MASKING THE REAL ISSUE: How Privilege Has Warped Our View on Contagion and Quarantine.

The recent coronavirus pandemic has brought with it waves of conspiracy theories, protests, and ultimately clashing opinions from around the globe. Some of this is based in grassroots dissatisfaction, such as the Hyde Park anti-mask protest (attended by anti-vaxxers and flat-earthers alike), or the bizarre free-haircut protest in Michigan. Other times the disgruntlement came from the top, with Donald Trump one day refusing to don a mask, and the next seemingly having been persuaded, letting the world witness his followers performing a swift U-turn on their anti-mask opinions. Overall, some places seem to have encountered a fierce resentment and distrust of either domestic or foreign governments, with these feelings increasingly infiltrating the narrative of the coronavirus.

Depiction of a plague doctor: this 'costume' was unironically worn by anti-mask protestors.

This piece is not to argue with circulating theories and conspiracies or to forge a one of my own, but rather to look at a historical epidemic and gauge how our priorities have changed. Ultimately, it will demonstrate how taking modern medicine for granted has led us to a (perhaps overly) privileged position in which it is now our ‘right’ to reject its recommendations. I will be discussing the smallpox epidemic in America, in particular the effects on Native Americans, which witnessed the very first known example of biological warfare in the 18th century. Whilst smallpox and the coronavirus are incomparable as diseases, there are striking parallels and opposites that can be made of the two eras. Let’s just say nobody would have protested about a haircut when smallpox was ravaging the streets.

It is well-known that when Europeans invaded the Americas (starting in 1492), it brought a vast array of deadly diseases. The native population declined to 7% of its original size by the early 20th century, with 75% of these deaths having been caused by disease.[1] Whilst we must not forget about the 25% of these deaths that were caused by direct European intention and action, these figures demonstrate the devastating effects of epidemics.

Just like today’s virus, the smallpox epidemic was streaked with racism. Today, we hear of Trump calling SARS-CoV-2 the ‘Chinese virus’ or people we know personally being heckled in the street for being Chinese. Chinese takeaways saw a drop in profits, as if they were somehow at a higher risk of transmitting the coronavirus; the same did not happen to pizza places when Italy was at its worst. The racism of the smallpox epidemic, where I now focus on the 18th century spell in North America, is instead targeted at the main victims of the disease (as opposed to those who introduced it; we the Europeans!)

Francis Jennings, a historian, claimed that ‘the Europeans’ capacity to resist certain diseases made them superior, in the pure Darwinian sense.’[2] Archaeologist Bruce Trigger said that this was a ‘cruel and fantastic example of natural selection.’[3] Historian Alfred Crosby writes that ‘their customs and religions provided little help’, that Native Americans had ‘no concept of contagion’, and ‘did not practice quarantine.’[4] These academics died in 2000, 2006, and 2018 respectively; these are colonial opinions voiced by the modern mouth, and taught to students across the country. To claim that these diseases were in any way a form of natural selection, implying that Native Americans were weaker or not built to fend off disease, is a train of thought that is uncomfortably close to eugenics, and risks wiping out an era of devastation with a simple statement.

Native Americans fell to diseases in such large numbers because unlike Europeans, they were all revealed to it at the same time. This meant that people could not look after the sick or feed orphaned children, leaving whole families to die at once; this would have been the trouble with risking the ‘herd immunity’ approach, considering the strain on the NHS. More significantly, European disruption of native tribes, such as forcing them to move to reservations or banding them together for warfare, creating ecological ruin and taking supplies, meant that diseases were exacerbated to unprecedented levels.

One British man of this era even used smallpox as an intentional, biological weapon against Native forces during a conflict known as 'Pontiac's War.' Sir Jeffrey Amherst ordered Colonel Henry Bouquet in 1763 to ‘inoculate the Indians by means of blankets, well as to try every other method than can serve to extirpate this execrable race.’[5] Henry Bouquet confirmed this order was carried out when he wrote in his journal that ‘we gave them 2 blankets and a handkerchief out of the smallpox hospital. I hope it has the desired effect’; there were severe smallpox outbreaks in the tribes of Ohio shortly afterwards.[6] The word ‘extirpate’, employed here by Amherst, has severe implications, because as the Cambridge Dictionary tells us, this means to ‘to remove or destroy something completely.’[7] If you ever find yourself studying the treatment of Native Americans at the hands of the British, this example comes up time and time again. The deception behind gifting somebody blankets to intentionally infect them and their families with a fatal disease is something that was as abhorrent then as it is now. It demonstrates that the British saw themselves as superior, even though they were not only in a foreign land, but also equally susceptible to the disease.

A depiction of the exchange of gifts that included smallpox-infected blankets.

One thing has to be set straight: Native Americans did practice quarantine. The Cherokee practiced it continually, relying on their religious leaders to advise them against travelling to certain diseased locations.[8] In fact, it was the continual practice of quarantine that led to a resurgence of the Creek population in the later 18th century, with the epidemics of 1764 and 1779 successfully kept within the boundaries of certain towns.[9] The idea that Native Americans were unaware of quarantine as the best method of preventing the spread of disease is a colonial opinion. Colonists portrayed Native Americans as backward and savage, and hence unable to comprehend the importance of quarantine. This false portrayal has been passed on to modern historians, who fail to explain that white European treatments of smallpox included: bleeding, blistering, sweating, fasting, and medicines that varied from mercury to human excrement.[10] This isn't to mention that Native Americans were far from a priority when a smallpox vaccine was discovered.

So why is it that the descendants of the same Europeans who were disgusted at the supposed inability to practice quarantine, seeing it as the only way to prevent the spread of disease and protect themselves, now call upon their rights to avoid wearing a mask and to stop quarantining? Yes, it is a different disease, but the idea of contagion is no different, and the coronavirus has proved itself to be fatal.

This is something that can only be answered by the people themselves. It is probably in part a distrust of the government to tell them what to do, and a fear of being mind-controlled in a dystopian, 1984-like world. This is perhaps unsurprising when living under a government that one day tells you to clap for the National Health Service, only to dishonor this spectacle within a matter of weeks by quietly passing laws that completely discredit the service (such as hospital staff now having to pay for car parking.)

However, when it comes to masks, governments must be set aside to consider the real issue. A much more imminent and personal threat is the disease itself, and wearing a mask is a small price to pay to avoid this risk. As a healthy 21-year old, I am not terrified of the coronavirus as I am not in a susceptible group. It is not like smallpox, where the face becomes disfigured and leaves lifelong scars even if you survive. We also know that smallpox is far less discriminate in its victims than the coronavirus, the latter largely affecting the elderly or those with pre-existing health conditions. Moreover, I am fortunate to live in a country with free healthcare.

The effects of smallpox: does the invisibility of coronavirus symptoms make people more willing to take risks?

Yet, I still don’t want to have to use this healthcare, or for others to have to do so. I will wear a mask mostly for the sake of the vulnerable. It is the same principle as when somebody sits behind the wheel of a car sober, their safety may still be compromised if somebody else has taken the decision to drink and drive. Ultimately, it is only when everyone does their (very easy) bit that we know that each individual is safe. That is why I believe that those who are able to (as naturally there are exceptions) should actively choose to wear a mask. Not because the government said so, but because it is a small step that could save somebody else.

There are two things we therefore cannot do. The first is to circulate texts that propagate an idea of Native American fault and lack of agency surrounding the epidemics of colonial America. The second is to spread a narrative in which not wearing a mask is somehow standing up to government control. Modern doctors (not just governments) will tell you, the best way to stop people dying from an infectious disease is to contain it within the affected persons. They knew this in the era of the plague when villagers soaked their belongings in vinegar to avoid contaminating neighboring communities, and plague doctors wore those infamous long-nosed masks so as to not catch it off their patients. They knew this in the smallpox epidemic when they quarantined diseased people and intentionally infected others as a means of warfare. We certainly know it now. My haircut can wait.

A depiction of Pontiac and his men during 'Pontiac's War.' Their initial success is often forgotten.

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References:

[1] Russell Thornton, American Indian Holocaust and Survival, (Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press, 1987), 25-7 Guenter Lewy, ‘Were American Indians the Victims of Genocide?’, Commentary, Vol.118, No.2 (2004), 55-63, 56 [2] Francis Jennings, The Invasion of America: Indians, Colonialism, and the Cant of Conquest, (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1975), 22 [3] Bruce F. Trigger, ‘Comments on Henry Dobyns’, Current Anthropology, Vol.7, No.4 (1966): 440 [4] Alfred W. Crosby, ‘Virgin Soil Epidemics as a Factor in the Aboriginal Depopulation in America’, The William and Mary Quarterly, Vol. 33, No. 2 (1976): 289-299, 296 [5] Patterson, 220 [6] Kristine Patterson, Thomas Runge, ‘Smallpox and the Native American’, The American Journal of Medical Sciences, Vol.323, No.4 (2002): 216-222, 217 [7] Cambridge Dictionary, https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/extirpate [accessed 15/11/2019] [8] Paul Kelton, ‘Avoiding the Smallpox Spirits’, Ethnohistory, Vol.50 (2003), 45-71, 55-56 [9] ibid. 5 [10] Elizabeth Fenn, Pox Americana, (New York: Hill and Wang, 2001), 25

All pictures are linked to their original owner by URL. Having written my dissertation with a particular focus on the Native American experience of disease and racism, I am always open to know more about these topics. I welcome any further knowledge or varying opinions.