Reproductive rights in Europe have long been considered a benchmark for progress and gender equality, but this status is now under threat. The rise of far-right movements, the influence of religious institutions, and the resurgence of nationalist ideologies are reshaping policies in ways that restrict women’s autonomy. The debate over abortion and contraception is not just about healthcare—it is a battle over power, control, and who gets to make decisions about women’s bodies.

The fight for reproductive rights in Europe has been long and bitter. In the early 20th century, most European nations strictly criminalised abortion and had little to no access to contraception. Women were expected to fulfil traditional roles as mothers and caretakers, with little control over their own fertility. One of the earliest major legal breakthroughs came in the Soviet Union, which legalised abortion in 1920, only to restrict it again under Stalin in 1936 before reinstating it in 1955. Western Europe, however, remained largely restrictive until the 1970s, when second-wave feminism pushed reproductive rights to the forefront of political discourse. France, under President Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, passed the Veil Law in 1975, named after then-Health Minister Simone Veil, a Holocaust survivor and women’s rights advocate. This law legalised abortion up to ten weeks and was a turning point for European reproductive rights. Around the same time, Sweden, Denmark, and the Netherlands also liberalised their abortion laws, recognising women’s autonomy as fundamental to gender equality.

But the fight has never been easy. In Ireland, abortion was constitutionally banned until 2018, when a referendum finally overturned the prohibition after decades of activism and tragic cases of women dying due to pregnancy complications. In Spain, women under Franco’s dictatorship were denied access to contraception and had no say over their reproductive choices. Even after his death, legal abortion was only introduced in 1985 after years of relentless campaigning. Despite these hard-fought victories, history is now threatening to repeat itself as far-right and conservative movements seek to roll back these rights.

Across Europe, far-right parties are gaining ground, often leveraging nationalist, religious, and traditionalist rhetoric to oppose reproductive rights. These movements are not limited to one country—they are part of a broader trend affecting multiple European nations. In Italy, Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, leader of the far-right Brothers of Italy party, presents herself as a defender of “traditional family values.” Although she has not outright banned abortion, her government has made it harder to access by allowing anti-abortion groups to operate inside hospitals and placing obstacles in the path of women seeking terminations. Meloni’s party frames abortion as a symptom of societal decay, pushing instead for financial incentives to encourage women to have more children.

In Hungary, Viktor Orbán’s government has introduced pro-natalist policies while restricting access to abortion services. The state has promoted conservative family values, discouraging women from terminating pregnancies and instead offering cash incentives for having more children. Orbán’s administration has also imposed waiting periods and mandatory counselling to discourage abortion, even though it remains technically legal. In Poland, the situation is even more extreme. The conservative Law and Justice Party (PiS) systematically dismantled abortion rights, culminating in a 2020 court ruling that effectively banned nearly all terminations, even in cases of severe fetal abnormalities. This has had disastrous consequences—women have died from being denied care, and those who can afford it are forced to seek abortions abroad. The decision sparked the largest protests in Poland since the fall of communism, but the government remained steadfast in its position, showing the power of religious influence in shaping policy.

Even in traditionally progressive countries like Sweden and France, far-right movements are gaining traction. Marine Le Pen’s National Rally in France has subtly distanced itself from overt attacks on reproductive rights, but its broader ideology remains a threat. Many far-right parties avoid directly challenging abortion laws, knowing that outright bans would be unpopular. Instead, they focus on gradually restricting access, making it harder for women—particularly those in vulnerable situations—to exercise their rights.

While abortion is the most visible battleground, access to contraception is also under threat. Budget cuts to sexual health services in the UK, for example, have made it harder for women to access birth control, particularly long-acting methods such as IUDs. In Italy, contraception is still not universally covered by the national health system, creating disparities in access based on income. In countries with strong religious influences, such as Poland and Hungary, there have been increasing efforts to limit sex education, making contraception harder to obtain and leading to higher rates of unplanned pregnancies. The attack on contraception is part of a broader effort to redefine gender roles—to push women back into traditional, family-centric positions where their primary role is motherhood. This strategy is particularly evident in nationalist rhetoric that frames declining birth rates as a crisis and blames reproductive freedoms for lower fertility rates.

Restricting access to abortion and contraception does not stop women from seeking these services; it simply pushes them into dangerous situations. Studies have repeatedly shown that countries with strict abortion laws have higher rates of unsafe terminations, leading to increased maternal mortality and long-term health complications. From an economic perspective, restricting reproductive rights burdens healthcare systems. Unplanned pregnancies increase the demand for maternal healthcare, neonatal care, and social support services. In countries with weaker social safety nets, this places additional strain on public resources. Moreover, women’s ability to control their reproductive health is directly linked to their economic independence. Countries that restrict access to abortion and contraception see higher rates of poverty among women, lower workforce participation, and reduced educational attainment. Reproductive rights are not just about personal autonomy—they are about economic and social stability.

France’s recent decision to enshrine abortion rights in its constitution is a model that other European nations should consider to safeguard against future political shifts. Governments must ensure that access to contraception and abortion is free, accessible, and protected from ideological interference. This means funding sexual health clinics, improving education, and reducing waiting times for services. The EU and global organisations should take a stronger stance against nations rolling back reproductive rights. Just as the EU takes action against threats to democracy, it should treat reproductive rights as a fundamental issue of human rights. The victories in Ireland and Spain were the result of decades of activism. Women and allies across Europe must continue organising, raising awareness, and challenging restrictive policies through protests, legal action, and advocacy.

The fight for reproductive rights is far from over. Women across Europe have fought too hard to allow these freedoms to be stripped away. The challenge now is ensuring that history does not repeat itself—that the hard-won gains of the past century are not quietly dismantled by rising authoritarianism and conservative backlash. The right to choose is not just about healthcare—it is about dignity, autonomy, and the fundamental belief that women should control their own destinies.c