After 100 days of suspension due to the coronavirus disease (COVID-19) pandemic, the English Premier League returned last week. However, the footballer who captured the imagination of the nation was Marcus Rashford, who on this occasion did so not for his skills on the ball, his pace or even his goalscoring prowess on the pitch, but rather for taking a public stand on extending the provision of food vouchers throughout the summer holidays for about 1.3 million children from some of the poorest families in England.
During the pandemic-enforced lockdown, Rashford has worked with the poverty and food waste charity FareShare to raise £20 million ($24 million) for 3 million meals for mainly vulnerable people. Then, last Monday, he published a moving letter pleading with MPs to extend the free school meals scheme to provide hard-hit families with food vouchers over the summer. Prime Minister Boris Johnson — amid his typically insensitive detachment from the realities of poverty and food insecurity — initially refused to do so. But public support for the sentiment expressed in Rashford’s letter, as well as cross-party consensus, forced Johnson into a humbling U-turn and he agreed to provide these food vouchers. With his letter, Rashford has probably scored the most important goal of his fledgling football career — one that deserves applause no matter whether you are a Manchester United supporter or not.
As it happens, for nearly two months now, my wife and I have been volunteering to deliver food to vulnerable families. As we both find ourselves working from home, our schedules are more flexible and we came across a group of wonderful people who belong to the Old Rutlishians’ Association. This organization was formed to provide former students of London’s Rutlish School with sports facilities and a meeting place, which was turned overnight into a food drop-off and distribution center for those who rely on public donations during the coronavirus outbreak. Our very modest contribution was to deliver boxes of food, which were carefully made up to meet families’ specific needs, whether for health or religious reasons, and included nappies as well as food. Most families lived no more than about 10 minutes away, mainly in social housing, and their need for assistance was immediately apparent and heart-wrenching.
What became obvious very quickly was that many of those receiving the donations suffer from food insecurity regardless of the current pandemic — this is something they endure most days of the year. In one of the ironies of these eerie times, the current increase of awareness among those working from home or who are furloughed has given them the time to harbor the spirit and motivation to benefit others. Food is donated generously outside supermarkets, while distribution centers have been established all over the country. However, since this food insecurity is not exclusively linked to COVID-19, and in the pandemic’s aftermath it will most probably worsen, it begs the question what will happen to these elderly people, to those who suffer from physical and mental disabilities, to unemployed families with young children, and to single mothers when some kind of normal life is resumed and many of these volunteering initiatives are wound up? Neither local authorities nor the national government, in the more than three months since the UK entered lockdown, has seemed to care about these people, many of them from black, Asian and minority ethnic communities, or shown much interest in their well-being.
Figures on food insecurity in the UK make for grim reading. According to the Trussell Trust, which supports a nationwide network of 1,200 food banks, more than 14 million people in the UK are living in poverty, which amounts to nearly a fifth of the population, among them 4.5 million children. At the same time as the country — at least before COVID-19 hit the economy hard — was getting richer, food banks were growing exponentially. This network provided people in crisis with 1.6 million food deliveries in 2019, a 19 percent increase on the previous year. As resourceful and well-intentioned as these voluntary initiatives may be, they cannot replace what should be the comprehensive policies of a government that aims to ensure that people in the sixth-biggest economy in the world are neither homeless nor starving, and are also helped to escape from chronic deprivation and poverty.
There is more than one explanation for this morally unacceptable situation, and every individual suffering from food insecurity and poverty has her or his story, but a chief cause is inequality in the distribution of wealth. In the UK, the richest 20 percent of the population earn 12 times more than the poorest 20 percent, while the richest 10 percent of households hold five times more wealth than the poorest 50 percent. These are not just numbers, but a reflection of priorities, ideology and societal values that worship the accumulation of wealth and, for the most part, ignore the hardships and misfortune of those who live in poverty. It reflects a conservative approach that holds that, in life, we get what we deserve and there is always a need to look up to someone, as much to look down on someone else. Maintaining poverty serves as a warning sign for those who don’t comply, as they are deprived of even basic necessities.
At the same time as the country — at least before COVID-19 hit — was getting richer, food banks were growing exponentially.
Yossi Mekelberg
Nothing is more damaging to society than this misguided and debauched approach. The welfare state was founded on the exact opposite view: That the right of every human being to live in dignity and reach their full potential is sacred and best serves society as a whole.
Without adequate living conditions, health service provision, education and nutritious food for all from cradle to grave, millions of people will never make the most of their talents and will suffer from illnesses and a reduced life expectancy. The people my wife and I meet on our delivery rounds, who always express a shy gratitude, deserve better. If there is any decency left in Johnson and his government, they should set themselves the goal of eradicating food insecurity — a plague that is bound to worsen in the weeks and months ahead if no serious action is taken. Unfortunately, unlike Rashford, this government can’t even score when presented with an open goal.
- Yossi Mekelberg is professor of international relations at Regent’s University London, where he is head of the International Relations and Social Sciences Program. He is also an associate fellow of the MENA Program at Chatham House. Twitter: @YMekelberg
