I have been watching the widespread debate concerning the re-issued and barely re-written Band Aid song, “Do they know it’s Christmas?” Critics have derided every aspect of the project including the very question ‘do they know it’s Christmas?’, siting that there are more active Christians in Africa than currently in Europe. In fact, I wonder what those pop stars would say if they saw the festive lights in Ajose Adeogun which surely rival the famed lights in London’s Oxford Street.
The entire notion that Christmas bells clang “chimes of doom” and a world of “dread and fear/Where a kiss of love can kill you” is clearly condescending. The song is trite and delivers no meaningful message to a western audience whose understanding of Africa is shaped by the global media with famine and warfare squeezing out the many positives that the continent has to offer. Other critics point to there being only one African in the ‘band’ (Angelique Kidjo) and a lack of clarity in how the funds will be used.
Having said that, music, as Fela used to say, “is a weapon”. Before Band Aid, several songs were recorded by Africans whose lyrics contain guidelines designed to encourage better health and hygiene practices or persuade people to trust the medical services that many have been suspicious of. UNICEF’s “Ebola is Real” was recorded in Liberia and used local languages to spread practical messages. Still in Liberia, the funky reggae-style song by artistes Shadow and Kuzzy contains the advice “Ebola is very wicked / It can kill you quick quick / Be careful how you shaking hands-o / Be careful who you touch”. In Senegal, Zunan raps to the tune of Rihanna’s “Umbrella”, warning that Ebola has reached their neighbour.
On a more international level and probably the best song musically, “Africa Stop Ebola”, sung in French and local languages, uses a mixture of rap and melodies that are distinctive to the region to urge people to take Ebola seriously and go to a doctor if they are ill. Recorded by Malians Salif Keita, Oumou Sangare and duo Amadou and Mariam, Guinean Mory Kante, Congolese Barbara Kanam and Senegalese rapper Didier Awadi, among others, the song also warns people to wash their hands, avoid shaking hands with others and to refrain from touching dead bodies. All proceeds of this song will go to ‘Medecins sans Frontieres’, one organization that has won plaudits for its work on the ground.
But despite the apparent condescension and crassness, should we completely write off Geldof as an attention-seeking ‘do-gooder’? I would say no. I had already argued back in June 2006 that, as annoying as they can be, the two Irishmen, Bono and Geldof, have a role to play. Looking back to their work around G8 where they badgered world leaders on debt relief provides perspective to Geldof’s current actions. While many of the pledges made at that summit were met – and broadly the UK’s were among those that were – many have not been. In particular, the economic powerhouse of Germany has come nowhere near meeting its promises.
Recently in the UK’s Observer, there was a particularly insightful article by Paul Vallely, which highlighted these issues even more clearly than I could. Vallely writes that Ebola is about the politics of poverty. He makes the point that if Ebola killed Americans or Europeans, there would have been vaccines 10 years ago. All the affected countries are at the bottom of the UN’s Human Development Index and their health and social services are beyond broken.
“A massive aid deal was agreed by the G8 at Gleneagles after global anti-poverty campaigns including Make Poverty History and Live 8 in 2005. Great advances were made on debt and improved governance as a result. And Gleneagles put 40 million more children in school, gave life-saving drugs to six million people with HIV/AIDS and halved malaria in eight countries. But not all the promises were delivered. And West African health services were at the bottom of the list…. If the promises made in 2005 had been kept, these healthcare systems would’ve been more effective and might have been able to contain the disease as has been done in Nigeria and Uganda,” said Adrian Lovett, a leading campaigner with Jubilee 2000, Make Poverty History, Save the Children and now with the global aid advocacy lobby, ONE, which has six million members around the world. “Geldof is putting those broken promises back on the political agenda.”
So what Geldof’s trite song does is to give him the platform to tackle the political will, the political will that should be about preventing global disease at source, not waiting until it threatens the wealthy. Geldof has been touring Europe launching the Band Aid records and while in Berlin he caused a huge stir by publicly lambasting Chancellor Angela Merkel when he made the point that Germany has no right to think of itself as the leader of the G7 when it cannot fulfil its promises to the world’s poor. When Geldof shouted that German spending on Ebola was less than half what it spent on one football stadium during the World Cup in 2006, “he was firing straight at the political target”, said Lovett.
So, call him arrogant and ask who gave him the right to be the spokesperson for Africa but put aside the song and consider the political message he was able to deliver directly to those that count. I must also admit to a sneaking respect for a man who says of himself, “What a wanker Geldof is, how patronizing I am to Africans…Everyone has forgotten that the real story is Ebola”. As I said in 2006, “Love ‘em or hate ‘em, one thing those annoying Irishmen will do will be to continue to be a thorn in the side of the establishment, a conscience, if you like, to ensure any failure to keep promises will not go unnoticed.”
Keith Richards
