Category: Sunat Perempuan

RECAP: Panel discussion with asatizah discussing female genital cutting

By Danesha Shah

On 13 March 2021, I attended an online panel discussion with Ustazah Lina Salim and Ustaz Sheikh Md Farouq where they discussed the issue of Female Genital Cutting (FGC) within the Muslim community. They discussed from the perspective of Fiqh (Islamic Jurisprudence) and Islamic Bioethics respectively. It was organised by End FGC Singapore and supported by Beyond the Hijab.

The session began with a brief introduction by moderator Sya Taha on the four types of Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) as defined by the World Health Organisation (WHO). The practice, regardless of its different iterations, does not result in any health benefits for young girls and women. Approximately 75% of Muslim women have undergone FGC according to a survey done by End FGC Singapore in late 2020.

Following that, Ustazah Lina explained the four instances in which circumcision is mentioned in hadiths and how it relates to the four official rulings of FGC under the four Mazhabs (schools of Islamic thought) of Islam. The four hadiths that were discussed during the session were Sahih al-Bukhari 6298, Riyad as-Salihin 1203, Sahih Muslim 526 and hadith no. 20994. According to some scholarly interpretations of these hadiths, under Mazhab Syafi’i, the practice is considered wajib or obligatory. However, as scholarly interpretations are not completely unanimous, some Mazhab Syafi’i scholars do regard it as sunnah instead.

To conclude, she gave some advice on how to deal with differing opinions about FGC within the Muslim community. As more members of the community form their opinions about the practice, the advice she shared that I thought was the most pertinent was to stray away from “othering” those that have differing opinions as this results in further division within our community.

Ustaz Farouq began his presentation on the Islamic Bioethical Deliberations on FGC. Islamic Bioethics is a concept which refers to the Islamic perspective on ethical or moral issues that result from advances in biology and medicine. As a result of recent medical advancements, FGC has been proven to have no health benefits hence the analysis from an Islamic Bioethical standpoint is key.

He went on to explain the positions of both proponents and oppositions of FGC. In his perspective, proponents of FGC center their opinions on that of scholars and jurists of the past. Meanwhile, while opponents of FGC mainly believe that it is a pre-Islamic custom without substantial religious grounding. They also believe in contemporary interpretations of the hadith that do not deem FGC as mandatory. All in all, they believe that modern scientific advancements calls for the rethinking of the practice in the Muslim community. He then proceeds to analyse the weaknesses in both arguments as proponents fail to address the concerns of dignity and gendered notions of morality for women that undergo FGC while oppositions avoid difficult narratives in the tradition of FGC in the Muslim community. He then stressed the importance of not treating the opinions of proponents and oppositions as mutually exclusive and that there is an opportunity to reform if these conversations begin at home.

To end off, when deliberating the practice of FGC, Ustaz Farouq urged that it should be firstly, a voluntary and informed decision by the individual who it will be performed on. Secondly, it should be guided by noble intentions and thirdly, for the holistic well-being of the child.

The webinar ended with a Q&A session during which one participant asked the two speakers on the issue of consent when FGC is done on girls under the age of 2. Ustaz Farouq noted that although parents do have responsibility over their children in Islam, they do not own them. Hence, parents should not have their children undergo FGC if they are unsure of the possible effects it may have on the child.

In response to a question about following and trusting one’s ustaz/ah about FGC, Ustaz Farouq mentioned that although seeking guidance from religious authorities is critical, we should not blindly rely on them and instead, create spaces to talk about FGC.

As someone who has never heard a discussion of FGC from a religious perspective, the webinar was extremely enlightening as I continue learning more about FGC through this series of online conversations. As the Muslim community grows increasingly passionate about FGC, we should remain respectful and open to hearing opinions of others in our community so that we can work together to achieve reform.

Follow End FGC SG on Instagram.

4 April 2021
RECAP: Panel discussion with parents discussing female genital cutting

By Danesha Shah

On 29 January 2020, I attended an online panel discussion with three parents on the practice of Female Genital Cutting (FGC) within the Muslim community in Singapore which was organised by End FGC SG and supported by Beyond the Hijab. The three speakers were Sya, a mother of two, Nas, a father of one and Zubee, a mother of four, with Saza as the moderator. They shared their rationale for choosing not to have their daughters undergo FGC or “sunat perempuan” as it is referred to in the Malay/Muslim community.

FGC is a practice where young girls, typically under the age of 2, have their clitoral hood, clitoris or other genital tissue cut. Oftentimes, a small piece of skin is removed. Sometimes, the cut is symbolic. This practice is not a medical procedure that is taught in medical school. Instead, doctors learn it from their more senior counterparts. It is offered as a service in Muslim-owned private medical clinics and in the past, was more commonly done by midwives.

As a young Muslim woman who is largely ignorant of this custom, it was interesting to hear their journey towards educating themselves on the matter and eventually arriving to their decisions. One of the speakers, Sya, shared that it became a topic of discussion between her and her partner who was a non-Muslim at the time. This journey eventually led her to decide against circumcising not only her daughter, but her son too. One of her reasons was the lack of medical validity as circumcision is unnecessary to keep one’s genitals clean. She also cited the fact that sunat perempuan is only required in some understandings of the Syafii mazhab (school of thought). Above all, she emphasised the importance of bodily autonomy of her children. This sentiment was shared by the two other speakers who similarly echoed the importance of not controlling their children’s bodies by having them undergo circumcision as a child or an infant when they have yet to understand the ramifications of doing so.

The next speaker, Nas, shared how he first began learning about FGC through learning about the custom in African tribes and communities. Similar to Sya, he had a discussion with his partner, who in spite of being circumcised herself as a child, decided against circumcising their daughter. In addition to the importance of protecting his daughter’s bodily autonomy, another key consideration for him was that circumcision as a practice went against the natural anatomy of a human body and thus, should not be done unless it is medically necessary.

Meanwhile, the final speaker, Zubee, did circumcise her two sons but did not choose to do so for her two daughters. Her change of heart towards circumcision was sparked by her exchange trip to Jordan where she met Muslim women who themselves were not circumcised. This was when she realised that circumcision in the Muslim community in Singapore was more of a sociocultural practice rather than being purely religously motivated.

During the Q&A segment, an attendee asked how they could come to terms with the hadiths that support female circumcision. Sya, Nas and Zubee shared how they viewed the practice as sunnah, not obligatory. These hadiths were also of weak credibility. Sya shared that hadiths can be seen as descriptions of the practice at specific times and places and that they do not have to be seen as a mandate of the practice. Another attendee asked how effective closed door dialogues will be in stopping or curbing FGC. Participants mentioned that the demand for FGC is primarily driven by parents. As such, dialogues will encourage discussion and continued interest in the topic, thereby supporting a change in public opinion.

All in all, I definitely felt that the sharing by both the participants and attendees were highly informative and helped me in my personal journey towards learning about FGC. Regardless of where you stand on this issue, it’s time for the Muslim community to confront our own preconceived notions and ignorance towards FGC.

Follow End FGC SG on Instagram.

8 February 2021
Is Female Circumcision Islamic?
By Zuby Eusofe

Female Circumcision or Sunat Perempuan has been debated for many years till today. Some religious scholars assert that female circumcision is not FGM (Female Genital Mutilation) and it is Sunnah to follow according to the ahadith (sayings of the Prophet Muhammad PBUH). However, many scholars of Islam have found that most of these hadiths pertaining to female circumcision are not authentic.

Before I go on further, let me reiterate that this article is purely within the capacity of my personal observations and research on the issue. Where applicable, I have included research conducted by various scholars of Islam. I value your patience and understanding in reading this.

To begin, the four Sunni schools of thought all have differing opinions on the issue.
- The Hanafi view is that it is a sunnah (optional act) for both females and males;
- Maliki hold the view that it is wajib (obligatory) for males and sunnah (optional) for females;
- Syafii view it as wajib (obligatory) for both females and males;
- Hanbali have two opinions:
  - it is wajib (obligatory) for both males and females
  - it is wajib (obligatory) for males and makrumah (honourable) for females.
The Syafii school of thought, which is practised by the majority of Malay Muslims in Singapore, base their opinion of female circumcision on Surah An-Nahl (16:123): So We have taught thee the inspired (Message), “Follow the ways of Abraham the True in Faith, and he joined not gods with God.”

Instead of placing emphasis on the main message of the Abrahamic faith, which is the oneness of Allah, the Syafii school of thought places it on the culture of circumcision which was practiced at the time. Thus, it is important to note that the Quran makes no reference at all to female circumcision.

Many Muslims and academics also confirm that the practice is not rooted in religion but rather in culture. “When one considers that the practice does not prevail and is much condemned in countries like Saudi Arabia…it becomes clear that the notion that it is an Islamic practice is a false one,” Haseena Lockhat, a child clinical psychologist wrote in her book, Female Genital Mutilation: Treating the Tears (2004).

The practice has also been actively condemned by Muslim religious leaders and scholars worldwide, including former President of al-Azhar University in Egypt President Ahmad Omar Hashim and former Grand Mufti of Egypt Ali Gomaa, Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Husayni al-Sistani in Iraq, Muhammad Lutfi al-Sabbagh in Saudi Arabia, and many other notable religious scholars.

During a presentation at the International Conference of Scholars on the Prohibition of FGM in November 2006, prominent cleric Yusuf Al-Qaradawi explained that ahadith which include the topic of FGM are weak and unreliable. He later issued a fatwa that stated that “[Female circumcision] enters into the aspect of changing God’s creation which is a work of the devil and it is not permitted by God.”

The hadith that is most commonly used to support female circumcision is a hadith recorded by Imam Abu Dawud: A woman used to perform circumcision in Medina. The Prophet said to her: Do not cut severely as that is better for a woman and more desirable for a husband.

However, even Imam Abu Dawud, the very collector of this hadith, has declared that the chain of transmission is not strong and that it is not a direct quote from the Prophet, therefore making this hadith very weak and poor in authenticity.

Unfortunately, in Singapore, there are still doctors who offer this harmful practice in their private clinics. Will the Ministry of Health do something about it? Can we totally abolish female circumcision here in Singapore? Can we as Singaporeans condone such an act as inhumane? We need to do more than just writing articles and having an anti-FGM day. We need more women and men, mothers and fathers, to end this harmful practice within their own families and in Singapore.

Circumcision does not make a Muslim man and woman equal. Instead, what we should do is to uphold justice and equality in the family by ending these acts of violence against women.
23 February 2017
The Sacred Self

By Nurul Fadiah Johari

I have a memory of my little sister going through circumcision. It is all vague to me now. I was 4, and she was a baby. I only remember being brought over to the house of an old masseuse who provided my mother with post-natal care. I remember hearing my sister, who was 8 months old at the time, wailing loudly and then something was buried in a pot of soil outside my home. I had naively thought that my sister was born with a penis and had to be circumcised, just like male babies. Later, I learnt that this was not the case.

In The Hidden Face of Eve, El Saadawi documents the gory and painful practices of FGM in the Arab world. This can be compared to findings from the Malay world. Though the practices here are slightly different, it is still done with the oft-quoted intent of controlling female sexuality, or the presumption that it is a religious obligation. This is ironic, given that the term sunat, in Islamic textual traditions, actually means “something that is not obligatory”.

In Islam, the body is sacred. It is neither a source of temptation nor sin. It is an amanah, or trusteeship from God. It simply just means that as souls, we humans have been entrusted to honour and beautify the body. It means that any form of harm contravenes Islamic principles. Muslims celebrate beauty of creation by preserving and protecting it. Hence, as a Muslim woman, I believe that my body is sacred and thus I honour it by exercising my full agency as a human being.

There are too many taboos and misunderstandings which have been perpetuated within an increasingly conservative Muslim community. Nonetheless, I choose to remain optimistic through the work I do and the voices of young Muslims (especially women) that I hear from many parts of the world. Social media has made it easier to hear the voices of women, which has traditionally been silenced. We are living in the 21^st century after all. It is the age of youth and where the disempowered demand their voices be heard. One day, our collective prayers will be heard. And for that, I am thankful that changes will happen, one step at a time.

Read the other posts here: Sunat Perempuan blog series

6 February 2016
The Problem of Sunat Perempuan

By Filzah Sumartono

So I was talking to my friend the other day and I brought up the issue of sunat perempuan or female genital mutilation/cutting (FGM/C). And my friend seemed pretty nonchalant about it.

Yeah, well…it’s something that is done when the child is very young, all kids have to do it, right? – No, only Malay kids. – Yeah, okay, so what’s the problem? I think there are bigger problems out there.

Well, the problem to me is that sunat perempuan is something that does not need to be done. There’s no medical basis for it, it’s not something that is taught in medical school, there are no health benefits from it. By cutting the child, you’re taking away something from the child that is not yours to take in the first place. And all this because of some vague notion of “culture” or to “prevent promiscuity” or a misunderstanding of “religion” or a misunderstanding of how the female body works.

I recently found out that someone I know sent her infant daughter to be cut. My heart broke when I heard the news. It doesn’t matter if the procedure that is done in Singapore is “just a small cut” or “won’t hurt very much”. The very idea that something is wrong with female reproductive organs or that it is not good enough the way it is and that it has to be cut, reflects a deep-rooted idea that girls and women have to be controlled and subjected to many restrictions and etc.

Sunat perempuan is no different from other forms of violence against women. It is just one of the many ways society tries to control the female body, sexuality and being. In our Malay community, we begin the process at infancy. To not see it as a problem is to deny that this is part of a bigger picture of how society condones violence against women and removes women’s rights to live on their own terms.

Photo credit: Ruth Kolthof

Read the other posts here: Sunat Perempuan blog series

5 February 2016
The Pain of Remembering

By Zuby Eusofe

I was six years old when I was forced to undergo female genital mutilation (FGM) aka sunat perempuan. I was in a deep sleep and all of a sudden, I felt a sharp prick on my clitoris. I was shocked, clueless and traumatised. I didn’t know what was happening to me. When I opened my eyes, I saw my late mum, my aunt and an old lady, who seemed to be in her sixties, gathered around me. I was still wearing my baju kurung (Malay traditional clothes) but my underwear was gone. After putting me through that ordeal, they asked me to get up and try to walk in my clothes but without my underwear.

The thought of going through this so called “religious ritual” traumatized me for quite awhile. I remember having nightmares about it too.

I am relieved that more and more parents are saying no to FGM. Now that I have a son, I will educate him not to practice FGM when he has a daughter with his future family. This practice has to end. Even though there are still quite a handful of Muslim parents who practice the ritual just to please the elders, I think they should also prioritise their child’s well-being.

A recent study by Oxford University [1], suggests that babies feel pain just like adults. The researchers found that 18 of the 20 brain regions active in adults when they experienced pain were also active in babies. MRI scans also showed that babies’ brains had the same response to a weak ‘poke’ (of force 128mN) as adults did to a stimulus that was four times as strong (512mN) which actually suggests that babies have a much lower pain threshold.

Therefore, I believe that as parents we should not practise such traumatizing birth rituals. We should strive to abolish the practice of FGM for the sake of our next generation of daughters.

[1] http://www.ox.ac.uk/news/2015-04-21-babies-feel-pain-adults

Photo credit: Zuby Eusofe

Read the other posts here: Sunat Perempuan blog series

5 February 2016
My Body Is Not Mine – A Muslim woman’s commentary on body autonomy

By Zarifah Anuar

When I was two weeks old, my mother handed me over to her bidan (traditional midwife), my grand-aunt, to be circumcised. She did not witness the procedure, and did not know exactly what was done to me. To her, the sunat was an act that all Muslims, regardless of gender, had to go through. It wasn’t up for discussion or debate. It was a non-issue to her, and it should be a non-issue to me too.

I didn’t know I had been circumcised until more than twenty-three years later, when a colleague asked me if I had gone through the procedure. I answered, very confidently, that I would know if I had. I knew my body. Years of struggling with my own body shape, skin colour and facial features had taken a toll on me, but at the end of the day, I knew my body.

“You should ask your mother,” she told me.

I did, and there is a part of me that regrets asking, because I now know just how much my body is not mine. From birth, or perhaps even before that, it was never mine. It belongs to God, the Creator.

Or at least, that is what religious leaders and my parents tell me. I, however, call bullshit.

My body does not belong to God. My body belongs to their perception of God. My body, and their mutilation and policing of it, is part and parcel of their desire to control the female body.

They hide this under many guises, all in the name of God: sunat will make you cleaner, purer, less susceptible to sin, more able to be His servant. When you cover your skin from the eyes of men, you will appear more beautiful in the eyes of God. Lower your gaze and your voice, that way you will be His humble follower.

When you read deeper into the meaning of these messages, it translates into: you are a woman, this is how you will look, this is how you will behave. You will listen and follow because centuries of male leadership has made our community know nothing else but patriarchy and the control of women to feed the male need to dominate and have power.

God doesn’t tell women to be less. Islam doesn’t tell women to be less. Prophet Muhammad himself was surrounded by many strong, assertive women. It is patriarchy and the men who uphold it to this day that tell women to be less, so that they will be familiar with being nothing more than second to men; so that they will not question the norms that have been forced upon them.

I don’t know what was taken from me when I was two weeks old, but I do know that it was without my consent. What would a two-week old infant know, much less understand, about the world around her? An infant that age is barely even able to lift her own head.

“Did I cry?” I asked my mother when she told me that I had undergone the sunat at two weeks old. “Was I asleep? Did I wake up?”

My mother didn’t answer and instead told me that the conversation was over.

I refuse to accept that this conversation is over. Our community insists on owning the bodies of girls and women instead of allowing us to make our own decisions. Sunat marks the start of others deciding and policing what happens to our bodies. From then on some of us are forced into the hijab long before puberty, and we are judged and criticised based on what we choose to wear. Our autonomy over our bodies is restricted, at times even taken away from us.

I want to keep talking about what was taken away from me more than twenty-three years ago. Physically, I will never know what exactly it was, but symbolically it is my ownership over my body, and I will not stop fighting for it.

Photo credit: Ruth Kolthof

Read the other posts here: Sunat Perempuan blog series

4 February 2016
Leave Them Alone

By Zubaida Ali

When my daughters were born, I made the decision not to have them circumcised. Female circumcision is one of the most puzzling birth rituals in Muslim society. It has no health or aesthetic value whatsoever.

Circumcision was usually performed by a traditional midwife but now it is performed by a medical doctor at the clinic for a fee. Typically, parents will have it done on their baby one month after birth and like all surgical procedures, it endangers the infant to the risk of infection, pain and trauma.

Before I made the decision to cut or not to cut, I asked my friends and searched the internet for legitimacy. Why, where and how was this done, I couldn’t find any valid answers. Then I turned to the one place where Muslims go to for answers, the Holy Qur’an. To my surprise there are no verses supporting it in the Qur’an. There’s only a vague hadith about male circumcision.

Yet female circumcision is accepted and performed by all Muslim families I know like a sacred duty. It is even suprising for me to discover that it varies with different sects of Muslims all over the world, and with different degrees of severity. From a pinprick to show blood to removal of the clitoral hood (which is what is done in Singapore) to having major parts of the labia removed like in some parts of Africa and Middle East.

I will require more validity from theological and medical sources before I hand over my child for such a procedure.

As a Muslim and a mother, my reason for not allowing my child to undergo the procedure is why would Allah create an imperfect human body? Why would Allah create a body that requires the tampering and removal of anything so natural?

My two girls now live freely and uncut, and I have never regretted my decision to not violate their bodies for a cultural practice that has no place or validity in a our rational society. Just say no to female circumcision.

Photo credit: Zubaida Ali

Read the other posts here: Sunat Perempuan blog series

3 February 2016
Let’s Talk About “Sunat Perempuan”

By Afiqa Ab Rahman

Recently I attended a workshop where participants from Singapore, Malaysia, India, and Thailand shared their experiences and discussed about Female Genital Mutilation (FGM). Variations of the term include Female Genital Cutting (FGC) or “Sunat Perempuan”.

It was intriguing to hear the experiences and research findings from various countries. But what intrigued me the most was to find that FGM was not considered a problem in some countries. The participants from Thailand, for example, shared that 100% of their women have been cut as it is seen as an identity marker of being Pattani Malay and nobody questioned it.

From speaking to women, the researcher from Malaysia offered some reasons that were given on why FGM is done. She explained that some mothers thought that it was an empowering choice for the mother to decide on her daughter’s circumcision because it wasn’t the father’s or any male family members who decided. A participant from India opposed this “empowering choice” concept. What I understood from her comment was that patriarchy was to blame for having women internalise FGM as “ideas of women” and think that the choices they make for their daughters are empowering. I couldn’t agree more.

In my opinion, what is empowering is accepting that your daughter has personal agency and that they can choose what to do (or not) to their bodies. What is empowering is also to have the courage to question the practice.

Personally, I had been cut as a child. In fact, all the women in my family have been cut. The doctor used a sharp knife to nick my clitoral hood. And in all honesty, if I hadn’t asked my mother whether I was circumcised, I wouldn’t have known. I thought my vulva showed no signs of circumcision. When I asked my mother why she had me circumcised, she explicitly stated that it was to “decrease my libido“ –the very same reason why all the women in my family have gotten circumcised.

Let’s think about this – as a woman, and as a mother, does that sound right? Doesn’t nicking the clitoral hood, expose it to external stimulations? How would it “decrease the libido”? Isn’t it also very patronizing that the reason for circumcision is to prevent girls from “becoming promiscuous and going astray”? And if the purpose of circumcision is to decrease women’s libido, what is being done to decrease men’s libido?

I think what we should be doing is not just accept this practice without questioning. Why is “sunat perempuan” so shameful to discuss and deemed a taboo? I think it’s about time people are open to discussing this so as to decide whether it’s really beneficial and necessary. This could save people a lot of money (from not having to pay for the procedure). And in some countries, it could save many lives too.

Read the other posts here: Sunat Perempuan blog series

2 February 2016
International Day of Zero Tolerance from Female Genital Mutilation (FGM)
In commemoration of International Day of Zero Tolerance from Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) on 6 February, Beyond the Hijab ran a 6-part series of blog posts by women living in Singapore about their thoughts and reflections on the practice of female circumcision in Singapore.
Information and resources on sunat perempuan in Singapore

Video/Infographic
Reading materials
2 February 2016