From the mid-nineteenth century, seamen were increasingly identified as vectors of epidemic diseases such as cholera. The rising acceptance of the germ theories of disease and contagion and the transition from sail to steam at this time increased the fear of the rapid spread of contagious diseases through these mobile people. This article examines how the British naval authorities, ship surgeons and the medical and municipal authorities in the Calcutta sailortown sought to improve maritime health and hygiene to prevent the spread of cholera among and by British seamen. Nineteenth century Calcutta is an ideal context for this study on account of its epidemiological notoriety as a disease entrepot and the sea route between Calcutta and British ports was one of the most closely monitored for disease in the Empire. The article argues that a study of cholera among British seamen can generate important insights into the relationship among disease, medicine and colonialism and in doing so shed light into a neglected aspect of the history of nineteenth century cholera, the British anxiety regarding disease dispersion, practice of hygiene and sanitation and British seamen’s health.

Psychiatry, psychology and psychotherapy played an important role in attempts to regulate and rehabilitate New Zealand men imprisoned for sodomy and indecent assault between 1910 and 1960. Little attention has, so far, been paid to the specific psychological ‘treatment’ of such incarcerated men in the international context, but New Zealand’s archives offer-up much valuable detail. This article adopts a Foucauldian approach and explores shifting epistemic beliefs alongside the specific practices of key medical officials, and it considers how prisoners’ subjectivities were shaped in the process. Attempts to displace homoerotic desire gradually gave way to the articulation of same-sex sexuality. New possibilities emerged: when the psychologising of homosexuality in prisons opened the door to self-expression it showed an affinity with the organised resistance of the 1970s.

The article provides the first description and analysis of the recently rediscovered manuscript titled Methodus anatomica by Girolamo Fabrici da Acquapendente (1533–1619). Acquapendente was one of the most important anatomists in late sixteenth-century Europe and played an instrumental role as Harvey’s teacher in Padua towards the latter’s discovery of the circulation of the blood. The manuscript provides first-hand testimony as to how anatomy was administered in Padua in the post-Vesalian era and sheds light on a number of otherwise unknown aspects of the development of the anatomical method. Chiefly among these is the attention devoted by Acquapendente to historia, as a way to order sensory data in a consistent way, which draws widely from the geometrical method and from the contemporary debate on the discretisation of continuous quantities.

This dual-focussed examination will critically compare and contrast the British Royal Army Medical Corps and the French Medical Service’s involvement in the Western Front chemical campaign between 1915 and 1918. Because the Anglophone historiography has tended to marginalise the French contribution to the allied chemical war, this article will attempt to re-balance the historical narrative by emphasising the collective nature and importance of this joint Franco-British enterprise. By interrogating a raft of under-utilised primary evidence in the French and British archives, this investigation will contribute to the ‘alliance literature’ by arguing that when it comes to aspects of the Franco-British chemical war such as the co-operation of the medical services, the appellation ‘together but alone’ does not fully hold. The article will explore avenues of the two national armies evolving process of mutual medical assistance, material exchange and scientific collaboration. The striking similarity of French and British gas casualty statistics is highlighted with reference to the overall congruence of their anti-gas strategies – notwithstanding the problematic nature of these statistics. In addition to enhancing soldiers’ resistance to the poison gas threat on the battlefield, the Medical Services were also responsible for the protection of local civilians in the war zones. With reference mainly to France, this investigation will discuss the significance and implications of the poison gas threat to the home front. Finally, the impact of chemical weapon production upon civilian war workers in France and Britain will be commented upon.

This article addresses how French academics, doctors and state bureaucrats formulated sex work as a pathology, an area of inquiry that had to be studied in the interest of public safety. French colonisation in the Levant extended the reach of this ‘expertise’ from the metropole to Lebanon under the guise of public health. Knowledge produced by academics was used to buttress colonial state policy, which demanded that sex workers be contained to protect society against medical contagion. No longer drawing conclusions based on speculation, the medical establishment asserted its authority by harnessing modern advances in science and uniting them with extensive observation. ‘Empirical facts’ replaced ‘opinions’, as doctors forged new approaches to studying and containing venereal disease. They accomplished this through the use of statistics and new methods of diagnosing and treating maladies. Their novel approach was used to treat sex workers and to support commercial sex work policy both at home and abroad. Sex workers became the objects of scientific study and were consequently problematised by the state in medicalised terms.

The historiography of western medicine in colonial India has predominantly been analysed from the perspectives of the elite services – the Indian Medical Service (IMS) and their recruits. Unfortunately, perceiving colonial medical practices through the lens of the IMS has remained inadequate to provide a nuanced understanding of the role played by Indians in the semi-urban and rural areas of colonial India. This article examines the contributions of local administration and the role played by the recruits of the Subordinate Medical Service. This article uses the Madras Presidency as its case study and focusses on the medical subordinates who were pivotal in establishing a western medical tradition in the region. This will shift the urban-centric focus and examine mostly the rural parts of the presidency, in particular, the district hospitals and dispensaries located in the districts, taluks and villages. The article analyses the transformation in the Madras medical administration from the late nineteenth century until 1935 to argue how subordinates were the ones controlling the local medical services, and thus pulling the strings of health administration in the presidency. This will also demonstrate the uniqueness of Madras and how it disseminated western medical care with an active participation and involvement of the local residents.

Growing interest to Tibetan medicine among the Russian scientific community and popularisation of its practices in the Russian Empire metropolitan areas in the second half of the nineteenth century to early twentieth century concurred with on-going changes in perception of the Orient by Russian society, establishment of its positive image, increased interest to the elements of oriental culture and practices within the framework of the Silver Age values, and the development of the natural science and experimental medicine, both of which caused an improvement in the healthcare system in Russia. At the turn of the twentieth century, Russian society manifested an ambivalent attitude towards Tibetan medicine. On the one hand, there was an increasing interest to theoretical foundations, a desire for scientific understanding, and spread of the Tibetan medicine practical component in the sociocultural environment of the metropolitan society, previously unfamiliar with oriental traditions and beliefs. On the other hand, an issue of the possibilities and principles of Tibetan medical treatment had opposed Western scientific medicine, which produced many discussions and critical reviews. The controversy was repeatedly caused by the negative attitude towards principal metropolitan specialist in Tibetan medicine – Peter Badmaev and distrust to his activities, as opposed to the medical skills of actual lamas. Despite the fact that it was virtually impossible to integrate Tibetan medicine into the Russian healthcare system, interest in it became a factor of attraction to the East and the oriental culture in Russian society at the turn of the twentieth century.

This article examines the medical career of an enslaved physician in Virginia named Nassaw from the mid eighteenth-century until the period of the American Revolution. I develop a taxonomy of Nassaw’s labours as a nurse caring for the sick, a healer administering medicines at the behest of his enslaver and as a doctor in his own right making medical judgements as he treated his patients. Nassaw is in some ways comparable to other enslaved healers of African descent in the Atlantic world, including well-known Mohanes and ritual specialists in Brazil and Latin America. However, due to his role as a physician employed by his slaveholder to principally heal other enslaved people, Nassaw struggled to find satisfaction in his labours as a healer as other enslaved people rightly perceived him as an agent of their enslaver whose medical work healed their bodies while extending their oppression. I argue that Nassaw became frustrated and depressed, and turned to drinking because of his inability to pursue or experience what Sharla M. Fett terms a ‘relational vision of health’ in the Chesapeake. Moreover, I interpret his drinking as a rebuke to the racist pretensions of his enslaver – who instructed him in pharmacy and surgery – who aimed to transform Nassaw into an Enlightened ‘black exhibit’ by training him to be a doctor. I conclude by returning to how precisely different Nassaw was from other enslaved healers in the Chesapeake like Tom of Nomini Hall or Romeo, and make the case that Nassaw deserves a place in histories of slavery and medicine precisely because he was an enslaved plantation doctor rather than a popular healer or conjuror.

Until the beginning of the nineteenth century, registering and regulating the training of any medical practitioners in Britain had rarely been attempted, unlike in many other European countries. During the Revolutionary War with France, fevers swept through British armies, leading to numerous fatalities and crushing military defeats, especially in the disastrous expedition to St Domingo. The problem, as forcibly advocated by Robert Jackson, the leading expert on military fevers, seemed to be poor medical care due to both lack of compulsory medical training and the unsuitability of whatever training was available for army medical practitioners. With the simultaneous rapid advance of French military and civilian medical training and the threat of a French invasion, regulating British medical training and excluding the unqualified became a military necessity, and suddenly medical reform was receiving widespread attention. Emphasising the benefits to the Britain’s fighting ability, the reform effort, led by Edward Harrison, a very provincial Lincolnshire physician, under the patronage of Sir Joseph Banks, the President of the Royal Society, gained the support of leading politicians, including three Prime Ministers. For a short time, comprehensive medical reform seemed inevitable: but the opposition of the medical corporations, especially the London College of Physicians, could not be circumvented, and although Harrison persisted in his efforts for 6 years, no legislation was achieved. Nevertheless, within months, the Association of Apothecaries continued the process by pressing for a more limited reform, culminating in the 1815 Apothecaries Act. The long march towards the full regulation of doctors in Britain was started by the perceived military needs of the country during the war with France.

In the Finnish medical discussion during the middle decades of the twentieth century, the challenging differential diagnostics between hyperthyroidism and various neuroses was perceived to yield a risk of unnecessary surgical interventions of psychiatric patients. In 1963, the Finnish surgeon Erkki Saarenmaa claimed that ‘the most significant mark of a neurotic was a transverse scar on the neck’, a result of an unnecessary thyroid surgery. The utterance was connected to the complex nature of thyroid diseases, which seemed to be to ‘a great extent psychosomatic’. Setting forth from this statement, the article aims to decipher the connection between hyperthyroidism, unnecessary surgical treatment and the psychosomatic approach in Finnish medicine. Utilising a wide variety of published medical research and discussion in specialist journals, the article examines the theoretical debate around troublesome diagnostics of functional complaints. It focuses on the introduction of new medical ideas, namely the concepts of ‘psychosomatics’ and ‘stress’. In the process, the article aims to unveil a definition of psychosomatic illness that places it on a continuum between psychological and somatic illness. That psychosomatic approach creates a space with interpretative potential can be applied to the historiography of psychosomatic phenomena more generally. Further inquiry into the intersections of surgery and psychosomatics would enrich both historiographies. It is also argued that the historical study of psychosomatic syndromes may become skewed, if the term ‘psychosomatic’ is from the outset taken to signify something that is all in the mind.

The emergence of modern health-related commodities and tourism in the late Meiji and Taishō eras (1900s–1920s) was accompanied by a revival of spiritualist religions, many of which had their origins in folk belief. What helped this was the people’s interpretation of radiation. This article underscores the linkages between radiation, science and spiritualism in Japan at the time of modernisation and imperialism. In the early twentieth century, the general public came to know about radiation because it was deemed to have special efficacy in healing the human body. In Japan, the concept of radiation harmonised with both Western culture and Japanese traditional culture. One can see the fusion of Western and traditional culture both in people’s lives and commercial culture through the popularity and availability of radium hot springs and radioactive commodities. Radium hot springs became fashionable in Japan in the 1910s. As scholars reported that radium provided the real potency of hot springs, local hot springs villages seized on the scientific explanation and connected their developments with national policies and industries. This paper illustrates how the discourse about radium, which came from the field of radiation medicine, connected science and spiritualism in modern Japan.

American child psychiatrists have long been interested in the problems of delinquent behaviour by juveniles. With the rise of specific psychiatric diagnoses in the 1960s and 1970s, delinquent behaviour was defined within the diagnosis of conduct disorder. Like all psychiatric diagnoses, this concept was shaped by particular historical actors in context and has been highly contingent on assumptions related to race, class and gender. The history of conduct disorder illustrates the tensions in child psychiatry between the expansive goals of the field and the often limited uses of its professional authority, as well as individual children as the target of intervention and their interactions in groups.

This manuscript investigates clinical decisions and the management of ‘intersex’ children at the University Children’s Hospital Zurich between 1945 and 1970. This was an era of rapid change in paediatric medicine, something that was mirrored in Zurich. Andrea Prader, the principal figure in this paper, started his career during the late 1940s and was instrumental in moving the hospital towards focusing more on expertise in chronic diseases. Starting in 1950, he helped the Zurich hospital to become the premier centre for the treatment of so-called ‘intersex’ children. It is this treatment, and, in particular, the clinical decision-making that is the centre of our article. This field of medicine was itself not stable. Rapid development of diagnostic tools led to the emergence of new diagnostic categories, the availability of new drugs changed the management of the children’s bodies and an increased number of medical experts became involved in decision-making, a particular focus lay with the role of the children themselves and of course with their families. How involved were children or their families in an era widely known as the golden age of medicine?

The recent suggestion that the late medieval Eurasian plague pandemic, the Black Death, had its origins in the thirteenth century rather than the fourteenth century has brought new scrutiny to texts reporting ‘epidemics’ in the earlier period. Evidence both from Song China and Iran suggests that plague was involved in major sieges laid by the Mongols between the 1210s and the 1250s, including the siege of Baghdad in 1258 which resulted in the fall of the Abbasid caliphate. In fact, re-examination of multiple historical accounts in the two centuries after the siege of Baghdad shows that the role of epidemic disease in the Mongol attacks was commonly known among chroniclers in Syria and Egypt, raising the question why these outbreaks have been overlooked in modern historiography of plague. The present study looks in detail at the evidence in Arabic sources for disease outbreaks after the siege of Baghdad in Iraq and its surrounding regions. We find subtle factors in the documentary record to explain why, even though plague received new scrutiny from physicians in the period, it remained a minor feature in stories about the Mongol invasion of western Asia. In contemporary understandings of the genesis of epidemics, the Mongols were not seen to have brought plague to Baghdad; they caused plague to arise by their rampant destruction. When an even bigger wave of plague struck the Islamic world in the fourteenth century, no association was made with the thirteenth-century episode. Rather, plague was now associated with the Mongol world as a whole.

During the 1960s and 1970s, the notion that the uterus is a useless and pathological organ after a woman has had ‘enough’ children emerged alongside news reports of excessive hysterectomy in Taiwan. This notion and hysterectomy became two sides of the same coin, the former pointing to the burden of birth control and cancer risk, and the latter to sterilization and removing cancer risk. I explore how, in post-war Taiwan, the notion became commonplace through the intersection of three historical formations: the medical tradition of employing surgery to manage risk (such as appendectomy for appendicitis), American-dominated family planning projects that intensified the surgical approach and promoted reproductive rationality, and cancer prevention campaigns that helped cultivate a sense of cancer risk. The gender politics operating in the family planning and cancer prevention projects were apparent. The burden of birth control fell mainly on women, and the cancer prevention campaign, centring almost exclusively on early detection of cervical cancer, made cancer into a woman’s disease. I argue that the discourses of reproductive rationality and disease risk were parallel and, in several key ways, intersecting logics that rendered the uterus useless and pathological and then informed surgeons’ practice of hysterectomy. Exploring the ways in which the uterus was envisioned and targeted in the history of medicine in Taiwan, this paper shows overlapping bio-politics in three strands of research in an East Asian context – namely women’s health, family planning and cancer prevention – and offers a case for global comparison.

This article discusses hearing disability in early modern Europe, focusing on medical ideas to demonstrate a profound shift in thinking about deafness over the course of the eighteenth century. Scholars have previously described changes in the social status of the deaf in the eighteenth century, pointing at clerics’ sympathy for the deaf and philosophers’ fascination with gestures as the origin of language, but there is remarkably little scholarship on the growing interest in deafness and hardness of hearing by physicians. From the seventeenth century onwards, however, medical men investigated earwax and mucus in the Eustachian Tube and developed theories about the propagation of sound waves via fluid airs and nervous juices in relation to hearing and deafness. This article argues that this focus on fluids brought about a new medical understanding of auditory perception, which viewed hearing and deafness not as dichotomous but as states along a continuous spectrum. As such, this article offers a new perspective on the study and treatment of hearing difficulties in early modern Europe, arguing that there was no solid dividing line between deafness and hearing; if anything, it was permeable and unstable.

During the last decades of colonial rule, Belgian colonial authorities, health agencies and researchers intensely engaged with kwashiorkor, a severe syndrome that was deemed widespread among young children in some parts of the Belgian Congo and Ruanda-Urundi and chiefly attributed to protein malnutrition. To fight kwashiorkor, the Belgian government, in the early 1950s, set up a joint milk distribution campaign with the United Nations International Children’s Emergency Fund, Food and Agriculture Organization and World Health Organization, the first of its kind in colonial Africa. Placing this campaign in the context of mounting international and inter-imperial concern about kwashiorkor and other nutritional problems in Africa and across the globe, this article explores its rationales, mechanisms and consequences, and in particular, how the campaign was shaped and publicised by FORÉAMI, one of the main health providers on the ground. It not only contributes to the history of European colonial medicine and nutritional policies, but also opens new perspectives on international health collaboration during late colonialism. It argues that Belgian authorities were wary of international interference in colonial policies, but that especially FORÉAMI also viewed and used the campaign as an opportunity to display its ‘mastery’ in rural and infant healthcare and control the narrative on Belgium’s colonial medicine.

From the 1930s, psychiatrists and sociologists documented the prevalence of Irish alcohol-related psychiatric admissions in the United States. These studies seemed to suggest that the Irish, as a race, had a remarkable relationship with drink, therefore reinforcing the enduring ‘drunken Irish’ stereotype. By the 1960s, the alleged Irish susceptibility to alcoholism gained increasing attention from researchers and officials in Ireland itself. Significantly, this renewed awareness coincided with a shift in Ireland’s place on the international landscape and was intertwined with the broader social, cultural and political environment. While anxieties about the apparently rising incidence of alcoholism and alcohol-related harm were not unique to Ireland, the specific cultural meanings attached to excessive drinking in a nation internationally renowned for this problem mapped onto shifting international frameworks, informing medical perceptions and shaping policy developments. This article explores expert and official interpretations of alcoholism and the ‘drunken Irish’ stereotype from 1945 to 1975. This period saw a number of important developments, including the introduction of the Irish Mental Treatment Act of 1945, the establishment of the Irish National Council on Alcoholism in 1966 and the creation of specialist alcohol treatment facilities in several psychiatric hospitals. In the same era, the contexts for understanding problem drinking began to shift from the disease concept of alcoholism towards the public health perspective on alcohol. As will be argued, in Ireland, these frameworks were coloured by concerns that social and cultural factors were contributing to rising levels of alcohol consumption and psychiatric admissions for alcoholism.

During the colonial period sexually transmitted infections (STIs) came to be recognised as a major public health problem in African cities. Thus, STI control and urban modernisation became deeply entangled as authorities redrew spatial and social boundaries to manage populations and their cross-cultural interaction. Public health measures, urban planning and policing were part of a coordinated effort to neutralise the potential impact of rapidly growing African urban migration on the Belgian Congo’s ‘model’ capital Leopoldville. While STI control was facilitated by new drugs (arsenicals, sulfonamides and antibiotics) to treat syphilis, chancroid, gonorrhoea and chlamydia (bacterial STIs), the effects of the 1929 economic crisis and urban social change illustrated the limits of colonial authority. Redesigning urban spaces and repressive measures to curb polygyny and prostitution operated in a parallel fashion with the expansion of health coverage, new treatments and awareness campaigns. To gain a better understanding of the evolution of STI incidence among African urban populations during the colonial period between 1910 and 1960, extensive archival records and secondary literature were consulted to assess the interplay between improved screening, diagnostic and therapeutic methods with demographic and social change. They show that STI rates, probably peaked during the pre-1929 period and apart from a short period in the early 1930s associated with mass screening, declined until becoming residual in the 1950s. Reflecting upon sanitary interventions and their broader dimensions, the article analyses the evolution of treatment regimes and their impact in the changing urban organisation and environment of the colony’s capital.