A chance to address abortion standoff

Just when it seems that sanity might be slipping into the endless national debate on abortion, just when it seems that some common ground might be attainable, comes this story:
A Florida girl who has been in state custody since 1998 -- and who has run away repeatedly from her foster care homes -- takes flight again, this time from a state-licensed group home in January. The girl, known only as L.G., becomes pregnant, and after being counseled about her choices, tells her caseworker that she wants an abortion.
She is 13 years old.
And the governor goes to court to try to stop her.
The governor, remember, is Jeb Bush, brother of the President and relentless champion of what he calls "the sanctity of life." He argues that state law prevents his administration from consenting to the abortion, no matter the circumstance.
The court rules that state law does no such thing, and Bush backs down, an uncharacteristic move for a politician who led the fight to intervene in the case of poor Terri Schiavo and has, on another occasion, sought to appoint a guardian for the fetus of a severely retarded rape victim. L.G. reportedly had an abortion May 3. The ramifications, of course, continue.
Basic question
This sorrowful tale raises a basic question for those who, like Jeb Bush, believe that government should intervene to prevent the termination of a pregnancy: Will there ever be a time or circumstance when an abortion "is permitted?
If not for a 13-year-old girl with no family and no home, then when? If not for a severely retarded rape victim, then when?
If the answer is "Never. Full stop, end of discussion. The fetus' right to be born always supersedes the mother's right to determine her fate," then the search for common ground on this vexing issue will always be frustrated. And that is a monumental shame, because lately the political dialogue has shifted in ways that could make common ground possible.
I write from the perspective of someone who has long contended that both sides in the abortion debate share blame for today's polarization. The pro-choice movement's stubborn reluctance to acknowledge the humanity of the fetus and to argue exclusively for a woman's reproductive rights has been just as damaging as pro-lifers' insistence that tampering with biology amounts to murder.
Truth is, most Americans recognize that abortion resides in that difficult space where dueling moralities compete. I've spoken with people who are personally opposed to abortion but reluctant to legislate away the rights of others. I've spoken with others who are instinctively or politically pro-choice -- until they land in a situation in which they could choose abortion, and find they just can't.
This ambivalence, reflected in poll after poll, isn't the result of moral relativism or a "culture of death," as some have implied. It's an outgrowth of those supreme American traits -- pragmatism and tolerance -- that have always been in contest with a more fundamentalist mentality and, happily, very often have prevailed.
Compassion
Pragmatism requires judgment; tolerance calls for compassion. If the state of Florida -- or any other government -- can order a 13-year-old in its care to carry a fetus to term against her wishes, utilizing the absurd argument that she is too young to decide on her own but not too young to become a mother, then why talk about compassion and judgment in public discourse and government policy?
The irony of this story in Florida is that many in the pro-choice community are now finally speaking about abortion in terms that recognize its moral and ethical implications, in language that aches to find common ground. And it comes at a time when the overall rate of abortion, especially among U.S. teenagers, is continuing its downward trend, a fact that all sides should celebrate.
Instead, we are once again reminded of why a woman's right to choose whether to continue a pregnancy must have some protection in the laws of this land. It should not be a right without a commensurate responsibility. It should not be abused.
But it cannot be relinquished completely. Not if that means a homeless girl's future will be dictated by a bunch of men who fashion themselves as protectors of life but never, ever have to bear the consequences.
X Eisner writes for the Philadelphia Inquirer. Distributed by Knight Ridder/Tribune Information Services.