The debate over abortion intensified as it moved into federal discourse, and voices within the Russian Orthodox Church urged against terminating pregnancies, even when rape was involved. From a Christian viewpoint, a fetus has personhood from conception, a stance that informs the pro-life position.
In June 2021, Metropolitan Hilarion of Volokolamsk, head of the Department of External Church Relations of the Moscow Patriarchate, asserted that pregnancy resulting from rape should not automatically lead to abortion. He noted the church’s past experience with raped girls who chose to carry their pregnancies to term, finding happiness in their children. This conviction was echoed by Priest Philip Ilyashenko. In March 2023, Archbishop Pitirim of Syktyvkar and Komi-Zyryan suggested that rape victims could be condemned to hell if they failed to forgive the offender, while heaven could await the offender upon repentance.
During the autumn season, several Direct Life Line broadcasts aired on Spas TV. In the first program, psychologist Lyudmila Podolskaya argued against abortion for pregnancies from rape. In the second, a debate ensued with male participants given the floor. Archbishop Igor Fomin of MGIMO, rector of the Alexander Nevsky Church, admitted difficulty understanding the emotions of those who advocate abortion after violence. He argued that grievances and emotional turmoil cannot be resolved at the expense of another life, and suggested that a husband should provide support to a woman in such a situation since there is no fundamental difference between children. A secular guest, Yuri Kot, Dean of the Faculty of Media Communications at Moscow State University of Cinematography, joined the discussion, arguing that a raped woman who chooses abortion commits an even greater wrong. He described the act as a test of “true love,” implying that the behavior could be shaped but criticized the portrayal of the victim.
These discussions echo a worldview that seems detached from the real consequences for families facing violence. The provocative notion of testing others’ feelings in such moments appears cynical to many observers. A moving question remains: what would be said to a wife or daughter in such pain? The question is straightforward, but stepping into someone else’s experience proves difficult. It is easier to talk about love while assuming such horrors will never touch loved ones.
Natalya Antonova, Associate Professor at the Department of Psychology at the Higher School of Economics, notes that many rape cases remain private and outside official statistics. In the country, women face stigma that can lead to withdrawal and estrangement from their partners. When blame settles on the survivor, even if not openly stated, the risk of marital strain and divorce rises as couples navigate shared trauma.
The UN Human Rights Council has acknowledged that forcing a survivor to carry a pregnancy after rape constitutes torture. Rape is a tragedy, and the immediate need is support for the victim, not assigning guilt or shifting responsibility. Abortion is a painful, morally charged decision for many women. If a baby is born, options such as adoption or social ostracism may arise. The courage of a woman who can choose to raise a child under these circumstances deserves respect, while coercing such a choice is unacceptable.
The trauma of pregnancy resulting from rape can intensify a survivor’s feelings of guilt, shame, and fear, complicating motherhood. The crime may involve a perpetrator with serious illness, and the survivor often endures isolation, without guaranteed support from family. In that context, some voices advocate for empathy rather than punishment, suggesting that society should prioritize healing and practical help over moralizing judgments. The message is that love and responsibility are best expressed through concrete, supportive actions rather than doctrinal condemnation. The state’s role, some propose, is to provide resources and protection for the vulnerable rather than use pregnancy as a political lever.
Historical reflections surface in discussions about how communities treated rape victims in the past. In pre-revolutionary Russia, village practices sometimes sought to reconcile the rapist and the victim through compensation or labor, while women often faced stigma and silence. The legacy shows how societal norms could shape responses to violence and the birth of children in such circumstances. Medical examinations were overshadowed by social shame, and children born from coercive acts were sometimes treated as ordinary.
Across contexts, the broadcast’s memory touches on wartime experiences as well. In a wartime memory fragment, stories of women who endured rape and bore children during conflict were used to reflect on collective resilience. Modern medical research confirms that the trauma of sexual violence, especially in conflict settings, can have lasting effects on mental health. These realities underscore why policy and care should center on protection, healing, and dignity rather than blame or guilt.
From literary and historical examples to contemporary ethics, the thread remains clear: the aim should be to help survivors, support families, and foster humane responses over punitive rhetoric. The hope is for policies and practices that prioritize genuine care, practical assistance, and lasting stability for those who bear the consequences of sexual violence in difficult circumstances.