A very modern pandemic: railways, colonial policy, the blood trade and their unintended consequences.
Waltner-Toews, David
The Origins of AIDS
Jacques Pepin
Cambridge University Press
293 pages, softcover
ISBN 9780521186377
WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT how AIDS got started? If you are neither a
specialist nor one of the many Canadians directly affected by the
disease, your answer will likely be couched in popular culture
references: "Hmmm ... Hit the headlines in the early 1980s as a
rare disease in homosexuals in San Francisco. Had probably been around
and started spreading a good deal earlier ... Canadian flight attendant
who picked it up somewhere in Africa on one of his flights--what was his
name? Patient Zero, some people called him." But was this flight
attendant even important? Did he bring something from Africa, or from
elsewhere? If from Africa, how did it get there, how long had it been
there and how did R begin Its deadly spread? These are questions that
specialists have studied now for three decades, but it has taken the
work of Jacques Pepin, an epidemiologist at the Universite de Sherbrooke
in Quebec, to lay out the full story with all its troubling implications
for the way medicine operates in today's world.
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This is a remarkable book, at once dense with information and
readable, a grand and compassionate exploration of the origins and
spread of HIV/AIDS. Based on exhaustive research, The Origins of AIDS
reads like a tragic novel, meticulously weaving together warehouses of
detailed scholarly data, narratives of colonial hubris and recollections
of personal experience. Pepin accomplishes all this with care for both
scholarship and language, without once slipping into ideology or rage,
always deferring to the evidence yet never once losing his humanity.
Several leading complexity theorists have argued that to deal with
simple problems, such as the structure of viruses, we can gather
laboratory "facts"; for more complicated issues, such as
creating vaccination programs, we can build mathematical and computer
models; but to understand the richness of life on earth. Its unsettling
complexities and perplexities, to bring into conversation personal
experience with laboratory data and global change, and to trace the
unintended consequences of well-intentioned interventions, we require
narratives. Pepin has understood this at every level.
Pepin's tale goes back to the biological origins of HIV:
simian immunodeficiency virus. Chimpanzees, all of which live in Africa,
are humanity's closest living relatives; hence people are
particularly susceptible to infections carried by them. Transmission of
SIV from one subspecies of chimpanzee (Pan troglodytes troglodytes) to
hunters (through cuts) occurred repeatedly, but rarely, over hundreds of
years. But then things changed: the explosive global pandemic of
HIV/AIDS in the 20th century occurred because of a coincidence of
changes in technology (availability of guns leading to a large increase
in hunting), social life (colonial military activities and development
projects such as the construction of railways and building of cities,
with their high concentrations of people and widespread prostitution to
service the populations caught up in these changes), international
mobility of people (usually related to business, military and technical
assistance) and aggressive, paternalistic, but well-intentioned public
health programs (injections for several diseases including sleeping
sickness, syphilis and leprosy, as well as the use of blood products for
treatment of hemophilia). As in any tragic story, good motives, hubris,
human greed, poverty and ignorance play central roles.
The initial explosion from an isolated hunter (the real and
original Patient Zero) into the larger human population took place in
the 1920s because health authorities in French administered territories
in Africa Initiated large-scale programs at that time to reduce the
burden of sleeping sickness, caused by a blood-borne parasite. The only
available treatment was an injectable arsenic-based drug. in a context
where there was a shortage of needles and syringes, no easy ways to
sterilize equipment in the field and scant understanding of how viruses
could be transmitted through contaminated injection equipment. Once in
the wider (non-hunting) human population, the infection was further
spread into adjacent French- and Belgian-administered territories
through both medical injections and prostitution (a service industry for
colonial industrial development).
But how did HIV get from Africa into North America, particularly
into the blood supply, where it wrought such havoc? in the early 1960s,
Haiti contributed more than a thousand technical workers and teachers to
help the Congo build their new country after the Belgians left. One of
those workers (a more likely Patient Zero for North America) carried the
infection back to Haiti. In the meantime, a global trade in blood
products was rapidly expanding, particularly for treatment of
hemophilia. In Haiti, Luckner Cambronne, leader of dictator
Duvalier's dreaded Tonton Macoutes, not only assassinated political
opponents and
exported corpses to American medical schools, but also actively
obtained and traded in plasma blood products, earning him the nickname
"Vampire of the Caribbean." Repeated donations from
impoverished donors in a situation where equipment was poorly sterilized
facilitated the spread in that population, from which, through both
blood products and sexual tourism, the disease spread to North America.
After recounting stories of how HIV was transmitted through blood
donor programs in various countries, Pepin considers, "What do all
these stories have in common? Poor people looking for a quick source of
income and willing to sell their blood repeatedly. Profit-driven blood
collection centres where a small number of entrepreneurs try to make as
much money as possible by cutting costs, re-using needles, syringes and
tubings, while being unaware of or not caring about the risk of
transmitting blood-borne viruses. A lucrative market for these blood
products, either locally or internationally. Finally, a 'patient
zero' who introduces the pathogen."
The strength of Pepin's narrative is that he is not making
gratuitous claims. He draws on a detailed examination of the European
colonization of those parts of Africa from which AIDS has emerged, the
distribution of non-human primates, the history of decolonization,
phylogenetic studies of viruses, molecular biology, human behaviour,
intuition, common sense and epidemiology. He does not neglect the role
of heroic (and anti-heroic) individuals, war, trade and public
prejudice. He raises a variety of alternative hypotheses and then
vigorously examines the evidence that might support or refute them. In
those cases where there is only circumstantial evidence (such as what
actually happened In Haiti), he pieces the most convincing explanation
of events from a variety of sources.
This is heavy material, but Pepin handles it well. He is not beyond
making wry commentaries. Sometimes he does this with a simple
wrist-flick of punctuation. Patients thought to have gonorrhea in the
Belgian Congo in the 1930s and '40s "received injections of
milk (!), typhoid vaccine (!)." At other times his verbal bite is
more direct. Discussing some of the early clinical trials for drugs to
treat sleeping sickness, he refers to "Louise Pearce, a visiting
American scientist (always referred to as Miss Pearce rather than Dr.
Pearce, her unmarried status apparently being more important than her
degrees!)."
According to Pepin, many of the messages from the HIV epidemic have
already been documented in relation to other diseases, but "the one
new message that the HIV epidemic, as chronicled in this book, should
bring home is that well-intentioned human interventions can have
unpredictable and disastrous microbiologic consequences." It both
heartens and saddens me to read this. On the one hand, I am pleased that
a medical writer, at last, has stumbled across this Insight. I am
saddened because the phenomenon has been well known for many years to
those studying the relationships between human well-being and complex
social-ecological systems. Unfortunately, many biomedical and laboratory
scientists, narrowly focused on an linage on a microscope slide, have
forgotten this. Clinical neurologist Oliver Sacks, in his marvellous
book The Mind's Eye, has argued that we "do not honor our
peripheral vision as much as we should." Sacks's observation
is related to individual experience, but some of us have argued that the
highly focused-but-disoriented stumbling about of health sciences
reflects a collective lack of honouring--indeed a pathological loss
of--peripheral vision. Pepin, thankfully, reflects a recovery of sorts.
Careful attention to the evidence allows Pepin to notice some
unexpected outcomes that, at first glance, might seem startling. For
instance, he is able to note, without flinching with false liberal
guilt, that for "some of them [women in Central Africa], becoming a
prostitute was a kind of liberation. They would move to the cities, away
from family and societal constraints and values, free to behave as they
wished." The passage brought to mind a discussion with a colleague
about our research in Central America. I was berating the evils of the
Korean- and Chinese-run textile export assembly factories, the
maquiladoras; her response to me was that these sweatshops offered the
first opportunity for many of these young women to earn an Independent
living, no matter how meager, and thus to escape abusive homes and
patriarchal communities. Every narrative is embedded in a web of both
positive and negative outcomes. Achieving what we most desire--no more
nor less than getting rid of what we despise--is both a loss and a gain,
a source of both happiness and grief.
We have built dams, for example, to facilitate irrigation, to
increase food supplies and to generate power for industry, even as known
and potential negative impacts are--sometimes tragically--downplayed,
misunderstood or mishandled. In Egypt, while schistosomiasis, an
infection caused by a parasite of the urinary tract, liver and
intestines, has been present there for about 5,000 years, conversion of
arable land to perennial Irrigation in the decades after the
construction of the Aswan Low Dam in 1902 led to dramatic increases in
some forms of the disease. Even as the High Dam was being constructed,
and alarms were raised that further increases might occur, Egypt mounted
an unprecedented campaign to treat schistosomiasis; more than two
million injections were given to 250,000 people every year. As Pepin
recounts, when the campaign was over, more than 20 percent of Egyptians
10 to 50 years old had acquired hepatitis C through improperly
sterilized syringes, the largest iatrogenic epidemic ever recorded.
Sadly, the message of unintended consequences has not been heard by
those who most need to hear it, and pointing out gaps between
technological capability and scientific understanding generally earns
one the label of a Luddite. According to the World Health Organization,
syringe reuse in developing and transitional countries still results,
annually, in 22 million new hepatitis B virus infections, 2 million new
hepatitis C infections and 260,000 new HIV infections. We have the
knowledge and the technology, but there is no money to be made in giving
safe injections in poor countries.
This is a different kind of gap in our craggy global landscape--a
moral gap--blasted open and kept open for business accounting reasons.
This chasm--where disease, ethics, economics and complex social and
ecological interactions become entangled--is the new frontier for
health. Pepin has given us an excellent starting point for embarking on
this perilous and necessary journey.
David Waltner-Toews is a retired professor of epidemiology in the
Department of Population Medicine of the Ontario Veterinary College at
the University of Guelph, the founding president of Veterinarians
without Borders/Veterinaires sans Frontieres Canada and a founding
member of the Canadian Community of Practice in Ecosystem Approaches to
Health. He is a specialist in the epidemiology of diseases people get
from animals (zoonoses), and the author of The Chickens Fight Back:
Pandemic Panics and Deadly Diseases that lump from Animals to Humans
(Greystone, 2007).