EXCLUSIVELY FOR MADAM PROFESSOR

ORIGINAL ARTICLE

Historiography and psychoanalysis

PER MAGNUS JOHANSSON

Department of History of Ideas and Theory of Science, Gothenburg University, Sweden

Abstract The act of writing the history of psychoanalysis poses crucial questions with regard to the openness of society. This article examines the fundamental issues faced by researchers when they set about writing the history of psychoanalysis in a specific country. The significance of reconstructing features of the psychoanalytical practice is discussed. The opposition that exists between the current academic ideals and those of the psychoanalytic societies is outlined with reference to the changes that society has undergone, particularly during the past 30 years. In this context, the stance maintained by psychoanalysts with regard to psychiatry, academic psychology, and the university education of psychotherapists is defined. Government accreditation processes for psychologists and psychotherapists are likewise illustrated in the light of the opinions held by psychoanalysts at different moments in time.

Key words: Archives, France, history of psychoanalysis, psychotherapy, Sweden, university

This article addresses some of the central questions

and issues that tend to arise during scholarly

attempts at documenting the history of psycho-

analysis. My intent is to illuminate the potential

issues brought to the fore in any given country while

recording the history of psychoanalysis. This piece

was prompted by my own efforts with regard to the

history of psychoanalysis in Sweden, a task that

has occupied my thoughts for more than a decade. I

have taken the opportunity to discuss these thoughts

whenever I have found myself in an academic

environment, or among researchers or psychoana-

lysts, in Gothenburg as well as in Paris.

During the past 15 years, for the most part in

Paris, the historian Elisabeth Roudinesco and I have

discussed the problems associated with writing the

history of psychoanalysis. It was Elisabeth who, in

the early 1990s, prompted me to take on the task of

writing the history of psychoanalysis in Sweden. She

paid her last visit to Gothenburg in September

2006, where we had a public discussion on the

theme ‘‘the historiography of psychoanalyses.’’ Over

the same period of time, I also shared my thoughts

with Sven-Eric Liedman, who, for the past 27 years,

has supervised research studies at the department of

History of Ideas and Sciences at the University of

Gothenburg. Our talks inspired me to carry out my

work with the history of psychoanalysis in Sweden. I

have also regularly had discussions on historiography

with the Swedish historian of psychology, Ingemar

Nilsson, active at the same department as myself and

Liedman.

Four overall aspects that ought to be taken into

consideration when describing the history of psycho-

analysis will be discussed here. To begin with, the

historian must form an opinion of psychoanalysis

from both an external and an internal perspective,

and then examine the consequences of the differ-

ences that appear. As a theory, psychoanalysis

has regularly drawn external and, to a large extent,

destructive criticism. When looking at psychoanaly-

sis over time, a picture of inner conflicts emerges. In

many countries, these conflicts have clearly marked

its path and make scientific assessment a difficult

task.

Second, the historian must consider the fact that

the training of psychoanalysts takes place within

private associations, and not in educational institu-

tions regulated by the state. Hence, there is no

accredited authorization for members of the psycho-

analytic profession, and no formal qualifications for

psychoanalysts exist. This results in a certain lack of

Correspondence: Per Magnus Johansson PhD, Haga Kyrkogata 26, 411 23 Göteborg, Sweden. E-mail: [email protected]

International Forum of Psychoanalysis. 2007; 16: 103�112

(Received 20 February 2007; accepted 26 February 2007)

ISSN 0803-706X print/ISSN 1651-2324 online # 2007 Taylor & Francis

DOI: 10.1080/08037060701300083

clarity as to who are entitled to call themselves

psychoanalysts. Thus, psychoanalytic associations

and their members often have a complex and

ambiguous relationship to the ideals of the academic

world. At the same time, the often-questioned

position of the private association, combined with

the universal and profoundly human need for

recognition, creates highly charged, sometimes ex-

plosive, personal ties between the various members

of the groups and with the representatives of

academic institutions.

Third, certain specific characteristics of the psy-

choanalytic theory must be taken into account: It

is both a theory pertaining to man as a cultural

being, and a theory pertaining to the treatment of

psychological distress. In other words, it is both a

theory and a practice. This in itself complex aspect is

expressed by the fact that the psychoanalytic trans-

mission of knowledge is effected verbally as well as

by way of the written word, and of the two, the

oral exchange is the most essential part. All in all,

this compels historians to devote themselves to

serious efforts involving in-depth interviews, a thor-

ough investigation of the available archives, and a

comprehensive analysis of the written material.

The transmission of psychoanalytic knowledge

brings the question of training and education to

the fore. My article also addresses the fact that

psychoanalytic training is distinguished by a close

relationship between the aspiring psychoanalyst and

his or her more experienced teachers and super-

visors, with particular reference to the very special

bond between the trainee/analysand and the training

analyst. Here, the importance of the oral transmis-

sion of knowledge becomes clearly apparent. Right

from the start, the training analysis itself and the

supervision of these sessions*both essential parts of the training process*are in conflict with standard academic educational structures. No third, indepen-

dent or unbiased party is present to observe what

takes place during this phase of the training, which

amounts to a procedure that goes contrary to the

ideals and demands of publicly regulated courses of

education. Instead, the prevailing ideal in psycho-

analytic theory emphasizes this close relationship as

the starting point and necessary prerequisite to

obtain a deeper knowledge of the candidate’s un-

conscious wishes and conflicts.

The fourth aspect is the question of the archives.

This will be discussed, as will its relationship to the

three other abovementioned aspects. The archives,

which can be defined as the actual physical space in

which written records and other kinds of testimo-

nials of the psychoanalytic movement have been

preserved, have a crucial function in understanding

the history of psychoanalysis. All four of these

aspects have their implications with regard to histor-

iography.

Presently, psychoanalysis has been introduced in

approximately 35 countries, but its history has been

recorded in only a few of these, such as France,

Sweden, and the USA. In several countries, the

accounts are only partial or fragmental. There are

several difficulties inherent in portraying the history

of psychoanalysis, and the work is time-consuming

and demands much patience. I will, in line with the

structure outlined above, describe how these diffi-

culties are manifested and, at the same time, provide

some explanations of their origin and nature.

I will attempt to decipher some of the issues within

the aforementioned problem areas with the help of

dichotomies and oppositions that characterize both

psychoanalysis and the work involved in reconstruct-

ing the history of psychoanalysis. The first dichot-

omy is the one that exists between external and

internal problems. Let us begin with the external

circumstances.

An assessment of psychoanalysis

Initially, it must be established that anyone who

takes an interest in psychoanalysis in any of its

configurations addresses a theory that is regularly

attacked and subjected to unyielding criticism by

academicians, particularly those with a foundation

in the natural sciences. This criticism comes from

sources such as psychiatrists rooted in biologistic

thinking, academic psychologists, analytic philoso-

phers, and, furthermore, journalists from different

subject fields; the list is by no means complete.

Other groups or individuals regularly engage in the

criticism of psychoanalysis. These critics have, for

reasons not always altogether clear, taken upon

themselves the task of repudiating Sigmund Freud

(1856�1939) as well as any psychoanalyst who, in one way or another, makes references to the founder

of psychoanalysis. These critics appear to be on a

mission: to fervently refute psychoanalysis.

At the same time, there is another group*often belonging to an individual psychoanalytic society or

organization*that sees it as their duty to defend psychoanalysis against any and every form of criti-

cism. They make references to psychoanalysis, to

Sigmund Freud, Melanie Klein, Jacques Lacan, the

neo-Freudians or Heinz Kohut (1913�1981) and a few others, but cannot, or will not, discuss the

relevance of psychoanalysis, its place in the history

of ideas and its limitations.

The actual or perceived shortcomings of psycho-

analysis are seen as an insurmountable threat. These

defenders of psychoanalysis fail to realize that every

theory has evolved in a historical context. In addition

104 P. M. Johansson

to this, they appear to have difficulty understanding

that parts of the theory are coloured by variable

economic, ideological, and social circumstances.

More challenging still for these defence attorneys

of psychoanalysis is putting psychoanalytic theory

in its context with regard to the history of ideas,

and recognizing the precursors of the theory of

the unconscious. They have also found it difficult

to acknowledge the fact that other authors, such as

those within the fields of science or literature, have

written about issues and questions that psycho-

analysts see as belonging to their special sphere of

interest and expertise. Accordingly, psychoanalytic

theory has not had enough exposure to the changing

reality it is supposed to understand, and, as a result,

theoretical work has become stagnant. It has become

difficult for the defenders of psychoanalysis to

comment on current and essential issues. In addition

to this, they do not know how to respond to new

empirical findings.

Between these two factions, the critics and the

defenders of psychoanalysis, there is a long history of

mutual suspicion and destructive criticism. In the

eyes of an independent researcher, their clashes

appear to be sadly lacking in intellectual vitality, and

they rarely appear to be an expression of a scientifi-

cally interesting dispute or an exchange of ideas. Both

sides seem more interested in fortifying their own

position, and they exhibit a lack of interest in the

thoughts and writings of the other side. Those on the

outside tend to be biased against psychoanalytic

theory and, in line with their preconceived ideas,

discard it too rashly. Those on the inside appear to

have lost their powers of discrimination, and seem

unable to put the psychoanalytic theory in its histor-

ical context. The two groups complement each other,

yet there is no true scientific or intellectual exchange.

Conflicts

Yet another task the historian must undertake is to

try to understand the conflicts that have arisen, and

still arise, in the wake of psychoanalysis. These

conflicts involve the previously described unproduc-

tive disputes between psychoanalysts and those on

the outside who have decided to take exception

to psychoanalysis. In part, we are talking about

conflicts between psychoanalysts. With regard to

psychoanalytic associations, these conflicts have

occasionally resulted in a rift within these societies

and the rise of new societies. Internal upheaval is

expressed by certain members or factions breaking

away from the society. Conflicts of this nature exist

in most countries where psychoanalysis has been

introduced. So, let us attempt to paint a broad

overview of the situations in France and in Sweden.

Psychoanalysis was introduced into France during

the 1920s, and in 1926, the International Psycho-

analytical Association (IPA)-associated and still

active Société psychanalytique de Paris (SPP) was

formed. In France, the foremost source of conflict

stems from the early 1950s, due to the controversy

arising between those who chose to follow Jacques

Lacan (1901�1981) on his path in developing a new and original contribution to psychoanalytic theory,

and those who chose not to do so.

In 1953, the Société Française de psychanalyse was

founded as a result of a dispute between psycho-

analysts within the SPP concerning lay-analysis,

that is whether it should be possible to work as a

psychoanalyst without being trained as a medical

doctor. (This conflict we know has been important

within the psychoanalytic movement from the 1920s

and onwards, Sigmund Freud raising the issue as

early as in 1926 in The question of lay analysis (1926/

1940�1952).) For 10 productive years between 1953 and 1963, psychoanalysts with different points

of view then worked together.

This structure subsisted until the next inevitable

institutional division presented itself, and the French

psychoanalysts concerned found themselves again

unable to work within the same society. This was a

division in which the controversy surrounding Lacan

played a decisive role, and which finally resulted in

the banning of Lacan as a training analyst (in

Stockholm, 1963). In 1964, some psychoanalysts

chose to join the then newly founded French, IPA-

associated, society L’Association psychanalytique de

France . Others chose to follow Lacan and joined

the École freudienne de Paris (EFP), a society he

founded in the same year. Five years later, indivi-

duals from Lacan’s newly-founded society joined

forces with other professionals from outside the

circle around Lacan, and founded the Organisation

psychanalytique de langue française . This has contin-

ued to be known as Quatrième Groupe , the designa-

tion by which it was initially described. After

the dissolution of the EFP in 1980, a number of

psychoanalytic societies and schools appeared in

France. At the time this article was written, some

20 established psychoanalytic societies presently

exist in France; most were founded in the 1980s

and are based in Paris.

In Sweden, the conflicts of the 1950s led, in the

1960s, to a division of the Swedish Psychoanalytical

Society into two separate societies. A holistically

inspired society emerged from the Swedish Psycho-

analytical Society. Owing to internal and organiza-

tional conflicts within the Swedish Psychoanalytical

Society, a working group was formed in 1963. Their

efforts led, in 1968, to the formal formation of the

Swedish Society for Holistic Psychotherapy and

Historiography and psychoanalysis 105

Psychoanalysis (Svenska Föreningen för Holistisk

Psykoterapi och Psykoanalys ). The original society

(which kept its old name) remained associated with

the IPA, while the new society emerged as a non

IPA-associated psychoanalytic society. At the 2001

International Psychoanalytic Congress in Nice, the

society*which by then had 75 members*applied for IPA membership. It did so under a new name,

Svenska psykoanalytiska sällskapet (the Swedish Psy-

choanalytic Association). The application was pre-

sented to the IPA after a period of collaboration with

the Swedish Psychoanalytical Society in scientific

matters during the 1990s. The association was

granted membership as a Provisional Society within

the IPA in 2001. It had previously been associated

with the International Federation of Psychoanalytic

Societies. Now, in 2007, the possibility of the two

Swedish psychoanalytic societies uniting and becom-

ing one association is being discussed.

Obviously, the internal conflicts have taken differ-

ent expressions in different countries and at different

times. 1

However, they share a common denomina-

tor: the fact that various transference relationships

have been impossible to analyse. Instead, relations

have become charged with emotion, often to the

point at which people have felt offended and

pressured to the limit. Disappointment and resent-

ment directed at former colleagues have forced the

combatant psychoanalysts to go their separate ways.

Many times, as pointed out earlier, this has resulted

in the forming of new psychoanalytic societies. In

accordance with the title of Elisabeth Roudinesco’s

two books about psychoanalysis in France, the 20 th

century could justly be characterized as the ‘‘One-

hundred-year battle’’.

Writing the history of psychoanalysis is conse-

quently often writing about a theory, represented by

persons who are, or have been, in conflict with each

other. Several of these conflicts are often described

as controversy over theoretical or technical matters.

Some of these conflicts have their actual basis in

theoretical opposition, although not all of them

do. The individual players*the psychoanalysts involved*are often convinced that the point of contention has crucial importance. I maintain, how-

ever, that it is highly doubtful whether the majority

of these conflicts are indeed of a theoretical nature.

This consequently leaves the historian with a range

of questions to consider, such as: What is concealed

behind a particular theoretical conflict? And what is

its actual content?

It is of great importance to recognize that no

historian can avoid being influenced by a situation

marked by contention and controversy, particularly

when coupled with the concept that one must adopt

a stance, either for or against, regarding a specific

issue (although, naturally, historians are not the only

individuals affected by such a situation). Under such

premises, it is also reasonable to apply psycho-

analytic thinking and assume that significant por-

tions of this influence act out on an unconscious

level. However, the fact that an influence is operative

on the unconscious does not make it any less

effective or dramatic. Anyone attempting to record

the history of psychoanalysis should keep this in

mind.

Universities and psychoanalysis

The relationship between academia 2

and the psycho-

analytic societies has also been marred by all sorts

of conflict. In most countries, there are stories

about psychoanalysts who have felt themselves to

be ill-treated by the academic power elite. In many

cases, psychoanalysts have experienced a sense of

being oppressed or restrained by academia. Their

reactions have ranged from dissociating themselves

completely from the university sphere, to nourishing

a fervent hope of gaining a place in the academic

world of research, or in some cases, even both.

Thus, it is important to take fundamental differ-

ences into account, with regard to the predominant

academic tradition among psychiatrists and psychol-

ogists, which principally verifies and falsifies hypoth-

eses, compared with the approach within the

psychoanalytic sphere. Psychoanalytical theory is

not regarded as being an evidence-based theory.

These two traditions are based on separate scientific

ideals and different ways of dealing with the question

of truth.

The fact that the training of psychoanalysts takes

place outside the bounds of the university, in

societies run by the psychoanalysts themselves, and

not infrequently by leaders with a vested interest in

the institution, has created a climate of suspicion on

the part of people outside these societies. The

additional fact that Sigmund Freud, and his heirs,

attached a fundamental value to what is known as

training analysis*the analysis undertaken by the aspiring psychoanalyst under the tutelage of an

older, experienced psychoanalyst*as a means of achieving professional skills, has also cast a measure

of suspicion on the profession, since this essential

part of the training does not incorporate any

monitoring processes conducted by a third party.

An additional aspect to consider is that the training

analysis process generally has a great deal of impact

on the future of the aspiring psychoanalyst.

The predominant academic and scientific tradi-

tion is marked by a pronounced appreciation of

objectivity and impartiality, and the ambition to

make as clear a distinction as possible between what

106 P. M. Johansson

is true or false. In addition to this, there is an

insistence on either verifiable or falsifiable hypoth-

eses. This tradition depends on, and puts its

faith in, experiments, control groups, observation,

testing or similar instruments to produce responses

to hypotheses and questions. Its representa-

tives frequently take exception to psychoanalysis.

Reservations may exist as to whether the personal,

individual clinical experience can indeed generate

universally applicable knowledge, a body of knowl-

edge that goes beyond the particular case at hand.

In some cases, these reservations are replaced by

a firm conviction that such individual cases can

in no circumstances provide evidence to support

a theory. Representatives of traditional scientific

thinking find it difficult to see the capacity for

generalized knowledge that this mode of procedure

gives rise to.

For a long period of time, psychoanalysts have

taken no interest in the standards and demands of

the academic world, and have not infrequently

looked down on anyone who has adopted those

ideals. The exclusive ideal has been to work full time

as a psychoanalyst in private practice and to be as

independent as possible, that is to have little or

no connection with academia or public ventures.

During certain periods, this ideal of independence

prevailed within certain individual psychoanalytic

societies, and psychoanalysts whose activities were

linked to the public sphere were regarded with

suspicion. In several societies, psychoanalysts have

failed to see the value inherent in their members

having various orientations and different types of

assignment. There has been a tendency to look at

private practice as opposed to employment within

the public sphere. The lack of governmental accred-

itation with regard to the psychoanalytic profession

has also been an important factor.

Psychoanalysts and accreditation

Any individual committing fully to a psychoanalytic

journey needs to realize that this process will involve

certain risks, a fact that is true for most commit-

ments where something is at stake. The individual

who makes a sincere attempt will find that becoming

a psychoanalyst is not only time-consuming and

expensive; it also requires a substantial amount of

commitment and courage. Moreover, there are no

guarantees that the venture will end in success.

This does not distinguish psychoanalysis from

other psychotherapeutic pursuits, 3

but the stakes

with regard to time and money invested are generally

higher during the psychoanalytic training experience

compared with the corresponding training process

for a psychotherapist.

Therefore, it can be argued that psychoanalytic

training involves a greater risk. In several countries,

psychoanalysts have periodically found themselves

facing opposition from society and the establish-

ment, which, again, is the case at the beginning of

the 21 st

century.

The position of psychoanalysis has changed over

time, as we know. Its situation has varied in different

ways in different countries. After the Second World

War, psychoanalysis gained a strong position in the

USA, where it was integrated into academic psy-

chiatry. In Sweden as well, psychoanalysis had a

prominent position between 1960 and 1990. In spite

of this favorable situation, Swedish psychoanalysts

failed to build a foundation for their successors, a

point of departure from which they could partake

in a fruitful scientific exchange of ideas in times

of change. In France, the untiring work of Jacques

Lacan to create a dialogue with a number of other

disciplines has accomplished the following: in

France today, psychoanalysis still holds a strong

position and a given place in public debate.

Of significance in the present context is also the

fact that any account of the history of psychoanalysis

is simultaneously the history of a profession without

any official authorization/accreditation. This matter

has split psychoanalysts into two camps, and here

another dichotomy becomes apparent. Some forces

have worked to establish a governmental authoriza-

tion process for psychoanalysts. Others have main-

tained that any need for governmental authorization

and/or approval in this respect is irreconcilable

with psychoanalytic theory and ethics. In France,

there is an ongoing discussion between the adherents

of these two positions, a discussion that also aspires

to understand and clarify the difference between

psychoanalysis and psychotherapy. In Sweden, dur-

ing the 1950s, a group of psychoanalysts from the

Swedish Psychoanalytical Society lobbied for an

accreditation of the psychoanalytical profession that

would be issued by the government. Although their

efforts came to nothing at that time, the idea of

establishing such an authorization for psychoanalysts

has not been completely abandoned within the

psychoanalytic community.

It should be mentioned that the majority of

Swedish psychoanalysts are either medical doctors

or psychologists as well; these two professions

represent the most common educational foundation

for psychoanalysts in Sweden, as in many other

countries. Consequently, psychoanalysts have, in

most cases, been able to support their authority

with the help of another registered profession. In the

beginning, most psychoanalysts were physicians.

Today, many members of the Swedish Psychoanaly-

tical Society are physicians, but, since 1978, many

Historiography and psychoanalysis 107

have been as likely to be psychologists and registered

psychotherapists. The latter form of authorization

has existed since 1985. However, these profess-

ional authorizations have very little relevance

when it comes to the view held by psychoanalytic

societies on who has the right to call themselves a

psychoanalyst.

Within these societies, the view is often expressed

that psychoanalysis and psychotherapy are two

different things. Nevertheless, since 1985, most

Swedish psychoanalysts have been equipped with

some form of double authorization. Furthermore,

the two Swedish psychoanalytic societies both

provide training for psychotherapists leading to a

governmental accreditation in that profession, so

the relationship between psychoanalysis and psy-

chotherapy is still somewhat unresolved in Sweden.

Thus, a Swedish psychoanalyst is typically either a

physician and a registered psychotherapist, or a

psychologist and a registered psychotherapist.

This situation presents certain finer points that

must be considered. Throughout the entire 20 th

century, the majority of psychoanalysts have been

highly critical of psychologists and psychotherapists,

and of those psychiatrists who do not incorporate

psychoanalysis into their profession. This criticism

reflects the thought that these occupational titles

indicate the existence of separate disciplines with

disparate concepts of truth. Their therapeutic goals

may also be described being different. These alleged

differences notwithstanding, there have been signifi-

cant financial and prestige benefits in store for

psychoanalysts who are also physicians. Being a

physician has, in various situations, been useful. To

some extent, this also applies to registered psychol-

ogists, even if, due to the lesser amount of prestige

attached to the latter profession, and a generally

lower income level, the benefits are less obvious.

Furthermore, in the history of psychoanalysis*as illustrated by a Swedish example I have discussed in

earlier publications (Johansson, 1999, pp. 611�618; 2006, pp. 13�16)*one often comes across categor- izations such as ‘‘a real psychoanalyst,’’ as opposed

to ‘‘a so-called psychoanalyst,’’ or a person who

‘‘calls himself a psychoanalyst’’ but who ‘‘is not really

a psychoanalyst’’ but ‘‘merely a psychodynamic

psychotherapist’’, according to the speaker. Here

too, we have two parallel structures. There have been

examples of psychoanalysts who, within a particular

society, have taken upon themselves to informally

determine which members ‘‘truly’’ work and think as

psychoanalysts, and which members have strayed

too far from what is considered to be authentic

psychoanalytic practice, thereby allowing the ideals

and demands of society to trigger concessions that

are too great.

According to commentators from inside these

circles, there are individuals who call themselves

psychoanalysts but who in fact are not ‘‘real’’

psychoanalysts, even though they have completed

the formal training stipulated by the society, and

even though they are approved by its decision-

making authority. It is also not uncommon for

members of a particular society to entertain the

fundamental idea that their own members, who

are trained within their society or within another

‘‘approved’’ society, are the ‘‘real’’ psychoanalysts,

whereas others merely use the title of psycho-

analyst without truly being one (Norman, 1992,

pp. 268�277). This type of behavior has emerged in times when

psychoanalysts have been in demand, and there has

been a pronounced interest in psychoanalysis. Cate-

gorizations of this type tend to recede in urgency

when psychoanalysis finds itself less in demand and

more called into question. A decline in demand may

express itself as a lack of opportunity, making it

difficult for young, not yet established psychoana-

lysts to find a sufficient number of analysands. At the

same time, however, established psychoanalysts

appear to be less productive and passionate with

regard to the psychoanalytic adventure and the

responsibility for the psychoanalytical heritage and

genealogical transmission, that is, in acting for the

future of psychoanalysis. The abovementioned inter-

nal deauthorization is a part of the course of

psychoanalytic history; it needs to become*for the historian as well as for members of the psycho-

analytic societies*an object of intellectual analysis and not repression. It remains to be seen what the

future will bring in this respect.

The transmission of knowledge*theory and practice

An important aspect, and one that frequently gen-

erates opposition, is the fact that psychoanalysis is

both a theory and a practice. Psychoanalysis offers

both a theory about the treatment of individuals with

psychological distress, and a theory of how we, as

human beings, try to find various ways of expressing

ourselves, both in solitude and in the company of

others. Through this ambiguity, psychoanalysis be-

comes a theory that, in part, deals with man as an

enigmatic creature experiencing a sense of lack, who

is thus compelled to gain access to culture. Addi-

tionally, it is a therapeutic technique that, in spite of

a prevailing climate of resistance, has been designed

in relation to psychoanalytic theory, in other words a

practice that generates empirical information.

In this context, it is important to remember that

researchers who devote their time to writing the

108 P. M. Johansson

history of psychoanalysis will end up focusing mainly

on clinicians who have applied themselves to writing

as well. Consequently, when studying the history

of psychoanalysis, one should study how psycho-

analysis was introduced in a particular country

by way of its cultural avenues, universities, philoso-

phy, and literature: the intellectual introduction

of psychoanalysis. On the other hand, one should

also study its introduction by way of treatment

aspects; what one might call the medical introduc-

tion. During the first half of the last century, this

medical introduction was principally associated

with psychiatry, but after the Second World War,

clinical psychology and psychotherapy also opened

up other medical introductions. This ambiguity

makes it imperative for the historian to possess

a broad base of in-depth expertise. In order to

understand psychoanalysis, it is vital to process the

intellectual and the medical introduction with the

same level of knowledge.

The division between theory and practice is also

present in connection with psychoanalytic training.

The candidates study a variety of classic psycho-

analytic texts, they receive supervision and tutoring

with regard to their own work with patients, and, last

but not least, they undergo a training analysis. In this

way, the body of knowledge pertaining to psycho-

analysis is transmitted by way of both the written and

the spoken word. This is, as previously mentioned,

another important factor to consider, one which

complicates the historiography process. In order to

obtain a balanced and nuanced picture of the history

of psychoanalysis with regard to how it relates to the

present situation, scholars are required to recon-

struct and analyse the underlying theories as well as

the practical applications.

Historians must analyse relevant theoretical texts

or other documents that are important from a

historical point of view*such as transcripts, regula- tions, letters, and other written communications* originating from the period of interest, and interview

people who are part of this history as well. Archives

can be the best option with regard to regulations

and the documentation of society matters. Conse-

quently, researchers need access to the relevant

archives. In other words, historical work consists of

textual analysis, a conscientious interview process

and the thorough exploration of archives. I will

return to these aspects in greater detail later on.

Textual analysis

An important and complex issue, and one that is

relevant in all research pursuits, concerns the assess-

ment of the significance of individual texts. This is

another instance in which, when writing the history

of psychoanalysis, academic standards pertaining to

the treatment of scientific criteria and the need for

transparency may be in conflict with the standards

and criteria of the psychoanalytic societies. The fact

that a substantial proportion of the books and

articles written by psychoanalysts have not generally

been subjected to scrutiny by university-based pro-

fessionals or close examination by any other public

agency can further complicate the issue. It is not

uncommon that texts that are held in high esteem

by psychoanalytic societies and the psychoanalysts

who hold leading positions within them are not

attributed the same value by the university.

Such cases can be found in every country where

psychoanalysis is established. On an international

level, several examples exist. Melanie Klein (1882� 1960) and Sándor Ferénczi (1873�1933) are two psychoanalysts who are highly regarded by many

currently practicing psychoanalysts as contributors

of crucial knowledge when it comes to understand-

ing the inner world of children, the darker sides of

the human psyche, and the possibility of change

through psychotherapeutic treatment. However,

their contributions are largely disregarded by most

classical, medical, and psychological departments

at universities around the world. This discrepancy

is not without significance for scholars facing the

task of writing the history of psychoanalysis. Numer-

ous similar examples, as well as national instances,

abound. This requires independent thinking on the

part of historians during textual analysis.

Interviews and assessment

Another significant issue is the evaluation of the

achievements of a particular psychoanalyst with

regard to his or her practice. What has he or she

accomplished as a practicing psychoanalyst, training

analyst, teacher, and supervisor? How should this

person’s input be assessed? The historian is faced

with the delicate task of trying to chisel out a

balanced opinion of a body of work that, in part,

can only be evaluated by studying individual testi-

monies, and for which confirmation from an inde-

pendent third party is non-existent. This task will

instead fall upon the historian. Paul Roazen (1936� 2005) was a pioneer in the field of interviewing

subjects who, in different ways, had experience of

psychoanalytical practice. In both Brother animal.

The story of Freud and Tausk (1969) and Freud and

his followers (1971), he shows the importance of

interviews in the reconstruction of psychoanalytical

history.

At the same time, one should remember that any

scholar writing about the history of psychoanalysis

will be focusing on clinicians who have also been

Historiography and psychoanalysis 109

writers. The latter aspect*the main focus on psychoanalysts who have been published*is a pre- requisite for anyone who intends to partake in an

academic context. In reconstructing the history of

psychoanalysis, one writes about subjects who have

recorded their observations and conclusions in writ-

ing and who, in addition to this, have had a clinical

practice. Thus, it comes down to making an assess-

ment of the sum of activities and achievements of

a particular psychoanalyst.

Some individuals who clearly have a place in the

history of psychoanalysis in France and who have

also been published are: Françoise Dolto (1908� 1988), Jacques Lacan (1901�1981), Serge Leclaire (1924�1994), Maud Mannoni (1923�1998), and François Perrier (1922�1990). In Sweden, five comparable examples are Ola Andersson (1919� 1990), Stefi Pedersen (1908�1980), Lajos Székely (1904�1995), Alfhild Tamm (1876�1959), and Pehr Henrik Törngren (1908�1965). All of these individuals engaged in clinical practice and wrote

books and/or articles.

Yet it is vital to keep in mind that all the various

texts written by practicing psychoanalysts are not

necessarily of the same value or consequence as

their practical work; that is the work they have

accomplished as psychoanalysts in private practice,

and the position they have achieved in this respect.

Under these premises, most of the psychoanalysts

who deserve consideration have also held a position

of some importance within a psychoanalytic society

and, consequently, at an educational institution. In

my opinion, the institutional experience of the

various subjects appears to colour the evaluation of

the importance of a particular psychoanalyst as a

scientifically important writer. In other words, the

very fact that he or she has been an influential person

invested with real or imaginary importance and

power within an organization paves the way for a

more positive evaluation of his or her scientific

achievements than would have been the case had

this person’s position been less prominent. Addi-

tionally, it is not uncommon for individual psycho-

analysts to rewrite their own history against a

backdrop made up of the institutional disputes in

which they have been involved, thus rendering it

difficult indeed to produce a balanced account of the

historical matter at hand.

Similar processes do, of course, occur in the

academic world as well. However, I maintain that

the structures that exist to counteract these tenden-

cies are more fragile within the psychoanalytic

societies. Obviously, some psychoanalysts leave a

more significant imprint by way of their writings

than through their practice. A Swedish example is

Ola Andersson; his efforts are characterized by a

more unusual set of circumstances that generally do

not lead to a retrospective inflation of the value of the

researcher’s work by analysands, students or pa-

tients.

Then, as we know, it happens that an individual

psychoanalyst succeeds in achieving results of deci-

sive importance for an analysand in the course of

the latter’s training analysis. Psychoanalysis can

sometimes amount to a life-changing experience.

For natural reasons, it is extremely difficult for

the trainee to express an objective, unbiased, and

judicious opinion about articles or books written by

this training analyst. A person’s judgment is always

filtered through his or her personal experience, and

this is also true of the transference process. This

transference can be symbolic as well as imaginary* structured according to what French psychoanalysts

called the ‘‘symbolic transference’’ or coloured

mainly by the imaginary field. In the first instance,

there is a need for judiciousness and the assessment

of veracity. In the second instance, the personal

experience and its impact is pivotal*aspects that may interfere with impartiality and correctness, and

make it difficult for the person to act in a suitably

discerning manner.

There are, of course, intermediate forms between

these extremes. Nevertheless, it is not uncommon

that when interviewing analysands, pupils or rela-

tives of an individual psychoanalyst, the historian

will sometimes hear opinions that have lost touch

with the demand for consensus that is normative

within the university and/or in the public sphere. In

such circumstances, the historian needs to be aware

of these pitfalls to reach a sound assessment.

Archives: their place in relation to historical research

Yet another important factor connected to the

writing of the history of psychoanalysis is, as men-

tioned previously, the question of archives. The

status of the archives can be regarded in relation to

the previously discussed conflicts, and the ambig-

uous position of psychoanalysis: the fact that it is a

theory about what I call ‘‘the mysterious human

being’’ as well as a form of treatment, supported by a

theory and with its own distinctively elaborated

technique. Several archives have been closed to

researchers who are not members of a particular

psychoanalytic society. Within the school founded by

Lacan*formally dissolved in 1980*the archival material is even more difficult to assess. For example,

Elisabeth Roudinesco (personal communication) ran

into a number of difficulties when she tried to gain

access to archival material while writing the history

of psychoanalysis in France: she was repeatedly met

with silence, and her letters were left unanswered.

110 P. M. Johansson

Researchers who have gained access to archives

associated with a national psychoanalytic society

have done so with the assistance of members in

leading positions, individuals who have entrusted

them with the material even though they are not

members of the society in question. Furthermore,

those responsible for Freud’s remaining letters have

chosen to keep part of his correspondence secret.

Consequently, a portion of Freud’s history is still

subject to censorship today. Many national psycho-

analytic societies keep their archives closed to non-

members and independent researchers, and have

done so for an extensive period of time. The

Sigmund Freud Archives in Washington DC have

been closed in a similar way. Reviewers and re-

searchers are waiting for the complete correspon-

dence between Freud and his wife, Martha, to be

published. Until fairly recently, the correspondence

between Freud and his daughter, the psychoanalyst

Anna Freud (1895�1982), and the complete corre- spondence between Freud and two of his pupils* Karl Abraham (1877�1925) and Max Eitingon (1881�1943)*was not available. Although more than 67 years have passed since the death of

Sigmund Freud, his correspondence has not ceased

to attract interest.

Furthermore, there is good reason to assume that

most uncensored archives are not to be found at

the national societies. The material has often

been dispersed and is in the possession of various

members. To be granted access to these particular

sources, the historian needs to obtain the trust of the

owner of the archive. The custodian of the material

must be motivated by an obligation towards trans-

parency and the disclosure of the truth in order

to put his personal archive at the historian’s disposal.

With some luck and a number of convincing

credentials, the scholar can gain access to uncen-

sored and extremely rewarding archives that will

provide information of significant value. 4

Obviously,

historians will always be subject to random factors

and an uncertain outcome. (For reasons of privacy,

there are obvious limitations with respect to infor-

mation regarding analysands and patients. A psycho-

analyst may have made certain written records that

cannot be stored in archives. This limitation is not an

issue. The problem is rather the pervasive climate of

secrecy within and pertaining to the societies, and

which runs counter to the principle of public access

to official records.) In all research of this kind, there

is always an element of chance.

Conclusion

Every truly effective account of history evolves as

the result of an interaction between proximity and

distance. Too much proximity tends to turn the

historical account into a tribute, a congratulatory

chronicle. Too much distance always entails the

risk of the historian becoming a mere onlooker,

an observer with an outside perspective who never

connects with the cardinal points of the theory,

practice or movement that is to be studied, analysed,

and chronicled. If this is the case, the historian will

be unable to understand what has been at stake for

the different players involved.

A researcher writing the history of psychoanalysis

faces an accentuation of these risks, for all the

reasons described above. In the history of psycho-

analysis, there are all too many examples of con-

gratulatory chronicles as well as historiographies

characterized by a sterile stance and a distance

from the subject matter that renders it uninteresting.

In both cases, the historian’s personal and/or poli-

tical ambitions have come to the forefront, and

his potential for scientific discrimination has conse-

quently receded. The Swedish psychoanalyst and

associate professor, Ola Andersson (1962), the

Swiss-Canadian researcher Henri F. Ellenberger

(1970), and the American researcher Nathan J.

Hale (1971, 1995) are three brilliant exceptions.

There are those who successfully make their way

through this emotionally charged territory, attempt-

ing to record the history of psychoanalysis in a way

that will give it its proper place: the place that the

actual circumstances allow, free from idealization as

well as diabolical denigration.

To this should be added the fact that the historian

needs to prepare himself for the highly charged

emotions his work will stir up when published.

Critics will be annoyed that the historian has not

sufficiently noticed the importance of X and the

qualities of X’s publications, or they will criticize him

or her for giving undue credit to Y and Y’s theoretical

work. Most likely, however, some individuals will be

grateful. They will find the efforts meaningful, and

they will be relieved that a portion of history, of

which they are part, has been recorded in spite of all

difficulties. For the next generation of psychoana-

lysts, written history will be a vital reference point in

an always uncertain future. And at present, the

future seems more uncertain than ever.

Notes

1. In the same way that every country is subject to a specific and

unique introduction of psychoanalysis, the evolution of the

same will also have its own distinctive national form. Different

countries may also resemble each other: there may be

similarities in terms of content of the discussions raised by

the new discipline, as well as a resemblance regarding the

expressions of resistance towards it. Naturally, these likenesses

Historiography and psychoanalysis 111

may also be reflected in the psychoanalytic historiography of

different countries.

2. It is inevitable that, in a changing society like ours, the

university as an institution must also change. There are

regularly indications that its natural position as a guarantor

for sound and objective knowledge, intellectual integrity and

high standards is being undermined. The consequences of this

are unimaginable. However, this is not the subject of my

article. My point of departure is that the university has been,

and still fundamentally is, a place where new knowledge is

produced under intellectually respectable circumstances.

3. This article will not discuss the particulars regarding the

various forms of psychotherapy, nor the way in which they

may involve risk-taking. The author of this article is presently

working on a book about the history of psychotherapy in

Gothenburg, and will pursue this subject matter in his forth-

coming book.

4. While I was occupied with writing an account of the history of

psychoanalysis, I had access to some uncensored archives of

great interest for a historian. I thank Nils and Gunnar Harding

for their generosity in making the archive of their father, Gösta

Harding, available to me. Likewise, I would like to mention

Edith Székely, who is a psychoanalyst. She opened the archive

of her husband, Lajos Székely, to me. In addition to this, the

psychoanalyst Annastina Rilton gave me access to several

important archival documents. The board of the Swedish

Psychoanalytical Society allowed me to work undisturbed in

the archive of the society. Their obliging attitude was very

helpful and conducive to my research.

References

Andersson, O. (1962). Studies in the prehistory of the psychoanalysis.

The etiology of psychoneuroses and some related themes in

Sigmund Freud’s scientific writings and letters 1886 �1896 [doctoral dissertation]. Stockholm: Norstedts.

Ellenberger, Henri F. (1970). The discovery of the unconscious. The

history and evolution of dynamic psychiatry. New York: Basic

Books.

Hale, N. G., Jr. (1971). Freud in America, Vol. 1, Freud and the

Americans*the beginnings of psychoanalysis in the United States, 1876 �1917. New York: Oxford University Press.

Hale, N. G., Jr. (1995). Freud in America, Vol. 2, The rise and crisis

of psychoanalysis in the United States: Freud and the Americans,

1917 �1985. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Freud, S. (1926/1940 �1952). Die Frage der Laienanalyse *

Unterredungen mit einem Unparteiischen [The question of

lay analysis]. Gesammelte Werke, XIV [Complete works, XIV].

Frankfurt am Main: S Fischer Verlag.

Johansson, P. M. (1999). Freuds psykoanalys, Arvtagare i Sverige

[Freud?s psychoanalysis. The heirs in Sweden] [doctoral dis- sertation]. Göteborg: Daidalos.

Johansson, P. M. (2006). Invited commentary on the interview

with Jan Stensson. International Forum of Psychoanalysis, 15,

13 �16. Norman, J. (1992). The psychoanalytical scene in Sweden. In P.

Kutter (Ed.) Psychoanalysis International*a guide to psycho- analysis throughout the world, Vol 1, Europe (pp. 268 �277). Stuttgart-Bad Cannstatt: Frommann-Holzboog.

Roazen, P. (1969). Brother animal: The story of Freud and Tausk.

New York: Alfred A Knopf.

Roazen, P. (1975). Freud and his followers. New York: Alfred A

Knopf.

Author

Per Magnus Johansson is a registered psychologist

and registered psychotherapist. He is an associate

professor at the department of History of Ideas

and Theory of Science at Gothenburg University,

as well as Editor-in-Chief of Psykoanalytisk Tid/Skrift

[Psychoanalytical time/writing ] and the author of

four books. He has also written some twenty fore-

words and postscripts to various books and approxi-

mately 100 articles in Swedish, English, and French.

Johansson works as a psychoanalyst in private

practice and teaches at the study programme for

psychologists at the University of Gothenburg as well

as at the department of History of Ideas and Theory

of Science. He also holds courses within the training

programme for future psychotherapists at the Uni-

versity of Gothenburg. In 2006, he received the

distinction of Officier dans l’Ordre des Palmes Acadé- miques , awarded by the French Ministry of Educa-

tion. He is responsible, jointly with Claudia Fahlke,

for the publication, in January 2007, at Natur och

Kultur, of the book Personlighetspsykologi [Personality

psychology ], to which he had also contributed a

chapter. At present, he is working on a book about

the history of psychotherapy in Sweden.

112 P. M. Johansson