The great entertainers (and some not so great) were at it again, preening in their financial success and trying to make others feel guilty for theirs. "Greed is a weapon of mass destruction," rapped Faithless to a Live 8 concert in Berlin. Rocked back Sting, warning the financial ministers of the Group of 8: "Every vow you break, every step you take, every single day, every word you say, every game you play . . . we'll be watching you."
Will Smith, the host at Philadelphia's Live 8 concert, told his audience to snap their fingers at three-second intervals to mark the death of a malnourished, diseased child in Africa who, he confidently said, dies every three seconds. Snap. Snap. Snap.
The stars have been praised (most eloquently by themselves) for focusing attention on poverty in Africa, but their glitter and flash don't quite rise to the level of effective policy. While they were rappin' and rockin', James Shikwati, a distinguished Kenyan economist, was singing another song: "For God's sake, please just stop the aid."
In an interview in der Spiegel, the German magazine, Mr. Shikwati describes what he sees as the disastrous result of aid to Africa. Not only do African leaders exploit it for their own purposes, stuffing their pocketbooks and adding to their power, but aid weakens local markets, destroys incentives and fosters corruption and complacency. He scoffs at the motives of the United Nations World Food Program, "which is a massive agency of apparatchiks who are in the absurd situation of . . . being dedicated to the fight against hunger while . . . being faced with unemployment were hunger actually eliminated."
What the Kenyans have to learn, he says of his own country, is how to help themselves by encouraging sustainable markets. He cites the distribution of corn and clothes as examples of "do-goodism" gone wrong, hurting those it sets out to help in an endless circle of vicious venality. Corn arrives from highly subsidized European and American farmers. African politicians take portions of it to distribute to their constituents. What isn't given away is dumped on the black market, and sold at such bargain prices that an African farmer can't compete, so he puts down his hoe. When the next famine arrives, begging begins again.