Psychiatry in Communist Europe

IF 0.3 2区 历史学 Q2 HISTORY
U. Grashoff
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Perhaps the most interesting insight of the volume is that the dogmatization of Ivan Pavlov’s theory of higher nervous activity did not result in a homogenization of Communist psychiatry. Neither in Romania, in Hungary nor in the Soviet Union did the ‘Pavlovian turn’ displace previously practised therapies. The various ramifications of Pavlovism in different socialist countries demonstrate the variety of Communist psychiatries. In Czechoslovakia, researchers harnessed Pavlovian ideas in creative ways and, for instance, used it to draw inspiration for environmental psychiatry. They were ‘committed to the Marxist project’, but ‘by no means dogmatic ideologues’ (Sarah Marks). In Budapest, on the other hand, psychiatrists paid lip service to Pavlov while psychotherapy, psychology, and psychoanalysis persisted in informal educational groups and private networks, as Melinda Kovai points out. In the USSR, the insulin coma therapy, a Western method, had been adopted, reframed, and widely used. Although ineffective, it did not disappear after 1950. As Benjamin Zajicek shows, insulin coma therapy was even more frequently practised for a while since ‘Pavlov’s doctrine’ rejected other brutal therapies such as lobotomy and electroshock which were used in the West. Another main theme of the book is the construction of diagnoses within the context of a Communist regime. In Romania, the rebranding of the diagnosis of neurasthenia in Pavlovian terms (called ‘asthenic neurosis’) turned out to be a success story. Corina Dobos considers ‘asthenic neurosis’, which bundled up fatigue, boredom, apathy, conflicts, and stress, a ‘creative translation’ of the experiences in state-socialist societies ‘into medical language and daily practice’. In Central Asia, the term ‘narcomania’ became a weapon of Soviet psychiatrists to fight native Islamic medical practices. Other contributions highlight knowledge transfer which did not stop at the Iron Curtain: East European practitioners strove to actively contribute to Western psychiatry, too. Matt Savelli describes how illegal drug-taking was treated as a social problem in Yugoslavia. The re-socialization of ‘drug addicts’ was not confined to Tito’s state; the social therapeutic approach developed by Vladimir Hudolin was used in more than thirty countries. Another example is the conference on ‘Integrative Human Ecology’ that took place in Czechoslovakia in 1969. The volume is not without its problems. Since most of the contributors focus on national histories, the book lacks in coherence. For instance, Volker Hess has meticulously examined which psycho-pharmaceuticals were prescribed in the GDR, and when, but does not provide any references to other East European countries. Hence his chapter does not really contribute to the overarching question of the book. Most of the authors are rather affirmative of the examined practices. The essay on work therapy in the Soviet Union, for instance, would have benefited from a more critical assessment of the success stories of the Stalinist era which are referenced. The ‘comparative concluding chapter’, which the editors announced in the introduction (p. 20) but unfortunately left out of the volume, would have lent this book more importance. Still, it is a valuable collection that gives insights that help change the emphasis from sensationalist stories to the everyday business of psychiatry. 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引用次数: 19

Abstract

‘Was there a Communist psychiatry?’ This is the overarching question of this edited volume. Previous studies have emphasized the misuse of the profession, the forced hospitalization and involuntary drugging of dissidents, or they dealt with ideologically informed approaches such as the rejection of psychoanalysis and the simultaneous devotion to physiological approaches to mental illness. This book provides nuanced views from within Communist psychiatry. The editors’ expert introduction concedes that psychiatric abuse for political and other purposes did happen, although both the scale and the motivation of Soviet psychiatrists involved in this practice remain highly controversial. The focus on this issue has led to an incomplete picture of psychiatry in Communist Eastern Europe, and the objective of this book is to fill some of the gaps. Perhaps the most interesting insight of the volume is that the dogmatization of Ivan Pavlov’s theory of higher nervous activity did not result in a homogenization of Communist psychiatry. Neither in Romania, in Hungary nor in the Soviet Union did the ‘Pavlovian turn’ displace previously practised therapies. The various ramifications of Pavlovism in different socialist countries demonstrate the variety of Communist psychiatries. In Czechoslovakia, researchers harnessed Pavlovian ideas in creative ways and, for instance, used it to draw inspiration for environmental psychiatry. They were ‘committed to the Marxist project’, but ‘by no means dogmatic ideologues’ (Sarah Marks). In Budapest, on the other hand, psychiatrists paid lip service to Pavlov while psychotherapy, psychology, and psychoanalysis persisted in informal educational groups and private networks, as Melinda Kovai points out. In the USSR, the insulin coma therapy, a Western method, had been adopted, reframed, and widely used. Although ineffective, it did not disappear after 1950. As Benjamin Zajicek shows, insulin coma therapy was even more frequently practised for a while since ‘Pavlov’s doctrine’ rejected other brutal therapies such as lobotomy and electroshock which were used in the West. Another main theme of the book is the construction of diagnoses within the context of a Communist regime. In Romania, the rebranding of the diagnosis of neurasthenia in Pavlovian terms (called ‘asthenic neurosis’) turned out to be a success story. Corina Dobos considers ‘asthenic neurosis’, which bundled up fatigue, boredom, apathy, conflicts, and stress, a ‘creative translation’ of the experiences in state-socialist societies ‘into medical language and daily practice’. In Central Asia, the term ‘narcomania’ became a weapon of Soviet psychiatrists to fight native Islamic medical practices. Other contributions highlight knowledge transfer which did not stop at the Iron Curtain: East European practitioners strove to actively contribute to Western psychiatry, too. Matt Savelli describes how illegal drug-taking was treated as a social problem in Yugoslavia. The re-socialization of ‘drug addicts’ was not confined to Tito’s state; the social therapeutic approach developed by Vladimir Hudolin was used in more than thirty countries. Another example is the conference on ‘Integrative Human Ecology’ that took place in Czechoslovakia in 1969. The volume is not without its problems. Since most of the contributors focus on national histories, the book lacks in coherence. For instance, Volker Hess has meticulously examined which psycho-pharmaceuticals were prescribed in the GDR, and when, but does not provide any references to other East European countries. Hence his chapter does not really contribute to the overarching question of the book. Most of the authors are rather affirmative of the examined practices. The essay on work therapy in the Soviet Union, for instance, would have benefited from a more critical assessment of the success stories of the Stalinist era which are referenced. The ‘comparative concluding chapter’, which the editors announced in the introduction (p. 20) but unfortunately left out of the volume, would have lent this book more importance. Still, it is a valuable collection that gives insights that help change the emphasis from sensationalist stories to the everyday business of psychiatry. However, the initial question, if there was a Communist psychiatry, remains open.
共产主义欧洲的精神病学
“有共产主义精神病学吗?”这是这本编辑过的书的首要问题。以前的研究强调了对该专业的滥用、强迫住院和非自愿给持不同政见者下药,或者它们处理了意识形态上知情的方法,如拒绝精神分析和同时致力于精神疾病的生理方法。这本书提供了共产主义精神病学内部细致入微的观点。编辑的专家介绍承认,出于政治和其他目的的精神科虐待确实发生过,尽管苏联精神科医生参与这种做法的规模和动机仍然存在高度争议。对这个问题的关注导致了对共产主义东欧精神病学的不完整描述,本书的目的是填补一些空白。也许这本书中最有趣的见解是伊凡·巴甫洛夫的高级神经活动理论的教条化并没有导致共产主义精神病学的同质化。无论是在罗马尼亚、匈牙利还是在苏联,“巴甫洛夫转向”都没有取代以前的治疗方法。巴甫洛夫主义在不同社会主义国家的各种分支表明了共产主义精神的多样性。在捷克斯洛伐克,研究人员以创造性的方式利用巴甫洛夫思想,例如,用它来为环境精神病学汲取灵感。他们“致力于马克思主义事业”,但“绝不是教条主义的理论家”(萨拉·马克斯)。另一方面,正如Melinda Kovai指出的那样,在布达佩斯,精神科医生口头上支持巴甫洛夫,而心理治疗、心理学和精神分析在非正式的教育团体和私人网络中持续存在。在苏联,胰岛素昏迷疗法,一种西方的方法,已经被采用,重新设计,并广泛使用。虽然无效,但1950年后并没有消失。正如Benjamin Zajicek所说,自从“巴甫洛夫学说”拒绝了西方使用的其他残酷疗法,如额叶切除术和电击,胰岛素昏迷疗法在一段时间内被更频繁地应用。这本书的另一个主题是在共产主义政权的背景下构建诊断。在罗马尼亚,用巴甫洛夫的术语重新定义神经衰弱的诊断(称为“衰弱性神经症”)是一个成功的故事。Corina Dobos认为“衰弱性神经症”将疲劳、无聊、冷漠、冲突和压力结合在一起,是对国家社会主义社会经验的“创造性翻译”,“转化为医学语言和日常实践”。在中亚,“嗜毒癖”一词成为苏联精神科医生对抗当地伊斯兰医疗实践的武器。其他的贡献强调了知识转移并没有停止在铁幕:东欧从业者也努力积极地为西方精神病学做出贡献。Matt Savelli描述了非法吸毒是如何在南斯拉夫被视为一个社会问题。“吸毒者”的再社会化并不局限于铁托的国家;Vladimir Hudolin开发的社会治疗方法在30多个国家使用。另一个例子是1969年在捷克斯洛伐克举行的“综合人类生态学”会议。这一数字并非没有问题。由于大多数作者关注的是国家历史,这本书缺乏连贯性。例如,沃尔克·赫斯(Volker Hess)仔细研究了哪些精神药物是在民主德国开出的,以及何时开出的,但没有提供任何其他东欧国家的参考资料。因此,这一章并没有真正对本书的首要问题做出贡献。大多数作者都相当肯定的审查实践。例如,这篇关于苏联工作治疗的文章,如果对斯大林时代的成功故事进行更批判性的评估,就会受益。编辑们在前言(第20页)中提到的“比较总结章”,不幸的是被遗漏了,这一章本可以使本书更加重要。尽管如此,它仍然是一本有价值的合集,它提供的见解有助于将重点从耸人听闻的故事转向精神病学的日常业务。然而,最初的问题——是否存在共产主义精神病学——仍然悬而未决。
本文章由计算机程序翻译,如有差异,请以英文原文为准。
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来源期刊
Central Europe
Central Europe HISTORY-
CiteScore
0.20
自引率
0.00%
发文量
7
期刊介绍: Central Europe publishes original research articles on the history, languages, literature, political culture, music, arts and society of those lands once part of the Habsburg Monarchy and Poland-Lithuania from the Middle Ages to the present. It also publishes discussion papers, marginalia, book, archive, exhibition, music and film reviews. Central Europe has been established as a refereed journal to foster the worldwide study of the area and to provide a forum for the academic discussion of Central European life and institutions. From time to time an issue will be devoted to a particular theme, based on a selection of papers presented at an international conference or seminar series.
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