Nadine Dorries is not Michele Bachmann

For anyone not familiar with the contours of the latest debate on abortion, MPs Nadine Dorries and Frank Field have proposed an amendment to the Health and Social Care Bill which would have the effect of preventing the British Pregnancy Advisory Service and Marie Stopes International from providing counselling for women with unwanted pregnancies.

Critics have raised concerns that the largest independent alternatives are faith-based, and therefore liable to try and influence clients against pregnancy termination. They suggest that this is effectively an anti-abortion gambit from the "Christian right," proof again that we should "keep 'faith' out of politics." For Hadley Freeman of the Guardian, this is an example of British politicians "adopting the Christian-right’s anti women attitudes" and for Laurie Penny in the New Statesman, proof that a "small, vocal, venal group of Christian conservative lobbyists" are rolling back women’s right to reproductive choice.

The murky backwaters of Tea Party politics provide a convenient backdrop—Nadine Dorries is, apparently, our own Michele Bachmann. But this Christian right trope is the reddest of red herrings. Here are a few facts which might confuse the story.

First, it conflates being pro-life with being on the right. But the All Party Parliamentary Pro-Life Group is headed up by a Labour politician: Jim Dobbin MP. Former MP and pro-lifer George Galloway, whatever his idiosyncrasies, could not be placed on the right. Amendment co-signatory Frank Field—admittedly not your typical Labour MP—does not swim in the same stream as Sarah Palin.

Second, part of the religious-right-are-coming story is to imply the existence of a shadowy network of activists, entryists slowly building influence within the Conservative Party in particular—a sleeper strategy which will one day see them lay hold of the levers of power and force their misanthropic worldview on the nation.

There is a parallel with US politics here, although it is not with the modern day Republican Party, but with McCarthy’s red scare. The pro-life movement in the UK has historically been fractious, notably incapable of working together coherently. But even so, what if there are “activists,” “lobbyists” and “networks”? A vibrant democratic culture depends on campaigns, ideas, agendas and relationships. Individuals, fortunately, can rarely wield influence alone but must build alliances and consensus. This is true of a network of pro-choice “activists.” And it’s true of groups “lobbying” to ensure the regularisation of illegal migrants. And it’s true of people campaigning for the welfare of ex-servicemen. God forbid, it looks as if we might have something resembling a healthy civil society.

Third, and contra Laurie Penny, the issue at hand is hardly about the “spiritual status” of the embryo. This is not a fight between reason and arcane religious teachings, which the just forces of secularism must purge from the public realm. No, in the first instance it’s about the people we, the British public, trust to offer counselling to women with unexpected pregnancies. Even on the wider moral question, it’s a mistake to assume that all those nasty Christian activists are primarily concerned with “spiritual” status of an embryo—like the rest of us, most Christian activists are simply concerned with the status of that embryo. What do we owe it, or him, or her? When does it take on the moral status and dignity of a human being? You don’t need theological fuel to keep that fire well stoked.

The Christian-right story is a convenient myth, akin to what Hannah Arendt called a “political lie.” It is not simply a distortion or occlusion of the facts, but a misrepresentation of Britain's political and religious landscape. The result is a less sophisticated and less serious debate. Considering the importance of the issues at stake, that is a great shame.