The precarity of the global 99%

What The Global Fund's decision to cancel next year's funding round means for victims of Aids, TB an

In Europe and the US there is a lot of talk of austerity these days. But elsewhere in the world, the financial realities of our age of insecurity are leading not to belt-tightening but to malnutrition and disease. And things look set to get a lot worse yet.

This week's unprecedented announcement by The Global Fund to Fight Aids, TB and Malaria to cancel its next funding round is a case in point. It reveals just how precarious daily life has become for the global 99 per cent: those whose very health, as much as their job security, is pegged to the rise and fall of the money markets.

The Global Fund has for years been one of the most important fronts in the battle to beat back HIV/Aids. It has helped put 3.2 million people on anti-retroviral therapy (ARVs). But it has been running on empty for a year now, since securing just $10 billion -- half of what it hoped for -- during a major funding replenishment a year ago. Some countries also recently cut their pledges owing to concerns about the way the Global Fund is operated.

Ten billion dollars sounds like peanuts in comparison to the bank bailouts we have gotten used to in recent years -- it's about the same amount that Goldman Sachs has cheerfully set aside in bonuses again this year.

But it was the minimum figure that the Global Fund required from rich countries to sustain the many medical programmes it supports around the world. And with those countries failing to meet even downsized pledges in October, the Global Fund concluded this week, after a heated and difficult board meeting in Accra, Ghana, that it had no choice but cut the funding lifeline.

Instead, it has put in place an emergency '"transition mechanism" to safeguard the most needy, but this is no more than a tin roof over the heads of some in a rapidly worsening storm. The fact is that sooner or later people are going to be kicked off existing treatment programmes: this is already happening in Swaziland, which recently decided to forego Global Fund support and, as a result, has simply run out of drugs.

The Global Fund's apparent demise could hardly come at a more crucial time. The last couple of years had seen greater optimism in the battle against Aids. Thanks to internationally funded programmes, the number of people on ARVs had increased by 20 per cent since 2009, and many had begun looking forward to a generation free of HIV. "We have an historical opportunity now with treatment as prevention to push back against HIV," Marius Trosied, a doctor with Médecins Sans Frontières told me just a few weeks ago. But such claims require solid revenue streams to back them up. It is now far from clear how even the 7.7 million people the Global Fund claims to have already "saved" will fare in the years to come.

South Africa and Kenya have already been told they are ineligible to apply for funds this year, despite both only having treatment coverage rates of around 50 per cent.

And in Malawi, which had ambitious plans to scale up treatment provision, the question now is all about how best to manage a treatment scale-down. That is global health speak for a process of triage to determine who lives and who dies.

The root problem is not just the banking and financial crisis, says David McCoy, a public health specialist at UCL: "What is happening to the Global Fund ought to concentrate the minds and efforts of public health workers all across the world on the need to change the broader social and economic institutions within which our fragile health programmes are located."

McCoy is right: the precarity of individuals is ultimately a function of the precarity of the institutions that sustain them. That is as true in Europe and the US -- where we are seeing jobs lost, services cut, and shops boarded up along our highstreets because our institutions and systems of government do not protect us equally from the vicissitudes of the market -- as it is in global health. But of course the two are related, and some individuals are more vulnerable than others.

So when life-saving organizations like South Africa's Treatment Action Campaign declare that, because rich countries now feel they can afford to give less, they too may be forced to shutter up the premises next year, then we have to recognise that the politics of austerity we are going through has not even begun to be properly costed. This is the real lesson of the Global Fund's demise and it will require much more than simply getting wealthy donors back on board to address it.

Simon Reid-Henry is a lecturer at Queen Mary, University of London

Photo: Getty Images
Show Hide image

The buck doesn't stop with Grant Shapps - and probably shouldn't stop with Lord Feldman, either

The question of "who knew what, and when?" shouldn't stop with the Conservative peer.

If Grant Shapps’ enforced resignation as a minister was intended to draw a line under the Mark Clarke affair, it has had the reverse effect. Attention is now shifting to Lord Feldman, who was joint chair during Shapps’  tenure at the top of CCHQ.  It is not just the allegations of sexual harrassment, bullying, and extortion against Mark Clarke, but the question of who knew what, and when.

Although Shapps’ resignation letter says that “the buck” stops with him, his allies are privately furious at his de facto sacking, and they are pointing the finger at Feldman. They point out that not only was Feldman the senior partner on paper, but when the rewards for the unexpected election victory were handed out, it was Feldman who was held up as the key man, while Shapps was given what they see as a relatively lowly position in the Department for International Development.  Yet Feldman is still in post while Shapps was effectively forced out by David Cameron. Once again, says one, “the PM’s mates are protected, the rest of us shafted”.

As Simon Walters reports in this morning’s Mail on Sunday, the focus is turning onto Feldman, while Paul Goodman, the editor of the influential grassroots website ConservativeHome has piled further pressure on the peer by calling for him to go.

But even Feldman’s resignation is unlikely to be the end of the matter. Although the scope of the allegations against Clarke were unknown to many, questions about his behaviour were widespread, and fears about the conduct of elections in the party’s youth wing are also longstanding. Shortly after the 2010 election, Conservative student activists told me they’d cheered when Sadiq Khan defeated Clarke in Tooting, while a group of Conservative staffers were said to be part of the “Six per cent club” – they wanted a swing big enough for a Tory majority, but too small for Clarke to win his seat. The viciousness of Conservative Future’s internal elections is sufficiently well-known, meanwhile, to be a repeated refrain among defenders of the notoriously opaque democratic process in Labour Students, with supporters of a one member one vote system asked if they would risk elections as vicious as those in their Tory equivalent.

Just as it seems unlikely that Feldman remained ignorant of allegations against Clarke if Shapps knew, it feels untenable to argue that Clarke’s defeat could be cheered by both student Conservatives and Tory staffers and the unpleasantness of the party’s internal election sufficiently well-known by its opponents, without coming across the desk of Conservative politicians above even the chair of CCHQ’s paygrade.

Stephen Bush is editor of the Staggers, the New Statesman’s political blog.