Cutting
the risk -- at last:
Researchers have known for
almost two decades that circumcised men face lower HIV-infection
rates than uncircumcised ones. Why has it taken so long
for anyone to act?
The Ottawa Citizen
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Page: C9
Section: Special Section
Byline: Alex Hutchinson
Source: The Ottawa Citizen
Series: Aids in Africa
As countries across
southern Africa prepare for an expected
surge in demand for adult male circumcision -- the result
of reports that the procedure may dramatically lower
the risk of HIV infection-- several questions arise:
How effective is it? Can mass circumcision be implemented
safely? Will traditionally
non-circumcising tribes accept the practice?
For some researchers,
however, the real question is simpler and
more troubling: Why has it taken almost 20 years for
such a simple intervention to gain acceptance?
"The initial
clinical observations were made back in the late
1980s," says Dr. Stephen Moses, a professor at
the University of
Manitoba who was working with a clinic for sexually
transmitted
disease in Kenya at the time. Among men who visited
the clinic, Dr. Moses noticed, HIV-infection rates were
much higher among
uncircumcised men than circumcised ones.
Since then, numerous
studies have shown that countries -- or even specific
tribes within countries -- with high circumcision rates
have fared better in the battle against AIDS than comparable
groups where circumcision is less common. The inner
side of the foreskin, it turns out, lacks a protective
layer of keratin and has a high density of receptor
cells through which HIV can enter the body.
But critics at
the time pointed out that comparing different
populations doesn't prove that circumcision, rather
than other
cultural differences, is what reduces HIV transmission.
It wasn't until
last year that results from a randomized clinical
trial became available: 3,274 uncircumcised men in South
Africa's Gauteng Province were enlisted in 2003, and
half of them were circumcised. The trial was halted
by an ethics board last year, after just 17 months:
the results were so clear, with a 60-per-cent reduction
in HIV infection among the circumcised group, that it
was deemed unethical to deny circumcision to the control
group. Based on those results, a study published last
month estimated that a mass circumcision program could
prevent two million new infections and 300,000 deaths
over the next 10 years in Africa.
Still, before taking
any policy decision, the World Health
Organization is waiting for the results of two further
clinical
trials, one in Uganda and another, co-led by Dr. Moses,
in Kenya.
Those studies' reports are expected next year.
"A lot of
people feel that the evidence really has to be
incontrovertible or indisputable before circumcision
can be
recommended, so the bar has been raised quite high,"
Dr. Moses says.
"It's probably
higher than I would like it to be raised. On the
other hand, you are dealing with a surgical procedure,
something
that's irreversible."
Given the evidence
in favour of circumcision and the lack of
effective alternatives, however, some researchers have
questioned why it wasn't pursued earlier. In 1999, Daniel
Halperin of the University of California, Berkeley,
and Robert Bailey of the University of Illinois published
a paper in the medical journal The Lancet titled "Male
circumcision and HIV infection: 10 years and counting."
In it, they warned that "by avoiding this issue
altogether, medical professionals and public-health
authorities may inadvertently be harming the very individuals
whom they are trying to help."
The reasons for
this hesitance may be related to the cultural
baggage that accompanies circumcision, says Ann Swidler,
a
sociologist at the University of California, Berkeley.
As a member of
the Canadian Institute for Advanced Research,
Swidler has been studying why it has taken so long for
male
circumcision to be taken seriously as a preventive measure
against AIDS.
"The idea
of a bunch of mostly white North Americans and Europeans
suddenly telling Africans, 'We want you all to circumcise'
just seems like right back to the old missionary, cultural
imperialist stance," she says.
This vague sense
of unease is compounded by the nature of the
procedure -- "Men cross their legs and make jokes
and dismiss the
whole thing," Swidler says -- and by the acrimonious
debate in the 1990s that led the American Academy of
Pediatrics and the Canada Paediatric Society to stop
recommending routine circumcision of newborns.
The benefits are
statistical -- 60-per-cent risk reduction --
rather than absolute, which makes results less immediately
obvious.
"You don't
come up to the man you circumcised five years ago and
say, 'You're HIV-negative! I saved your life!'"
Swidler says.
Some critics have
questioned whether mass circumcision would be practical
in tribes unused to the practice. But a series of
"acceptability studies" in countries across
the continent has shown a remarkable openness to the
idea -- an indication, perhaps, that people recognize
the overriding importance of the fight against AIDS.
"There really
aren't these absolute cultural taboos against it,"
says Dr. Moses, who hasn't had any trouble recruiting
men from the Luo tribe in Kenya -- a traditionally non-circumcising
group -- for his study. And models developed by Dr.
Moses's group show that even if only 50 per cent of
men in a population circumcise, it will have a strong
effect on preventing HIV.
Another concern
noted by the WHO is that "men may wrongly believe
that once circumcised, they are fully protected against
HIV, and thus fail to use condoms."
This is true, Dr.
Moses says, "but it would be true of any
HIV-prevention measure, even a vaccine." As a result,
it will be
crucial to provide adequate counselling and followup
along with the operation.
In addition, the
South African study already took that risk into
account: the 60 per cent reduction in HIV infections
occurred
despite the fact that the circumcised men did in fact
engage in more high-risk behaviour, Swidler points out.
Even if the benefits
of circumcision are accepted, the practical
difficulties remain. Any surgery, however minor, carries
the risk of complications -- especially if it's not
performed under ideal
conditions.
"There are
lots of horror stories of botched circumcisions, in
Africa and elsewhere, mostly ones that have been performed
by
untrained or unqualified practitioners who are just
trying to make some money," Dr. Moses acknowledges.
While other HIV
measures have benefited from existing
infrastructures -- family planning clinics were distributing
condoms throughout Africa long before AIDS, and drugs
are backed by powerful pharmaceutical companies -- the
means of circumcising millions of men will have to be
created nearly from scratch.
In Swaziland, which
at 33.4 per cent has the highest incidence of
HIV infection in the world, men aren't waiting on the
niceties of
medical certainty.
The first Sunday
in July was Circumcision Sunday at the Mbabane Government
Hospital, the latest in a series of efforts this year
by the Swazi government to respond to the demand for
the procedure. Drawn by newspaper ads targeting men
between 20 and 30 years old, hopeful patients started
lining up at 5:30 in the morning.
Working in two
operating theatres from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., a team of
five doctors and three nurses managed to operate on
30 men, with at least that many turned away. The marathon
effort made only a small dent in the hospital's waiting
list, which already stretches to December -- but it
had the important benefit of training two more doctors
in the once-arcane art.
Men in Swaziland
are not traditionally circumcised, so a program of mass
circumcision would require an estimated 40,000 circumcisions
per year for the next five years, says Dr. Adam Groeneveld,
who was hired by the Swazi government nine months ago
to be the country's first resident urologist.
"Forty-thousand
is a staggering number, but that's the way it is,"
he says. "We must find ways and means to achieve
it."