraging copycat crimes, or prejudicing the appeals of the rapists and spurring demands to fast-track their executions.

Others have been outraged that Indian audiences have been “exposed to the remarks of such a brutal man” on prime-time news. Although, it has to be said, Indians are accustomed to some pretty shocking stuff on prime-time news.

Official outrage

A Delhi court has blocked the film “until further orders” after police said Mukesh Singh’s “offensive and derogatory remarks” were “creating an atmosphere of fear and tension with the possibility of public outcry and law and order situation”.

A cynical friend suggests most of this outcry and potential danger to the law and order situation is confined to the TV studios and social media.

Home Minister Rajnath Singh has promised an inquiry into how the prison authorities gave permission to the film-maker and said he was “deeply shocked” by the interview.

Some say India has sadly become a country of bans – films, books, and in a recent case, even beef.

It is not clear though whether the film’s ban was provoked by a touchy Indian government led by the image-conscious Prime Minister Narendra Modi or because the home ministry was embarrassed.

Free speech

Many believe that the ban on the film hurts India’s reputation most.

When Mr Modi is trying hard to spruce up India’s global image as a favoured destination to invest and visit, such ham-fisted and impulsive reactions cannot really help.

“It is patronising to control what people see about their own country,” an American artist said on my Twitter timeline.

“Nobody sensible is suggesting banning the film,” says writer Salil Tripathi. “That is wrong”.

But the more things change, the more they remain the same.

Senior minister Venkaiah Naidu talks about a “conspiracy to defame India” and says the “country will be harmed if Ms Udwin’s documentary is broadcast outside India”.

Many believe India’s image will be harmed because India’s government is not seen to be supportive of free speech, and not because of Mukesh Singh’s odious remarks.

Why don’t they let Indians watch the film and make up their minds about it? Why can’t the state be less paternalistic?

Battle Of Brain-Dead Pregnant Woman’s Body Transformed Her Family Into Political Activists

The Battle Over A Brain-Dead Pregnant Woman’s Body Transformed Her Family Into Political Activists

by Tara Culp-Ressler March 2, 2015   ThinkProgress


Erick Munoz, center, husband of Marlise Munoz is escorted by attorneys. AP Photo/Tim Sharp

National media may have moved on from last year’s battle over whether Marlise Muñoz, known in headlines as the “brain-dead pregnant woman,” was allowed to be released from life support in Texas last year — but her family hasn’t. In a new documentary, they’ll have a chance to talk about their journey from grieving loved ones to political activists, as well as the complex issues animating their cause.

Tentatively titled The Pregnancy Exclusion, the forthcoming documentary has been filming over the past year in the hopes of giving the family a different and more expansive kind of platform.

“After January, when Marlise had been taken off life support, it was suddenly like — poof! — the story was over. But they felt like they had been through the wringer and their story was not over,” director Rebecca Haimowitz told ThinkProgress. “It’s a story that deserved to be given more attention, and shown in a way that delves into all the complexities of the issue and really humanizes it.” Haimowitz is currently working on raising money for the film’s production costs.

It’s no wonder the story captured national attention at the time. The Muñoz family waited two months before they could bury Marlise’s body, an act of closure that was denied to them because Marlise was pregnant when she died. After she suffered a massive blood clot and was pronounced brain dead, the hospital refused to take her off the respirator — citing an obscure state law that stipulates Texas may not remove “life-sustaining treatment” from a pregnant woman, even if that goes against her end-of-life wishes. Although Marlise was legally deceased, officials wanted to keep her hooked up to machines until the fetus that she was carrying could be delivered.

The family’s saga went on for weeks, as Marlise’s husband and parents told the press how painful it was to watch her body slowly decompose as she remained breathing with the help of a ventilator. Eventually, a federal judge ruled in the Muñozes’ favor, determining that the hospital could not apply the law in this situation because Marlise was already dead. One year later, however, the controversy over the rights of pregnant women is being renewed.

Just last week, a Texas lawmaker introduced a bill in direct response to the Muñoz case that would appoint legal representation for fetuses in future disputes over whether pregnant women should remain hooked up to life support. The sponsor of that bill, Rep. Matt Krause (R), says his proposal will “give the pre-born child a chance to have a voice in court.” If the measure advances to a legislative hearing, the Muñoz family is planning to testify against it.

Marlise’s relatives are also readying legislation of their own. Before Texas’ legislative sessions ends on March 13, they’re planning to partner with a different lawmaker to announce an effort to change the current law regarding pregnant women’s end-of-life wishes.

The competing legislation could dredge up the same issues that arose over the high-profile battle for Marlise’s body. Reproductive rights proponents condemned the hospital’s actions as frightening and dehumanizing, decrying Texas for using a dead woman’s body to incubate a fetus, while anti-abortion groups lamented the fact that the federal judge didn’t fight to protect the unborn child.

But the issue doesn’t fall neatly along the traditional battle lines in the abortion rights debate. Marlise’s family members have always maintained that their quest to honor her end-of-life wishes wasn’t “about pro-life or pro-choice.” They said Marlise never wanted to be hooked up to machines, and they wanted to honor her memory — and say goodbye.

Haimowitz agrees, and says that’s why she was compelled to focus on the case. She was interested in using the documentary format to bring more nuance to the complicated questions surrounding bodily autonomy, pregnant women’s rights, and the far-reaching consequences of laws that are framed in terms of fetuses.

“I think a lot of people, when they hear about this case, they tend to think it’s a really black or white issue. But actually, one of the biggest questions this film asks is — who do you think should have the right to make this choice?” Haimowitz said. “I’ve had a lot of conversations with people about the film who start off by saying, I want you to know I’m pro-life, and I don’t believe in abortion, but I feel really strongly that the government overstepped its bounds in thinking it could make this choice for this family.”

Haimowitz is hoping to finish her project next year, and is optimistic that it might spark more conversation about the issue of gender-based discrimination in advanced directive laws. Right now, more than 30 states have a “pregnancy exclusion” in their policies governing wills, advanced directives, and end-of-life care. These laws ensure that women don’t have the same freedom to plan for their deaths as men do, because their wishes may be invalidated if they become pregnant.

“The security that people are given by being able to write wills, make out advanced health care directives, make plans for their families is very important,” Lynn Paltrow, the executive director of National Advocates for Pregnant Women, told ThinkProgress. “It’s one of many laws that really make it clear that there really is a second-class status for people who have the capacity for pregnancy.”

Paltrow’s organization closely tracks the impact of fetal harm laws on women. In addition to pregnancy exclusion laws, there are other ways that carrying a fetus makes women more vulnerable to gender-specific legal scrutiny. Overly broad “fetal protection” or “unborn victims of violence” laws allow states to prosecute pregnant women for activities that allegedly harmed their pregnancy, like using drugs or attempting suicide. In states with these laws on the books, unexpected health events like miscarriages or stillbirths can put women at risk of being charged with doing something to provoke the pregnancy loss. In 2013, Paltrow and her colleague Jeanne Flavin published a study that confirmed these laws are being used not to protect pregnant women from crimes committed against them, but rather to target those women themselves for prosecution.

Many Americans simply aren’t aware that these policies exist, according to Paltrow, and are really surprised to discover that so many states don’t have to honor a pregnant woman’s end-of-life wishes. Cases like Marlise Muñoz’s are bringing more awareness to the controversial legal precedent of discriminating against people who become pregnant, as well as providing a powerful illustration of the ways in which laws that target women can end up hurting entire families.

Haimowitz echoed that sentiment. She wasn’t aware that so many states had pregnancy exclusion laws on the books until the Muñoz case unfolded in the headlines. “The idea that the state could have that control over someone’s body, even over their dead body, was just shocking to me,” she said.

As the information becomes disseminated more widely, Americans are increasingly motivated to action; in addition to the upcoming legislation in Texas, lawmakers in Wisconsin have already proposed a bill to repeal the pregnancy exclusion in that state’s advanced directive policies. Haimowitz, who interviewed Paltrow for her forthcoming film, hopes her documentary might be an agent for that type of change.

“I think a good documentary film will really humanize a social issue in a way that few other things can,” she said. “Next year is an election year and I think people should be talking about this issue, and I think a documentary would be an excellent vehicle to get them talking about it again.”

Every Sperm Is Sacred

 There are Jews in the world, there are Buddhists,
there are Hindus and Mormons and then
there are those that follow Mohammed  -but-
I’ve never been one of them. -Monty Python

The movie “Sacred Sperm” is described as:

“A personal journey of the director Or Yashar, an orthodox religious Jew after one of the most difficult and Important prohibitions in Judaism – the “waste of Sperm” that for its violation there is almost no forgiveness or atonement. The film creates a daring first exposure on the way parents, rabbis, teachers, pedagogues and therapists within the Orthodox Hasidic Jewish Community educating their male children from infancy to adolescence, to avoid spilling their sperm.”

Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate.

“According to the Talmud, male self-pleasure is forbidden, as it wastes the seeds of potential life.”

Let the heathens spill theirs, on the dusty ground.
God shall make them pay for each sperm that can’t be found.

Let the pagans spill theirs on mountain hill and plain.
God shall strike them down for each sperm that’s spilled in vain.

Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is good,
every sperm is needed, in your neighborhood,
Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate.

Hindu, Taoist, Mormon, spill theirs just anywhere
but God loves those who treat their semen with more care.

God needs everybodies, mine, and mine, and mine.
Let the pagans spill theirs on mountain hill and plain.
God shall strike them down for each sperm that’s spilled in vain.

Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is good,
every sperm is needed, in your neighborhood,
Every sperm is sacred, every sperm is great,
If a sperm is wasted, God gets quite irate.

Full Lyrics (From Monty Python)

‘Sacred Sperm’, Religion & Taboos

‘Sacred Sperm’ Film Explores Ultra-Orthodox Jewish Taboos

AP By Tia Goldenberg  Published by the Huffington Post

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Who's the cutest of them all?

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, Who’s the cutest of them all?

JERUSALEM (AP) – Like so many parents, Ori Gruder was grappling with how to talk to his 10-year-old son about sex. Being a member of Israel’s ultra-Orthodox religious community, which tends to keep discussions of sexuality to a whisper, made the task even more difficult.

So Gruder created “Sacred Sperm,” an hour-long documentary in which he tries to tackle the hard questions he can expect from his son. The film presents an intimate, informative and at times awkward look at the insular religious community and its approach to sexuality, fleshing out deeply entrenched taboos in the conservative society.

“What is it about that little sperm that looks like a tadpole and has everyone so hot and bothered?” Gruder ponders in his narration of the film.

Gruder, a 44-year-old father of six who once worked for MTV Europe and didn’t become religious until age 30, gives the viewer a rare peek into private ultra-Orthodox lives, taking the camera into his own home, into ritual baths and circumcision ceremonies, to the religious school system and more.

"Sacred Sperm"  (AP Photo/Gliad Kavalerchik)

“Sacred Sperm” (AP Photo/Gliad Kavalerchik)

The film already has been shown in Jerusalem, London and California and is touring the U.S. festival circuit, including Atlanta on Feb. 15.

It begins with a visit to a rabbi, who grants Gruder his blessing to create the movie but implores him to do so “modestly.” Gruder’s wife expresses reservations about the project because it could elicit unwanted attention from the community.

“Maybe that’s why I should do it, because people don’t talk about it,” Gruder responds.

Under Orthodox Judaism, masturbation is forbidden, seen as a violation of an age-old covenant with God that promotes and encourages procreation. Sex is viewed as a sacred act and intercourse is permissible only after marriage.

“One who spills his seed literally kills his sons,” Prosper Malka, one rabbi interviewed in the film, tells Gruder.

Gruder explains the theological reasoning behind the Jewish ban on spilling sperm: “The reproductive organ is called the ‘covenant.’ Spilling one’s seed is called ‘damaging the covenant.’ And abstaining from masturbation is called ‘guarding the covenant.'”

While other world religions such as Roman Catholicism take a similarly dim view of masturbation and premarital sex, the film makes clear how much more ultra-rigorous the ultra-Orthodox Jews are. They live strictly regulated lives according to Jewish law that governs everything from diet to dress. Procreation is seen as a “mitzvah,” or commandment from God. For this reason, large families are common in Orthodox communities.

But talking freely and openly about sex is taboo. Many Orthodox Jews do not touch members of the opposite sex except their spouses, and the sexes are usually separated in school and prayer. Sex education is largely not taught in schools, although young brides and grooms are given counseling before they wed.

Gruder brings viewers into an education session for a soon-to-be-married young man, in which the perplexed bridegroom is told that “all positions are permitted, but our sages tend to say that the best way is for the husband to be on top of the wife.”

The film details the precautions that many ultra-Orthodox men take to prevent themselves from becoming aroused. It’s not merely a matter of averting their eyes from women.

One rabbi, longtime friend Yisrael Aharon Itzkovitz, holds up his baggy white underpants – and explains he buys them a few sizes too big, because snug-fitting undies might stimulate the wearer by accident. Many ultra-Orthodox men do not touch themselves when they urinate, Itzkovitz explains, even if that means they misfire.

Gruder describes his own journey from secular to Orthodox Jew, recounting the guilt he felt knowing that he previously had sinned. To repent, he said he has taken seemingly countless ritual baths, fasted, given to charity and rolled around naked in snow at a ski resort in northern Israel. He said that was a purifying experience.

Judaism expert Menachem Friedman said the movie, which was shot in Israel and Ukraine, offered a unique “anthropological window” into the ultra-Orthodox world. “It is about a very intimate subject which nobody talks about,” he said.
Gruder expressed hope that the film would help ultra-Orthodox Jews to become better understood by outsiders.

“It’s a first look into a keyhole that needs to be opened more,” he said.

Lawmakers Nationwide Launch Concerted Assault on Women’s Rights

Lawmakers Nationwide Launch Concerted Assault on Women’s Rights

Since the start of the year, anti-choice bills have been introduced in state legislatures across the country.

by Deirdre Fulton  Common Dreams   February 20, 2015

"As an increasing number of states pass the same type of restriction on abortion, the anti-choice community is able to declare that the policy is gaining momentum," says Tara Culp-Ressler. (Photo: Karol Olson/flickr/cc)

“As an increasing number of states pass the same type of restriction on abortion, the anti-choice community is able to declare that the policy is gaining momentum,” says Tara Culp-Ressler. (Photo: Karol Olson/flickr/cc)

An array of anti-choice legislation is being rolled out in state houses around the country, putting women’s health at risk and illustrating how Republican gains in the 2014 elections have exacerbated the fight over reproductive rights.

Already, 57 percent of American women of reproductive age live in states that are considered ‘hostile’ or ‘extremely hostile’ to abortion rights, according to the Guttmacher Institute, which studies sexual and reproductive health and rights around the world.

That percentage could go up if recent proposals are enacted into law.

In Ohio, for example, lawmakers this week introduced a bill that would ban abortions once a fetal heartbeat can be detected—as early as six weeks into a woman’s pregnancy.

In Arkansas on Tuesday, the state Senate approved legislation that would require a physician to be in the room during a chemical abortion and bans telemedicine abortion—a procedure already unavailable in Arkansas.

Just this month, Minnesota legislators have put forth five anti-choice bills, “each designed to make safe abortion less accessible in the state,” writes Nina Liss-Schultz, reporting fellow at RH Reality Check. She explains:

“Two identical bills, SF 800 and HF 607, would bar Medicaid and other public health programs in the state from covering abortion services—policies that would have an outsized impact on low-income women.

… Two other bills, SF 794 and HF 606, also identical, would require free-standing reproductive health facilities that perform ten or more abortions each month to be licensed in the same way as outpatient surgical centers, and would allow the state to inspect those facilities with no notice.

… A fifth bill, HF 734, would require a prescribing physician be physically present when abortion drugs are administered.”

The Senate Health Committee in Arizona recently passed legislation barring women from buying optional abortion coverage on insurance policies purchased through the federal marketplace.

Of such restrictions, Janet Reitman wrote for Rolling Stone earlier this year: “While cutting insurance coverage of abortion in disparate states might seem to be a separate issue from the larger assault on reproductive rights, it is in fact part of a highly coordinated and so far chillingly successful nationwide campaign, often funded by the same people who fund the Tea Party, to make it harder and harder for women to terminate unwanted pregnancies, and also to limit their access to many forms of contraception.”

In South Dakota, a conservative lawmaker is pushing graphically worded legislation targeting dilation and evacuation (D and E) procedures, which may be used in a second-trimester abortion. On Tuesday, the state’s Health and Human Services committee voted 11 to 2 along party lines to approve the bill; now it awaits debate and vote by the full South Dakota house, in which Republicans hold a wide majority.

“If D and E were to be banned, women would have only labor induction or hysterotomy (a mini-cesarean section) as options for second-trimester abortions,” David Grimes, former chief of the Abortion Surveillance Branch at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, and Carole Joffe, professor at the Bixby Center for Global Reproductive Health at the University of California, San Francisco, wrote in an op-ed published Thursday. “These archaic methods were largely abandoned decades ago in the United States.”

They continued:

“The specifics of abortion methods can be unpleasant to the lay public. However, this is true of most operations that remove tissue from the body. Surgeons choose operations based on what is safest and most appropriate for the patient, not on what is pleasant for the surgeon. The same professional standard applies to abortion.

Even if it is an effective strategy for anti-choice activists, considering these methods separately from the women who need abortion care is wrong. D and E abortion should not become a political football. D and E abortion is not a problem, any more than a mastectomy is a problem. Both are solutions to a problem.”

It’s not just Republicans who are to blame for the latest wave of attacks on women’s rights.

In the West Virginia state House, a bipartisan majority, including a majority of Democrats, passed a bill Wednesday that would ban abortions after 20 weeks of pregnancy—similar to extreme legislation withdrawn by Republicans in the U.S. House earlier this year. A similar bill was approved by the majority-Republican state House in South Carolina on the very same day.

And in a separate piece for RH Reality Check, Liss-Schultz notes that as of last week, “Maryland is the latest state dominated by Democratic majorities to see a 20-week abortion ban proposed this year.”

To be sure, such a coordinated assault on reproductive health was expected when Republicans cemented their ‘supermajority‘ in state legislatures during the 2014 midterm elections.

“[B]race yourself for 2015,” Molly Redden wrote at Mother Jones in December 2014. “Next year, Republicans will control 11 more legislative chambers than they did in 2014. Lawmakers in Texas and North Dakota are back in session, and there are no major elections to take up lawmakers’ time or cause them worry about war-on-women attacks.”

The anti-choice approach could be even more convoluted than it appears on the surface, ThinkProgress health editor Tara Culp-Ressler wrote on Thursday.

In several states, such as Arkansas, lawmakers are introducing, debating, and passing anti-abortion laws that have little practical impact on the residents there, Culp-Ressler pointed out.

“There’s…a clear political strategy at play here,” she declared. “As an increasing number of states pass the same type of restriction on abortion, the anti-choice community is able to declare that the policy is gaining momentum. More laws on the books represent an important symbolic victory. And, within the context of that goal, ineffective laws are actually some of the best tools available. They’re less likely to be overturned because they’re harder to challenge in court.”

She added: “Anti-abortion lawmakers are effectively creating a patchwork of laws that ensures U.S. women’s constitutional rights differ depending on where they live.”

What to Do When ‘I Do’ Is Done

What to Do When ‘I Do’ Is Done

LGBT activists and funders are debating the movement’s post-marriage priorities.

By Peter Montgomery  The American Prospect  February 14, 2015

Equal Rights

Equal Rights

In the year and a half since the Supreme Court struck down a key section of the federal Defense of Marriage Act, federal and state courts have been overturning laws against marriage by same-sex couples at a dizzying pace, sometimes more than once in a single day. Giddy activists have joked about the challenge of keeping color-coded marriage equality maps up-to-date. News stories about gay couples marrying in places like Oklahoma, Utah, South Carolina, and Idaho are now so common they hardly seem surprising.

With the widely shared expectation that the Supreme Court will soon return to the issue of marriage and may strike down marriage bans nationwide, LGBT leaders find themselves asking a question that would have seemed improbable just a few years ago: What should be the priorities of the LGBT movement once legal marriage equality has been achieved?

The most likely candidate for the kind of coordinated, national- and state-level strategy that fueled the marriage equality campaign is a push to get all LGBT Americans covered by laws barring discrimination against them in employment, housing, health care, and public accommodations. Brutal persecution of LGBT people around the globe, often with the collusion or encouragement of American anti-gay activists, is another growing concern. Those issues are likely to draw support from across the ideological spectrum of LGBT organizations.

Some movement strategists also want to address the effects of economic inequality and institutionalized prejudice on the lives of LGBT people. Efforts to move those issues to the center of LGBT activism, however, may run up against another current: the well-funded effort to make LGBT equality more palatable to Republicans and other conservatives.

Of course, while marriage equality is a reality in 35 states and Washington, D.C., it is not yet a done deal nationally. Lawyers are still staying up all night writing and filing briefs. Equality advocates are still sparring rhetorically, legally, and politically with anti–marriage-equality religious and political leaders who are fighting to the bitter end. And even if the Supreme Court overturns remaining bans and all 50 states turn blue on marriage equality maps, Navajo equality activist Alray Nelson wants it to be known that people living in more than 500 tribal nations will still lack marriage rights.

Still, with those cautions noted, the end does seem to be in sight, and that has LGBT funders and leaders looking ahead, considering what lessons can be drawn from the marriage equality campaign, how to keep LGBT activists and supporters engaged in the movement, and where to direct the energies and resources that have poured into campaigns for marriage equality. “I believe it’s not about pivoting from marriage,” says Freedom to Marry’s Evan Wolfson. “It’s about harnessing the marriage work and success to getting success on other fronts.”

One important accomplishment of the national conversation about marriage is that it has had a humanizing impact on how many Americans view LGBT people, couples, and families. The marriage movement has been “a powerful vehicle to express the shared humanity of LGBT people,” says Janson Wu, executive director of Gay & Lesbian Advocates & Defenders (GLAD), a Boston-based legal group that has played a key role in both the marriage equality campaign and the broader LGBT equality movement. The resulting advances in overcoming prejudice should support progress on other issues facing LGBT people. “Marriage vocabulary is powerful, connective vocabulary that helps transform people’s understanding,” says Wolfson.

Kevin Jennings, executive director of the Arcus Foundation, agrees that marriage equality campaigns encouraged a humanizing dialogue about LGBT people. The downside, he says, is that marriage has so dominated public conversation that people who aren’t intimately familiar with the LGBT community may think it is the beginning, middle, and end of what the community needs. In reality, he says, “marriage equality will affect a fraction of the LGBT community, and a fraction of a fraction of that movement’s needs.”

The Philosophical and Political Divide

What are those community needs? In October, longtime LGBT strategist Urvashi Vaid received a Spirit of Justice award from GLAD. Vaid ran through a set of issues that are barriers to full-lived equality for many LGBT people, including poverty, racism, misogyny, violence, immigration policies, policing, and detention. While organizations have been working on all those fronts, she said, the LGBT movement lacks sufficient focus on many of these issues, despite the fact that women make up half the LGBT community and people of color a third of it. “The question that confronts the LGBT movement today,” she said, “is whether we are willing to retool our movement to push for the redistribution of economic resources and political power that is needed to change the lived experience of LGBT people in all parts of our very diverse communities.”

Just a couple of weeks later, after Republican victories in the midterm elections, Gregory Angelo, executive director of the Log Cabin Republicans, posed a very different question. “This is really a time of choosing for LGBT advocates on the left,” Angelo told the Washington Blade’s Chris Johnson. “Do you support the left agenda, or do you actually support equal rights for Americans? Those who fall in the latter category are going to be the ones who are going to be com[ing] to the table with Republicans and find[ing] solutions, ways to pass things, like employment protections for LGBT individuals, that also reach consensus among Republicans.”

The philosophical and political divide reflected in these two approaches, sometimes framed as assimilation versus liberation, is as old as the LGBT movement itself. “The tension between the equality frame and the liberation frame has been present since the moment of Stonewall, if not before,” says Andrew Lane, executive director of the Johnson Family Foundation and advisory board chair of the Movement Advancement Project. In recent years, as the movement has focused on gaining access to institutions such as marriage and the military, some progressive advocates have been frustrated about the lack of attention given to less conventional goals.

Doubts about the marriage equality campaign have been somewhat muted by its successes. But some advocates fear that rhetoric used in the marriage campaign could make it harder to ensure that people in less traditional, nonmarital relationships have legal protections. Nancy Polikoff, a professor at American University’s Washington College of Law and author of Beyond (Straight and Gay) Marriage, supports marriage equality but says marriage “doesn’t solve anything for people who aren’t married, people who don’t want to get married, or people who have their lives organized around relationships that don’t resemble marriage.” She worries that some of the campaign rhetoric about the unique nature and importance of marriage could make it harder, once marriage equality is achieved, to assert the need to protect all forms of family.

Wu and Vaid both say the movement can and must do both equality and liberation work, and identity politics and progressive organizing. But time and resources are always limited, and the pre-existing fault lines within the LGBT movement may become more visible once marriage is no longer dominating the conversation.

Will Money Talk?

These fault lines could be exacerbated by another characteristic of the marriage equality movement: the emergence of major conservative funders such as hedge fund billionaire Paul Singer and activists such as former Republican National Committee chair Ken Mehlman, who helped get the Republican votes necessary to pass marriage equality legislation in New York.

Jeff Cook-McCormac, senior adviser to Singer’s American Unity Fund, says the involvement of conservative funders and activists has had “a profoundly positive impact” by changing the perception among Republicans that LGBT equality is only an issue for those aligned with the left. He says that while more than 230 Republican state legislators have stood for the freedom to marry, only a small number have lost their seats. Center-right lawmakers no longer need to see support for LGBT equality as a death knell for their career.

But that’s just one piece of the picture. LGBT journalist Michelangelo Signorile has noted that Singer “backed some of the most anti-gay politicians—and defeated others committed to full LGBT equality—by pouring millions into superPACs and the Republican Governors Association.” Signorile worries that publicity focused on Singer’s support for a handful of pro-equality Republicans may be aimed at making moderate Republicans feel better about voting for the GOP. Meanwhile, he wrote in August, “Singer is undermining LGBT rights—and all progressive causes—by helping opponents of equality win more House races and helping Republicans win control of the Senate.”

Cook-McCormac says the involvement of center-right funders and activists “has fundamentally changed the way the gay rights movement does business.” He means helping achieve bipartisan cooperation on pro-equality legislation. But others worry about the potential that donors could push the movement’s broader agenda to the right. That’s a valid fear, says Get-EQUAL’s Heather Cronk, because money always comes with strings. Urvashi Vaid says of Singer that it is “outrageous to ignore the fact that he is virulently anti-choice and raised millions to oppose the most LGBT-supportive president we have ever had.” She acknowledges that coalition politics is partly about tactical relationships and opportunistic work but is clear that she does not view these conservatives as spokespeople for her or the broader movement.

Peter Montgomery is a senior fellow at People For the American Way Foundation. 

Jon Stewart Skewers Anti Marriage Officials

Jon Stewart Skewers Right-Wing Officials for Their Astonishingly Backward Take on Gay Marriage

No, legalizing gay marriage does not mean everyone will start marrying their relatives.

By Allegra Kirkland  AlterNet   February 12, 2015

Jon Stewart screenshot (Comedy Central)

Jon Stewart screenshot (Comedy Central)

It’s only natural for prejudiced people to dig their heels in when confronted with sweeping change. Despite the fact that gay marriage is now legal in 36 states and Washington, DC, political officials and judges in solid-red states are doing anything they can to prevent LGBTQ residents from obtaining full civil rights.

In Kansas, Governor Sam Brownback issued an executive order to remove legal protections from lesbian, gay and transgender state employees, meaning they can now be harassed or fired based on their gender identity. Jon Stewart’s response: “This being Kansas, I guess Brownback clicked his heels three times and said, ‘There’s no place like homophobia.’”

Meanwhile, the Chief Justice of the Alabama Supreme Court has ordered the state’s probate judges not to grant marriage licenses to gay couples, even though a federal judge ruled the state’s gay marriage ban unconstitutional. “Huh,” Stewart said. “So an Alabama official is circumventing a federal ruling in order to restrict the civil rights of a minority population. I guess he was thinking, ‘Hey! That Selma movie was a hit.’”

Hyde Amendment Restrictions on Abortion

Move Afoot to Overturn Hyde Amendment Restrictions on Abortion

By Eleanor J. Bader, February 06, 2015  Truthout

Abortion rights protest When Illinois Congressman Henry Hyde (1924-2007) introduced a legislative measure to cut off federal Medicaid funding for abortion in 1976 – leaving it up to each state to decide whether to use locally raised revenue to pay for the procedure – he understood that by incrementally chipping away at Roe v. Wade, he and his colleagues would be able to make headway in reducing access to reproductive choice.

“I certainly would like to prevent, if I could legally, anybody having an abortion, a rich woman, a middle-class woman, or a poor woman. Unfortunately, the only vehicle available is the Medicaid bill,” he told Congress.

And so began a relentless onslaught of federal, and then state, attacks on abortion, a campaign that has led to passage of a staggering 231 restrictions since 2011 and many hundreds more since Roe was decided in 1973. This, of course, has done little to appease lawmakers who want an outright ban on legal abortion.

On the federal level, the new Republican-led 114th Congress has acted quickly, demonstrating their gumption by introducing six separate antichoice measures during the first seven days of convening. One of them – a bill to make it impossible to buy health insurance policies that cover abortion through the Affordable Care Act – passed the House on Roe’s 42nd birthday.

Similarly, bans on abortion after 20 weeks, personhood amendments, and laws to force clinics to operate like ambulatory surgery centers are among the restrictions proposed in numerous state houses throughout the South and Midwest.

Obviously, advocates of reproductive justice are facing an uphill slog, but a coalition of activists, called All* Above All, is not only taking on the Hyde Amendment, but is working to promote a positive, pro-woman agenda that places eliminating poverty and challenging racism, sexism and classism at the core of its efforts. The campaign has already generated a great deal of grassroots momentum.

Kalpana Krishnamurthy, a staff person at Forward Together, a 25-year-old Oakland, California-based reproductive justice (RJ) group, participated in a summer 2014 All* Above All bus tour that travelled more than 10,000 miles and brought hard facts about Hyde to people in 12 disparate cities.

“Some people said that they clearly remembered when Roe was announced and couldn’t believe we were still fighting this battle; others who had not been born in 1973 were shocked to learn that this type of discrimination continues to exist,” she said.

“They were stunned to learn that women who attempt to access abortions but can’t are three times more likely to fall into poverty than women who are able to get the care they need. Many people also had no idea that Medicaid restrictions have such a disproportionate impact on people of color, who tend to be poorer than Caucasians overall.”

Other facts, among them that the Hyde Amendment impacts 9 million women between the ages of 15 and 44 – 1 in 7 US females – further angered those with whom Krishnamurthy and other All* Above All volunteers spoke, and it took no coaxing to get them to write letters to their elected officials in support of overturning Hyde. “Most agreed that the government should not put up barriers to abortion access,” she reported.

Lisa Weiner-Mahfuz, vice president of program and development at the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice, [] said that RCRC joined the coalition for just this reason. “The Hyde Amendment was constructed to systematically target women of color and working-class and poor communities, she said. “To marginalize and throw these communities under the bus is sinful and horrifying. Our faith tradition calls us to do something about it.”

In addition to working with All* Above All, RCRC has developed a program called It’s Time, a congregation-based campaign to raise issues of reproductive justice within churches, synagogues, temples and mosques. In addition, by working with the largely-secular All* Above All, RCRC is attempting to serve as a “bridge” between RJ and religious organizations. Along the way, RCRC is contesting the still-prevalent idea that all people of faith oppose choice and support patriarchy.

All* Above All is a project of the Coalition for Abortion Access and Reproductive Equity, a four-year-old entity initiated by the National Network of Abortion Fund (NNAF); and the National Latina Institute for Reproductive Health. “Every effort to defeat Hyde has been built on the ones that came before it,” Stephanie Poggi, executive director of NNAF, told Truthout.

“When Hyde first passed, there was a battle to repeal it, but it lost, and in 1981, the Supreme Court upheld the ban.” A dozen years later, in 1993, she continued, the Black Women’s Health Project launched another repeal effort. “This one succeeded in getting the rape and incest exceptions inserted into the amendment,” Poggi noted, a victory that allows pregnancies resulting from these types of violations to be terminated for anyone in any state who is covered.

It was a small, but not insignificant win, Poggi added, and subsequent organizing drives in 2000 and 2006 continued to build support for overturning Hyde. Some of the impetus, she said, came from the more than 80 abortion funds that raise private money from individual donors to help low-income women pay for abortions in the 32 states (and Washington, DC) that do not provide funding for them, something that would not be needed if Medicaid coverage was available.

Poggi further credited the leadership of women of color in the reproductive justice movement for pushing the interests of the most vulnerable constituencies into the limelight. “Thanks to the leadership of those who work directly with low-income women, All* Above All is the strongest anti-Hyde effort yet,” she said.

The coalition’s strategy is multi-tiered and long range. Right now, Poggi reports, All* Above All is concentrating on building support for overturning Hyde by reaching out to young people, people of color and activists “who already see how important it is to build support for this work.”

They are also working in states where Medicaid coverage is currently available, but considered vulnerable – Minnesota, Oregon and West Virginia – and are shoring up support for its continued provision.

“We need to protect the coverage that exists and make it stronger,” Poggi explained. “We’ll then try to expand into states without coverage. It’s our job to demonstrate how central Medicaid coverage for abortion is in ensuring that low-income women have decent lives. We also need to highlight the links between reproductive freedom and economic and racial justice.”

While All* Above All is intent on spreading this message to regular folks, it also wants to bring state, city and federal legislators on board. Kate Stewart is on the coalition’s steering committee and points out that at the conclusion of the bus tour, more than 175 activists converged on Washington, DC, for Hill Education Day meetings with 95 lawmakers, several of whom committed to working to overturn the amendment, all Democratic representatives: Rep. Katherine Clark (Massachusetts); Rep. Rosa DeLauro (Connecticut); Ted Deutch (Florida); Keith Ellison (Minnesota); Eleanor Holmes Norton (Washington, DC); Mike Quigley (Illinois); and Jan Schakowsky (Illinois).

A petition to President Obama, signed by more than 80 organizations, further demanded that Medicaid funding for abortion be included in the fiscal 2016 budget.

All* Above All has effectively demonstrated that “Medicaid coverage is not the third rail of reproductive health policy,” said Jessica Gonzalez-Rojas of the National Latina Institute. Nonetheless, not all of the 60-plus coalition members are able to make its demands a number one priority.

Cherisse A. Scott, founder and CEO of SisterReach, a three-year-old Tennessee group working to promote reproductive justice, cautions that it may be impossible to make overturning Hyde a central demand in every state. “Tennessee just passed Amendment One in November,” she said. “This means that if we lose Roe at the federal level, our state legislature will immediately make abortion illegal here. Our priority right now is educating people about what just happened, because a lot of folks believe abortion is already illegal. For the foreseeable future, Hyde will have to take a back seat.”

Still, to a one, All* Above All members agree that it is high time for the reproductive justice movement to be proactive. “We’re working to engage the women of color, young women and poor women who are the most impacted by restrictions on abortion,” said steering committee member Kate Stewart. “It’s a multifaceted campaign that takes a bold, positive, vocal and visible stand to lift coverage bans.”

Despite obvious challenges, she is heartened by the on-the-ground support All* Above All has received from people across the country.

That said, Jessica Gonzalez-Rojas of the Latina Institute concedes that the stakes remain extremely high, and she urges supporters to keep the focus on the ways the amendment impacts individuals and families.

“We should never forget Rosie Jimenez,” she concluded, “or her tragic legacy.” Jimenez was a 27-year-old Latina single mother and college student who is the first known victim of the Hyde Amendment. Her life was lost to septic shock following an illegal abortion two months after the amendment took effect. Although Jimenez had a Medicaid card, she lived in Texas, a state that does not provide the coverage she needed to terminate an ill-timed and unwanted pregnancy.

Eleanor J. Bader teaches English at Kingsborough Community College in Brooklyn, NY. She is a 2015 winner of a Project Censored award for “outstanding investigative journalism” and a 2006 Independent Press Association award winner. The coauthor of Targets of Hatred: Anti-Abortion Terrorism, she presently contributes to Lilith,, and other progressive feminist blogs and print publications. 

Buddhist Feminist Art

Feminism Awakens In Himalayan Buddhist Art and Meditation

 “She has acquired the reputation and recognition of delivering hard financial and concrete results in a career devoted to the advancement of young women.”

Tara Sculpture

Tara Sculpture

“Our temple is at the heart of the Dongyu Gatsal Ling Nunnery  Since this is a Nunnery, the inner decoration of the temple reflects female embodiments of Enlightenment – Tara, Vajrayogini and so on – and this is especially emphasized in the exquisite murals around the walls and the rounded stained glass windows. There are walls dedicated to senior nun saints surrounding Shakyamuni Buddha and Mahaprajapati who was the Buddha’s stepmother and the first nun. These are rarely portrayed in Buddhist art. Also there is the great yogin Milarepa surrounded by his female disciples. When people enter they immediately feel a sense of peace together with gentle but powerful feminine energy: they feel awed and uplifted.”

By G. Roger Denson  Huffington Post [Excerpts below]

In mid-January the British-born Buddhist nun, Jetsunma Tenzin Palmo — the closest thing we have to a Thomas Merton figure today — spoke before a sold-out audience at the Rubin Museum of Himalayan Arts in Manhattan. The nun of 50 years is known not only for having spent twenty years of her life meditating in a cave, but for her founding of the Dongyu Gatsal Ling Nunnery for young Buddhist nuns in the Kangra Valley of the Indian state Himachal Pradesh, a two-hour drive from the Tibetan exile community of Dharamsala. Accompanying her and providing locutory support was the art historian and former Rubin Museum curator, Kathryn Selig Brown. The topic was Jetsunma’s approach to visualization in meditation and the overall place of art in its embodiment and enhancement of dharma.

In Himalayan sacred art, erotism, like all other visualizations, activates the mind’s eye — the eye of inward perception — to transform our external perception of our own presumed singular and disparate realities into bridges to endless other individualities that together build the continuity that binds us as a whole.

M. Gotami

M Gotami


2 White Taras

Two White Taras

But discussions of magical and metaphysical surrealism, or the art of spectacle and erotism are not what concerns the impressively serene and pragmatic Jetsunma, as she is called by everyone to her apparent satisfaction. Even when discussing a topic like visualization, she remains focused on the liberation attained in the process, not the abstract or structural, the psychological or the mystical methods and effects. Her priorities are rooted in the social implications of Buddhism, which is attested to by her early development and chosen life focus. It was at the age of 20 in 1964 that she became one of the first Westerners to be ordained as a Buddhist nun. Thanks to at least two biographies written about her since, she has acquired the reputation and recognition of delivering hard financial and concrete results in a career devoted to the advancement of young women. Hers is the kind of character that proved itself capable of navigating through all the cultural, ideological and political differences that obscure right living, or at least the pathways to right living that manage to run through the bureaucracy and prejudice that characterize life in the northern border region of Himachal Pradesh, India.

Perhaps we all should have expected an espousal of feminism to come from Jetsunma. After all, she became a Buddhist nun just when her native England and the West as a whole was undergoing a radical feminization of society. Why shouldn’t feminism now be brought to fruition among Buddhists, who at least in their contemporary incarnations count among the most civilized and proto-democratic peoples the world has known. (Although this wasn’t always the case.) Of course, it should be no less remarkable to witness feminism manifest in what may be the world’s only Himalayan Buddhist monastery devoted to visualizing predominantly female deities, yoginis, and bodhisattvadevi, than it is in the art world, where galleries such a Gagosian still are resistant to some of the most significant developments in contemporary art because they are made by women, or because they will earn less. Of course, there is the nature of the entities that Jetsunma commissions for her art that ordinarily belie feminism and activism. Not only are they entirely archaic in origin and originally designed to placate the patriarchal sensibility written into and legislated by Buddhist social structures.

Abortion Lethal For Many Women

Abortion in Brazil: a matter of life and death

The day after Jandyra went for an abortion her body was found mutilated beyond recognition. Donna Bowater reports on the plight of millions of women who put their lives in the hands of gangs running dangerous clinics

By Donna Bowater  The Guardian February 1, 2015

Jandyra Magdalena who died from an illegal abortion

‘They don’t have consciences – they are monsters. These clinics are not thinking about the wellbeing of the woman’: Joyce Magdalena after the death of her sister Jandyra, above. Photograph courtesy of Jandyra’s family

Born five years apart, sisters Joyce and Jandyra Magdalena dos Santos Cruz lived together in a simple low-rise in Guaratiba, a poor neighbourhood of Rio de Janeiro, with Joyce’s four children, Jandyra’s two daughters, and their mother, Marie Ângela. Like many Brazilian families, their lives were inextricably meshed by economies of scale.

It was the honey-coloured eyes they also shared that Joyce Magdalena recognised last August, when Jandyra was found inside a burnt-out car. She had been mutilated, dismembered and charred beyond identification. She had climbed into the same car a day earlier, at a bus station in the nearby town of Campo Grande, to be taken for an illegal abortion.

“The press said they cut off her hands,” says Joyce. “It wasn’t just her hands. They took off her arms, legs, teeth. A woman so beautiful. OK, she committed a crime, but she was committing a crime against herself, against her own life. It didn’t hurt anyone.”

Were it not for the brutality of the case, Jandyra might have become just another statistic: another woman having one of the estimated one million abortions carried out every year in Brazil, where it is punishable by up to three years in prison. Even her death would have been unlikely to raise more than a passing mention. It is claimed that every two days a Brazilian woman dies while trying to end a pregnancy, and there are 200,000 hospital admissions a year as a result of bungled procedures. But Jandyra’s fate shone a light on the cruel, illegal trade in women’s desperation. It stirred women’s rights groups and activists, giving a high-profile face to their controversial cause: “How many more Jandyras?” and “We are all Jandyra” were the straplines on the protest posters in Copacabana last September.

According to the police investigation, she was the victim of a criminal gang running an “abortion business”. Along with two other women, Jandyra, aged 27, was met by the gang’s driver at the bus station so as to hide the makeshift clinic’s address, and driven to a rented home in a private condominium. The alleged gang ringleader, Rosemere Aparecida Ferreira, reportedly admitted to police that Jandyra had paid R$4,500 (£1,100) for the termination carried out by an unlicensed doctor, Carlos Augusto Graça de Oliveira, but said she had not been there at the time. Ferreira claimed she was later called by the driver to say only that there had been “a problem”.

It is suspected that Jandyra suffered fatal complications during the abortion, with prosecutors alleging the gang then disfigured her body to protect themselves by preventing her from being identified. Her limbs, fingers and dental arch were removed, and her body set alight. “I couldn’t do this to a dog, a cat, a parrot,” says Joyce. “They don’t have consciences – they are monsters. These clinics are not thinking about the wellbeing of the woman. They’re thinking about money.

While Jandyra’s death shocked Brazil, the death of a housewife in another botched abortion in Rio just a month later thrust the law into the spotlight immediately before October’s general election. Elizângela Barbosa, 32, died after a plastic tube was left in her uterus. She had been in a similar situation: she had three children and could not afford a fourth. “I don’t think she would have had so much courage, but she was really tormented about this,” says her sister Sandra Barbosa, still in shock. Sandra is now bringing up Elizângela’s seven-year-old daughter and one-year-old son, while her four-year-old boy stays with his father. Police arrested a woman called Ligia Maria Silva, who reportedly started performing clandestine abortions 20 years ago after carrying out her own.

“It’s totally illegal, so the women have abortions in the worst conditions,” says Dr Marcelo Burlá, president of the Gynaecology and Obstetrics Society of Rio de Janeiro state. “We have a lot of bad problems, like hysterectomies, like bleeding, like women not able to be pregnant again. All because we have a legal condition that doesn’t support the women who don’t want to have a baby.”

The right to choose: a pro-abortion march in São Paulo. Photo by Tiago Mazza Chiaravalloti/NurPhoto

The right to choose: a pro-abortion march in São Paulo. Photograph: Tiago Mazza Chiaravalloti/Rex

There are only a handful of exemptions to the ban on abortion – to save the mother’s life, if the pregnancy was a result of rape, or, in a recent controversial addition, if the foetus has anencephaly, a rare birth defect in which the brain and skull do not develop. By October, police in Rio had made 61 arrests as part of the 15-month-long Operation Herod, which investigated an illegal abortion set-up charging up to £1,800 per procedure. The gang allegedly carried out up to 20 abortions a day. In 2013 there were only 1,520 “legal” terminations carried out by the public health service.

In an otherwise sparse living room in Guaratiba, under an unforgiving bare light, there’s a little plastic Christmas tree sitting beside the TV. It is mid-November, three months after Jandyra’s death, and the festive season has been brought forward to give her motherless daughters, who are just eight and 11, some hope of happiness.

“We tried to convince Jandyra not to do it,” Joyce says. “But she thought she had no other option. In that moment of despair, she took this difficult decision.” Like many, Jandyra opposed abortion, but was faced with raising another child unwanted and unsupported by its father. “I think there should be a law that says after two children, we’ll tie the tubes. Two children is sufficient,” Joyce adds.

After her last pregnancy, Jandyra had wanted to have tubal ligation but, at 18, was told she was too young. Elective sterilisation is available on Brazil’s public health system for women over 25 or with at least two children, and with their husband’s consent. Joyce says there is a need for greater use of contraception in such a sexualised culture. “Women feel alone because the men in Brazil disappear,” Joyce tells me. “It’s a culture where women and men have various relationships; it’s a normal thing to have sex. But then men abandon women.” In a country where the minimum wage is £180 a month and where more than 11 million people live in favelas, each child can be too great a financial burden.

“It used to be that you finished school and you got a job,” Joyce says. “Now you don’t get anything. Imagine me, with four children – it’s going to be much harder than for someone who has two or one. I know it involves questions of religion. I’m evangelical; it’s very controversial. But my religion doesn’t have any problem with vasectomies, with tying tubes. I think we need a more rigorous law to protect women from desperate situations.”

Though definitive statistics are almost impossible to obtain, according to a pioneering field study, the 2010 National Abortion Survey, one in five Brazilian women have had at least one abortion by the age of 40 (in Britain the figure is one in three). Conservative estimates suggest 800,000 clandestine abortions are carried out a year, while pro-choice campaigners cite one million. “Women are afraid of telling us the truth,” says Debora Diniz, one of the authors of the study. “We have concrete reasons to believe that the number is even higher because women have reasons not to tell the truth, even using a secret ballot box.”

In Rio the scale of the organisation running clandestine clinics became clear during the police operation. Among those arrested were six doctors, two lawyers and several police officers. They were said to have co- ordinated illegal abortion centres in several neighbourhoods. The alleged gang leader, 88-year-old Aloísio Soares Guimarães, was reportedly found with statements for $5m in a Swiss bank account. Glaudiston Lessa, a police officer, told O Globo that the gang had carried out an abortion on a girl as young as 13.

When I meet Luciana Lopes, Rio’s co-ordinator for Brazil Without Abortion, a pro-life movement, the first thing I see is the stirrups of her new examination table. Also a gynaecologist, Luciana is setting up her surgery in the north of the city. She firmly rejects the estimated abortion rates. “If it’s clandestine, there’s no official information,” she says. “But even among the woman who do have abortions, many are not in favour. It’s not just about whether it’s legal or not – it’s a question of the woman living with committing murder. It’s a life that she is taking.”

I ask if she knows any women who have had abortions. “Many,” she says, nodding, but she adds that women are not criminalised for it. “We know that abortion carries risks to the life of the woman – illegal abortion as much as legal abortion,” she says, adding that the movement would like to see the legal exemptions removed and abortion completely criminalised. “Even if she is pregnant and doesn’t want the baby at all, doesn’t recognise the baby, the other line that we take is adoption. She doesn’t need to kill, doesn’t need to put her life at risk.”

Recent research suggests that 65% of Brazilians support the current restrictions on terminations. In the world’s biggest Catholic country, it is small wonder. But Brazil’s relationship with religion and abortion is more nuanced. In the 2010 abortion survey, faith appeared to play little part: most women who had abortions said they were also Catholic. Yet religious conservatism meant that despite two high-profile cases, abortion was hardly discussed during last year’s presidential election.

“Brazil is a country formed under the sign of the cross. Everything good and not so good that happened had the strong presence of the Catholic church,” says Eduardo Jorge, the Green Party presidential candidate who supports the legalisation of abortion. He says there is no explicit condemnation of abortion in the Bible. “We need more liberal and enlightened political leaders to talk to the people about their reasons. Only with dialogue and debate will it be possible to change the current law, which is retrograde and sexist, causing death and suffering to women and their families.” When I ask how long it might take to change the current legal situation, Jorge replies: “God only knows.”

Though there appears to be little link to religion, abortion is more common among women with low levels of education. Diniz says it’s not clear why, but one likely explanation is that they are using contraception methods incorrectly. “Abortion and the risks of illegality are basically a problem for the poor and black women of Brazil,” Diniz says.

Micheline Alves, 40, a journalist for a women’s magazine and a mother of two, has a very different abortion story. She lives in a chic boho neighbourhood in São Paulo, a world away from Guaratiba, Rio. At six weeks pregnant, she found a trusted doctor known among her circle of friends who would carry out abortions from his clinic in a hospital. Because of the early stage of her pregnancy, she paid £870. “The crazy thing for me in Brazil is that a middle-class person in a big metropolis like this can easily find a doctor who will do a safe abortion,” Micheline says.

For her, the decision was straightforward, made easier by access to a reputable medical professional. “The fact that I was already a mother made it all the more clear,” she says. “I have an idea of how much a child changes your life, and I was sure – without talking with my partner, before I told anyone – that it wasn’t time.”

On the day that Micheline went for her consultation, the names of 20 other women were tacked to the doctor’s wall, each one paying close to or just over £1,000 for the procedure. “This consultation was difficult, despite my conviction,” she says. “Firstly because it was clandestine. Also, however secure you are with your decision, the moment you meet with a doctor can feel strange. But in the end the process was very simple.”

Her misgivings centre on the inequalities of a clandestine business. She says her realisation that she was one of the “hidden” women prompted her to write about her experience.

“The doctor created a system that resolved a problem that Brazil is refusing to resolve,” she says. “It’s crazy because on the other hand, he also does it because it pays. But he’s a good doctor, does it correctly. He’s running a high risk. Abortions are being carried out in Brazil – it’s just that they are being carried out in very unequal conditions. In all these cases, the questions stay in the shadows, in the dark. You can’t have clear measures. You can’t leave all these people underground.”

Whatever the real number of women aborting pregnancies, the law that makes it a crime is not protecting them. With such a tangle of religious and moral opposition, change seems a long way off.

Meanwhile, in the absence of justice or answers, Jandyra’s family turn to their only comfort. “We have faith in God,” Joyce says. “Jandyra could be another statistic, but she’s not. She’s an icon of respecting other opinions, because we are against it, others are in favour, and we have to have a debate.”

When Joyce considers what she might ask those responsible, she says: “I want to know what really happened, whether she woke up or if she was totally anaesthetised when she died. They can do what they want with her body – flesh is flesh. But I want to know if she felt pain. It’s an answer we deserve.”