Category Archives: foreign aid

A blueprint for all that was most harmful to development

The currency was called ‘pictures of Nyerere’

Julius Nyerere’s Tanzania, writes Dalrymple,

illustrated best and most clearly the politicisation of life that foreign aid promoted.

It was regarded by silly Western intellectuals as

a beacon to Africa, if not to the world. Mwalimu, or Teacher, was admired because of his apparently modest manner and lifestyle. Because of the uncritical high regard in which he was held, the economist Peter Bauer called him ‘St Julius’.

What had Teacher taught, and what were the miracles that St Julius had wrought? The country

was impoverished, with young men walking around in Western women’s coats, sent out in bundles by charities from Europe. There was nothing to buy. The currency was called ‘pictures of Nyerere’. Everyone was thin except for members of the Party of the Revolution, who were inclined to be portly. You could tell a party member in the countryside by his girth.

Party of the Revolution

Dalrymple explains that every 10th household had a 10-cell leader,

a man whose certificate of political reliability it was necessary to secure even for a child to continue beyond a certain age at school. This became a system of bribery that reached into the tiny interstices of life. It created, in conditions of penury, a cadre who were not only the eyes and ears of the régime, but loyal to it for the small advantages it gave them. (One thinks here of Freud’s phrase, the narcissism of small differences.)

Nyerere

was adept at talking the language of left-wing European intellectuals, while blinding them—in all conscience, not a very difficult thing to do—to the natural consequences of the forcible collectivisation of peasant agriculture and the removal of millions of people from where they were living, on the supposition that it was only thus that equal and equitable development could take place while the government provided the population with its inestimable services.

The maintenance of this system required tyranny and corruption even on a micro-level. Dalrymple had a patient, an Indian trader,

who had contracted tuberculosis in a Tanzanian prison, to which he had been sent for six months during one of Nyerere’s so-called economic crackdowns, conducted by the army to search out people who had supposedly dealt on the so-called black market (which Bauer would have preferred to call the open market). My patient—one of a class of admirable people, small merchants who had begun their careers by bringing a few simple consumer goods to remote rural areas where it was still possible to be attacked by a lion, and who had gradually reached a modest prosperity—had been found to be in possession of six cups and saucers for which he did not have a receipt.

Foreign aid paid for this iniquity. (Dalrymple also was a small beneficiary of the aid, buying his first house from the proceeds.) The collectivisation

was predictably such a disaster, economically, that there was only one solution: more foreign aid. 90% of the people lived on the land, but still the population could not feed itself, and produced practically no cash crops, they being subjected, if grown, to forced requisition by state marketing boards.

Nyerere recognised the nature of his system when he explained why he refused to devalue the currency.

Such a devaluation would have destroyed his powers of political patronage, for access to foreign currency to favoured persons was a way of ensuring their loyalty. ‘And I would lose everything I have,’ were Nyerere’s precise words.

 

The fundamental error of Oxfam’s approach to poverty

Oxfam operates at an abysmally low moral level.

  • In Haïti, it appears to be given over to venery and the exploitation of frailty.
  • In England, its grandiloquent headquarters is bursting with overpaid, rent-seeking, ferociously avaricious staff.
  • Corruption at every level of the ‘charity’ mocks taxpayers, donors and volunteers.

But there is something else we need to bear in mind. Oxfam’s worldview is cock-eyed and harmful. Dalrymple writes:

Oxfam’s ideas of how poverty is to be overcome — by means of foreign aid — are deeply flawed. The organisation, supposedly focused on poverty, has contrived to overlook the greatest reduction in mass poverty in history, namely that which has occurred in India and China in the last 30 years, and to reflect upon how it was brought about. This reduction had nothing to do with foreign aid, or even concern for social justice.

The procrustean BMJ

Screen Shot 2016-05-27 at 22.38.52There is practically no liberal nostrum, writes Dalrymple, to which the British Medical Journal does not subscribe. Its pages, he writes,

are innocent of debate. When the BMJ speaks, it is ex cathedra.

A recent issue

was devoted to the subject of war. The BMJ’s attitude to war is like that of Coolidge’s to sin: it is against it. War is so bad for the health. The white man has spoken. 

Fortunately for the world, the BMJ

has discovered the causes of war. They are the same as the causes of all other evils: inequality and poverty. Eliminate these, and peace will reign.

Screen Shot 2016-05-27 at 23.08.19It seems to have escaped the BMJ’s notice, says Dalrymple,

that attempts during the 20th century to achieve radical equality were not entirely pacific or good for the health. Likewise, it has failed to notice that famine is much more likely to be a consequence of war than its cause.

The idea that wars are fought when ‘individuals are motivated to fight to seek redress‘ for their poverty

is laughable in its historical and psychological ignorance. Are Bin Laden and Saddam driven by poverty? Was Galtieri? Do Pakistan and India fight over Kashmir because of poverty?

The desire for someone else’s property

is not confined to the poor, nor need the property be of any value to be coveted. Ethiopia and Eritrea fought bloodily over scraps of land of use to neither nation.

The BMJ’s

procrustean theory of war is the liberal theory of crime writ large. Poverty makes men desperate, and desperation drives them to crime or (if they control an army) to war.

It is

up to us—the rich and contented portion of humanity—to prevent crime and war by paying more: for social welfare programmes in the case of crime, for foreign aid in the case of war.

It is, notes Dalrymple,

a tribute to the distorting power on educated minds of an abstract theory that anyone could believe such rubbish. Only someone with long years of formal training could deceive himself in this comforting fashion.

The fact that crime in Britain has risen along with income

should have been sufficient to persuade the BMJ that a more complex theory of human motivation was necessary.

Dalrymple points out:

The disregard of elementary reality is perhaps the distinguishing feature of much modern intellectual life.

The aid-and-development racket

Bonanza for British firms Bonanza for British firms

Dalrymple explains (from 21:05) how he was once a beneficiary of pork-barrelling.

He was a doctor for a roadbuilding project in Tanzania. The experience

turned me against foreign aid. I saw that it was a corrupt way of subsidising inefficient British companies.