On a sunny day in Brooklyn, October 16th, 1916, the doors to the first birth control clinic in America were opened. In the pamphlet inviting them, women had been told, “DO NOT KILL, DO NOT TAKE LIFE, BUT PREVENT.” Now they lined the halls, waiting their turn to hear the information. As groups of women were ushered in, they were told that no matter how early it was performed, abortion was taking life and was wrong. Contraception was encouraged, which although being "a little trouble" was worth it because life had not yet begun. 1

Who was running this clinic? None other than the “notorious” Margaret Sanger, who would end up in jail for her activities. After the opening, rumours were spread that they were committing abortions, which scared many women away, but drew a new crowd in. When a Jewish wife and mother threatened to kill herself if she could not have an abortion, Sanger convinced her not to kill herself or her baby. 1

One of the most famous quotes by Margaret Sanger goes like this, “The most merciful thing that a family does to one of its infant members is to kill it.” 2 

It’s the first quote that comes up when you google her name. It’s used by many pro-lifers when talking about the history of planned parenthood, I have used it myself. 

About a year ago, a pro-choicer told me that I was taking the quote out of context. It was a ridiculous claim. Of course Sanger was talking about abortion! Everyone knows that she promoted abortion, especially for those with disabilities, for races she looked down on and for poor populations. I decided to start digging into her writings, as it would be the easiest way to expose her. 

It’s almost been a year since I first began my research. I’ve read many of Sanger’s books, including her autobiography, ‘Woman and the New Race’, and ‘The Pivot of Civilization’. I’ve also done searches through her entire collection of writings, and have found that my perception of her was not entirely accurate. 

Sanger is often depicted as an abortion fanatic, sometimes painted with blood running down her face and hands as she holds an aborted baby. However, over and over again in her writings, she classed abortion with infanticide and child abandonment. 3 She called it a horror 4, abhorrent practice 5, barbaric & crude 6, and a disgrace to civilization. 7 She said that permitting thousands of women each year to go through abortions is absurd cruelty 8 and that abortion is inhuman. 9 In the strongest language possible she condemned abortion. One of her chapters even begins with a poem by Amelia Josephine Burr entitled, “The Song of the Unborn’. 10 She also referred to abortion as "killing of babies in the womb" 11, and said that prenatal care was essential, as the unborn baby has "rights no less imperative". 12

In 1918, she defined abortion as anything which attempts to remove or stop further growth after the sperm meets the ovum. 13 In other words, she also would not have approved of birth control that works after fertilization. When a Russian doctor told her that they had birth control, but then explained that it was abortion, she said, “We don’t want that. Birth control is different.” 14

Sanger’s first introduction to abortion was during her training as a nurse. She worked in hospitals with poor women, who came in mangled and dying from abortions. Aside from calling out abortion for ending a life, she wrote chapters on abortion’s effects on women, the dangers to their bodies and health. This seemed to be her main focus when she wrote about abortion.

Sanger peddled birth control as a way to prevent and end abortion. She believed that laws were not enough to stop it. As long as women didn't have an education, continued having large families they couldn't afford, she believed that they would go to desperate means. She pointed to history as a witness to the fact. "Family limitation will always be practised as it is now being practised–-either by Birth Control or by abortion. We know that. The one means health and happiness–-a stronger, better race. The other means disease, suffering, death.” 15

Let’s circle back to her quote about killing an infant being the most merciful thing you can do. To be completely honest, I still don’t understand what she was saying. She wasn’t talking about abortion, that’s for sure. The chapter in which the quote is included talks about the death rate of children during their first year of life. She says that 12th born children have a 60% mortality rate, then goes on to say that those who live for more than a year very often die before they reach the age of five. Here is the full paragraph surrounding the quote.

“Many, perhaps, will think it idle to go farther in demonstrating the immorality of large families, but since there is still an abundance of proof at hand, it may be offered for the sake of those who find difficulty in adjusting old-fashioned ideas to the facts. The most merciful thing that the large family does to one of its infant members is to kill it. The same factors which create the terrible infant mortality rate, and which swell the death rate of children between the ages of one and five, operate even more extensively to lower the health rate of the surviving members. Moreover, the overcrowded homes of large families reared in poverty further contribute to this condition. Lack of medical attention is still another factor, so that the child who must struggle for health in competition with other members of a closely packed family has still great difficulties to meet after its poor constitution and malnutrition have been accounted for.” 2

I’m not sure what Sanger is getting at here. It doesn’t seem probable to me that she’s telling parents to kill their children. Was she saying that was the common belief at the time, and why infanticides and abortion were committed? Or maybe she was trying to get her point across that life for the youngest of large families was very difficult in her time, and that dying young was a more merciful end than fighting to survive for the rest of their life? I obviously disagree with that. Life was very hard for poor families during the time in which she lived, but life is worth living despite the struggles that come in it. 

The conclusion to this first installment of my Margaret Sanger series is that she did not support abortion. She was actually anti-abortion and touted birth control as the only way to end the practice. 

Of course, as history shows, birth control did not end abortions. In fact, the organization that she founded with the claim that it would end abortion, is now the primary provider of abortions in the US. Many of the arguments she used to promote birth control are now being used to promote abortion. What would she think of that? 

NOTE: I will be following up with two articles about Sanger on racism & Nazism - which has been published here, eugenics and sterilization which is published here. This is not meant to be a defense of Sanger, I do not consider her a hero or role model. I simply believe that it is important to be accurate, and want to correct myths that have been circulating about her and establish the facts about her. Like most historical figures, she is more complex than we might think.

1 – Margaret Sanger: an autobiography, Chapter 17

2 – Woman & The New Race, Chapter IX

3 – Woman & The New Race, Chapter IV

4 – Woman & The New Race, Chapter IV

5 – Woman & The New Race, Chapter IV

6 – Margaret Sanger: an autobiography, Chapter 15

7 – Woman & The New Race, Chapter XIV

8 – Woman & The New Race, Chapter XVIII

9 – Asia Discovers Birth Control,” Reader’s Digest, July 1956.

10 – The Pivot of Civilization, CHAPTER IV

11 – Woman & The New Race, Chapter XVIII

12 – The Children's Era

https://www.americanrhetoric.com/speeches/margaretsangerchildrensera.html

13 – Birth Control or Abortion?

https://www.bartleby.com/1013/10.html

14 – Margaret Sanger: an autobiography, Chapter 36

15 – Birth Control or Abortion?

https://www.bartleby.com/1013/10.html

  At the corner of a busy city street, feeling disoriented and confused, I struggled to keep from being pushed along by the crowd rushing past me. Most of the people running along the grey pavement were women, but a few couples walked hand in hand, sometimes one dragged the other forward.

  One of the women bumped into me, and I reached out to stop her and ask where everyone was going. There was a look of annoyance on her face as she glanced at me before hurrying away. A bundle was tied to her front, and as I looked around I noticed that all the women rushing down the street carried the same.

  My curiosity aroused, I followed her, the strong current of people pushing me along. Among the crowd, I could better observe the bundles. They were of varying sizes, pure white, and made of the softest fabric.

The road was now attractive russet cobblestones. Joyful music played, and on each side of the road, murals decorated the walls. Painted branches reached down, bearing fruit so realistic it seemed like I could reach out and pick it.

The crowd slowed, then came to a standstill. As far as I could see, people were standing waiting in lines. Even on my tiptoes, I could not see what we were waiting for. On one side of the street, steps were leading up the side of a building. Making my way through the crowd, I started to climb.

As I rose above the street, I saw, at the front of the crowd, a red curtain that spanned the street and fastened to the tall walls on either side. As I paused, wondering what was behind it, I noticed the women at the front of the lines were handing their bundles to workers in black uniforms.

Some women were hesitating and asking to see what was inside their bundles. The workers told them that they should not worry about the contents but rather think about the weight and how it would only grow heavier and more burdensome the longer they stalled. Being convinced, the women handed over the bundles and left.

Some women seemed to know what was in their bundle and asked the workers if they would be kind before handing them over. The workers assured them that they would be gentle.

Other women laughed as they handed over their bundles, conversing with the workers as if they were old friends. As the workers unfolded the soft cloth of each bundle I saw that each contained a small baby. Some were very tiny, others larger. I could see their hands, feet, and faces and hear their heartbeats, barely audible over the music. The workers took them and passed them through the curtain.

Then I saw one of the couples in which one had been dragging the other arrive at the curtain. The woman was screaming and begging, but the worker and man accompanying them tore the bundle from her. Other times, the scene was reversed, with the women handing over the baby and the men powerless to stop them.

The scene troubled me, and I climbed higher to see past the curtain. On the other side was a deep, dark pit with jagged rocks at the bottom. My horror grew as I realized that the babies passed through the curtains were being tossed into the chasm.

I could hear the piercing screams of an innumerable number of babies echoing from the bottom of the pit as their little bodies were crushed from the fall. I saw that among the dead, a few of the bigger ones were still moving and crying out.

 More and more babies were tossed into the pit, faster and faster. Their red blood splattered onto the dripping curtain. It was running down the road and staining the cobblestones their russet hue.

I wondered, why is there no one to help? Away in the distance, back down the street, a small group of people called out to the women, warning them of what was happening behind the curtain. Some passersby laughed at them, while others stood in front of them and called them liars. Few women stopped, but many times, those who did, joined the group in warning others.

I wondered why there were so few; and why they did not get closer to the curtain. Just then, one ran towards the group of women, pleading with them, but was dragged away and put into a cage.

Next to the wall, I saw a tall building with a golden cross crowning its steeple. The sight comforted me. Surely they would help. Some workers and women who had just left the curtain walked into the building. I climbed down and followed them.

Inside, there was a large crowd of people. They were singing songs and dancing, laughing as they did so. To my surprise, the workers joined in with them.

I saw that the church had a window overlooking the pit, but heavy drapes obscured the view. One of the people sitting in a pew went to the window and tried to pull open the drapes. Others told them to stop, as it was distracting from the service. They also motioned to the workers and women, and the person at the window sat down again, for fear of offending them.

As I was considering all I had seen, a fiery light began to glow at the front of the room. A finger appeared, writing on the wall in burning letters.

“THEIR BLOOD CRIES OUT TO ME — THEIR BLOOD WILL I REQUIRE AT YOUR HANDS.”

 Dread enveloped me. “Does nobody see?” I shouted.

 But the frenzy of the music seemed to grow, and the dance made them turn away.