‘Listen, Dandelion. You’re fond of stories, aren’t you? I’ll tell you one – yes, one for El-ahrairah to cry at.

Once there was a fine warren on the edge of a wood, overlooking the meadows of a farm. It was big, full of rabbits. Then one day the white blindness came and the rabbits fell sick and died. But a few survived, as they always do. The warren became almost empty.

One day, the farmer though, “I could increase those rabbits, make them part of my farm – their meat, their skins. Why should I bother to keep rabbits in hutches? They’ll do very well where they are.” He began to shoot all elil – lendri, homba, stoat, owl. He put out food for the rabbits, but not too near the warren. For his purpose they had to become accustomed to going about in the fields and the wood. And then he snared them – not too many: as many as he wanted and not as many as would frighten them all away or destroy the warren.

They grew big and strong and healthy, for he saw to it that they had all of the best, particularly in winter, and nothing to fear – except the running knot in the hedge-gap and the wood-path. So they lived as he wanted them to live and all the time there were a few who disappeared.

The rabbits became strange in many ways, different from other rabbits. They knew well enough what was happening. But even to themselves they pretended that all was well, for the food was good, they were protected, they had nothing to fear but the one fear; and that struck here and there, never enough at a time to drive them away.

They forgot the ways of wild rabbits. They forgot El-ahrairah, for what use had they for tricks and cunning, living in the enemy’s warren and paying his price?

They found out other marvelous arts to take the place of tricks and old stories. They danced in ceremonious greeting. They sang songs like birds and made shapes on the walls; and though these could help them not at all, yet they passed the time and enabled them to tell themselves that they were splendid fellows, the very flower of Rabbitry, cleverer than magpies.

They had no Chief Rabbit – no, how could they? – for a Chief Rabbit must be El-ahrairah to his warren and keep them from death: and here there was no death but one, and what Chief Rabbit could have an answer to that?

Instead, Frith sent them strange singers, beautiful and sick like oak-apples, like robins’ pin-cushions on the wild rose. And since they could not bear the truth, these singers, who might in some other place have been wise, were squeezed under the terrible weight of the warren’s secret until they gulped out fine folly – about dignity and acquiescence, and anything else that could make believe that the rabbit loved the shining wire.

But one strict rule they had; oh yes, the strictest. No one must ever ask where another rabbit was and anyone who asked, “Where?” – except in a song or poem – must be silenced. To say “Where?” was bad enough, but to speak openly of the wires – that was intolerable. For that they would scratch and kill.’
___
Fra Watership Down, Richard Adams, 1972

Jeg blev for nylig spurgt, hvad jeg egentlig vil opnå, når jeg siger ting, som går imod en eller anden strømning. Jeg har tænkt over det, og foranlediget af den nys opblussede debat om omskærelse, ved jeg det nu: jeg vil oplyse. Egentlig må folk mene, hvad de vil, men det, der gør mig ærgerlig, er, når folk danner sig en sikker holdning uden at have sat sig bare en lille smule ind i tingene først. Og grunden til, at jeg irriteres over dette, er, at det er tegn på, at den almindelige dannelse her i landet er smuldrende.

For eksempel: hvis man vil have en mening om mandlig omskærelse - en ting, som er en fast del af mange menneskers kultur verden over - så kan man i det mindste vise den respekt at sætte sig ind i, hvad fænomenet hedder. Det hedder omskærelse. Ikke "omskæring". Og det betyder noget for mange, så hvis du skal forbyde andre mennesker at gøre noget, der er vigtigt for dem, så vis dem i det mindste den respekt først at lære, hvad det hedder.

Det ærgrer mig, at den berettigede forargelse over kvindelig omskærelse, som praktiseres i afrikanske u-lande på store piger uden bedøvelse og under uhygiejniske former, nu i ligestillingens navn har bredt sig til at gælde den fredelige og hurtigt overståede omskærelse af jødiske drengebørn. Det er den samme automatreaktion, der altid foregår, når nogen ønsker at kritisere fattige kulturers skikke: så kan vi altid finde noget, der ligner lidt, hvis vi forstørrer det 1000 gange op og lader være med at hænge os i detaljer, og som finder sted i USA blandt hvide mennesker.

Jeg er kristen dansker og synes derfor på sin vis, omskærelse er ret overflødig. Vi bruger ikke den slags og har nok svært ved at forstå, hvorfor det er nødvendigt. Men jeg synes, det er en grov overdrivelse, når der inden for 14 dage pludselig kan rejse sig en storm af indignation over jødisk omskærelse, og et absurd krav om, at man skal "vente til man er gammel nok" - m.a.o. vente indtil det bliver til et stort og kompliceret indgreb og ikke længere kan udføres som en religiøs overgangsrite i stil med vores dåb, men skal udføres på et hospital under bedøvelse og af kirurger.

Jeg vil gerne v.hj.a. YouTube vise, hvad forskellen er på kvindelig og mandlig omskærelse.
Her er billeder fra en bris (hvis du ikke kender det ord og alligevel har en holdning til det, så skam dig): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0abOGeR7AOo
Her er billeder fra kvindelig omskærelse (du kan roligt se det, det er fra The Guardian - det britiske svar på Politiken): www.youtube.com/watch?v=y0NuCMKaRpY
Så håber jeg, det i det mindste fremgår, at det ikke er helt det samme.

Hvis du skal kommentere på dette indlæg, vil jeg gerne bede om, at du gør dig umage - nu hvor jeg selv har vist _dig_ den respekt at gøre mig umage med mit - og ikke bare skriver: "Al religion er åndssvag og dumt!" eller "Omskæring er barbarisk og skal forbydes!"