David Cameron has two weeks to save the world

At three big international summits being held in the UK over the next fortnight, nothing less than the fate of the world’s poorest people is at stake.

At three big international summits being held in the UK over the next fortnight, nothing less than the fate of the world’s poorest people is at stake. Not to be overly dramatic about this, but the UK is about to play host to two weeks to save the world. OK, maybe that is a bit overdramatic.

This afternoon in Hyde Park activists and campaigners will gather for ‘The Big IF’. It’s the first time in eight years that the UK development NGOs have pooled their resources and campaigned together. I’ve got my white wrist band, but will a big party in the park really achieve anything?

The campaign is asking for a lot of different things. There are no less than seventeen demands covering eight categories: tax, nutrition, land, biofuels, agriculture, climate change, transparency and accountability. “What do we want?” OK, that might be too complicated, so “when do we want it?” “Now,” of course. When might we might we actually get it?

There are some causes for optimism. This weekend David Cameron hosts a ‘Hunger Summit’ and campaigners, led by Save the Children, hope to squeeze a billion dollars out of the US, the World Bank and the EU. This kind of cheque book signing, or “pledging” of existing aid budgets in the case of the UK, is a relatively easy, soft pro-government agenda. Of course child nutrition is important, but is only one part of the much wider IF agenda.

The following weekend, at another summit, Cameron’s “golden thread” will be weaving its way through the thorny issues of the ‘three Ts’: trade, tax and transparency. That might sound like pretty big agenda but, as Kevin Watkins at the ODI says “you can park expectations on trade” because it’s not going to happen.

Tax dodging is a hot issue, but can a global deal be done? Long-time tax campaigner Melanie Ward of Action Aid warns that a deal with tax havens could leave poor countries “out in the cold” and “would be a victory for self-interest and continued subordination of the world’s poor, rather than progress towards justice”. Tax is a far more challenging agenda for the Government. While Cameron has talked tough on tax, he has shown little sign of action when dealing with tax havens, many of which are, after all, still British overseas territories.

That leaves us with ‘transparency’. As Kevin Watkins explains, “the problem is that transparency initiatives are at best weakly linked to wider strategies for building capacity, strengthening the entitlements of marginalised groups, and giving the poor a voice”. Significant movement on this agenda is more likely to come through revisions to the UN’s Post 2015 Development Agenda, where civil society at least gets a name check, if not yet a tangible target. To better understand why ‘voice’ matters, read Civicus President Jay Nadoo’s passionate call for the voices of the global south to be heard among the professionalised global debate.

So what about the actual G8 summit itself? Like every big leaders’ summit, a lot will depend on the work done by the sherpas ahead of the event itself. You can’t expect the heads of the eight richest countries in the world to just rock up and magically find a consensus. They arrive only in time to dot the ‘i’s, cross the ‘t’s and smile for the photo op. So the next few weeks are crucial, because this is the time that UK Government Ministers will be calling their opposite numbers to thrash out the details of the deal.

The toughest area of all could be preventing land grabs, the more structural issue that the hunger summit will park and leave for the G8 to sort out. So even if the fortnight starts with a victory at the hunger summit, it could end in defeat for the main aim of the IF campaign: Enough Food for Everyone. Then what? Will the UK development NGOs go their separate ways, pursue their own agendas and refuse to work together again for the next eight years, until the next time the UK hosts the G8? Or will the campaign continue onto Russia next year, when Putin hosts the G8, the G20 and, coincidentally, the Winter Olympics?

Having all the eggs in the G8 basket was something IPPR & the ODI warned against at the start of the IF campaign. The whole premise of ‘IF’ was that it was contingent. But that nuance might have been lost on the public. Having such a wide ranging agenda means at least some success is guaranteed but the complexity has made it harder to get the public engaged. With hindsight, a simple focus for this year on tax might have been a better strategy. But there is no doubt that UK development NGOs should have done more to build, sustain and deepen public engagement over the last eight years.

IF is not ‘Make Poverty History’ and 2013 is not 2005. Blair, Brown and Bono at Gleneagles feels like a lifetime ago. But to quote the great Nelson Mandela on the steps of Trafalgar Square, “sometimes it falls upon a generation to be great, you can be that great generation.” No pressure Dave.

Richard Darlington was Special Adviser at DFID 2008-2010 and is now Head of News at IPPR

He tweets: @RDarlo

Nelson Mandela in Trafalgar Square in 2005. Photo: Getty

Richard Darlington is Head of News at IPPR. Follow him on Twitter @RDarlo.

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Erdogan’s purge was too big and too organised to be a mere reaction to the failed coup

There is a specific word for the melancholy of Istanbul. The city is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. 

Even at the worst of times Istanbul is a beautiful city, and the Bosphorus is a remarkable stretch of sea. Turks get very irritated if you call it a river. They are right. The Bosphorus has a life and energy that a river could never equal. Spend five minutes watching the Bosphorus and you can understand why Orhan Pamuk, Turkey’s Nobel laureate for literature, became fixated by it as he grew up, tracking the movements of the ocean-going vessels, the warships and the freighters as they steamed between Asia and Europe.

I went to an Ottoman palace on the Asian side of the Bosphorus, waiting to interview the former prime minister Ahmet Davu­toglu. He was pushed out of office two months ago by President Recep Tayyip Erdogan when he appeared to be too wedded to the clauses in the Turkish constitution which say that the prime minister is the head of government and the president is a ceremonial head of state. Erdogan was happy with that when he was prime minister. But now he’s president, he wants to change the constitution. If Erdogan can win the vote in parliament he will, in effect, be rubber-stamping the reality he has created since he became president. In the days since the attempted coup, no one has had any doubt about who is the power in the land.

 

City of melancholy

The view from the Ottoman palace was magnificent. Beneath a luscious, pine-shaded garden an oil tanker plied its way towards the Black Sea. Small ferries dodged across the sea lanes. It was not, I hasten to add, Davutoglu’s private residence. It had just been borrowed, for the backdrop. But it reminded a Turkish friend of something she had heard once from the AKP, Erdogan’s ruling party: that they would not rest until they were living in the apartments with balconies and gardens overlooking the Bosphorus that had always been the preserve of the secular elite they wanted to replace.

Pamuk also writes about hüzün, the melancholy that afflicts the citizens of Istanbul. It comes, he says, from the city’s history and its decline, the foghorns on the Bosphorus, from tumbledown walls that have been ruins since the fall of the Byzantine empire, unemployed men in tea houses, covered women waiting for buses that never come, pelting rain and dark evenings: the city’s whole fabric and all the lives within it. “My starting point,” Pamuk wrote, “was the emotion that a child might feel while looking through a steamy window.”

Istanbul is suffering a mighty bout of something like hüzün at the moment. In Pamuk’s work the citizens of Istanbul take a perverse pride in hüzün. No one in Istanbul, or elsewhere in Turkey, can draw comfort from what is happening now. Erdogan’s opponents wonder what kind of future they can have in his Turkey. I think I sensed it, too, in the triumphalist crowds of Erdogan supporters that have been gathering day after day since the coup was defeated.

 

Down with the generals

Erdogan’s opponents are not downcast because the coup failed; a big reason why it did was that it had no public support. Turks know way too much about the authoritarian ways of military rule to want it back. The melancholy is because Erdogan is using the coup to entrench himself even more deeply in power. The purge looks too far-reaching, too organised and too big to have been a quick reaction to the attempt on his power. Instead it seems to be a plan that was waiting to be used.

Turkey is a deeply unhappy country. It is hard to imagine now, but when the Arab uprisings happened in 2011 it seemed to be a model for the Middle East. It had elections and an economy that worked and grew. When I asked Davutoglu around that time whether there would be a new Ottoman sphere of influence for the 21st century, he smiled modestly, denied any such ambition and went on to explain that the 2011 uprisings were the true succession to the Ottoman empire. A century of European, and then American, domination was ending. It had been a false start in Middle Eastern history. Now it was back on track. The people of the region were deciding their futures, and perhaps Turkey would have a role, almost like a big brother.

Turkey’s position – straddling east and west, facing Europe and Asia – is the key to its history and its future. It could be, should be, a rock of stability in a desperately un­stable part of the world. But it isn’t, and that is a problem for all of us.

 

Contagion of war

The coup did not come out of a clear sky. Turkey was in deep crisis before the attempt was made. Part of the problem has come from Erdogan’s divisive policies. He has led the AKP to successive election victories since it first won in 2002. But the policies of his governments have not been inclusive. As long as his supporters are happy, the president seems unconcerned about the resentment and opposition he is generating on the other side of politics.

Perhaps that was inevitable. His mission, as a political Islamist, was to change the country, to end the power of secular elites, including the army, which had been dominant since Mustafa Kemal Atatürk created modern Turkey after the collapse of the Ottoman empire. And there is also the influence of chaos and war in the Middle East. Turkey has borders with Iraq and Syria, and is deeply involved in their wars. The borders do not stop the contagion of violence. Hundreds of people have died in the past year in bomb attacks in Turkish cities, some carried out by the jihadists of so-called Islamic State, and some sent by Kurdish separatists working under the PKK.

It is a horrible mix. Erdogan might be able to deal with it better if he had used the attempted coup to try to unite Turkey. All the parliamentary parties condemned it. But instead, he has turned the power of the state against his opponents. More rough times lie ahead.

Jeremy Bowen is the BBC’s Middle East editor. He tweets @bowenbbc

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue