The prominence given by the media to the outcome of the G8 meeting is understandable. However, for many the New Partnership for Africa’s Development (Nepad), billed as a high priority for the G8 meeting, was reduced to a mere footnote.
Since then, those in the employ of the president’s praise-singing unit have been at pains to convince us that the meeting marked a historic breakthrough in international relations. African leaders and delegates have tried to put on a brave face over what is considered a snub of Africa by the G8.
Cartoonist Zapiro captured this delusional state brilliantly. The cartoon portrays G8 leaders thoroughly enthralled by news events from the Middle East during the G8 meeting. At the extreme corner is an ignored Thabo Mbeki, thanking “this gathering for prioritising the African crisis”. Characteristically, Mbeki is deluded about his own importance and thinks the G8 leaders are actually listening to him.
The temptation to delude oneself is not uncommon in human affairs. When faced with stressful situations, disappointments, confusion or unhappiness, one can always take refuge in a world of fantasy. Here, people see and hear things that aren’t there. Their interpretation of events is inconsistent with the reality. Motives, thoughts and perceptions are not questioned. Enemies are seen everywhere.
Africans are called upon to celebrate the offer of $6-billion, while Nepad’s projects require about $64-billion. But the pledge of $6-billion is not new. Stephen Lewis, the United Nations special envoy, reminds us: “Pretending it is new is in fact an illusion. The $6-billion is warmed-over money, previously announced in Monterey.”
Interestingly, the money pledged is comparable to the amount South Africa will be spending on weapons it can ill afford.
Phil Twyford, director of Oxfam International, had this to say of the G8: “They are offering peanuts to Africa, and repackaged peanuts at that. They have given us a report that is full of repackaged, recycled old initiatives and good intentions.”
Neville Gabriel of the Southern African Catholic Bishops’ Con-ference agrees: “The G8 plan is recycled rhetoric. It offers nothing new. It is a vacuous plan for no action on Africa.”
Challenging the bizarre optimism, newspaper headlines followed suit: “G8 Nepad response disappoints Africans” (Business Day, June 28); “G8 gives peanuts to Africa (Oxfam News, June 25); “G8 closes on Africa” (Mail & Guardian, June 28); “Rich nations dash Africa’s trade hopes” (Sunday Times, June 30).
For its part, the G8 adopted a wait- and-see attitude — indicating that money would go only to countries that are deemed to have met the strict criteria set out in the plan.
Refusing to be drawn into a collective bind, the G8 indicated that “each one of us will decide, in accordance with our respective priorities and procedures, how we will allocate additional money we have pledged”.
To exclude the likes of Zimbabwe, the G8 promised to focus its efforts on “countries that demonstrate a political and financial commitment to good governance and the rule of law, investing in their people and pursuing policies that spur economic growth and alleviate poverty”.
The G8 refused to deal with an international trade regime that continues to impoverish Africa. For example, the subsidies provided for in the United States Farm Bill will directly perpetuate a cycle of over-production and export dumping, consequently undermining agriculture in Africa.
But for the African leader, always desperate for Western affirmation, merely being invited to a meeting (in this case, the G8 summit in Canada) is sufficient cause for celebration.
Malcom X would probably have called them modern-day Uncle Toms, satisfied with crumbs falling from the master’s table. He wrote contemptuously about such leaders: “Ten men can be sitting at a table eating … dining, and I can come and sit down where they’re dining. They’re dining. I’ve got a plate in front of me, but nothing is on it. Because all of us are sitting at the same table, are all of us diners? I am not a diner until you let me dine.”
The spurious endorsement of Nepad by the G8 so overwhelmed Mbeki that he was consumed by its historic importance. He declared: “Unlike the Berlin Conference, the Africans themselves also attended the Kananaskis Conference … Any decisions would be taken with the Africans.” Carried away, he continued: “In historical terms, it signified the end of the epoch of colonialism and neo-colonialism … At Kananaskis, the peoples of Africa reaffirmed their commitment to take their destiny into their own hands, practically.”
If you believe this, why do Africans have to reaffirm their commitment in Canada? Could it be because the destiny of Africans is largely defined by what colonial masters decree? Can Nepad succeed without Western support?
Ironically, only a few weeks earlier Mbeki had launched a scathing attack on the leaders of Europe and North America after they boycotted the World Food Summit in Rome. He accused them of not caring about the plight of 800-million people across the world. Today, he tells us the same leaders are to be trusted.
Cutting through the crap, Nepad’s subtext is: “We African leaders, having failed to consolidate democracy, to ensure sound economic management, and to bring about people-centred development in our countries, come before you chaps in the G8 to enlist your support. If you give us money, we promise to honour the commitments we made to our people. We need to be rewarded for what we should have been doing in the first place. We cannot succeed without you.”
Leaving this strange reasoning aside, we need to ask what the prospects are that Nepad’s promises will be met.
Again, we are told of mechanisms, structures and commitments made on paper. This prompted George Soros to remark that Nepad, like all political commitments, is worth no more than the paper it is written on.
We should not exaggerate the power of documents. Notwithstanding South Africa’s “best” Constitution, infra-structure, enviable institutions of democracy and intellectual resources, developments here do not inspire confidence.
Through skilful manipulation of democratic processes, Mbeki has concentrated enough power to rival any tinpot dictator on the continent.
His influence extends to all levels of administration — Cabinet, provin-cial premiers, directors general and executive mayors.
The government’s macroeconomic policy continues to shed hundreds of thousands of jobs annually, wreaking havoc within the African community.
Disregard for expertise, alongside nepotism and incompetence, have become standard government features.
If our government is so lax in securing the social and economic wellbeing of its citizens, what more can we expect from the likes of Zimbabwe, Malawi, Kenya and Burundi?
It’s time to stop deluding ourselves.