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Beyond Female Genital Circumcision:
An African Success Story
by Louise Diamond
Violence against women takes many forms around the world, from the direct (wife beating, rape, sex trafficking, female infanticide, for example) to the indirect (the required wearing of the burqa, the dowry system, job discrimination, etc.).
All forms of such violence are crimes against peace. At the socio-political level they are the ultimate expression of dominance in an unequal power relation. From a more esoteric view, they are attempts to subjugate and deny the feminine principle a dangerous and ultimately terminal infirmity afflicting humanity in these times. To restore harmony to this planet, and to enhance the life force, we need instead to be re-balancing the masculine and feminine principles, the yin and the yang, which have become dangerously skewed toward that which destroys rather than that which sustains life.
One of the most virulent forms of violence against women is female genital circumcision (FGC). Practiced in 28 African countries and also in parts of the Middle East and Asia, this practice is performed on roughly 2 million young girls per year. In all, 135 million women have experienced some form of FGC. In it, some or all of the female genitalia are cut off usually with a razor blade, a piece of glass, or a knife, and with no anesthesia in order to make the woman more `suitable for marriage' i.e., to insure she has no sexual pleasure and thus will have no incentive to lose her virginity before marriage or commit adultery afterwards.
The health hazards from this practice are severe, including hemorrhaging and sepsis, long-term difficulties with intercourse and childbirth, problems with urination, chronic pain, and even death. The psychological affects of such mutilation are equally horrific. The underlying assumption is that a woman belongs to a man, and exists to serve his pleasure, with no rights to her own pleasure let alone to the integrity of her own body.
The practice of FGC is particularly hard to uproot because over time it has become deeply embedded in traditional culture and religion. Passed down from generation to generation and internalized even by the women of these communities as the `right thing to do' and `just how things are,' FGC has proven particularly resistant to change, especially when the impetus for that change comes from `well-meaning' outsiders (read, `cultural imperialists').
Thus I was delighted, on a recent trip to Ethiopia, to spend time in one community where the practice of FGC is slowly coming to a halt. I had the good fortune to visit the village of Doho-1, a community of Afar people living in a remote, dry, scrub region about five hours from Addis Ababa. A semi-pastoralist community of herders, the men will leave the village for some months at a time, to find better water and grazing lands for their goats, cows, and camels. In heavy drought conditions, the women and children will join the men in their nomadic wandering. The people's life is sparse in terms of material goods and things like education and health care, yet rich in indigenous ways of coping with their natural environment. Their religion is Islam, and their cultural traditions including FGC for all girls starting as young as 4 years old, conducted on three special ceremonial days each year go back too many generations to count.
I was invited to visit this village by the Ethiopian office of CARE, the pre-eminent international relief and development agency with whom I do training and consulting on issues of gender and diversity. They have been working with the Doho community on the issue of FGC for several years. I was particularly impressed with their approach. In meetings with religious leaders and village headmen, and in community gatherings with women as well, they simply bring up the subject for conversation, without articulating or imposing their point of view. As the conversations progress over time, and when the opening is there, they may present information about the health hazards of this practice, so that the people can make the connection between girls dying so young (assumed to be the `will of Allah') or having such physical pain and problems, with the practice of genital cutting a connection not previously established in the minds of the people.
At one point, religious leaders looked into the subject and determined that this was a cultural tradition and not a religious one that is, that the Koran does not require female circumcision (unlike male circumcision, which is a religious imperative). This gave the women strength to say that they wanted the custom stopped, and gave other influential men a basis for saying the hazards outweighed any benefits. Certain key women stood up and stood out, willing to be the first to declare that their girl children would not undergo the practice.
Even with the support of some religious and community male leaders, the women's new stance is not easily supported by the people. Girls who are not cut are taunted by their peers `You will not find a man willing to marry you!' Mothers who choose this option are harassed and marginalized by their peers as well, for challenging tradition. Even many of the midwives, who do the cutting, are against the change. Old ways die hard.
Thus various factions have developed in the community, with some for and some against FGC. The brave women and their male counterparts willing to change have formed an Anti-FGC club, and proudly proclaim membership! Now they are looking for ways to demonstrate that there are tangible and material benefits associated with this new custom, thereby attracting more into their club.
CARE's approach in this village is being replicated elsewhere, and slowly by slowly (although accurate numbers are hard to come by, especially among nomadic peoples), the 100% rate of FGC is this region, which is home to approximately .5 million women, is being noticeably lowered. The change process is ongoing; the critical mass has not yet, perhaps, been reached. Yet the tipping point is approaching, as more and more women have the courage to put the safety and health of their daughters ahead of deeply-rooted cultural traditions and as a handful of men stand in solidarity with them on this issue.
As I sat in a circle in the community hut that is used for such gatherings, and listened to the elders and the women speak about this change process and what it meant for them, I was deeply touched by their courage, their commitment, and their perseverance. I was struck too by the fact that within what we, from the vantage point of our privileged lifestyle, would consider extreme poverty, there was a richness of spirit and love that was vibrant and immeasurable.
They asked about our culture, and I was embarrassed by the distance between our rights as women in society and theirs. As I spoke about our ability as women to receive a good education, to have a job and earn money, and to make many choices in our lives, I was aware simultaneously of how far from even these basic rights the Afar women were, and at the same time how we western women are still engaged in the ongoing journey for full equality. How much we take for granted!
As we were about to leave, I looked around the circle at the beautiful women of this village, who had come out on a hot and dusty day to so graciously greet these foreigners and discuss such intimate matters, and realized the ground we shared. "I am a grandmother," I thought. "I have two daughters and two granddaughters. I too would do anything to spare them unnecessary pain and suffering." Such is the power of love to bridge the gap between untold miles of geographical and cultural difference; such is the power of love for change.
I salute the women of the Anti-FGC Club of Doho-1 village, and their counterparts everywhere, as Pillars of Peace! I congratulate them on their progress in eliminating this practice, and I offer my prayers in solidarity, that their efforts may bring benefit to all women who suffer this form of mutilation. May their achievements hasten the day when this and other forms of violence against women are remembered merely as a whisper of history, floating on the winds of long ago.
Postscript: After I returned from Ethiopia, CARE helped convene a regional meeting in the Afar area on this subject, attracting 250 religious leaders, government officials, and women's groups representatives. After three days of intensive struggle, the outcome was a spectacular declaration that infibulation (the extreme form of FGC practiced in this region) is both a religious and a civil crime! Anti-FGC committees were established, and charged with ending the practice in this part of the world. Congratulations to the brave pioneers men and women who are leading the way on this critical issue!
To learn more about, and to support, CARE's programs in Ethiopia and elsewhere, go to www.careusa.org.
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