Little-known fact: abortion is technically a criminal offence in England and Wales, governed by a law from 1861, before women got the right to vote.
As powerful anti-choice groups seek to roll back reproductive rights here - as we’ve seen in the US and Europe - we’ve joined forces with BPAS, the UK’s leading abortion care service, on new campaign End 1861, to decriminalise abortion in England and Wales.
Head here to take action to raise your voice for choice and fight for bodily autonomy.
It’s a breezy Tuesday morning in January, and I’m standing on the grassy knoll of a roundabout in Coleraine, Northern Ireland. In the windy vortex, as cars and lorries roar by, a line of small white crucifixes suffer.
An elderly man in a flat cap skulks past me, avoiding eye contact (and my attempts at “hello”). He picks up a few of the crucifixes at random and deposits them all into a wheelbarrow-like contraption, already piled up with placards emblazoned with Bible verses and outlines of foetuses.
“He made that himself for transporting all his bits,” says Lauren McAuley, who is standing beside me with a pram, her son inside. “End of your shift, is it, Dave*?”
No response. He extracts more crucifixes from the ground.
“He acts like he doesn’t know me,” says Lauren, “but you do know me, right, Dave?”
Silence. Dave yanks a placard from the ground. It reads: “ABORTED BABIES – REMEMBER THEM” in angry, spindly Biro. A car honks one long hoot as it speeds past, and he waves the sign – stoic, whether in solidarity or defiance.
We stand the fervent, physical frontline of reproductive rights in Northern Ireland. A country that, for decades, had some of the most restrictive reproductive rights laws in the western world, is now at the unlikely forefront of liberal abortion legislation. “Safe Access Zones” (SAZs) are upheld by law to allow people to freely and safely access abortion without threat, harassment or protest. But is it working? I came to see its reality.
A change in law
The roundabout where the SAZ limit stops is pocked with tiny indentations from the crosses, and the spectre of other anti-abortion protest ephemera looms, too – cable ties rattle against the street lamps just over the zone boundaries, where bigger, graphic banners were once erected.
For decades, abortions were only allowed in NI if a woman’s life was at risk, or there was a serious risk to her mental or physical health. In 2019, when draconian laws were still in place, more than 1,000 people travelled to Great Britain for abortion access. Generations have protested for better – 21 women dragged suitcases through the streets of Belfast in protest in 2019 to symbolise the number of pregnant people forced to leave Northern Ireland every week to access reproductive healthcare. Pro-choice activists’ homes and workplaces were raided for illegal abortion pills, and clinic escorts were assaulted and abused when limited abortion access did come to NI.
Decriminalisation was introduced by Westminster later in 2019, and in December 2022, the NI secretary of state instructed the commissioning of abortion services. The Department of Health explains to Cosmopolitan that, ‘it has allocated funding and has been overseeing the implementation of services. Abortion services are now available in all five hospital trusts in Northern Ireland, which enable the majority of demand to be met locally. Recruitment and training remain ongoing to ensure that these services are fully resourced and sustainable going forward.’
However, in practice – I’ve been told – full access has been patchy and inconsistent: there’s a lack of medical training, and funding gulfs; services have collapsed in certain districts where staff and facilities haven’t been available; politicians tasked with its roll-out have dragged their feet. Concerns have also continued to be raised in Westminster and beyond over whether full commissioning of abortion services in Northern Ireland has taken place.
The implementation of Safe Access Zones in September 2023 felt like another step towards progress – and Causeway Hospital is now one of eight abortion providers to have one. Before this, the protesters would have been found right at the hospital entrance, where signs were furiously waved in people’s faces as they entered – whether accessing abortion services or the sexual health clinic, paediatric clinic and services for people experiencing miscarriage. The possibilities for inflicting distress were boundless. These new zones protect the rights of people accessing abortion or associated reproductive health services, and they prohibit protest and certain behaviours – such as obstruction, recording and harassment – within the SAZ. Police have powers to intervene and fines for breaches top £500.
While other places around the world – including British Columbia, Canada, and Victoria, Australia – have robust SAZs, Northern Ireland has become a curious litmus test. After having some of the world’s strictest reproductive rights frameworks, it became the first UK region to legislate for SAZs. England, Scotland and Wales followed suit, with Safe Access Zones coming into force late 2024.
Cosmopolitan are also currently campaigning, alongside BPAS, to decriminilise abortion in England and Wales. As Scotland has its own legal system, abortion is still criminalised under common law. The law stipulates that two signatures from doctors are necessary to proceed with an abortion, which can delay the process – particularly poignant in Scotland as, like in NI, women can live in more remote areas. US vice-president JD Vance recently made some inaccurate attacks on the UK's Safe Access Zones. As debates take place in parliament, online and on the streets, it makes examining Northern Ireland’s reaction to SAZs – viewed overarchingly as a victory here – more salient.
Protests continue
Our Causeway excursion is Lauren’s tiny son’s first activist event. As we walk the perimeter of the SAZ, Lauren, a member of pro-choice group North Coast for Choice, points out the anti-abortion protesters she knows well, and who she believes are newer recruits. We meet Raymond, who travels 50 miles each week to picket Causeway. He once ran unsuccessfully for UKIP. Lauren tell us one woman, who stands on the other end of the SAZ with her teenage son, is believed to be the wife of a minister in the area. Some ministers, such as Ross Collins, regularly preach anti-
abortion rhetoric in sermons and the town centre. Some churches have held fundraisers for evangelical and US-linked anti-abortion groups. This woman tells me she’s there to share the ‘good news’ of her religion and save ‘the defenceless unborn’. Another proudly tells me she pickets Pride events, too.
Lauren shares dozens of photos from vigils, before and after the SAZ was implemented at Causeway. The signs show bloodied foetuses, bible quotes and misinformation that links abortion to breast cancer and infertility. There are more white crucifixes and miniature coffins laid at the hospital entrance, which also leads to the maternity ward, children’s unit and sexual health clinic. Lauren is currently collecting testimonies from the local community to make a case for extending the SAZ. Currently, SAZs are a minimum of 100m from each entrance and exit, but this can be extended up to 250m if the health trust applies for it. Lauren and a number of others want all SAZs to be set at 250m.
By the end of 2023, police were investigating up to 50 potential breaches of the laws. Causeway has the most. In November 2023, a banner comparing the Causeway clinic to a Nazi concentration camp popped up. Colette Ansell-Wood, a pro-choice campaigner, tells me that she saw the sign on social media and drove to Causeway to see it for herself.
‘I’m an armed forces veteran. I have a child with Polish ancestry. I was deeply offended.’ Colette says when she tried to untie the sign, she was pinned to the ground by two men, while a woman with them called the police and claimed Colette had assaulted them. ‘[The protesters] sat on me. One was growling at me. It was vicious,’ she says. Colette was not arrested but she was told she could be interviewed under caution at a later date. ‘It’s distressing to have this hanging over me,’ she says.
Formal warnings were later issued to protesters. ‘I believe in the right to protest but not to intimidate and assault. Especially when it’s imposed on people who are already vulnerable or distressed,’ she says.
Police shared a statement with Cosmopolitan detailing the November 2023 incident, ‘Police received a report of an offensive sign being displayed near the Causeway Hospital. An investigation was conducted and a file was subsequently sent to the Public Prosecution Service for direction.
‘A further report of common assault was received. Despite numerous attempts to contact the alleged injured party, this report has since been filed pending further evidence.’ Colette told me she had finally heard from a ‘very apologetic’ police officer who had attended that day, who told her that if no evidence was submitted by the anti-choice group before 7 May, the case would lapse.
Clare Bailey is a former Green Party Member of Legislative Assembly who brought the Private Members Bill eight years ago that ushered in SAZs in 2023. Clare sees the SAZs as a success. ‘Even before I was elected, I would have been very open that I thought we’d not see these kinds of changes in my lifetime,’ she says.
She recalls the intimidation and violence at locations such as Daisy Hill, Newry and College Street, Belfast. ‘I look back at why I wanted to introduce this legislation and the abso- lute horror that women were being forced through day to day. I remember women running into traffic to get away from protesters trying to talk to them. Women leaving the clinics in tears. [The protesters] would record people and pretend they were from the BBC or undercover police officers. I’m not sure that’s still the case.’
Clare was an escort for Marie Stopes, the first private abortion clinic in Northern Ireland, which opened in 2012 and closed in 2017 when restrictions were relaxed. ‘I was spat on, physically and verbally assaulted. There’s a night and day difference. There was a deliberate, targeted campaign of harassment against women on our streets.’ Claire emphasises that the bill was never intended to curtail freedom of expression, but to ensure safety. ‘That’s successful.’
A change in tactics
With increasing restrictions on traditionally organised and very public means of obstructing abortion, a more insidious, covert strategy brews. At Causeway, two appendages of the movement are reflected – one, the vocal, aggressive anti-choice front; the other, an invisible anti-choice network that wishes to keep hidden.
When I ask the pockets of protesters at the SAZ about their group, they say they don’t know each other, yet I’m confident they’re talking on walkie-talkies. When I ask one woman about their WhatsApp group and Facebook pages, she bristles. ‘I do this alone,’ she says. ‘This is my own calling.’ Multiple sources also tell me anti-choice campaigners have private meetings with high-ranking political figures in Causeway and across the districts. Leaders and politicians from the Democratic Unionist Party and SDLP have attended public, anti- choice demonstrations in Derry and Belfast. In a country shrouded by shame and conflict, mysterious networks are all the more disturbing
Google ‘Need an abortion Derry’ and one of the first results is Advocate Women’s Centre. The website tells you that ‘if you’re pregnant and considering making an appointment for an abortion, it’s important for you to do two things: take a pregnancy test and have an ultrasound scan.’
Below that, there’s a button to schedule an appointment for both ‘steps’ today, at no cost. Throughout, it suggests impartial advice: ‘Advocate Women’s Centre provides information on your options but does not perform abortions. We provide non-diagnostic limited ultrasounds.’
Advocate Women’s Centre has been known to use scans and waiting periods to obstruct access to care, and to delay the process until a person passes the legal limit. A recent RTE documentary captured nurses and support staff sharing religious teachings and misinformation on the abortion process. Derry pro-choice organisers confirmed to me that they have spoken with people who have had abortion care delayed and denied due to Advocate Women’s Centre’s obfuscation. The centre runs eight Google search ads, which have been viewed thousands of times and include that they would provide information on the abortion pill.
When I ask about such unregulated clinics, the Department of Health rep directs me to its communications campaign from 2022, ‘approved referral services’, such as the British Pregnancy Advisory Service, and NI Direct, which highlights approved abortion information, advice providers and referral services. ‘These are updated on an ongoing basis and explain that independent clinics do not offer abortions in NI.’ Advocate Women’s Centre does not respond to my requests for comment, only to say I have received ‘disinformation’.
These types of clinic are not new. Stanton Healthcare saw potential in Northern Ireland – the American anti-abortion healthcare provider opened its first clinic outside of the US in Belfast in 2015, three years after the legitimate Marie Stopes centre. It now has plans to open a second clinic in Derry. Its prominence on Google, with a site heavy on keyword searches, shows that obstructing abortion is now search engine optimised. When Cosmopolitan reached out to Stanton Healthcare for comment, it did not get back to us.
‘There have been positives and negatives,’ Bethany Moore of Alliance for Choice Derry says of the SAZs. Yes, the protest groups are significantly smaller but, she adds, ‘I think they’ve put their focus elsewhere – to their centres.’ Their signs in Derry at Altnagelvin Hospital, Bethany says, have become bigger and brighter billboards.
Signage and leaflets can include numbers for religious groups and crisis pregnancy centres that are easily mistaken for non-partisan support. In Belfast, anti-choice organisers have been known to actively approach women on their way into the clinic to direct them towards Stanton Healthcare, housed on the same street as the now-shuttered Marie Stopes clinic. Danielle Roberts of Alliance For Choice in Belfast shares a story of an asylum seeker in emergency accommodation who was intercepted by Stanton. ‘They strung her along,’ she says. ‘She finally got in touch with us and we helped her – but we’ve then had issues with translators refusing to translate under the guise of conscientious objection.’
Some of Northern Ireland’s abortion clinics, such as Advocate Women’s Centre Derry and Stanton Healthcare are unregulated, private enterprises. They seemingly take advantage of the knowledge gap around abortion access to spread disinformation and discourage people from accessing abortions. ‘They’re cunning,’ Bethany says. ‘It’s not always a difficult decision for someone to have an abortion. Everyone’s circumstances are different. A lot of our work now is helping people unlearn stigma that still exists here. The “othering” of abortion, when abortion should be very simply viewed as healthcare, adds to that.’
The social landscape is in flux, too – only last year were regulations brought forward to make post-primary school sex education (that includes abortion and pregnancy prevention) compulsory. And while now mandatory, the teaching of relationships and sexuality education is developed by each individual school. These lessons are often still rooted in faith-based teaching – anti-choice groups have been present at schools in the past. New regulations for more expansive education have stalled.
‘We always say you shouldn’t have to be an activist to know where to go and access an abortion,’ Bethany says. ‘For a lot of people, that isn’t the case.’ When writing this feature, I found it hard to find clear instructions for accessing abortion online in NI. It’s concerning how less knowledgeable people could get caught – I can see how easy it would be to end up in a bogus clinic, or manipulated into choices not your own.
There are calls for awareness and training campaigns for the public, as well as doctors and abortion providers. ‘There’s a culture of fear and misconception,’ Danielle says. A report by Amnesty International included testimonials from women who had been made to feel ‘disgusting’ by medical professionals for seeking an abortion. Susan* said her doctor ‘consistently ignored’ her wishes. Instead, they pushed her to have a scan and ‘healthy pregnancy and healthy baby’. She pursued an abortion elsewhere.
In a statement, the Department of Health confirmed it would publish an annual report, ‘setting out whether, in the opinion of the Department, each Safe Access Zone has been effective in protecting the safety and dignity of protected persons. In the meantime, the Department meets regularly with trust representatives and the PSNI, and has received assurances that the SAZs have been effective and appropriate to date across all trust locations.’
Back on Belfast’s streets, I search ‘abortion clinic near me’ and I’m served Stanton Healthcare (it has a four-star rating from 240 Google reviews). I walk to the heaving market area. Cornmarket is a petri dish for protest, preaching and buskers. Anti-choice group Precious Life is running its weekly stall, soliciting signatures for a petition calling for new legislation to ‘protect every unborn baby’. Belfast Council has just ended a period of public consultation on proposals for bylaws that would ban noise nuisance in the area. It would stave off the extreme religious preachers’ anti-choice rallying, but would also impact freedom of expression and the right to protest without permit. I walk to the Rose Clinic’s SAZ perimeter. A place where once 40 protesters could gather is now quiet. Only the distant hum of Bible verse carried via a loudspeaker travels from the market.
Access to abortion is still incredibly fragile and fraught. Even with SAZs, services can collapse if one healthcare provider goes on maternity leave or holiday. While access to early medical abortion is available up to 12 weeks in all trusts, surgical abortion up to 20 weeks is only available in one. But, 10 years ago, this story would be very different, and much more bleak. There’s hope now, buoyed by the pro-choice movement’s continued organising, from anti-stigma workshops to training abortion doulas for self-managed abortions.
Amnesty International found that 65% believe having an abortion shouldn’t be a crime. Anti-abortion groups remain a presence, but their ability to obstruct abortion access has been significantly reduced. Progress is being made and so their tactics are diverging. Pro-choice activists are tracking them and, as abortion rights fracture elsewhere, the rest of the world should, too.
Anna Cafolla is Cosmopolitan UK’s acting site director – managing the day-to-day running of the website, as well as overseeing video, e-commerce and social for the brand. Anna has a background in culture, fashion, and social affairs journalism – profiling Saffron Hocking, Robyn, Shygirl, and Naomi Osaka; investigating fashion archives, the Irish abortion rights movement, Generation Alpha's developing tastes, women's shelter closures and social media conspiracies in turn. Find Anna on Instagram.
