A day not easily forgotten
Editorial from Patient Care, September 15, 1995
A few months ago I traveled to New York City -- less than an hour from Patient
Care's offices -- to attend a meeting sponsored by an organization
called Physicians for Human Rights (PHR). Coincidentally, I had just
heard from Harold J. Bursztajn, M.D., a psychiatrist at Harvard Medical
school, who had served as a consultant for an article I prepared
on posttraumatic stress disorder. Dr. Bursztajn was going to be in
New York for a few days to visit his father, and perhaps he would
have time to see me as well. Only later did I realize the connection
between PHR and Dr. Bursztajn's visit.
The PHR was cosponsored by the Center for the Study of Society and Medicine
at Columbia University College of Physicians and Surgeons and by the
Committee on Human rights of Scientists of the New York Academy of Sciences.
The theme of the meeting -- medical documentation of human rights abuses
-- had intrigued me, but as I walked into the room, I felt I had stepped
into the maw of the beast. Prominent on the agenda was a session on "physical
and psychological evidence of trauma and torture." I wanted to cover
my eyes and ears.
We tend not to think much about torture in this world, yet United Nations
studies estimate that it is systematically practiced in at least 30 countries.
The very nature of the obscenity makes it difficult for us to acknowledge
its existence, let alone respond humanely and effectively to its victims.
yet the meeting had drawn more than 100 doctors who wanted to learn what
individuals could do.
Since 1986, members of PHR have been working to prevent medical complicity
in torture and to facilitate U.S. asylum for its victims. Basing its
actions on the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, PHR states unequivocally
that doctors who participate in human rights abuses violate the ethic
of primum non nocere.
To accomplish the first goal, PHR directs a spotlight on physicians who
certify that prisoners are healthy enough to continue with interrogation.
The organization lets physicians know that collaboration in such efforts
will come under public scrutiny. On the positive side, medical verification
of injuries can provide powerful testimony to its occurrence and focus
international attention on human rights abuses even as they are strenuously
denied.
Victims of such abuses often seek political asylum in the United States,
fearing further persecution should they be forced to return to their
native countries. PHR maintains a network of primary care physicians
who volunteer to examine and testify on behalf of applicant for political
asylum. Their medical testimonies substantiating abuses can play a crucial
role in the outcome of asylum claims.
As I listened to the presentations, Dr. Bursztajn was a few blocks away
visiting his father, Abraham, 79 years old and a Holocaust survivor.
The day before, the elder Bursztajn had spent three hours being interviewed
by the Survivors of the Shoah Visual History Foundation. The gentleman
has posttraumatic stress disorder, and his son knew that the experience
of being interviewed could bring back horrific recollections of being
interrogated under torture. Dr. Bursztajn stood close by throughout the
interview to ground his father in reality.
In the moving scene at the end of Steven Spielberg's film, Schindler's
List, a procession of aged men and women -- Holocaust survivors -- passes
haltingly across the screen. Those people inspired Spielberg to create
what he calls "my most important work" -- the survivors of
Shoah Foundation, dedicated to chronical the Holocaust's horrors. As
Spielberg says, "It is essential that we see victim's faces, hear
their voices."
The quarter of a million Holocaust survivors are an aging and dying population.
Spielberg sees the Shoah project as a race against time. He hopes to
accumulate tens of thousands of personal testimonies by 1997. A multilingual
team is interviewing survivors around the world for firsthand accounts
of their experiences during and after the Holocaust. Photographs, maps,
and official papers along with the unedited videotape personal histories.
All of these will be assembled in an multimedia, on-line database.
The collection will initially be made available to five repositories
via the Internet: the Fortunoff Video Archive for Holocaust Testimonies
at Yale University; the Living Memorial to the Holocaust - Museum of
Jewish Heritage in New York City; the Simon Weisenthal Center in Los
Angeles; the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C.; and
the Yad Vashem Holocaust Martyrs' and Heroes' Remembrance Authority in
Jerusalem. Beyond that, access will develop as needed. A children's museum,
for example, might have a simple touch screen that will enable a child
to speak to a survivor.
The day I went to New York, I journeyed from the comfort of my office
to the rim of the human abyss. By the day's end, however, I felt heartened
by the willingness of concerned doctors to work relentlessly to rescue
brave, imperiled souls around the world. I felt encouraged by the fact
that Spielberg's project will shine light on a shameful segment of our
history in the hope that understanding will bring change.
The Shoah foundation now has on videotape Abraham Bursztajn's memories
of the Lodz, Poland, ghetto and his role in the Jewish resistance. Abraham
says he cherishes the memory of a physician who appeared at his side
after he recovered consciousness after being whipped by Nazis. That good
doctor, himself a prisoner, assured him, "If you don't give up hope,
you will survive."
Those words gave him -- indeed, give all of us -- the will to go on.
-Dorothy Pennachio
Senior Associate Editor