By ETHAN
WATTERS
After the 2004 tsunami in
Asia, many mental-health experts agreed that a “second tsunami” of mental
illness in the form of post-traumatic stress disorder would strike the region.
Like doctors rushing to the outbreak of an epidemic, American counselors and
trauma researchers soon arrived on the scene hoping to pass on useful knowledge
about PTSD. A few years on, however, their efforts have raised a troublesome
question: Were they bringing the wrong treatment to the wrong people?
At issue is not whether
tragic events like the tsunami trigger debilitating psychological distress and
even mental illness — everyone agrees that they can. The question is over the
extent to which survivors’ cultural beliefs shape their symptoms. If culture
has the impact that some researchers suggest, the PTSD diagnosis may be of
little help (and even do potential harm) when applied wholesale in other
countries.
In the last 25 years, PTSD
has had a remarkable ascendancy in American psychiatry and in public
consciousness. Proponents of the diagnosis assert that experiences of fear or
horror often spark a cluster of 17 broad symptoms, including intrusive
thoughts, memory avoidance and uncontrollable anxiety. The concept of PTSD also
encompasses notions of how best to overcome the disorder, usually through
measured re-exposure to the original trauma supervised by a counselor. PTSD,
many Americans assume, describes the way that all humans react to trauma.
Gaithri Fernando, an expert
on trauma from California State University, questions that assumption.
“Researchers and counselors who came to Sri Lanka after the tsunami did find
some PTSD symptoms,” Fernando says. “But it was not the nightmares or
flashbacks that most of the population was concerned with. The deepest
psychological wounds for Sri Lankans were not on the PTSD checklists; they were
the loss of or the disturbance of one’s role in the group.”
Ken Miller, a psychology
professor at Pomona College, reached similar conclusions in his work on
war-related trauma in Guatemala, Bosnia and Afghanistan. His study of Afghans
who experienced trauma yielded 23 symptoms, including many that were not on the
PTSD symptom list and several that had no ready translation into English. There
was, for instance, “asabi,” a type of nervous anger, and “fishar-e-bala,” the
mental sensation of internal stress or pressure. Researchers studying other
cultures have also found deviations from the PTSD symptom list. Salvadoran
female refugees who endured the protracted civil war often experienced
calorias, a feeling of intense heat in their bodies. When Cambodian refugees
were asked about the most pressing psychological impact of trauma, they told of
nighttime visits by vengeful spirits.
The simple but surprising
truth appears to be that symptoms of psychological trauma can be both
culturally created and utterly real to the individual at the same time. As the
anthropologist Allan Young of McGill University explains, a diagnosis like PTSD
“can be real in a particular place and time and yet not be true for all places
and times.”
Cultural differences can
also be found in the beliefs about how people heal. Many East Africans, for
instance, hold that the ability not to talk about distressing experiences is a
sign of maturity. This runs counter to the typical assumption of trauma
counselors that a healing catharsis can be achieved through “truth telling.” In
Sri Lanka, Fernando says, the idea of splitting off from the group to heal
psychic wounds through individual counseling can actually exacerbate the more
salient fear of social isolation. To understand how strange and disconcerting
it might be to have another culture import its form of trauma healing, Miller
says, you need only consider the situation reversed. “Imagine our reaction,” he
says, “if Mozambicans flew here after 9/11 and began telling survivors to
engage in a certain set of mourning rituals in order to sever their
relationship with their deceased family members.”
Instead of imposing outside
assumptions about trauma and healing, the World Health Organization has begun recommending
“psychosocial support” for disaster areas. The assumption is that just as
cultures have their own symptoms of trauma, they have distinct healing methods
that are often tied to local rites. For every angry ghost, there is a ritual
for the dead intended to lay that ghost to rest.
If we’re unaware of the
local idioms of suffering, Miller and other researchers argue, our assistance
is likely to be ineffective at best. The worst-case scenario is that such
interventions pressure other cultures to adopt Western beliefs about the meaning
and impact of trauma. “PTSD has become psychiatric Esperanto,” Young says
mordantly. “It may turn out to be the greatest success story of globalization.”
Ethan Watters, a writer based in San Francisco, is
the author of “Urban Tribes: Are Friends the New Family?”