I well realize that this is a conference on women’s
global health, and everything I’m about to say will apply to that generic
definition. But the more I thought of the subject matter, the more I want to
use HIV/AIDS in Africa as a surrogate for
every international issue of women’s health, partly because it’s what I know
best; partly because it’s an accurate reflection of reality.
I’ve been in the Envoy role for four years. Things are
changing in an incremental, if painfully glacial way. It’s now possible to feel
merely catastrophic rather than apocalyptic. Initiatives on treatment,
resources, training, capacity, infrastructure and prevention are underway. But
one factor is largely impervious to change: the situation of women. On the
ground, where it counts, where the wily words confront reality, the lives of
women are as mercilessly desperate as they have always been in the last twenty
plus years of the pandemic.
Just a few weeks ago, I was in Zambia, visiting a district well outside of Lusaka. We were taken to
a rural village to see an “income generating project” run by a group of Women
Living With AIDS. They were gathered under a large banner proclaiming their
identity, some fifteen or twenty women, all living with the virus, all looking
after orphans. They were standing proudly beside the income generating project
… a bountiful cabbage patch. After they had spoken volubly and eloquently about
their needs and the needs of their children (as always, hunger led the litany),
I asked about the cabbages. I assumed it supplemented their diet? Yes, they
chorused. And you sell the surplus at market? An energetic nodding of heads.
And I take it you make a profit? Yes again. What do you do with the profit? And
this time there was an almost quizzical response as if to say what kind of
ridiculous question is that … surely you knew the answer before you asked: “We
buy coffins of course; we never have enough coffins”.
It’s at moments like that when I feel the world has
gone mad. That’s no existential spasm on my part. I simply don’t know how
otherwise to characterize what we’re doing to half of humankind.
I want to remind you that it took until the Bangkok
AIDS conference in 2004 --- more than twenty years into the pandemic --- before
the definitive report from UNAIDS disaggregated the statistics and commented,
extensively, upon the devastating vulnerability of women. The phrase “AIDS has
a woman’s face” actually gained currency at the AIDS conference in Barcelona two
years earlier, in 2002, and even then it was years late. Perhaps we should stop
using it now as though it has a revelatory dimension. The women of Africa have always known whose face it is that’s withered
and aching from the virus.
I want to remind you that when the Millennium
Development Goals were launched, there was no goal on sexual and reproductive
health. How was that possible? Everyone is now scrambling to find a way to make
sexual and reproductive health fit comfortably into HIV/AIDS or women’s
empowerment or maternal mortality. But it surely should have had a category, a
goal, of its own. Interestingly, the primacy of women is rescued (albeit
there’s still no goal) in the Millennium Project document, authored by Jeffrey
Sachs.
And while mentioning maternal mortality, allow me to
point out that this issue has been haunting the lives of women for generations.
I can remember back in the late 90s, when I was overseeing the publication of
State of the World’s Children for UNICEF, and we did a major piece on maternal
mortality and realized that the same number of annual deaths --- between 500
and 600 hundred thousand --- had not changed for twenty years. And now it’s
thirty years. You can bet that if there was something called paternal
mortality, the numbers wouldn’t be frozen in time for three decades.
I want to remind you that within the UN system,
there’s something called the Task Force on Women and AIDS in Southern
Africa. Permit me to tell you how it came about, and where it
appears to be headed … and I beg you to see this as descriptive rather than self-indulgent.
In January of 2003, I traveled with the Executive
Director of the World Food Programme, James Morris, to four African countries
beset by a combination of famine and AIDS: Zimbabwe,
Zambia, Malawi and Lesotho. We had surmised, at the
outset, that we would be dealing primarily with drought and erratic rainfall,
but in the field it became apparent that to a devastating extent, agricultural
productivity and household food security were being clobbered by AIDS. We were
shocked by the human toll, the numbers of orphans, and the pervasive death
amongst the female population. In fact, so distressed were we about the
decimation of women, that we appealed to the Secretary-General of the United
Nations to personally intervene.
And he did. He summoned a high level meeting on the 38th
floor of the UN Secretariat, with TV conferencing outreach to James Morris in Rome and to the various UN agencies in Geneva,
and after several agitated interventions, the Secretary-General struck a Task
Force on Gender and AIDS in Southern Africa,
to be chaired by Carol Bellamy of UNICEF.
If memory serves me, Carol Bellamy determined to focus
on seven of the highest prevalence rate countries: studies were done,
recommendations were made, costs of implementation were estimated, monographs
were published. And here’s what festers in the craw: the funding for
implementation is not yet available. The needs and rights of women never
command singular urgency.
There’s an odd footnote to this. Within the last two
months, a number of senior students at the University of Toronto Law School,
compiled papers dealing with potential legal interventions on a number of issues
related to HIV/AIDS in Africa. One of the
issues was, predictably, gender. Not a single student, over the course of several
weeks, whether on the internet or wider personal reading, came across the
Secretary-General’s Task Force (although one student said that she had a vague
recollection that such a thing existed). The Task Force findings are clearly
not something the UN promotes with messianic fervour.
I want to remind you that as recently as March, there
was tabled, internationally, the Commission on Africa,
chaired by Prime Minister Tony Blair … indeed established by Tony Blair. It has
received nothing but accolades, particularly for the analysis and
recommendations on Official Development Assistance, on trade and on debt. The
tributes are deserved. The document goes further down a progressive road than
any other contemporary international compilation.
With one exception. I want it to be known --- because
it’s not known --- that the one aspect of this prestigious report which fails,
lamentably, is the way in which it deals with women. There is the occasional
obligatory paragraph which signals that the Commission recognizes that there
are two sexes in the world, but by and large, given that women are absolutely
central to the very integrity and survival of the African continent, they are
dealt with as they are always dealt with in these auspicious studies: at the
margins, in passing, pro forma. And it’s not just HIV/AIDS; it’s everything,
from trade to agriculture to conflict to peace-building.
Maybe we should have guessed what was coming when
there were only three women appointed out of seventeen commissioners. They had
the whole world to choose from, and they could find only three women … it
doesn’t even begin to meet the Beijing
minimum target of thirty percent. We’re not just climbing uphill; we might as
well be facing the Himalayas.
I want to remind you, finally, of the arrangements
we’ve made within the United Nations itself. HIV/AIDS is the worst plague this
world is facing; it wrecks havoc on women and girls, and within the multilateral
system, best-placed to confront the pandemic, we have absolutely no agency of power
to promote women’s development, to offer advice and technical assistance to
governments on their behalf, and to oversee programmes, as well as representing
the rights of women. We have no agency of authority to intervene on behalf of
half the human race. Despite the mantra of ‘Women’s Rights are Human Rights’, intoned
at the International Conference on Human Rights in Vienna in 1993; despite the pugnacious
assertion of the rights of women advanced at the Cairo International conference
in 1994; despite the Beijing Conference on women in 1995; despite the existence
of the Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination against Women, now
ratified by over 150 countries; we have only UNIFEM, the UN Development Fund
for Women, with an annual core budget in the vicinity of $20 million
dollars, to represent the women of the world. There are several UNICEF offices
in individual developing countries where the annual budget is greater than that
of UNIFEM.
More, UNIFEM isn’t even a free-standing entity. It’s a
department of the UNDP (the United Nations Development Programme). Its
Executive Director ranks lower in grade than over a dozen of her colleagues
within UNDP, and lower in rank than the vast majority of the
Secretary-General’s Special Representatives.
More still, because UNIFEM is so marginalized, there’s
nobody to represent women adequately on the group of co-sponsors convened by
UNAIDS. You see, UNAIDS is a coordinating body: it coordinates the AIDS
activities of UNICEF, UNDP, the World Bank, UNESCO, UNFPA, WHO, UNDCP (the Drug
Agency), ILO and WFP. UNIFEM asked to be a co-sponsor, but it was denied that
privilege.
So who, I ask, speaks for women at the heart of the
pandemic? Well, UNFPA in part. And UNICEF, in part (a smaller part). And
ostensibly UNDP (although from my observations in the field, “ostensible” is
the operative word).
Let me be clear: what we have here is the most
ferocious assault ever made by a communicable disease on women’s health, and
there is just no concerted coalition of forces to go to the barricades on
women’s behalf. We do have the Global Coalition on Women and AIDS, launched
almost by way of desperation, by some international women leaders … like Mary
Robinson, like Geeta Rao Gupta, but they’re struggling for significant sustainable
funding, and their presence on the ground is inevitably peripheral.
I was listening to the presentations at the dinner
last night, and thinking to myself, when in heaven’s name does it end?
Obstetric fistula causes such awful misery, and isn’t it symptomatic that one
of the largest --- perhaps the largest --- contributions to addressing this
appalling condition has come not from a government but from Oprah Winfrey?
I was noting, just in the last 48 hours, that Save the
Children in the UK
has released a report pointing out that fully half of the three hundred thousand
child soldiers in the world are girls. And if that isn’t a maiming of health
--- in this case emotional and psychological health --- then I don’t know what
is. And perhaps you notice the rancid irony: women have achieved parity on the
receiving end of conflict and AIDS, but nowhere else.
Female genital mutilation, the contagion of violence
against women, sexual violence in particular, rape as a weapon of war ---
Rwanda, Darfur, Northern Uganda, Eastern Congo --- marital rape, child
defilement, as it is called in Zambia, sexual trafficking, maternal mortality, early
marriage … I pause to point out that studies now show that in parts of Africa, the
prevalence rates of HIV in marriage are often higher than they are for sexually
active single women in the surrounding community; who would have thought that
possible? …
The overall subject matters you’re tackling at this
conference strike to the heart of the human condition. All my adult life I have
accepted the feminist analysis of male power and authority. But perhaps because
of an acute naiveté, I never imagined that the analysis would be overwhelmed by
the objective historical realities. Of course the women’s movement has had
great successes, but the contemporary global struggle to secure women’s health
seems to me to be a challenge of almost insuperable dimension.
And because I believe that, and because I see the
evidence month after month, week after week, day after day, in the unremitting
carnage of women and AIDS --- God it tears the heart from the body … I just
don’t know how to convey it … these young young women, who crave so desperately
to live, who suddenly face a pox, a scourge which tears their life from them
before they have a life … who can’t even get treatment because the men are
first in line, or the treatment rolls out at such a paralytic snail’s pace …
who are part of the 90% of pregnant women who have no access to the prevention
of Mother to Child Transmission and so their infants are born positive … who
carry the entire burden of care even while they’re sick, tending to the family,
carrying the water, tilling the fields, looking after the orphans … the women
who lose their property, and have no inheritance rights, and no legal or
jurisprudential infrastructure which will guarantee those rights … no criminal
code which will stop the violence … because I have observed all of that, and
have observed it for four years, and am driven to distraction by the
recognition that it will continue, I want a kind of revolution in the world’s
response, not another stab at institutional reform, but a virtual
revolution.
Let me, therefore, put before the conference, two
quite pragmatic responses which will make a world of difference to women, and then
a much more fundamental proposal.
Many at the conference will not know this, but the
Kingdom of Swaziland recently made history when it received from the Global
Fund on AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria, money to pay a stipend --- modest of
course, but of huge impact --- to ten thousand caregivers, looking after
orphans, the vast majority being women. The Swaziland National AIDS Commission
(that may not be the precise name), reeling from the exploding orphan
population, made the proposal for payment to the Global Fund, and it swept
through the review process with nary a word. The amount is roughly $30/month,
or a dollar a day … not a lot to be sure, but clearly enough to make a great
difference.
My recommendation is that this conference orchestrate
the writing of a letter, to be signed by people like Mary Robinson, Geeta Rao
Gupta, and prominent women from academia, and have that letter sent to every
African Head of State and Minister of Health, urging them to ask for
compensation for caregivers, using the Swaziland precedent.
And the second pragmatic proposal? I would recommend,
with every fibre of persuasion at my command, that the conference collaborate
directly with the International Partnership on Microbicides, whose remarkably
effective Executive Director, Dr. Zeda Rosenberg, will be here on campus on
Thursday. She will tell you what she needs and how to go about getting it. The
prospect of a microbicide, in the form of a gel or cream or ring, which will
prevent infection, while permitting conception --- the partner need not even
know of its presence --- can save the lives of millions of women. The head of
UNAIDS, Dr. Peter Piot, who will be known to many of you, recently suggested
that the discovery of a microbicide may be only three to four years off. That’s
almost miraculous: short of a vaccine --- and we must never stop the
indefatigable hunt for a vaccine --- a microbicide can transform the lives of
women, and dramatically reduce their disproportionate vulnerability. What’s
needed is science and money. You can help with both.
On the more fundamental front, I want to suggest that
the process of UN reform, now urgently underway, be confronted with arguments
that spare no impatience.
I have heard the President of Botswana use the word
extermination when he described what the country is battling. I have heard the
Prime Minister of Lesotho use the word annihilation when he described what the
country is battling. I sat with the President of Zambia and members of his
cabinet not long ago, when he used the
word holocaust to describe what the country is battling.
The words are true; there’s no hyperbole. The words
apply, overwhelmingly, to women. That being the case, there has to be a
proportionate response. It seems to me that the response should proceed on two
simultaneous fronts.
First, let me say that I was thrilled by the
suggestion from Mary Robinson, and others, that Penn State
act as a kind of coordinator for the surprising numbers of initiatives,
unrelated one to the other, occurring under the auspices of many universities.
The practice of twinning, the practice of using various Faculties as training
centres, the practice of American and Canadian universities bridging the gap in
capacity until the developing country can take over … all of that is to the
good, and it needs coordination. But there’s more, I would submit, for you to
do. Within multilateralism, that is within the UN system, wherein lies the best
hope for leadership, there must be a change in the representation of women.
There must emerge, for Women’s Global Health, and certainly for HIV/AIDS, an
agency, an organization, a powerful Think Tank, whatever the entity --- it can
start on the outside, and then claim equal presence amongst the co-sponsors of
UNAIDS, and thrust its advocacy upon the Secretariat, the Agencies, the member
states, in unprecedented volume and urgency. Nor does this entity confine
itself solely to women’s global health, although that is the entry point. It
insists on the 50% rule … just start your evidence-gathering by identifying the
numbers of senior women, agency by agency, secretariat department by
secretariat department, diplomatic mission by diplomatic mission, and when
you’ve recovered from the shock of learning that the multilateral citadel knows
nothing of affirmative action, then begin your unrelenting advocacy. This must
become a movement for social change. It needs leadership. Why not this
University, why not this conference? And let me emphasize; there’s nothing
limiting about this concept. We’re looking towards the day when governments are
finally made to understand that women constitute half of everything that
affects humankind, and must therefore be engaged in absolutely everything. Why
would it not be possible to build a movement, committed to the rights of women,
in the first instance amongst nursing and medical faculties across the world,
and take the world by storm? You have resources, knowledge and influence
available to no others. The terrible problem is that you’ve never marshalled
your collective capacities.
Second, a similar movement must be directed, I would
submit, to Africa itself. I’m hesitant here,
because there are enough neo-colonial impulses around without my being
presumptuous in making recommendations for Africa,
and indeed for women. But I must bring myself to say what I know to be true:
the African leadership, at the highest level, is not engaged when it comes to
women’s health. There’s so much lip service; there’s so much patronizing
gobble-de-gook. The political leadership of Africa
has to be lobbied with an almost maniacal intensity on the issues of this
conference, or nothing will change for women.
That, too, will take a monumental effort. In my
fantasies, I see a group of African women, moving country to country, President
to President, identifying violations of women’s health specific to that
country, and demanding a change so profound that it shakes to the root the
gender relationships of the society. I know that African women leaders like
Wangari Matthai and Graça Machel and many prominent cabinet ministers, committed
activists and professionals think in those terms; what is needed is a massive
outpouring of international support from their sisters and brothers on the
planet.
I’m 67 years old. I’m a man. I’ve spent time in
politics, diplomacy and multilateralism. I know a little of how this man’s world
works, but I still find much of it inexplicable. I don’t really care anymore
about whom I might offend or what line I cross: that’s what’s useful about
inching into one’s dotage.
I know only that this world is off its rocker when it
comes to women. I must admit that I live in such a state of perpetual rage at
what I see happening to women in the pandemic, that I would like to throttle
those responsible, those who’ve waited so unendurably long to act, those who
can find infinite resources for war but never sufficient resources to
ameliorate the human condition.
I’m excited of course about the Millennium Development
Goals, and I’m equally excited that with the leadership of the British, this
next G8 Summit in the summer might just possibly spawn a breakthrough. And
there are countless numbers of people working to that end.
But I have to say that I can’t get the images of women
I’ve met, unbearably ill, out of my mind. And I don’t have it in me either to
forgive or to forget. I have it in me only to join with all of you in the
greatest liberation struggle there is: the struggle on behalf of the women of
the world.
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