Driving across Waterloo Bridge, I saw the words MAKE POVERTY HISTORY projected in purple onto the back of the Hayward Gallery. These three words have been etched onto my conscience in the last couple of months. It seemed I could not do anything without coming across them — whether it was on the white rubber bracelets that have become de rigueur in London, splashed across newspapers, staring down at me from posters or from the lips of pop stars who queued up to swear allegiance to the cause.
As a slogan, it’s brilliant. For a start it’s a very positive statement, it is empowering. We are not told to combat poverty or to give generously but to make history. Then of course it is original and memorable. But most importantly it is ambitious. It challenges both aid fatigue and the deeply-held pessimism that not only nothing can be done, but that all the aid that has been poured into Africa over the last twenty years has done very little to alleviate the extreme poverty of the majority of the continent’s population.
The coalition behind MAKE POVERTY HISTORY has dealt with the prevalent cynicism and pessimism by running a campaign that does not focus on aid, but on putting pressure on the governments of the world’s richest countries to take the necessary steps to end poverty. The big question, at least for me, is whether poverty can indeed be made history. In order to answer that question I turned to Jeffrey Sachs’ book: The End of Poverty. I have a very vivid memory of Professor Sachs. He is the only economist who has ever made economics sound exciting and relevant to me. I have seen him speak just once, years ago at a conference on the future of Eastern Europe. He had stood up and made a rousing speech, contradicting everyone who had gone before him, and spoken with the conviction of a preacher. He seems to have lost none of that conviction, the End of Poverty is a compelling book which makes a passionate case that poverty can be ended by 2025.
I’d like to say that I have been converted, but that would only be a half-truth. It’s not so much that I don’t believe that poverty can be made history but that I have doubts as to whether it will be made history. Or to put it another way, the book convinced me that in terms of economics poverty can be made history but left me with unresolved questions about the politics of making it happen.
I will also confess that I am very uneasy with the media frenzy that has surrounded the MAKE POVERTY HISTORY campaign and Live 8 in particular. Though it has undoubtedly been a success in terms of putting poverty in the spotlight, my own personal reaction has been less than positive. Suffice it to say that I only have to see Bob Geldof come on television to reach for the remote. And as for the bracelets, I liked them at first but then became irritated when they became something of a gimmick. I always think it is a fine line between genuinely wanting to help those who have been born less fortunate and alleviating our own guilt at having been born on the positive side of the poverty line. I am also very weary of something that seems too facile. Wearing a bracelet that supports a cause is great when it is accompanied by action, but when it is simply a way of showing our support for the world’s poor, it is too easy, much too easy. Just to prove my point, last week I met a girl at a party who was wearing one of those bracelets; when I asked her why she wore it, she said: “because it looks good with my tan”.
None of this takes away the fact that as a campaign it has been phenomenal. What impressed me the most is that it has brought people together from all faiths. On the Muslim front, Islamic relief has played an important role in supporting the campaign. It is interesting that their approach differed slightly to that of Oxfam which along with Christian Aid have been the two charities at the forefront of the media campaign. Oxfam sent a package to their supporters which included one of the white rubber bracelets embossed with the words MAKE POVERTY HISTORY and the Oxfam logo. Their message focused on convincing us that we had the opportunity to make a difference. The package sent by Islamic Relief focused on challenging us to survive for a day on just 50 pence. Both enjoined us to e-mail Tony Blair, and both encouraged us to take to the streets and join the march against poverty, but the arguments used to convince us to do so differed subtly.
I did not watch Live 8 and I did not go to Edinburgh. I am sure Live 8 was a great music event and that the 200,000 who won tickets on the mobile phone lottery had a fabulous time, just as the pop stars who took part no doubt went home feeling they had done their bit for a good cause and can now relax as they reap the benefits of increased record sales. As for the protesters in Edinburgh, they have my respect. More of them showed up than there were revelers in Hyde Park. Will any of it make any difference to the leaders of the G-8 as they meet this week? Perhaps. But at the end of the day, domestic politics will always be the prime concern of any political leader.
