|
The Guardian
By hailing the failure of this summer's G8 summit as a success, Bob Geldof has betrayed the poor of Africa
By George Monbiot
September 6, 2005
Two months have not elapsed since
the G8 summit, and already almost everything has turned to ashes. Even
the crustiest sceptics have been shocked by the speed with which its
promises have been broken.
It is true that they didn't amount
to much. The World Development Movement described the agreement as "a
disaster for the world's poor". ActionAid complained that "the G8 have
completely failed to deliver trade justice". Christian Aid called July
8 "a sad day for poor people in Africa and all over the world". Oxfam
lamented that "neither the necessary sense of urgency nor the historic
potential of Gleneagles was grasped by the G8". But one man had a
different view. Bob Geldof, who organised the Live 8 events, announced
that "a great justice has been done ... On aid, 10 out of 10; on debt,
eight out of 10 ... Mission accomplished frankly."
Had he not signed off like this, had
he not gone on to describe a South African campaigner who had
criticised the deal as "a disgrace", Geldof could have walked away from
the summit unencumbered by further responsibility. He could have spent
the rest of his life on holiday, and no one would have minded. But it
was because he gave the G8 his seal of approval, because he told us, in
effect, that we could all go home and stop worrying about Africa, that
he now has a responsibility to speak out.
The uses to which a Geldof can be
put are limited. Before the summit he was seen by campaigners as naive,
ill-informed and unaccountable. But he can make public statements with
the potential to embarrass politicians. While they don't usually rise
above the "give us your focking money" level, they do have the effect
of capturing the attention of the press. But though almost everything
he said he was fighting for has fallen apart, he has yet to tell the
public.
Immediately after the summit, as the
world's attention shifted to the London bombs, Germany and Italy
announced that they might not be able to meet the commitments they had
just made, due to "budgetary constraints". A week later, on July 15,
the World Development Movement obtained leaked documents showing that
four of the IMF's European directors were trying to overturn the G8's
debt deal. Four days after that, Gordon Brown dropped a bombshell. He
admitted that the aid package the G8 leaders had promised "includes the
numbers for debt relief". The extra money they had promised for aid and
the extra money they had promised for debt relief were in fact one and
the same.
Nine days after that, on July 28,
the United States, which had appeared to give some ground at
Gleneagles, announced a pact with Australia, China and India to
undermine the Kyoto protocol on climate change. On August 2, leaked
documents from the World Bank showed that the G8 had not in fact
granted 100% debt relief to 18 countries, but had promised enough money
only to write off their repayments for the next three years. On August
3, the United Nations revealed that only one-third of the money needed
for famine relief in Niger and 14% of the money needed by Mali had been
pledged by the rich nations. Some 5 million people in the western Sahel
remained at risk of starvation.
Two weeks ago, we discovered that
John Bolton, the new US ambassador to the United Nations, had proposed
750 amendments to the agreement that is meant to be concluded at next
week's UN summit. He was, in effect, striking out the millennium
development goals on health, education and poverty relief, which the UN
set in 2000. Yesterday, ActionAid released a report showing that the
first of these goals - equal access to schooling for boys and girls by
2005 - has been missed in over 70 countries. "Africa," it found, "is
currently projected to miss every goal." There is so little resolve at
the UN to do anything about it that the summit could deliver "a worse
outcome than the situation before the G8". Yet Geldof remains silent.
'We are very critical of what Bob
Geldof did during the G8 Summit," Demba Moussa Dembele of the African
Forum on Alternatives tells me. "He did it for his self-promotion. This
is why he marginalised African singers, putting the limelight on
himself and Bono, rather than on the issues. The objectives of the
whole Live 8 campaign had little to do with poverty reduction in
Africa. It was a scheme intended to project Geldof and Blair as
humanitarian figures coming to the rescue of 'poor and helpless'
Africans."
"Right from the beginning," says
Kofi Mawuli Klu of the Forum of African Human Rights Defenders, "he has
acted in his own selfish interests. It was all about self-promotion,
about usurping the place of Africans. His message was 'shut up and
watch me'. Without even understanding the root causes of the problems,
he used his role to drown the voices of the African people and replace
them with his own. There are many knowledgeable people - African and
non-African - who could have advised him, but he has been on his own,
ego-tripping."
I have heard similar sentiments from
every African campaigner I have spoken to. Bob Geldof is beginning to
look like Mother Teresa or Joy Adamson. To the corporate press, and
therefore to most of the public, he is a saint. Among those who know
something about the issues, he is detested. Those other tabloid saints
appeared to recognise that if they rattled the cages of the powerful,
the newspapers upon which their public regard depended would turn
against them. When there was a conflict between their public image and
their cause, the image won. It seems to me that Geldof has played the
same game.
He seized a campaign that commanded
great public enthusiasm, that had the potential to gravely embarrass
Tony Blair and George Bush. He asked us to focus not on the harm the G8
leaders were doing, but on the help they might give. When they failed
to deliver, he praised them anyway. His endorsement and the public
forgetfulness it prompted helped license them to start reversing their
commitments. When they did so, he said nothing. This looks to me like
more than just political naivety. It looks as if he is working for the
other side.
I don't mean that this is what he
intended - or intends - to do. I mean that he came to identify with the
people he was supposed to be lobbying. By ensuring that the campaign
was as much about him as about Africa, he ensured that if they failed,
he failed. He needed a story with a happy ending.
There is just one thing Geldof can
now do for Africa. This is to announce that his optimism was misplaced,
that the mission was not accomplished, that the struggle for justice is
as urgent as ever. But while he holds his tongue, he will remain the
man who betrayed the poor. |