Female Genital Cutting in Africa: Culture vs. Human Rights

Introduction

Female genital cutting evokes a strong emotional response from those in Western cultures. Many reports characterize it as a barbaric practice, performed with unsterilized cutting tools by untrained individuals (Boddy, 2006). Images of screaming girls forced to endure unanesthetized surgery are commonly invoked. Why would anyone perform such a procedure on a young girl—likely a daughter or a loved one?

The answer is quite complex. Thousands of years of history have shaped a tradition with religious, social, cultural, physical, and even political dimensions (Abusharaf, 2001). Some argue that female genital cutting is not unlike male circumcision, except that girls are typically older when the procedure occurs. Anthropologically, it is not uncommon for individuals in many cultures to undergo painful rituals in order to meet culturally prescribed ideals of beauty or acceptance. Yet female genital cutting seems more disturbing to many observers because it affects the personal and sexual identities of women while also putting their lives—and the lives of their children—at risk.

In a global environment, Africa is no longer isolated in terms of knowledge and technology. More than one hundred years of colonial and missionary presence on the continent has made medical knowledge and care more prevalent. Though medical challenges remain obvious in a continent affected by famine and HIV, it is no longer unheard of for women to receive prenatal care or to give birth in clinics ("Female genital mutilation," 2006). Has access to medical care and knowledge affected the risks involved in female genital cutting, or has it made them worse?

This paper identifies what risks or benefits exist for African women who undergo female genital cutting in the twenty-first century. A review of the history and key terminology establishes a base of knowledge, followed by a discussion of the religious, cultural, social, physical, and political significance of the practice. The paper reviews existing literature on female genital cutting, with preference for work published after the year 2000. Discussion identifies what perceived risks and benefits exist for women undergoing female genital cutting in the twenty-first century according to existing research and personal accounts. Do current modern conditions make the procedure an acceptable risk for maintaining cultural identity? Is the cultural identity purportedly maintained by the tradition itself a risk to the well-being of girls in Africa? This paper draws conclusions and makes recommendations for additional research based on the evidence discussed.

Background: History, Classification, and Cultural Significance

According to Yount (2007), the classification of different kinds of female genital cutting is currently under revision. Historically, however, there are four classifications, designated female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) I through IV. The term "female genital cutting" is preferred throughout this paper because of its neutral wording; the practice is also sometimes referred to as female circumcision. FGC Type I includes the removal of some or all of the clitoris, and may also be called clitoridectomy (Dellenborg, 2004). FGC Type II removes the clitoris and some or all of the labia minora (the inner vaginal lips). FGC Type III removes the clitoris and some or all of the labia minora, and additionally involves the cutting and suturing of the labia majora; this often includes the narrowing of the vaginal opening and is also called infibulation (Yount, 2007; "Female genital mutilation," 2006). FGC Type IV encompasses a variety of other, often radical, practices including cauterization, bloodletting of the clitoris, cutting of the vaginal wall, or the use of corrosive substances to tighten the area (Yount, 2007). The methods most commonly used vary by region and practitioner.

According to the World Health Organization, more than 100 million girls and women worldwide have undergone female genital cutting at some level ("Female genital mutilation," 2006). Girls undergoing the procedure range in age from a few days old to puberty (Abusharaf, 2001). Depending on the area, culture, ethnicity, class, and political climate, the procedure may be performed secretly or may be a joyous community celebration. The surgery itself may be carried out by a trained or untrained midwife, a traditional healer, a barber, or a trained medical doctor or nurse (Abusharaf, 2001). Because of the private nature of the tradition and the wide range of methods used, it is difficult to adequately assess the details of female genital cutting across Africa.

The history of the tradition extends back thousands of years and is often—incorrectly—associated with religious dictates (von der Osten-Sacken & Uwer, 2007). It has long been associated with Islam, though many Islamic groups have actively argued otherwise; the procedure is neither mentioned nor sanctioned in the Quran (Abdelmagied, Salah, ElTahir, NurEldin, & Shareef, 2005; Abusharaf, 2001). It is mentioned in the Hadith, the oral tradition of Muhammad used by Sunni Muslim traditions, but even there it neither advises for nor against the procedure (von der Osten-Sacken & Uwer, 2007).

Nevertheless, many groups use religion to explain female genital cutting. Dellenborg (2004) reports that clitoridectomy has been spreading as part of female cultural identity under Islam since the mid-twentieth century. Additionally, illiteracy and limited access to information have led many Muslims to believe that some form of female genital cutting is required for religious purity (von der Osten-Sacken & Uwer, 2007).

Whether or not religion prescribes the procedure, female genital cutting plays an extremely important cultural and social role in many communities. One common association is that the removal of the clitoris and other genitalia symbolizes chastity and purity (von der Osten-Sacken & Uwer, 2007). In theory, removal of the external genitalia makes sexual contact less pleasurable, making a girl less likely to be tempted into premarital sex. The most severe forms of genital cutting and infibulation also demonstrate a girl's virginity, since she has been sutured closed (Morris, 2006). The implication of both arguments is that women participate in genital cutting to prove to men that they are virginal and chaste. While chastity is indeed valued in many Muslim societies, Dellenborg (2004) and Abusharaf (2001) offer alternative perspectives on the cultural need for genital cutting.

In sharp contrast to the assumption that African women are helplessly subject to male-dominated society, Abusharaf (2001) argues that some female genital cutting empowers women. He points to the tradition of women performing the ritual themselves, explaining that it functions as an important rite of passage rather than a forced patriarchal custom. Along the same lines, Dellenborg (2004) describes the women of Jola society in Senegal and Gambia, who use clitoridectomy as a rite initiating women into a female secret society that confers real power within their social circle. Dellenborg (2004) notes that Western conceptions of femininity and sexuality struggle to understand this choice precisely because the underlying frameworks are so different. Male circumcision, it should be noted, is common in most Westernized nations and also reduces sexual pleasure in conformity with social norms. The Jola women themselves have told researchers that clitoridectomy does not diminish their sexuality and in fact enriches their lives as women (Dellenborg, 2004). Other rituals—such as smoke-bathing and depilation—use heat and pain for purification without provoking comparable debate (Boddy, 2006).

One account from Sudan explains that the cultural and spiritual importance of the purification ritual sustains the cohesion of the community (Boddy, 2006). The Arabic word for womb (rihm) is rarely used in this context; instead, the idiom baytal-wilada, meaning "house of childbirth," is preferred. The implication is that a woman's body, like the high-walled domestic structure used for childbirth, is meant to enclose and protect the value of her kin and family (Boddy, 2006). In this symbolic framework, the suturing of the female genitalia represents the protection of family and family values.

The most widely cited argument against female genital cutting concerns its physical risks. Women are physically endangered by the procedure, as are their infants during childbirth and pregnancy ("Female genital mutilation," 2006). Historically, the primitive methods used have caused infection and death in many girls. Hemorrhaging from a poorly performed surgery remains a major risk wherever cutting is performed by untrained individuals. Because genital cutting can cause scar tissue around the vaginal opening, childbirth is often complicated for women who have had extensive cutting. This endangers infants during prolonged labors and puts both mother and child at risk when scar tissue must be cut away by midwives (Boddy, 2006).

The political significance of female genital cutting is also important, as it intersects with cultural and social dimensions of the rite. Over the past century, missionaries and colonial authorities have observed genital cutting with alarm. Beginning in the 1920s, a number of attempts were made to outlaw the procedure, particularly the most drastic methods of infibulation (Boddy, 2006). Some efforts, such as those of Mabel Woolf, aimed to create safer and less harmful alternatives; she worked to improve sanitation and introduce safer birthing methods for women with genital scarring (Boddy, 2006). While Woolf and others achieved moderate success in improving conditions, the outright prohibition of infibulation appears to have made matters worse.

As in many colonized regions, Africa resisted "forced" modernization and viewed the criminalization of female genital cutting as an attempt to control and diminish African cultural identity (Dellenborg, 2004). As a result, many communities fiercely defend the practice expressly to preserve a cultural identity threatened by imperialism (Abusharaf, 2001). These suppression efforts may also have increased the prevalence of the ritual. According to a study of more than 28,000 women in Africa conducted in 2006, 97% of Arab women, 96% of Nubian Sudanese women, 99% of Embu women in Kenya, and 98% of Bini women in Nigeria had undergone some form of genital cutting ("Female genital mutilation," 2006). Because comparable ethnic-group data are unavailable for earlier periods, direct comparison is difficult. However, UNICEF estimated that 93% of Sudanese women were circumcised in 2000–2001, compared to 89% in 1979. Whether or not this increase is linked to a backlash against imperialist pressure, it is evident that genital cutting has persisted into the twenty-first century.

Works Cited

Abdelmagied, A., Salah, W., ElTahir, N., NurEldin, T., and Shareef, S. (2005). Perception and attitudes of religious groups towards female genital mutilation. Ahfad Journal, 22(2), pp. 53–63.

Abusharaf, R.M. (2001). Virtuous cuts: Female genital circumcision in an African ontology. Differences, 12, pp. 112–140.

Boddy, J. (2006). Barbaric custom and colonial science. Ahfad Journal, 23(2), pp. 81–106.

Dellenborg, L. (2004). A reflection on the cultural meanings of female circumcision. In Signe Arnfred (Ed.), Re-thinking sexualities in Africa (pp. 79–96). Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell Tryckeri.

Female genital mutilation and obstetric outcome: WHO collaborative prospective study in six African countries. (2006, June 3). The Lancet, 367(9525), pp. 1835–1841.

Morris, K. (2006). Issues on female genital mutilation/cutting—progress and parallels. The Lancet, 368(9554), pp. S64–66.

von der Osten-Sacken, T., and Uwer, T. (2007). Is female genital mutilation an Islamic problem? Middle East Quarterly, 14(1), pp. 29–36.

Yount, K.M., and Abraham, B.K. (2007). Female genital cutting and HIV/AIDS among Kenyan women. Studies in Family Planning, 38(2), pp. 73–88.