As the plane touched down in Thailand, I received the check-in email for my journey back home. Despite the 11-hour flight, I could only stay one day. I had a wedding to officiate upon my return.
As a “freelance rabbi” (meaning not the head of a synagogue), I serve in a few capacities. I help people join the Jewish religion, I help them marry, and I’m a mohel (ritual circumciser), performing the sacred ritual of brit milah (circumcision) in Israel and around the world. The latter was the purpose of my visit to the Far East.
I make these trips regularly because many places in the world don’t have a resident mohel, and if I didn’t go, the mitzvah would not be fulfilled. But trips such as these have become more complicated of late.
Much of the recent news coverage about circumcision has been negative—from Robert F. Kennedy Jr. linking the practice to autism to new data indicating declining rates. Researchers at Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine report that neonatal circumcision rates have fallen since 2010 to below 50% for the first time. This number has been in decline since its peak of 80% to 85% in the 1980s. This may seem staggering to some, given how widespread the procedure has been. But for those of us who’ve been following the topic, this downturn seems almost inevitable.
There has been a protracted war fought on the backs of babes for some years now. Many fringe groups around the world are deeply committed to ending the practice of neonatal circumcision. The largest is known as the Intactivists. They have chapters throughout the United States and abroad. But they are not alone. Other groups, such as the Bloodstained Men & Their Friends, can be seen picketing around the continental United States in white outfits with red crotches.
My first interaction with the anti-circumcision movement was disturbing. I shared an article detailing the supposed “16 functions of the foreskin.” This is apparently a doctrine of this group. My post read: “It’s not a pocket knife. I’m pretty sure it only has two functions.”
Unbeknownst to me at the time, these groups tout the benefits of the foreskin, such as protecting from sunburn and frostbite. The response to my post was an unabating social-media storm. The vitriol the respondents poured out was downright frightening. I was called a rapist, a pedophile; some even called for my life. I deleted the post. I didn’t know what else to do.
Over time, I began intentionally engaging these armchair warriors. As it turns out, most of the members are women and are angrier than the men who were so-called “victims” of the crime. Their MO is to troll unsuspecting parents who proudly post about their son’s recent procedure or happy occasion and proceed to spew nonstop hate in the comments until the parents delete the post, just as I did.
Since that first foray into this world, I’ve spent a great deal of time fighting for the protection of the practice. I’ll admit that advocating for brit milah is an uphill battle. It’s easy to persuade people against the perceived injury of a newborn, especially the unindoctrinated. But like most modern debates, education is key.
Those who oppose circumcision greatly exaggerate certain facts while ignoring others. All reputable practitioners use some forms of pain management, greatly reducing the baby’s discomfort; circumcision has been shown to reduce the risk of UTIs as a neonate and STDs later in life. Additionally, there is no conclusive evidence of a significant decrease in sensation. And, no, circumcision does not cause autism.
I watched as the movement gained momentum. The New Yorker began running regular pieces denouncing circumcision, and recently, even Esquire magazine has joined the chorus. The most prominent anti-circumcision story was Gary Shteyngart’s personal essay about his botched circumcision. The length and explicit detail of the article are not for the squeamish.
If this had been where the story ended, it would have been concerning, though not a cause for alarm. However, after outlawing Jewish ritual slaughter, many European countries began the movement to ban circumcision. One of the major battles in this ongoing war was an explosive case in Ireland during the summer of 2024, when a visiting mohel from the United Kingdom was arrested and denied bail. During his detention, the mohel, a rabbi himself, was refused kosher food and phylacteries (necessary for traditional prayer). He was ultimately released on bail, but the case is still awaiting trial.
This fight has implications beyond the babies in question. If these countries succeed in outlawing circumcision, then they have, in effect, banished the Jewish communities in their midst. What seems highly debatable in a secular context has close to unanimous agreement in the religious sphere. Jews continue the practice at rates of 95%, irrespective of observance level. There is no equal in our tradition.
To be denied access to the ritual is untenable in our eyes. For this reason, even if the laws were to change, ritual circumcisers such as myself would still travel to the ends of the world to help families in need. Brit milah has been our national identity marker for more than 3,000 years. Jews have died preserving the practice—and to stop now would be akin to spitting on their graves.
