Without going into any details, Masa has apologised for=20 its past errors, reports Pat Sidley
THE Medical Association of South Africa (Masa) last=20 week apologised, seemingly out of the blue, for its=20 attitude during the apartheid years.
The apology has been a long time coming, and it did not=20 directly address the issues for which the organisation=20 has become infamous, being aimed rather at “persons=20 within and outside the medical profession who might, in=20 the past, have been hurt or offended by any acts of=20 omission or commission on Masa’s part “.
Masa stated that it had always been open to members of=20 all races but confessed: “… the Association remained=20 silent on race-based public policies affecting the=20 medical profession and the community.
The apology came during a speech made by Masa chairman=20 Dr Bernard Mandell at a banquet last Thursday night,=20 during the organisation’s annual conference — held=20 behind closed doors as usual. The apology was adopted=20 unanimously as a resolution the next morning.
Rather than rake up the past, Masa tried, by lightly=20 brushing over the territory, to let the skeletons in=20 its cupboard rest in peace.
No mention was made of its disgraceful behaviour in the=20 aftermath of the death of Steve Biko, nor of its=20 failure to defend any of the doctors who were subjected=20 to state harassment as a result of their work with=20 tortured detainees.=20
Masa’s problematic history includes its refusal to do=20 anything about the banning, in 1967, of Cape Town=20 medical academic, Dr Raymond Hoffenberg — who was=20 later knighted for his distinguished work in the UK,=20 where he was forced to flee, unable to work in South=20
It was the Biko affair, more than any other event,=20 which focused the international spotlight on South=20 Africa’s doctors and their ethical behaviour in an=20 apartheid environment. Although the event was primarily=20 a failure of the justice system, part of the focus fell=20 on the three district surgeons who had attended to the=20 dying Biko and to the statutory disciplinary mechanisms=20 of the South African Medical and Dental Council, as=20 well as the voluntary association, Masa, to which one=20 of the three, Dr Benjamin Tucker, belonged.
Tucker was exonerated by the council, and Masa refused=20 to condemn his behaviour, cancel his membership or=20 dissociate itself from the council’s findings,=20 resulting in the resignation of several prominent=20 members and precipitating the formation of the rival,=20 more politically attuned, National Medical and Dental=20 Association (Namda). The Biko affair resulted in Masa=20 having to resign its membership of the World Medical=20
In the same year, with the death in detention of=20 activist and doctor Neil Aggett, the focus of attention=20 was again Masa’s attitude towards political issues.
One of its members, however, continued to draw=20 attention to the issues which plagued the health of the=20 nation, but which Masa as an organisation failed to=20 notice. The late pathologist, Dr Jonathan Gluckman, who=20 remained a Masa office-bearer, but whose work on behalf=20 of dead detainees’ families brought him into contact=20 with the issues of the day, pointed in a speech to the=20 wider-ranging problems brought by segregation of health=20 facilities and fragmentation of hospitals.
In 1983, with criticism mounting, a report,=20 commissioned by Masa, on the medical care of prisoners=20 and detainees, was adopted. It finally drew attention=20 to the serious problems surrounding detainees and=20 prisoners, and made recommendations on how to deal with=20 the issues.
However, in 1985, Dr Wendy Orr, then a young district=20 surgeon in Port Elizabeth, brought an interdict against=20 prison authorities to stop them assaulting “her=20 patients”. She used the term deliberately to focus=20 attention on the fact that they were not merely=20 “detainees” or “prisoners”, but patients who required=20 medical attention. The case won her instant infamy=20 within government circles and she was effectively=20 stopped from doing her clinical work as a district=20
During the State of Emergency, however, Masa again=20 blotted its copybook by failing to take up the case of=20 Dr Paul Davis, who had refused to hand details to=20 police of young detainees he had visited and of whom 83=20 percent had been tortured.=20
In the court case which followed, the Supreme Court=20 upheld the view that patient confidentiality did not=20 apply under those circumstances and Davis was required=20 to hand the documents over. As it happened, they had=20 mysteriously evaporated and the case was closed — but=20 not before Masa had issued a statement referring to a=20 police raid on Alexandra Clinic and which again stated=20 that, while patient confidentiality was a high=20 priority, the law compelled doctors to hand records to=20 a higher authority.
Davis had, at the time, drawn up, with colleagues, a=20 protocol designed to help district surgeons examining=20 detainees to detect and deal with signs of torture or=20 other abuse. It was submitted to the South African=20 Medical Journal for publication but, along with several=20 other letters dealing with the issues of the day, had=20 its publication blocked.
Perhaps the most stunning indictment of the country’s=20 doctors during those years, was the fact, uncovered by=20 the previous Minister of Health, Dr Rina Venter, who=20 wanted to desegregate hospitals, that there was no law=20 on the statute books which had forced the segregation=20 of hospitals per se. In the end, hospitals had been=20 segregated by the willingness of doctors and other=20 health professionals to comply with an insane and=20 inhuman policy — and never to raise a murmer of=20