Returning to Toronto a week
ago we walked right into a raging storm. Though it had nothing to do with
weather, it was a storm that created considerable turbulence, nevertheless. The
disturbance came out of the dusty corners of academic research located
within a Canadian university department of history. Results of this research
were published recently in the journal, Social History in a paper entitled “Administering
Colonial Science: Nutrition Research and Human Biomedical Experimentation in
Aboriginal Communities and Residential Schools, 1942–1952”
The
author, Ian Mosby, was a postdoctoral student when he went through records of
the Canadian scientific and administrative elite of the era and discovered how
they were trying out ideas on the treatment of malnutrition in Aboriginal
children held captive in so-called residential schools. Children attending the
schools were kept on a starvation diet of poor nutritional quality and ended up
being severely malnourished. The scientists, doctors, nurses, anthropologists,
etc saw these children as an opportunity to advance their careers, subjecting
the starving children to controlled experiments in which one group was given
nutritional supplements whilst another was maintained only on the starvation
diet that had caused them to be malnourished in the first place. And all this
was done neither with the consent of the parents nor the agreement of the
experimental subjects themselves, and ignoring the risk of potential injury to
them. To add to the indignities and anguish of the defenceless children, the
researchers undertook detailed physical examinations and blood sampling
procedures that were obviously painful.
Curiously,
all this was taking place at the same time that the infamous Tuskegee
experiment was in full swing in America. That project, undertaken by the United
States Public Health Service, had as its aim, determining the natural history
of untreated syphilis among African-American men in Alabama at a time when
treatment for the disease was already available.
In
circumstances like this, it may be difficult to distinguish Canadian social
policies towards its subject population from the Americans’ to theirs. Nor can
it be easy to distinguish those of colonial Britain in Africa who, as far as I
can recall, sought neither the consent of my parents nor my prior agreement
when they descended on my village in the late 1940’s to test its children for
malaria parasites (I think) in our infant school. All I can remember is the
terror that we felt when the bowl-hatted characters arrived at the school,
lancets drawn, to administer punctures and squeeze blood out of our little fingers.
The general weeping and wailing that accompanied this assault on our persons
remains permanently imprinted on the memory.
And I still
feel the pain.
Tell
Fren Tru