Conclusion

The advocacy of Kandara mothers and female MPs highlights the importance of viewing women as political agents within this context. Their calls for political action, if not legislation, reflect an unprecedented public engagement with issues of violence, safety, and hygiene, which serve as forms of power in the discourse governing both male circumcision and FGM/C. This chapter argues that assertions of defending bodily integrity, and the rights of individuals, must consider the intricate dynamics of gender politics, particularly as they relate to the localised, community-impacting force of these laws.

Wendy Brown’s (1995) notion of ‘wounded attachments’ is useful in this context. It critiques the framing of political identities around victimhood or injury, arguing that such approaches can inadvertently harm those they aim to represent. When the anti-FGM/C movement labels those who have undergone genital cutting as ‘survivors’ or ‘victims’, it raises questions about how this framing might justify or facilitate an expansion of state power over women and girls perceived as vulnerable. Brown highlights the problematic reliance on the state for addressing social injuries, warning that this can lead to an ‘ever-increasing reliance on the state for adjudication of social injury’ (Brown 1995:18).

This critique is particularly relevant to the legislation discussed in this chapter. Brown’s argument invites us to consider how laws regulating genital cutting might align with her insights on how injury discourse expands state influence over marginalised populations – in this case, young adolescents in Kenya. She argues that state power has increasingly extended its reach not through traditional centralisation but via mechanisms such as deregulation, privatisation, and the outsourcing of governance functions, which align with neoliberal forms of power (Brown 1995). These strategies, characterised by decentralisation, self-regulation, surveillance, and incentivisation of discipline (Brown 1995; Harvey 2005), enable a diffuse yet pervasive form of governance.

This chapter examines how Kenyan mothers have become politically active in debates on the initiation of their sons – a space previously dominated by male elders. Their involvement reflects broader dynamics, including the influence of the WHO in shaping Kenya’s public health agenda, the moralisation of VMMC messaging, constitutional devolution under the 2010 Constitution, and the proliferation of NGOs promoting human rights and bodily integrity. Also significant are historical interventions by mainstream churches into initiation practices, the resurgence of neo-traditional cultural associations, and the increased availability of medical and legal services.

Understanding the broader political context of Kenya’s 2011 and 2020 Acts is essential. Brown argues that framing certain groups, such as girls and women subjected to FGM/C, as victims often legitimises state interventions into intimate spaces. Such actions can expand state sovereignty over the bodies of those it seeks to protect, challenging traditional structures like lineage, clan, and ethnicity. This is evident in Kenya, where criminalisation has paradoxically driven FGM/C underground, leading to the proliferation of clandestine clinics in regions such as Kisii and Meru (Christoffersen-Deb 2005; Muchui 2024).1 Muchui (2024). David Muchui, ‘Concern in Meru as male circumcision parties spur on FGM’, Daily Nation, Nairobi, 15 August. https://nation.africa/kenya/news/gender/concern-in-meru-as-male-circumcision-parties-spur-on-fgm-4724976 [Accessed 13 November 2025]. The zero-tolerance approach, combined with limited access to medicalised circumcision, has exacerbated the very issues these laws were intended to resolve.

Global political influences, including the WHO’s emphasis on health and safety, further complicate Kenya’s regulatory landscape. For example, the 2020 Act, which promotes the medicalisation of male circumcision through trained practitioners, aligns with the WHO’s public health priorities. However, it fails to address deeper issues such as gender-based violence during Kenyan ‘circumcision seasons’. Court records reveal significant concerns about consent and sexual abuse in these contexts, yet public discourse often overlooks these issues. This silence has bolstered neo-traditional councils of elders, intensifying conflicts with churches over control of initiation rituals and mentorship roles for young men, thereby deepening societal tensions.

The stark differentiation between ‘male circumcision’ and ‘FGM/C’ leads – as Brian Earp concludes – to moral occlusion, where entrenched biases blind individuals and groups to the social complexities and cultural nuances surrounding these issues. Polarised debates often result in a narrowing of perspectives, diminished empathy, selective moral reasoning, oversimplification of complex issues, and the creation of echo chambers that reinforce divisive views. These factors not only impede understanding but also pose significant challenges to constructive dialogue, making it increasingly difficult to navigate these controversial topics.

To foster an ethically consistent and decolonial approach, it is essential to bring male circumcision and FGM/C into a single analytical framework. Such an approach encourages a more comprehensive understanding of the ethical dilemmas at play, urging us to consider how the regulation of these practices impacts the very communities it aims to protect. Crucially, this framework must avoid the complacency of both cultural relativism, which can excuse harmful practices under the guise of defending culture, and ethnocentrism, which imposes external values without regard to local worldviews. By critically reflecting on the dynamics of state-level regulation and acknowledging the voices of mothers and local communities, those wishing to participate in debating genital cutting from a variety of differing perspectives can move towards a more nuanced and empathetic discourse that prioritises the well-being and rights of all individuals involved.