Support AlterNet
Do you value the information you're getting from AlterNet? Please show your support with a tax-deductible donation.
Feedback
Tell us how we're doing.
Money or Nothing
Corporate Accountability and WorkPlace:
I'm an American Worker and I'm Tired of Getting Screwed
Rick Kepler
Democracy and Elections:
Consensus Builds for Universal Voter Registration
Project Vote
DrugReporter:
Beaten, Tortured and Sentenced 25-to-Life for Minor Drug Offense
Randy Credico
Election 2008:
Obama's Latino Mandate
Steve Cobble, Joe Velasquez
Environment:
How the Rich Are Destroying the Earth
Herve Kempf
ForeignPolicy:
Leading US Peace Advocates Arrive in Iran, Under Ahmadinejad's Invitation
Linda Milazzo
Health and Wellness:
Meditation May Protect Your Brain
Michael Haederle
Hurricane Katrina:
From the Bayou to Baghdad: Mission Not Accomplished
Amy Goodman
Immigration:
Border Fence to Carve up Nature Reserve
Enrique Gili
Media and Technology:
Glenn Beck Wonders Why He's Resented as a Bigot
Steve Rendall
Movie Mix:
Honeytrap Lies and Women Spies
Rosie White
Reproductive Justice and Gender:
The Push to Appoint Women to Obama's Cabinet Is Threatened
Allison Stevens
Rights and Liberties:
In Stunning Ruling, D.C. Judge Orders Release of Five Gitmo Prisoners
Sex and Relationships:
Is It Wrong to Talk About Michelle Obama's Body?
Tamura Lomax
War on Iraq:
Theater of War: Portrait of a Homeland Security State [Photo Slideshow Included]
Lindsay Beyerstein
Water:
The Tide Is Changing on Bottled Water
Wendy Williams
There has never been a moment like it on British television. The Vicar of Dibley, one of our gentler sitcoms, was bouncing along with its usual bonhomie on New Year's Day when it suddenly hit us with a scene from another world. Two young African children were sobbing and trying to comfort each other after their mother had died of AIDS. How on earth, I wondered, would the show make us laugh after that? It made no attempt to do so. One by one the characters, famous for their parochial boorishness, stood in front of the camera wearing the white armbands which signaled their support for the Make Poverty History campaign. You would have to have been hewn from stone not to cry.
The timing was perfect. In my local Oxfam shop last week, people were queuing to the door to pledge money for the tsunami fund. A pub on the other side of town raised £1,000 on Saturday night. In the pot on the counter of the local newsagent's there must be nearly £100. The woman who runs the bakery told me about the homeless man she had seen, who emptied his pockets in the bank, saying "I just want to do my bit," while the whole queue tried not to cry.
Over the past few months, reviewing the complete lack of public interest in what is happening in the Democratic Republic of Congo, and the failure, in the west, to mobilize effective protests against the continuing atrocities in Iraq, I had begun to wonder whether we had lost our ability to stand in other people's shoes. I have now stopped wondering. The response to the tsunami shows that, however we might seek to suppress it, we cannot destroy our capacity for empathy. But one obvious question recurs. Why must the relief of suffering, in this unprecedentedly prosperous world, rely on the whims of citizens and the appeals of pop stars and comedians? Why, when extreme poverty could be made history with a minor redeployment of public finances, must the poor world still wait for homeless people in the rich world to empty their pockets?
The obvious answer is that governments have other priorities. And the one that leaps to mind is war. If the money they have promised to the victims of the tsunami still falls far short of the amounts required, it is partly because the contingency fund upon which they draw in times of crisis has been spent on blowing people to bits in Iraq.
The U.S. government has so far pledged $350 million to the victims of the tsunami, and the UK government £50 million ($96 million). The U.S. has spent $148 billion on the Iraq war and the UK £6 billion ($11.5 billion). The war has been running for 656 days. This means that the money pledged for the tsunami disaster by the United States is the equivalent of one and a half day's spending in Iraq. The money the UK has given equates to five and a half days of our involvement in the war.
It looks still worse when you compare the cost of the war to the total foreign aid budget. The UK has spent almost twice as much on creating suffering in Iraq as it spends annually on relieving it elsewhere. The United States gives just over $16 billion in foreign aid: less than one ninth of the money it has burnt so far in Iraq.
George Monbiot is the author of 'Poisoned Arrows' and 'No Man's Land' (Green Books). Read more of his writings at Monbiot.com.
Liked this story? Get top stories in your inbox each week from AlterNet! Sign up now »
| More Opinion: | ||
|
Arab Americans Should Be Worried About Rahm Emanuel ForeignPolicy: Emanuel's history and positions give plenty of cause for concern. By Remi Kanazi, AlterNet. November 20, 2008. |
The Bitch and the Airhead: Blatant Women-Bashing Makes a Gut-Wrenching Comeback Reproductive Justice and Gender: Change may well be coming to Washington. But the public discourse about women has taken several steps backward. By Daphne Merkin, The Daily Beast. November 20, 2008. |
Memo to Obama: Closing Guantanamo Can't Wait Rights and Liberties: If President-elect Barack Obama truly plans to make good on his promise to close the American gulag, he should start by heeding this advice. By Andy Worthington, AlterNet. November 19, 2008. |