To Bob Geldof, it’s the role of the West to ‘develop’ the Third World, regardless of whether the people there asked for it or not, writes Ruairi Creaney
In recent weeks, two events that appeared on the surface to be unrelated have put the role of charity in tackling global and domestic problems into the public mind in Ireland and Britain in two starkly different ways.
Forty-three-year-old homeless man Jonathan Corrie was found dead in a doorway just yards away from the gates of Dail Eireann after years of sleeping rough in Dublin.
Corrie’s death was the inevitable result of a severe housing crisis that has gripped Ireland, particularly in the capital.
Fostered by years of austerity, vampire landlords charging ruinous rents and the government’s refusal to properly invest in social housing, this crisis has seen more than 400 Irish families lose their homes in the past year alone.
This is the everyday structural violence of capitalism, rarely discussed in the corridors of power.
Last month, Band Aid 30 released an updated version of its 1984 single Do They Know It’s Christmas? which, unsurprisingly, turned out to be equally as awful as the original.
The release of the single prompted an unintended though much-needed debate about the role of charity, particularly the type championed by graceless pop stars such as Bono and Bob Geldof.
Just like the original Do They Know It’s Christmas? single, the lyrics depict Africa as a single homogeneous place blighted by poverty, starvation and disease.
As many have already pointed out, Africans are portrayed in the song as helpless victims who have had only minimal experience of culture and who need to be “saved” by the goodwill of middle-class Europeans.
The song’s title ignorantly asks if anyone in Africa — a continent that is home to 500 million Christians — knows it’s Christmas in December.
To people like Bono and Geldof, it is the role of the West to “develop” the Third World, regardless if the people there asked for it or not.
This vision of “development” naturally corresponds with the neoliberal vision of an emaciated welfare state, privatised services, low tax rates for the rich, rampant consumerism, weak trade unions and soaring wealth inequality.
A modern incarnation of the White Man’s Burden — Rudyard Kipling’s infamous 19th-century poem justifying the European colonisation of Africa and Asia as a “civilising” mission — this worldview sees “the poor” as a faceless, nameless mass begging for scraps from their betters.
They are mere objects of “our” generous charity — not human beings who can collectively fight on their own behalf, pursue their own struggles or improve their own societies without Western interference.
Much of this was discussed in depth by a number of newspapers, websites and independent blogs.
No such honest debate took place in Ireland following Corrie’s death, however.
The solution put forward by politicians, commentators and much of the general public has been to call
for further donations to charities providing services to the homeless.
Ignoring the structural reasons for the outrageous levels of homelessness in Ireland, such as rip-off rents, lack of social housing, lousy wages, cuts to public services and the rolling back of the welfare state, many believe that a basic human right such as housing can be obtained by relying on the goodwill of other, slightly better off, individuals.
Ireland’s long infatuation with charity has its roots in the Great Hunger, but the central role charity plays in Irish society in delivering vital public services stems from the theocratic domination the Catholic church had over the country after independence.
Charity was a means of power for the clergy and had the effect of limiting Irish citizens’ expectations of what social rights they believed they were entitled to.
Hence, many Irish people don’t view housing as an inherent human right and the current government clearly doesn’t consider a functioning public water service as one either.
Ireland’s dependence on charity was clear to be seen when Tanaiste Joan Burton, the leader of the country’s ostensibly social democratic
party, opened a foodbank in Cork just days before the death of Corrie.
That the citizens of one of the richest nations on Earth should have to rely on foodbanks to eat is rarely perceived in political discourse as the disgrace that it so obviously is.
It’s notable that in Western nations charity as an institution is often above criticism, while many activists in the Third World are scornful of it. Uruguayan historian Eduard Galeano spoke for millions of people long patronised as weak and helpless by Westerners when he wrote: “I don’t believe in charity. I believe in solidarity. Charity is vertical, so it’s humiliating. It goes from top to bottom. Solidarity is horizontal. It respects the other person. I have a lot to learn from other people.”
Charity is seen as wholly acceptable and totally unquestionable. That’s why it’s seen as polite to fundraise for the homeless, research into various diseases and those caught up in war, but it’s not polite to question why a parasite class of landlords are allowed to destroy people’s lives by charging rip-off rents, it’s rude to point out the fact that David Cameron is privatising the NHS and it’s utterly crazy to state that war and imperialism are
inevitable outworkings of the capitalist system.
Charity as a whole, excluding honourable exceptions such as War on Want, never challenges power.
It fails to address the causes of poverty, war and disease and never mentions the political context in which these things occur.
Therefore Bono and Geldof never mention the role international capitalism has played since the 1970s in destroying public services and preventing progress in Third World countries.
They never laud the achievements of great Third World leaders like Patrice Lumumba, Fidel Castro, Che Guevara or Salvador Allende.
Their idols are the war criminals of Washington and Westminster.
Decades of neoliberal policies enforced on Africa, Latin America and Asia by the IMF, the World Bank and the US Treasury, have stripped countless millions of people of basic services such as food, healthcare and education and condemned them to debt slavery.
Years of cosying up to George Bush and Tony Blair and providing justifications for neoliberal capitalism may have clouded the judgement of Bono and Geldof. Or maybe the explanation is more innocent. Perhaps it’s just that “IMF,” “structural adjustment programmes” and “Washington consensus” don’t make for good lyrics in a Christmas song.
In short, charity deals with symptoms and ignores the causes. As Richard McAleavey rightly said on his blog, Cunning Hired Knaves: “Charity seldom requires conflict with the established order. In many cases, charitable organisations serve to reinforce the established order. They dignify the rich, and the way the rich make their money, while condemning those people who end up having to depend on charity to a subaltern status.”
Charity is not a solution. That is not to belittle the genuine work many charity volunteers do, especially in times of unpredictable natural disasters. However, charitable giving is no substitute for properly funded public services, a fair tax system, equality, decent wages, the repudiation of all illegitimate debt and the right to decent housing and free healthcare.
The problem is not that working-class people don’t give away enough of whatever little money they may have to satisfy the insatiable egos of people like Geldof. The problem is the entire rotten system.