Article 9: The Web of Autonomy: Exploring Women’s Bodily Autonomy in the 21st Century
Sarah Brown
The fight for women’s bodily autonomy has been a topic widely discussed within feminist circles, and has been gaining media attention in specific issues such as the right to have an abortion. However, the abortion debate has overshadowed a much larger problem that spans the globe. Bodily autonomy is not simply confined to the abortion debate. Instead, it stems from a lack of choice and the ability for women to decide what they would, and would not, prefer to do with their bodies. In this sense, we can see that a lack of bodily autonomy is present in nearly every aspect of women’s lives across the world, and close to home in Canada. Women have shared many similar stories, especially in the cases of marginalized women. The stories told by Indigenous women in Canada of forced sterilization are reminiscent of those told by women living under the one child policy in China. When discussing women’s bodily autonomy, we must also bring transgendered women into the narrative, and consider how they have been lobbied against for having the power of choice when it comes to their gender. In this essay, I will be taking examples to better frame a lack of bodily autonomy from various countries, such as India and Ghana, which have been deemed as problematic in the scope of women’s rights. These countries have been faced with a great deal of scrutiny when considering women’s bodily autonomy in both a historical and modern context. Additionally, I will also be using examples from western countries, which have manifested their own problems in bodily autonomy and are often not regarded as an autonomy related issue. The seemingly simple choices that women make about their bodies every day have been heavily subjected to the influences of a dominant patriarchy, which raises the question: do women really have bodily autonomy?
Traditionally, we tend to think of bodily autonomy as a restrictive term that only applies to a few situations and contains a direct link to an individual, rather than a collective group. In this case, the “link” is how an issue is directly impacting a person’s right to control decisions made about their body. For example, many issues have been brought up regarding bodily autonomy, especially over the last two years with the progression of the Covid-19 pandemic. There has been fervent debate over whether or not vaccine and mask mandates are infringing upon the freedom of bodily autonomy in North America. However, the concept of bodily autonomy spreads far beyond this idea of having a direct link to an individual right to their bodies. Instead, groups with high socioeconomic power enforce dominance upon groups of a lower status, which then influences the decision-making of the lower status population. These decisions may seem as simple as deciding how to style your hair on a particular morning. However, that decision was likely to be heavily impacted by the styles worn by celebrities and social media influencers, and is part of the larger narrative to keep up with current trends. For the purpose of this essay, I will be referring to this as an “indirect link” to bodily autonomy.
While it does not encompass the entirety of bodily autonomy issues within feminist circles, the abortion debate must be addressed. Fears of losing the right to have a safe abortion have begun creeping into the minds of Canadian women with recent developments in the United States, wherein women are slowly losing access to abortions (Singiser et al., 2018). However, access to safe abortions is not subject to North America alone. Women around the world can share in the struggle of gaining access to adequate reproductive care. In Africa, women face a constant struggle to have their reproductive rights recognized as women’s freedom to make decisions of their bodies. An astounding 45% of abortions are considered unsafe, meaning that they were performed without the care of a licensed professional (Agula, et al., 2021). In fact, most deaths associated with unsafe abortions have occurred in Africa, with “…460 deaths per 100’000 unsafe abortions…” (Agula, et al., 2021). There are a great number of causes for these statistics, some of which have been the product of colonialism. The people of Ghana have been subjected to intense colonial practices for centuries, including slavery and indoctrination by the Christian church. Some may argue that colonial practices are still ongoing in some of the regions where Christianity is still the dominant religion, as the work of missionaries has been heavily debated. In Ghana, their modern stances on abortion and abortion laws have been derived from those of colonial England (Agula, et al., 2021). Abortion has been legal under certain circumstances in Ghana since a 1985 law was passed, allowing women the access to safe abortion in cases of sexual violence or incest (Agula, et al., 2021). Despite efforts being made in this issue, many feminists would argue that these laws are still restrictive of women’s bodily autonomy. For women around the world, having a lack of abortion rights has become a form of keeping control over the bodies of women, as well as ensuring the continued elevation of human populations. Marxist and Socialist Feminists may view this issue from the perspective of women as producing future labourers by forcing women to keep unwanted pregnancies. By outlawing abortions, or making it circumstantial, those in power can guarantee the continued production of labourers. Many of these unwanted pregnancies will grow up in homes where they will become unskilled workers, and are exploited more easily. In this way, governments and corporations benefit through the production of marginalized children. Clearly, they have continued to perpetuate a long history of female deaths as a result of unsafe abortions, signaling a disturbing priority of future labour force over the lives of women.
While many are quick to advocate for a pro-life stance on abortion, there are very few who will ever advocate with the same fervor for women’s access to contraception. Adequate access to contraception and family planning strategies have been a large historical issue for women mostly in underdeveloped countries. Women’s contraception is still highly stigmatized, and emphasis on contraception tends to fall on either condom use or chemical birth control in most sexual health classes (Campo-Engelstein, 2012). Despite these groups often highlighting condom use, contraceptive use often falls to the responsibility of women for a number of reasons, including men’s sexual pleasure. As a result, women must often sacrifice their mental and physical health to prevent unwanted pregnancy. Chemical contraception for women has garnered accessibility issues, as some women may be unable to afford contraception in countries where it is not covered by social programs (Campo-Engelstein, 2012). In addition, one study found that 45.45% of DMPA injection users avoid daily birth control pills because they feared they would forget to take the medication (Al-Ghashri, F., et al., 2021). Furthermore, the same study found that women tended to make their decisions regarding contraception based upon the experiences and recommendations of female friends (Al-Ghashri, F., et al., 2021). For women in these studies, they trusted their friends more than medical professionals, which indicates a broader problem with how we address women’s healthcare.
When condoms are well-known to be highly effective in preventing pregnancy, hormonal birth control continues to be a main method of contraception in many relationships. Yet we often fail to discuss women who cannot gain access to contraception even when they need it, generally for fear of social sanctioning. Contraception is legal in nearly every part of the world, but this does not mean that it is encouraged amongst all societies. Negative social sanctioning against women who use birth control has become part of the web of women’s bodily autonomy issues (Campo-Engelstein, 2012). Stigma surrounding contraception has the ability to prevent and dissuade women from choosing to use contraception, even when it is available to them. Once again, Africa has been at the center of women’s reproductive health studies. One study found that women were much more likely to stop using hormonal contraception if they were unhappy with the results or side effects (Ayorinde, A., et al., 2021). The same study also reflects upon how women living in rural areas, particularly those with lower education, have been impacted by a lack of information regarding their choices for birth control (Ayorinde, A. et al., 2021). Misinformation surrounding contraception use in rural Africa has been the result of a lack of government support and resources. Many groups in Africa abide by the laws of strict patriarchies, which believe that women should have as many children as possible to elevate the status of fathers (Rupnarain, K., 2020). In addition, having many children can be of great benefit to a rural community by providing labour support both domestically and economically.
While on the surface level these women have the right to choose hormonal contraception, along with other methods, this choice is effectively removed when they must risk social deviancy, and subsequent rejection, within their communities. Additionally, groups that have been impacted by colonialism are likely to share the religious ideologies of early European settlers, wherein contraception has been frowned upon, especially by the Catholic church (Addo-Fening, 2013). This raises questions about how we should go about educating women in Africa on family planning and contraception without infringing upon cultural values. In reality, women in the west cannot make the decision for African women to gain bodily autonomy without embodying the “white saviour” complex, a concept popularized by Teju Cole in 2012 (Cole, 2012). In this instance, the “white saviour” may attempt to save African women from the harmful consequences of the patriarchy, while simultaneously promoting racial superiority of white people by dismantling traditional African cultures in the process (Cole, 2012). Instead, we should be giving more attention to the African women who are already fighting for women’s sexual education on the continent. These women are far more qualified to walk the line between preserving culture and making progression for African women than anyone in the west.
In India, many women have become the victims of the Sati ritual, with an estimated 1000 women dying alongside their deceased husbands annually during the 15th to 18th centuries (Jain, 2012). This ritual is a death rite intended for wives to show their devotion to their husbands by throwing themselves upon the burial pyres of their deceased husbands, effectively burning themselves alive (Jain, 2018). The ritual has heavily diverted from its original intention (Jain, 2018). Sati is an ancient practice performed by some cultural groups in India, dating back to ancient civilizations that practiced the laws of Stridharma (Ahmad, 2008). Under these laws, women were expected to live solely for her husband, and were expected to serve him both physically and spiritually (Ahmad, 2008). While Sati is considered to be ancient and abhorrent by many modern Indians, there have still been instances in recent years. In 1987, Roop Kanwar was forced to burn along with her deceased husband by a group of locals, yet her case was never brought to justice, as with many others (Ahmad, 2008). The continuation of the Sati ritual is amongst one of the most disturbing forms of violence against women in the modern world, as it is part of a religious system rather than a random act of hatred. However, Sati has been fought against for centuries by numerous political leaders in India, along with European occupational leaders, and a formal commission against it was instated following the death of Roop Kanwar (Ahmad, 2008).
It is not totally known whether or not Sati continues to this day. A lack of legal records makes it difficult to determine if there have been additional cases following the tragic death of Roop Kanwar, leaving scholars such as Ahmad, N. (2008) only able to speculate the numbers. However, it is likely that there are cases that go unreported in the 21st century, as orthodox religious groups in India have been known to hail Kanwar as a deity, similarly to a Catholic achieving sainthood (Ahmad, 2008). Such beliefs would only act as encouragement for those within the orthodox faiths to practice Sati, sacrificing their own female family members, or perhaps even themselves to the dead men. Furthermore, the outlawing of Sati hasn’t worked effectively to prevent it, as Ahmad (2008) emphasizes. Instead, the ancient ritual may have become a secretive practice amongst closed communities, as it seems unlikely that not a single case has occurred since that of Roop Kanwar, when the same religious sects that condemned her to death persist today.
Perhaps the most heated discussion within the topic of women’s bodily autonomy is the infamous hijab debate. This topic must be approached with a certain level of caution and impartiality, as there are a seemingly endless number of factors that are at play when determining the level of bodily autonomy that Muslim women have. To begin, some groups in western countries, such as the United States and Canada, have come to view the hijab as a symbol of women’s oppression in Islamic countries. On the other side of the debate, many Muslim women openly state that their hijab is a sign of their devotion to Allah, and is a religious choice made freely. Both parties have valid points, yet there is a fundamental lack of understanding between the two groups, stemming from broad cultural differences. In the west, we tend to only explore other religions through the lens of our own media, rather than learning from practitioners of the faith itself. As a result, we are constantly being exposed to events taking place in countries which enforce the wearing of the hijab or niqab, such as Afghanistan, while completely disregarding countries such as Morocco that give women the freedom of choice. The western argument against the mandatory veiling of women in some Islamic countries is valid in the scope of bodily autonomy, but has been heavily misused by Islamophobes to create a false narrative that all women who wear a hijab or niqab are oppressed.
A Quebec minister, Isabelle Charest, claimed that hijabs were oppressing Muslim women, while also contradicting her previous statement by saying, “My values are that a woman should be free to wear what she wants to wear or not wear” (Montreal Gazette, 2019). If Charest truly believed that women should be able to make a free choice to wear whatever she wants, she would not be simultaneously pushing to ban religious symbols – particularly the hijab – in Quebec. Yet, Charest does highlight an important issue within the Muslim community: choice. If Canada were to enforce a total ban on the wearing of religious symbols such as the hijab, it would be a violation of bodily autonomy in its most basic understanding. Additionally, it continues a cycle of oppression against marginalized religious groups by reinforcing a white, nationalist Canadian identity. If we were to reverse the situation by using legal power to force women to wear a hijab, this would also infringe upon women’s bodily autonomy. In the end, giving women the ability to choose and make informed decisions regarding their own dress allows women to have the freedom of expression. Additionally, religious symbols such as the hijab have the ability to become part of the women’s empowerment movement by asserting that true empowerment comes from a place of inclusivity.
Across the world, women’s fashion and beauty choices have been subjected to a range of factors, including trends and culture. However, we often forget that beauty standards have been set by men in power. In recent years, feminists have begun taking to social media to express their bodily autonomy by sporting body hair (Kale, 2020). Some have even shown off “fashionable” ways to wear their body hair, such as styling it in a certain shape, or even dying it with bright colours. I use the term fashionable in a loose sense. This is because the ability for women to choose how they wear their body hair – or none at all – has been predetermined for them by patriarchal standards. There are clear differences across the world that signal this. White women are considerably more likely to remove pubic and underarm hair than racialized women, and this has been even more predominant in younger generations (Obst et al., 2019). The removal of body hair may be expressed as being part of the illusion of having bodily autonomy. According to Obst et al. (2019), many of the women who believed that their intimate body hair was a personal choice also felt that it was disgusting and unsanitary to have and, above all, “…sexually unattractive…” (pg. 2). So, why do racialized women not feel the same? Despite the fact that white women have a racial dominance over women of colour, they are not the primary decision makers when it comes to beauty and sexual attractiveness. Rather, this proves that men hold and maintain the power to influence how women choose to react to their own body hair, as well as the body hair of other women. The choices women make regarding their body hair has always been tied to feminist concerns, and many modern feminists have been making the decision to keep their body hair as a sign of resistance (Obst et al., 2019).
We cannot broaden the discussion around women’s bodily autonomy without including all women. Most often, the voice that is either forgotten or purposely left out of some feminist circles is that of transgendered women. Trans women have been discriminated against heavily both in legislature and social media over the last few decades. Around the world, trans women continue to fight for basic recognition of their identity and the ability to create a body that allows them to fully express their true selves, through both clothing choices and gender reassignment procedures. However, there are still very few places in the world where trans women can feel both safe and accepted. Legislation against transgendered women in the west has been rising dramatically. An article by CNN reports that the number of anti-transgendered bills introduced in the United States has risen from 19 in 2015 to a staggering 117 in 2021 (CNN Politics, 2021). Furthermore, the majority of legislation has been aimed at targeting transgendered minors, by limiting their access to gender-affirming medical care and preventing them from participating in some gendered sports (CNN Politics, 2021). This type of harmful legislation completely removes the ability for transgendered youth to have power over their own bodily autonomy, and to make decisions for themselves. Transgendered girls may be at higher risk of discrimination caused by such legislation in schools, as traditional concepts of masculinity frown upon male deviancy from gender more strongly than it does for females. In response, transgendered girls may face harsher social sanctions, including bullying by peers and a lack of support from school administrations.
Children are still being raised within a patriarchal system, where boys are taught the values of masculinity from an early age. A study conducted in 2016 attempted to discover how modern children interact with gendered stereotypes through social essentialism. According to the article, by the time children attend pre-school they are already making gender-based assumptions to help them navigate how they interact in social situations (Meyer, M. & Gelman, S., 2016). When it comes to gender, essentialism causes children to form judgements and conduct themselves in accordance with their own gendered beliefs, which stem from a learned system of behaviours as they grow to mature (Meyer, M. & Gelman, S., 2016). When we consider concepts of masculinity in young boys, their sense of essentialism works to enhance the gender norms they were raised with. In response, boys may have adverse reactions to other boys, or transgendered girls, defying their notions of gender essentialism, such as wearing feminine clothing. It may be argued that boy’s sense of gender essentialism may be stronger than girls, wherein boys are often raised to believe that masculinity is a permanent trait that must never be deviated from. It must be recognized that young boys are not the root of the issue when it comes to discrimination against transgendered girls in school. Instead, they are the product of a socio ecological model which employs gender essentialism itself, and thus passes such traits on to young children.
Women’s choices are constantly being influenced by a larger sociological body, and the results do not always reflect their unique needs. However, we cannot simply start by claiming that all choices that women make are invalid, as this would only contribute to an ongoing problem of bodily autonomy. Instead, we can use feminism as a valuable tool to give women the power of an educated choice, free from the criticisms of society. Women’s bodily autonomy is not restricted to being an issue centered only in feminist circles. It affects all women across the globe. Having true bodily autonomy means removing legal barriers for women, particularly in Africa to accessing reproductive care and allowing transgendered women and girls a life without fear or lack of mobility. Granting women full bodily autonomy is not a process that is quick, nor painless. We must remember all of the women from around the world who have risked and lost their lives so that others may one day have freedom. Legislation that limits women’s bodily autonomy must be changed, and social attitudes that perpetuate a lack of autonomy must be dismantled. Only to that end, do women have bodily autonomy.
References
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Agula, C., et al. (2021). Methods women use for induced abortion and sources of services: Insights from poor urban settlements of Accra, Ghana. BMC Women’s Health, 21(1), 1-12. https://doi.org/10.1186/s12905-021-01444-9.
Ahmad, N. (2008). Dying for the Dead: A Socio-Legal Examination of Sati in India. Asia-Pacific Journal on Human Rights and the Law, 9(2), 1-10.
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Authier, P. (2019). Quebec minister for women stands by belief that hijabs are oppressive. Montreal Gazette. https://montrealgazette.com/news/quebec/quebec-minister-for-women-stands-by-belief-that-hijabs-are-oppressive
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Authors’ Bio: Sarah was born in Newfoundland, Canada and moved to Thompson, MB at the age of five. From a young age, Sarah was taught the importance of education in personal growth and accomplishment. She is majoring in history in the Bachelor of Arts program at UCN, beginning her academic journey in 2019. Her goal is to become a social historian, focusing on the everyday lives and sociopolitical structures of populations in the past. Through her work in “The Web of Autonomy”, Sarah hopes to emphasize the importance of recording modern sociopolitical structures around the world for future historians, as well as to bring awareness to existing systems of inequality.
Instructor Remarks: I would describe Sarah as a natural academic. Her insightful perspectives are filled with investigative inquiry and deep analysis. As illustrated from her article, Sarah’s critical evaluation of intersectional aspects to feminism and societal limitations on an individual’s body autonomy is timely. It is a significant contribution within the current and on-going feminist and human rights discourse. I am thrilled her work will be available for others to read. Thank you to Muses of the North editors for their continuous dedication and support. It would not be possible without them—Professor Noreen Barlas.