copyright 1996 The Seattle Times Company
Local News : Sept. 13, 1996
Harborview debates issue of circumcision of Muslim girls
by Carol M. Ostrom
Seattle Times staff reporter
It started simply enough: a pregnant Somali patient and a doctor
in an examining room at
Harborview Medical Center. The doctor asked
what she thought was a routine question: "If it's a boy, do you
want him circumcised?"
"Yes," the Somali woman replied. "But what if it's a girl?"
The refugee woman's question and its implications sent doctors and
administrators at Harborview reeling. Circumcision for girls? Surely
no doctor would ever consider performing removing healthy tissue,
a procedure dubbed by some accounts from Africa and other Third
World countries as "female genital mutilation."
And yet, these were women of another culture, a culture the doctors
believed they should respect. Soon, some began to listen. And what
they heard convinced them that as strongly as a Jewish mother
believes her son must be circumcised to be a member of the faith,
so do some Somali Muslim refugees in Seattle believe that their
daughters' genitals must be cut to comply with their religion and
demands of their culture.
The question facing Harborview: Was there any alternative to cutting
away healthy genital tissue that would satisfy what some Somalis
believe is a religious and cultural requirement?
"It's very important for the Somalian people, because it's a very
old culture," says Fardosa Abdullahi, speaking through a translator.
Her head and upper body draped in a black hijab, a traditional
Muslim covering, Abdullahi insists that each of her three young
daughters must be cut. "It's important for her health; it's important
for religion. We have to keep the religion."
How important is it? Enough to go back to Africa or to another
country to get it done, enough to offer bundles of money to native
"midwives" to do it, the Somali women say. "It's important enough
to take your three kids and get a ticket, $1,500 for each person,"
says Kadija Ahmed, a Somali woman with three daughters.
A Harborview committee chaired by Dr. Abraham Bergman, chief of
pediatrics, found that there was something called a "sunna"
circumcision, which, as envisioned, would entail no more than a
small cut in the prepuce, the hood above a girl's clitoris. It
would remove no tissue and leave only a small scar. The Somali
women say it would fulfill their religious and cultural needs.
Dr. James LoGerfo, Harborview's medical director, has sent the
committee's recommendation to the state's attorney general for
legal review. No doctors at Harborview have done the procedure,
nor is there any plan to do anything before a communitywide discussion
of the issue is held, LoGerfo says.
None of that has placated those who say that even talking about
cutting female genitals legitimizes a barbaric practice, one that
disempowers women and serves to keep them out of the American
mainstream.
Mimi Ramsey, a 43-year-old Ethiopian who heads Forward International,
a California-based group working to stop genital cutting, said she
was mutilated when she was six years old and would do anything to
stop doctors from cutting girls' genitals.
"This is the most horrible, horrible thing that is happening to
children. This is the sort of pain they want to create for the
helpless little girls that are Americans. They are born in this
country. They have a right to protect their bodies."
"This is barbaric," agrees Diane Dupuy, a local member of the group.
"I can't imagine doing this to girls; this is taking away their
rights."
On the contrary, says LoGerfo, the compromise may be the only
available ethical, legal and humane alternative "short of throwing
the kids and the mother in jail for 20 years to make sure nothing
happens to them."
Bergman says outsiders should be careful when making judgments
about the cultures of others. "It behooves us to show some respect,"
he says, adding that decisions should not be made without thorough
information.
As for the mothers who asked the Harborview doctors if their
daughters could be circumcised, they, too, find themselves trying
to understand a strange culture.
Most of them were cut in Somalia, the majority in ways that removed
much tissue and sewed together what was left. In procedures called
"infibulations" or "Pharaonic" circumcisions, most lost their
clitorises and surrounding flesh, becoming scarred in ways that
sometimes cause pain and difficulty in childbirth and can make
intercourse painful. But they say that such cutting was a mark of
a respectable family that cared about its daughter, a guarantee of
her virginity, a sign that the girl was a good Muslim.
Many Somali women are shocked to find that, in this country, some
people think cutting young girls' genitals amounts to child abuse.
Without circumcision, a girl would feel embarrassed, says one
28-year-old Somali woman, a mother of three. If other girls knew,
they would laugh at her, and she would feel shamed. If her daughters
are not circumcised, she says, no man will want to marry them.
"He will think he is getting a girl already used," she says.
Circumcision, even a tiny cut, she says, will somehow help her
daughters avoid what she sees as the American disease: "Girls 13,
14, 15 get pregnant, go wild, get welfare." It won't prevent a girl
from having sex, she concedes, but it would be a sign that "she's
trying to control herself."
Like other Muslin women, she says her religion requires girls be
circumcised. She and others who have studied the issue say female
circumcision is not spelled out in the Koran, but is mentioned in
the Hadith, the collection of oral religious teachings.
Ahmed Scego, a 29-year-old Somali man who has been in the U.S.
since 1988, worries that if mothers take their daughters back to
Africa, there is more chance that a grandmother who believes in
the old way, the Pharaonic circumcision, will call the shots. "I
know a lot of people who are saving their money to take their
daughters somewhere," he says.
These women already have moved from being radically cut themselves
to wanting only a virtually symbolic cut for their daughters, he
says. Somalis are a proud culture, he says, and they don't change
easily.
According to studies, Somalia has one of the highest rates of female
circumcision, which is practiced in more than 30 countries in the
world, predominantly in Africa. In some countries, including Somalia,
over 80 percent of the women are cut.
A teenager from Togo was recently given asylum amid a rash of
stories depicting screaming girls being held down by relatives as
their flesh was scraped away.
The
World Health Organization says that the more severe forms have
caused infections, tetanus, bleeding, shock, hemorrhage and even
death. A woman who survives all that may have difficulties in
childbirth, scarring and pain.
Estimates place the Somali population in the Seattle area at about
3,000. Other states with relatively large populations of immigrants
from African countries that practice female circumcision - Rhode
Island, Tennessee, Minnesota and North Dakota - have outlawed the
practice. A similar bill in California has passed the legislature
and is awaiting the governor's signature. In Congress, a bill
introduced by Rep. Pat Schroeder of Colorado would outlaw the
practice.
Some doctors at Harborview don't like the idea of a national law.
In fact, says Dr. Leslie Miller, an obstetrician-gynecologist, a
sunna circumcision of girls would be a good deal less drastic than
what is done to boys during circumcision, a common and accepted
procedure.
Miller says she can understand why the refugees are confused. "We
will cut the whole foreskin off a penis, but we won't even consider
a cut, a sunna, cutting the prepuce, a little bloodletting (on a
girl)," she says.
Medical doctors in this country also do cosmetic surgery on genitals,
Miller notes.
"We're not discussing circumcision with (the Somalis) because we
want to mutilate their daughters' genitals; it's because it's a
reasonable request," says Miller.
Not all Somali women want to have their daughters circumcised,
Miller says. But perhaps doctors should consider doing sunna
circumcisions if such a procedure would help make the transition
from the generation with radical circumcisions to one where no
cutting at all would need to be done, she suggests.
Not all Muslim countries practice female circumcision, and the
procedure appears to be dictated by culture and tradition as much
as by religion. Tradition also dictates the age at which a girl is
cut: In Somalia, a girl is typically 6 to 8 years old. In this
country, such a young girl would not be considered able to give
consent, noted LoGerfo. If any such procedure were ever done,
LoGerfo says, age 12 would be the minimum.
At
Children's Medical Center, medical director Dr. John Neff says
only procedures that are deemed medically necessary are performed.
But he concedes there is debate as to the medical necessity of
circumcisions for boys. "Male circumcision is a controversial
issue," he says. "Female circumcision, as far as we're concerned,
is not a controversial issue. It just should not be done."
Kadija Ahmed says she knows Americans find it difficult to understand
her religion and culture, the underpinnings of a country where she
was married at 13 to a much older man who paid her parents 100
camels for his beautiful young bride.
"Everything we do comes from religion - how we eat, how we dress,
how we talk to people," she says.
Fardosa Abdullahi says Allah spells out what is right, and she and
other Muslims must follow.
"Anyone who thinks this is wrong or weird is not respecting my
culture or my religion or who I am," she says, "and they should be
educated."
Citation:
Carol M. Ostrom. Seattle Times, Seattle, Washington, 13 September 1996.
(File revised 6 September 2004)
Home Pagehttp://www.cirp.org/news/1996.09.13_SeattleTimes/
