Violence matters. It wrecks lives. It causes injury and misery. Violence is both a cause and a consequence of inequality. It is a violation of human rights. Violence is a detriment to health and to sustainable economic development (Walby et al., 2017, p.1)

Female Genital Mutilation is a specific form of gender-based violence which remains one of the most pervasive human rights violations worldwide. Walby (2017) suggests that violence can be defined in both narrow and broad contexts. In the narrow sense, it involves physical harm; however, a broader definition also includes ‘symbolic violence,’ which encompasses cultural power and non-physical coercion, such as psychological abuse and harassment. Gender is not external to this violence but is deeply embedded within it, shaping the dynamics between perpetrators and victims (Walby et al., 2017). This gender-saturated violence is often used to establish control over a woman’s body, which, as Angela King (2004) drawing on feminist and Foucauldian perspectives argues, is an over-determined site of power; a surface inscribed with culturally and historically specific practices and shaped by political and economic forces (p. 30).

FGM can be understood as a disciplinary practice that regulates female sexuality and enforces norms of purity and conformity. While Foucault (1975) conceptualises such practices as producing “docile bodies,” as per King (2004), his framework focuses more on how discourse creates subjects (active identities), overlooking how women, in particular, have been reduced to objects by being associated with the body in the cultural and intellectual discourse. He does not consider that discipline operates differently on women’s bodies, that gender determines the techniques and degrees of discipline exerted on the body (King, 2004, p. 30). FGM, therefore, is not merely a general form of bodily discipline but a specifically gendered mechanism of control embedded in power relations.

FGM, in various communities, is justified through the construction of the clitoris as masculine and its removal as necessary for femininity (Adongo et al., 1998), demonstrating how femininity functions as a disciplinary regime that regulates women’s bodies (King, 2004). It expresses unequal power relations by regulating female sexuality (Finke, 2006). The procedure is also justified as a means of preserving virginity before marriage and ensuring fidelity afterwards (Adongo et al., 1998). FGM is also performed to maintain the status of the clan and elevate a woman’s standing, as those who do not undergo it are often perceived as impure or cowards (Adongo et al., 1998).

The practice of FGM is mostly relegated to several African Nations. However, it is practised in India as well, primarily within the Dawoodi Bohra community^[1], a sub-sect of Ismaili Shia Islam. Known locally as khatna or khafd, the ritual typically involves the removal of a pinch of skin from the clitoral hood, usually between the ages of six and twelve (Taher, 2017). While the Government of India has stated a commitment to achieving the UN Sustainable Development Goals to eliminate harmful practices, there remains a lack of credible official data on its prevalence^[2]. Current research relies heavily on studies by organisations like Sahiyo (2017), which cite religion and tradition as the primary justification for the practice. It is considered a guarantee of virginity and fidelity, while the health risks and psychological trauma they may face after marriage are often neglected.

The physical and emotional toll on women is significant. The words used by women to describe their experience of Khatna include nose prick, pinch, injection, prick of a needle, nick, strongly pinched, ant bite, piercing pain, and “the way the upper skin is peeled off, causing pain (Anantnarayan et al., 2018). Euphemisms are often used to persuade young girls to undergo circumcision. Although women experience pain during the process, many remain unaware of the true meaning of the practice. Some men are also unaware that khatna takes place.

Beyond the immediate pain, the practice leads to long-term health complications and affects women’s sexual well-being. Many women report sexual frustration and anxiety.

I was not comfortable allowing penetrative sex. I felt anxious and nervous, and would start to shiver until my husband gave up, seeing my strange behaviour. I would normalise immediately after he withdrew. He would be fine, but I suffered from guilt pangs. (Taher, 2017, p. 57).

Crucially, women often act as the primary enforcers of this practice; the perpetrators are usually traditional midwives, deeply ingrained in structures they are part of, and many do not perceive khatna as harmful.

The battle for eradication has recently moved into the Indian judiciary through a Public Interest Litigation (PIL) challenging the constitutionality of FGM. Central to the Supreme Court’s deliberation is the ‘Essential Religious Practices’ (ERP) doctrine, which determines what constitutes a protected religious practice under Articles 25 and 26 of the Constitution.^[3] A bench led by Justices B.V. Nagarathna and R. Mahadevan is examining the plea to ban FGM.

While many international organisations have taken measures to combat the practice, India faces a challenge in reconciling religious beliefs with human rights. Recent studies indicate that education is a powerful tool, as educated women are more likely to reject the practice for their daughters (Finke, 2006). To effectively eradicate FGM, there is a need for more official data and sociological inquiry to dismantle the entrenched beliefs that sustain this practice.

References:

Adongo, P., Akeongo, P., Binka, F., & Mbacké, C. (1998). Female Genital Mutilation: Socio-Cultural Factors that Influence the Practice in Kassena-Nankana District, Ghana. African Journal of Reproductive Health / La Revue Africaine de La Santé Reproductive, 2(2), 25–36.

Anantnarayan, L., Diler, S., & Menon, N. (2018). The clitoral hood: A contested site – Khafd or female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C) in India. WeSpeakOut & Nari Samata Manch.

King, A. (2004). The prisoner of gender: Foucault and the disciplining of the female body. Journal of International Women’s Studies, 5(2), 29–39.

Finke, E. (2006). Genital mutilation as an expression of power structures: Ending FGM through education, empowerment of women and removal of taboos. African Journal of Reproductive Health / La Revue Africaine de la Santé Reproductive, 10(2), 13–17.

Foucault, M. (1975). Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (A. Sheridan, Trans.). Pantheon Books.

Taher, M., et al. (2017). Ending female genital cutting: A survey of the Dawoodi Bohra community. Sahiyo.

Walby, S., Towers, J., Balderston, S., Corradi, C., Francis, B., Heiskanen, M., Helweg-Larsen, K., Mergaert, L., Olive, P., Palmer, E., Stöckl, H., & Strid, S. (2017). The Concept and Measurement of Violence Against Women and Men. Policy Press.

^[1] It has been suggested that FGC may also be occurring on a smaller scale in other groups (such as the Sulemani Bohras and a sub-sect of Sunnis in Kerala), but no surveys of size have been conducted in these communities.

^[2] https://sansad.in/getFile/loksabhaquestions/annex/1711/AU2769.pdf?source=pqals

^[3] https://www.thenewsminute.com/news/supreme-court-to-hear-female-genital-mutilation-case-after-7-years-of-legal-limbo

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Anjali Sidhwani is doing a PhD in Adult Education from Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), New Delhi.