Named for the location of the 1984 U.N. population conference that formulated the policy, it stated: "Governments are urged ... to take appropriate steps to help women avoid abortion, which in no case should be promoted as a method of family planning, and whenever possible, provide for the humane treatment and counseling of women who have had recourse to abortion."
The policy presented overseas health organizations with a choice: They could accept federal American cash and discourage abortion or they could refuse the needed funds and do as they wished. That's surely far from draconian. NGOs that opted out of the Yankee bucks were still free to solicit donations from sympathetic private citizens and institutions. And, contrary to a lot of what I've been reading in the press lately, the policy had little to do with abstinence education, and certainly nothing to do with jailing or hurting women.
In short, the debate over the Mexico City Policy doesn't have to be a zero-sum affair. As Republican Chris Smith, the most ardent anti-abortion advocate in Congress, put it shortly after Obama issued an executive order overturning the policy: "The Mexico City Policy represents common ground." In fact, Democrat Bart Stupak joined Smith in an attempt to reinstate the policy.
But in order to make real progress, honesty must be introduced to the debate, after a long absence from the proceedings. Take the case of Min Min Lama. In 1997, a relative raped this 14-year-old Nepalese girl. She became pregnant and was unknowingly given an abortion drug by a family member. When the expelled fetus was found dead, she was sentenced to 12 years in jail, as abortion was still illegal in Nepal at that time.