Why is sterilisation still being forced on transgender people?

Compensation demanded in Sweden.

A group of Swedish transgender people are demanding 42.6m kronor (approximately £4.8m) from the state for having been forced to be sterilised before undergoing gender reassignment surgery.

The individuals, part of the estimated 865 who were told to accept the procedure in order to have their gender recognized in law, also want an official apology from the government.

According to the Swedish Federation for Lesbian, Gay and Transgender Rights (RFSL), around 500 people were coerced into sterilisation between 1972 and 2012.

Speaking to AFP, RFSL leader Ulrika Westerlund said: "our starting point is to ask for 300,000 kronor per person. This amount is based on both the level of compensation for victims of forced sterilisation in Sweden and on the level determined by the European Court of Justice in similar cases."

The law finally changed in January this year following widespread outrage at the little known practice, and after the Stockholm administrative court of appeal ruled in December that it was unconstitutional.

Another report from the Council of Europe, created for the Committee on Social Affairs, Health and Sustainable Development of the Parliamentary Assembly, called the practice a "major abuse of human rights",  and stated that it had to stop.

While this could be seen as a welcome change to an outdated and unique situation, reality is far more depressing. The recent events in Sweden simply mean that it has joined the incredibly small minority of EU countries who do not demand that transgender people are sterilised, along with the United Kingdom, Spain and Portugal. Hungary does not demand it either, though it can be argued that the country tends to try and avoid the problem completely.

The issue was first raised on the EU level in 2010, when member states where told that they should review their policies, but sadly, the reports that followed indicated that most countries were very eager to ignore the issue.

Heavy criticisms also came from a report published by the United Nations Special Rapporteur on Torture, who called for countries to “outlaw forced or coerced sterilization in all circumstances” in February 2013. Once again, this did not lead to any reforms, or even promises of future changes.

One of the possible explanations behind this incredible unwillingness to abolish such a horrific and backwards practice would be the complete unawareness of the public on the subject. This was easily proved with the Swedish case, when a petition against forced sterilization posted online by AllOut easily reached nearly 80,000 signatures.

The obvious question to ask then, would be: why stop at Sweden? If this reform can be triggered relatively easily by informing people of what is happening, why is there such a deafening silence around the issue?

While LGBT organisations campaigning for equal marriage should be applauded, it would also be important to remember that there are a lot of pressing issues that need to be talked about, sooner rather than later.

Swedish transgender people are demanding 42.6m krona compensation. Photograph: Getty Images

Marie le Conte is a freelance journalist.

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He went in to report on crystal meth – before long, Luke Williams was hooked

The journalist moved into a house of meth addicts to investigate the drug. Within a month, he was using, too.

“I got a story, a very good story,” writes the young Australian journalist Luke Williams in the first chapter of his new book, The Ice Age. “Only it wasn’t the one I was expecting.” For three months in 2014, he lived in a house of crystal meth addicts in a suburb of Melbourne, Australia, to investigate the drug. Within a month, he had forgotten why he was there. He had become addicted himself.

What follows is a dizzying retelling of his experiences, which veers between stories of Williams’s psychotic episodes and facts about his drug of choice. His descent into addiction happened in a nondescript house in Pakenham, a suburb to the south-east of Melbourne – “one of the most badly affected meth areas in Australia”.

Williams, now 36, grew up nearby and went to school there. He already knew two meth users in the area well enough to rent a room with them – an out-of-work labourer called Smithy and his live-in ex-girlfriend Beck. It was they who gave Williams his first shot of crystal meth, less than three weeks into his stay.

The crystal form of methamphetamine, also known as “ice”, is an addictive and powerful stimulant that causes euphoria. It heightens alertness, energy and arousal, with comedowns that can lead to aggression and violence.

It has gained cultural significance in recent years because of the US television drama Breaking Bad, in which an otherwise mild-mannered and law-abiding chemistry teacher “cooks” and sells crystal meth. Yet not much is known about the long-term effects of the drug, which in some countries – such as the Czech Republic – is a graver problem than heroin. In the UK, crystal meth activity is low and mainly linked to the gay chemsex party scene, where drugs are used to enhance group sex experiences.


Photo: Scribe

The drug is linked to severe psychosis, which Williams experienced first hand. Detailed in his book in a neat little list, like a morbid twist on a teenage diary, are Williams’s delusions, entitled: “My psychotic ideas”. Some are harrowing. His conviction that his parents are trying to poison him, for example, which results in him threatening to kill them “with my bare f***ing hands”. Others are amusing: he abandons his journalistic endeavour almost immediately in the belief that his calling is to become a famous rap star.

“I think that I could maybe do spoken word, but rapping? No, no,” he chuckles, when he speaks to me via Skype from Nepal, where he is researching another story. He says that he wanted to investigate crystal meth use partly because he was bored. He had left journalism to work at a law firm, and his life “lacked a bit of kick”.

Although he describes himself as “white, middle-class [and] educated”, he was fixated by the characters from his youth on the city’s outskirts. “I missed [them] in the middle-class world; it seemed so polite and clean . . . I looked forward to getting back there, living cheap, and when I saw the state some of my friends were in, I was very curious to know what was going on with them. Nobody was writing about the working class and the underclass.”

Williams quickly shifted from observer to addict. In alarming and frank detail, his book tells of marathon masturbation sessions (his record was 16 hours), physical altercations and a thick fog of paranoia. He would search his name online and become convinced that anything written by, or about, the name “Luke Williams” involved him.

He became so obsessed with the memory of an ex-boyfriend called Nathaniel that he believed that Smithy had turned his ex “into a transsexual, so that he and his mates could have their way with the new female Nathaniel”.

After three months, Williams was kicked out of the house by an aggressive Smithy, who thought the journalist was stealing his cannabis (he wasn’t). The nearby hospital gave him no help, so Williams ended up on the streets. After a lot of persuasion, he eventually returned to safety with his parents. He has been recovering ever since.

There is talk of a crystal meth “epidemic” in rural and suburban areas of Australia, which has among the highest usage of the drug in the world. The number of people using it there tripled from 2011 to 2016, and 7 per cent of Australians over the age of 14 have reported using amphetamines or methamphetamines (in the UK, it’s 1 per cent).

Although Luke Williams’s story is an insight into one of the world’s most dangerous substances, it’s also a lesson in doing your research. The first time Williams took crystal meth, it was injected by one of his housemates and he believed that it was no different from powdered meth – more commonly known as speed – which he had been using occasionally to give him the energy to write.

The group called everything “meth”, regardless of what they were taking. “Our lingo just didn’t differentiate,” Williams tells me. “People don’t really understand the difference. I got the opportunity to say in the public domain that [crystal meth] is different . . . It eats away at your inside.”

The Ice Age: A Journey Into Crystal-Meth Addiction by Luke Williams is published by Scribe.

Anoosh Chakelian is deputy web editor at the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era