The first law on the termination of pregnancy was passed in Spain 40 years ago. Nevertheless, thousands of Spanish women still had to go to the UK for abortions
A women’s bookshop became much more than that: a back room where people talked quietly; where money was raised to pay for plane tickets; meetings with strangers who lent spare rooms for a couple of nights; alibis for disappearing from the family home for the first time. This story takes place between Malaga and London. It recreates the events of the 1980s, to commemorate 40 years since the passing of the first abortion law of Spain’s restored democracy.
The first approval established that abortion would not be “punishable” in any of the following circumstances: it was necessary to avoid a serious danger to the pregnant woman’s life or physical or mental health, and that this was stated in an opinion issued by a doctor other than the one who was to perform the abortion; if the pregnancy was the result of rape; or if it was presumed that the foetus would be born “with serious physical or mental disabilities”.
The law was a step in the right direction, but it still subjected women to severe scrutiny. Feminists in Malaga who fought for free abortion held a “popular trial” against the 1985 law: “It was not at all satisfactory. It was better than nothing, but we didn’t want a makeshift solution.”
“We didn’t like that women needed to say that the pregnancy affected them psychologically, for example. The process was an ordeal,” explain Carmen Martín and Carmen Pérez Pinto, feminist activists historically and currently.
It took no less than 25 years for the law on sexual and reproductive health and the voluntary termination of pregnancy to be passed in 2010. The updated law states that fourteen weeks is a “reasonable” period for women to make a “free and informed” decision about their pregnancy. After various ups and downs, feminists remain dissatisfied: the right to abortion is still not guaranteed; it has not been integrated into the health system as a service. The 2014 proposal for (counter)reform, to return to the initial scheme, failed and cost the former minister of justice, Alberto Ruiz-Gallardón, his political career. The new regulation of 2023 extended guaranteed rights for women, but “There are gaps” — in some provinces the public health system does not provide abortions.
However, this environment is not like it was four decades ago, when there was no law. At the beginning of the 1980s, the Librería de Mujeres (Women’s Bookshop) was established in Malaga. It was a place dedicated to feminist literature, where women could share experiences and ask for information on sexuality or family planning. But it was also a place where young women who needed an abortion could go: the people who ran the bookshop had contacts with women in London who acted as a support group for Spanish and Irish women who could not terminate their pregnancies in their own countries because it was either illegal or too difficult there.
Discretion in the back room
“When a woman started walking around the shop and browsing through books until it was empty, we knew what she was looking for, we knew she had found out that she could find help there.” Almost no words were needed. When we were alone, we would take her to the back room. She took it for granted that no one would find out, that she could talk there in confidence. Some of them came with their mothers, but most of them arrived alone,” says Carmen Pérez Pinto, who was part of the women’s bookshop in the 80s. It was the women with the least resources and education who passed through these premises in Calle San Agustín; those who had the means did not need this support network. The bookshop also collected money to pay for trips to London and cover clinic bills.
“We didn’t judge or ask for explanations. We just asked the woman how far along she was and from there, we tried to be quick. We would help her find an alibi: ‘Tell your mother that you are going away for three days with a friend.’ Although, of course, there were times when it wasn’t easy, because the young woman had never left her house before,” explains Pérez Pinto with Carmen Martín, a historical feminist from Malaga.
Isabel Ros talks to SUR from London. She says that between the late 70s and early 80s Our Bodies, Our Lives, a reference book on women’s health and sexuality by the Boston Women’s Collective, was translated into Spanish. In the copy was the phone number of Release, a human rights organisation she worked for, to call if anyone needed to terminate their pregnancy. So many calls came in that Release had to set up a specific team to deal with them. And a group of volunteers was already operating in the UK to help Irish women because it was illegal to have an abortion in their country, alongside a support group for Spanish women, SWASG (Spanish Women’s Abortion Support Group) – founded at the same time.
Feminist magazines published this information: “In Spain there is still no free abortion. If you have problems and need direction, here’s one: London. We are a group of Spanish and non-Spanish women living in London. The group was formed in March 1981 with the aim of giving some support to women from Spain who come to London to have an abortion.”
Isabel Ros
More than 40 years ago it was not so easy to make calls abroad. There were no mobile phones and not everyone had a telephone, and calling another country was difficult. But, overcoming those difficulties, there were many women who went to the UK for abortions with the support of Release and SWASG.
It actually happened quite quickly because the clinic could be arranged on the phone. “The clinics are so busy that it takes at least a week to organise the abortion,” the organisation warned in its advertisement urging people to get in touch as soon as possible.
“We will ask you when was the first day of your last period and inform you about the current price of the operation. In addition to that money, you will need an extra £30 for the tube, buses, food, etc. It is very difficult to get late abortions and there is only one clinic in the whole of London that does them, and only up to 26 weeks [now only 23 weeks/6 days]. It is therefore very important that you call us as soon as possible. The earlier the better, as clinics prefer not to do the operation after seven weeks of pregnancy,” the advice continues. “We can’t give financial support because the group doesn’t have any money,” the leaflets said. But as in Malaga, Ros said that in London, donations were also made on occasion.
In London, there were not only volunteers who took turns answering the phones and arranging appointments with clinics. They were also willing to go to the airport to pick them up, give them accommodation, take them to the hospital, pick them up when they were discharged and drive them back to the airport. They probably did not know English and the volunteers had to act as interpreters. The core of the organisation was made up of around ten women, but in total the network had around 30, and not only Spanish women, but from all regions of the UK.
As Ros remembers, the group was formed around helpless Spanish women, to avoid the abuse they were sometimes subjected to when they went on their own. But also because, in order to face an abortion, they needed human support: understanding; empathy; and security. Ros stressed that their work included monitoring the clinics so that they would do their job properly, to ensure the women’s safety. Their activism also reached institutions, where they reported on the situation in Spain and the country’s need for a law recognising the right to unrestricted, safe and free abortion.
“It is not a decision that’s taken lightly”
Those Spanish girls who boarded a plane and left Spain for the first time in their lives had no choice but to trust the generous strangers waiting for them on the tarmac. The trip lasted four days: British law required you to be in the country at least the day before the operation and you had to spend a day in hospital. The process was something like this: on the first day you had a consultation with the doctor, the next morning you were admitted to the clinic and 24 hours later you were discharged.
…In 1978, 30,000 non-resident women were having abortions in the UK, almost half of them (14,000) were Spanish. In 1979, the number of Spaniards exceeded 16,400, and in 1982, 22,000.
Abortion clinics were opening in Malaga around 1984. … if the women could not pay, they did not have to. The clinics and their doctors were activists and risked their freedom for the cause…. Three doctors spent 40 days in prison and were released after posting bail of 10.5 million pesetas because in November 1986 the police raided their health centre in the Scala 2000 building on Calle Hilera and arrested 30 people: doctors, medical students, several nurses and more than 20 women who were there to terminate their pregnancies…
Feminists in Malaga called for protests in solidarity with the doctors and the women – who were bailed out – and to demand the right to abortion. There were calls for 741 years in prison for the defendants. But one of the doctors declared: “Neither three months nor three years in prison can break a person who knows what they are doing and what they want and who they are fighting against.” After more than ten years of court processes, they were all acquitted, but only because the statute of limitations had run out on the alleged crimes.
The doctors were gambling their freedom. The women, their lives. The network formed between Spain and the UK was revived in 2014, when minister Alberto Ruiz-Gallardón tried to curtail the right to abortion. “SWASG 2.0 was born,” explains Ros, with demonstrations in London in solidarity with Spanish women…
“Feminism has never considered abortion as a method of contraception. We emphasised the fight for the right to abortion because women were dying: without it being legal, abortions were still happening, anywhere and in any way. Moreover, the appropriation of our bodies was an indisputable feminist premise. But at the same time, our aim was to provide better sex education. If there was a woman who passed by the bookshop more than once, we read her the leaflet,” says Martín.
SOURCE: SURinEnglish, by Cristina Vallejo, 2 June 2025.