Even if we take a country like Tanzania, generally regarded as striving for autonomous development, we find peasant knowledge neglected and significant inroads made by the dominant model. 'Maize plantations as monocultures are considered a symbol of progress. In reality they present a great danger to soil fertility.'48 No one is studying the agricultural practices of the Tanzanian peasants, who cultivate twenty-four varieties of rice, although grants can be obtained for work on imported rice hybrids. Limestone powder from the major cement works is thrown away, whereas it could make excellent fertilizer - and chemical fertilizers are imported. As a Heidelberg University team working on improved agricultural methods reports on Tanzania:
Until now, there has been nothing available except the strategy of high-yield varieties, fertilizers, pesticides and mechanization ... A country like Tanzania which has decided to obtain independence even with economic disadvantages should be interested in [alternative 'ecofarming'] methods. This is not yet the case; the influence of foreign advisors supporting the ideas of the Green Revolution, considering only the interests of industrial countries, is still too strong.49
What, then, must the influence of the 'advisors' be in countries far more open to neocolonial influences than Tanzania? Local practices in some areas have been all but blotted out and absorbed by colonial or postcolonial cash crop production. In such areas, their resurrection would demand a veritable archaeology of rural traditions. Elsewhere, there are better possibilities to collect, collate and codify local knowledge, but few local or outside agencies and institutions take an interest in such activities.
Let us make quite clear that we are not advocating a 'Garden of Eden' approach; suggesting a return, pure and simple, to ancestral methods, nor an artificial polarization with peasant practices at one extreme and industrialized country methods at the other. Peasant practices represent very real knowledge - not always easily accessible to outsiders - which has ensured food supplies for generations. But they are not perfect: they should be regarded as perfectible. Inputs from other food systems can be beneficially incorporated in these practices, but it should be the community itself which decides how and when. Mechanization, for example, can cause unemployment, but in a different social context it can also increase employment when used (as in China) to raise the number of possible yearly plantings, clear new land, etc. Whether outside elements are beneficial or harmful will greatly depend on the balance of social forces - and thus ultimately on the structures of power.
Isolated, generally ill-funded scientific work is being undertaken on the best 'mixes' of peasant empirical knowledge and Western scientific techniques, but the creation of a new body of knowledge combining the two is still in its infancy. As one researcher has said: 'Agricultural research in developing nations has been conditioned by cropping systems of the more developed countries [so] little attention has been paid to indigenous cropping systems ... It is the lack of knowledge of the principles underlying mixed cropping that has prevented the application of improved technology to these farmers.' One can, however, now show scientifically that indigenous cropping systems use labour more efficiently, give more stable yields from year to year and are 'intrinsically higher yielding' than monoculture. 'The subsistence farmer has developed a highly sophisticated system ... based on good economic sense.'50
Such systems, because they are based on high labour input, are the only ones that could employ the many willing hands now idle in the Third World, as they are the only ones that could serve as a basis for authentic food systems at the national level because they are less costly, replicable, and maintain ecological balance. Unfortunately - and this is a crucial drawback - they contribute very little to anyone's immediate profits - except for the local communities that employ them.
The Real Interests of Industrialized Country Governments
It is obviously not enough to point out the harmful effects of present policies, nor to propose more ecologically and socially rational ones so long as donor governments do not see their own interests served by a change. Ultimately, such governments have something to gain, even commercially, from more progressive policies, less subservient to short-term economic interests. Mahbub ul Haq of the World Bank explained this vividly:
The [New International Economic Order] is not a one-way street of benefit only to the developing countries. Any new deal, whether it is negotiated nationally or internationally, ultimately must insure the viability of the entire society ... My own favourite parallel is the comparison with the New Deal in the United States in the 1930s. What it did was to elevate the working classes from their status of dependency and uncertainty to a status of greater partnership in management by arranging a more equitable sharing of profits ... I am sure that at the time, the people who ran corporations in the United States thought that President Roosevelt was a raving maniac and that the New Deal spelt the demise of capitalism. But with hindsight, one can see that it was an act of unparalleled leadership which saved the American system from its inner contradictions.51
Such arguments apply as well to the help the industrialized countries could give Third World governments in progressing towards authentic food systems. Improving rural prosperity for all - not just privileged groups - would increase demand for all kinds of goods. A distinguished American economist has shown, for example, that more stable prices for Third World commodities instituted ten years ago would have resulted in economic gains for the United States of $15 billion over the decade in prevented unemployment and GNP loss.52
Northern governments could also promote mutually beneficial trade by concentrating on writing off Third World public debt. In some cases, up to a third of export revenues immediately returns northwards as annual debt-service. Debt reduction could be an alternative to direct funding of projects.
If developed country governments took the lead in necessary economic restructuring, if they were the first to point out the intrinsic value of local food systems, Third World governments might begin to take a renewed pride in their own cultural inheritance. If donor countries trained their own aid cadres and scientists to start from and build upon the local situation, rather than to alter it along industrialized-country lines, local cadres and scientists might begin to see their own peasantries as an indispensable and precious resource rather than as an obstacle to development, as is so often the case today.
There will be formidable pressures against First World cooperation in the development of authentic Third World food systems. Some pressures will come from within - from the interests that have a financial or ideological stake in dependency. Some will come from without - from elements among Third World elites desirous of maintaining systems that cater to their needs or whims at the expense of their poorer compatriots. Yet a politics of vision should look towards a farther horizon; towards that diversity and authenticity - cultural and agricultural - upon which depends our common prosperity and survival.
3
FOOD, FAMINE AND SERVICE DELIVERY IN TIMES OF EMERGENCY
The International Council of Voluntary Agencies (ICVA) held its triennial General Conference in Dakar, Senegal, in May 1985- Both the venue and the audience attracted me. The former turned out to be a hotel-conference complex on the sea, gorgeous but far removed from Senegalese life, of which I learned only a little; the second was made up of about 150 voluntary agency representatives from around the world, including a lot of Africans. The general keynote speech was delivered by Cardinal Paulo Evaristo Arns of Sao Paulo, a hero of mine if not of the Pope's; and there were three other 'theme' keynotes including this one. The title of the speech isn't mine, but it's marginally snappier than the one ICVA initially asked me to deliver, which was 'The strengthening of voluntary agency cooperation and partnership on a global basis'. Professor Amartya Sen was supposed to deal with 'Food, famine and service delivery in times of emergency' but unfortunately he couldn't come. Some shuffling took place and I got his topic, one on which I was, and am, singularly unqualified to speak. I have never worked
in, nor indeed even visited, a 'famine camp'. So I tried to imagine the impossible demands made on the courageous people who devote their lives, or part of them, to relieving acute distress and to explain the context of famines.
What's really needed to make emergency aid forever unnecessary is action before outright famine occurs. Biologists know that if you put a frog in boiling water it will jump out. But if you put the frog in cold water and heat it gradually to boiling point, it will stay there and be boiled alive. The frog has not been equipped by nature to respond to incremental increases in temperature. Human beings do not have the frog's excuse: all the signs of impending famine have been identified; they are among the easiest of social phenomena to predict. Governments are not always, however, terribly interested in devoting resources to saving the lives of poor people, which is why they will require the services of ICVA's member agencies for a long time to come.
Here is a short programme for agency personnel and field staff which will help them in future to avoid the criticism that is so frequently and so generously bestowed on them, especially in emergency situations.
First, they must take graduate degrees in social anthropology, geography, economics, a dozen or so difficult and unrelated languages, medicine and business administration.
Second, at a slightly more practical level they must demonstrate competence in agronomy, hydrology, practical nursing, accounting, psychology, automotive mechanics and civil engineering.
In addition, they must learn to give a credible imitation of saintliness, and it would be well if they could learn sleight-of-hand as well, since they will often be called upon to perform feats of magic.
After the successful completion of this programme, they will take on jobs that don't pay much, but in exchange they will be allowed to work long hours, often under material conditions of extreme deprivation.
Such a programme just barely exaggerates the qualifications and outlook that seem to be expected, explicitly or implicitly, of agency staffs. It's amazing so many still want to work for them; to devote their lives, or a part of them, to alleviating human suffering wherever it may occur. And it's clear that no single person - not even a group of people - could possibly bring together all the knowledge and skills needed for perfect food crisis management.
Without, however, obtaining a basketful of Ph.D.s, it's still possible to keep in mind a few helpful general principles and to avoid the worst traps. Where relief efforts fail or become entrenched without apparent prospect of ending, usually, as one scholar has put it, the heart of the problem is that no consensus exists about the origins of famine nor on the underlying question of the root causes of Third World underdevelopment.1
What are some of the things we now know about famine which could and should inform the response of those attempting to cope with it? We can usefully break down this general question into subsets. What do we know about the way famines build up and how can we learn to read the warning signs? Will we ever be able to capture public and government attention and direct them to famine prevention, or will they always prefer the fireman's approach and the full-blown disaster? How does the phenomenon of famine affect the victims - both individuals and societies? And how do their reactions bear on the response of relief agencies? Finally, what is, or should be, the political role - in the broadest sense - of agencies on behalf of famine victims?
Though there may still be more questions than answers, these are some of the themes I hope we can explore during our time here together. For now, I shall make only the briefest attempt at an outline.
Far too large a segment of public opinion - and even some governments - still look on famine as a consequence of drought, full stop. Nevertheless, among people who devote serious thought to the question, the consensus is that famines are definitely not natural phenomena. They are not caused by drought, floods or other acts of God, even though such acts may prove to be triggering events. Although such people do not discount the role of population pressures and ecological stress, many would also say succinctly that there are no environmental problems - what do exist are the social and political problems that invariably underlie and cause ecological strain.
As long ago as 1926, the Italian economist and statistician Corrado Gini pointed out that famines are economic disasters and represent for poor countries what full-scale economic depressions and crises represent for rich, industrialized ones.2 Though still occasionally resisted, this conceptual approach has been confirmed again and again by the facts: famine represents the breakdown of a whole society, a reshuffling of the economic and political cards. After a famine, the situation will never return to the status quo ante - a whole new social structure will have taken its place.
Paradoxically, famines take place in the countryside - where people do produce, or could produce, food. Though towns may experience shortages and rationing, they are generally exempt from outright famine, as Amartya Sen has shown.3 Because city people are concentrated and therefore potentially dangerous, they are taken care of by the State, which is anxious to prevent upheavals and to preserve its own power. This situation may, of course, change as more and more rapid urbanization takes place and governments become less and less able to cope. But in our time, famine is a predominantly rural event.
Poor people in the countryside are vulnerable, they lack buffers, and the smallest change in their fragile equilibrium can spell the difference between life and death. When people live close to the brink of survival even in 'normal' times, events that might seem insignificant to us - a tiny increase in the price of some necessity, especially food, the death of an animal, reduced wages or a sudden dismissal - can sink the vulnerable because they have no fallback position. If these incremental changes strike enough people at once, the result will be widespread hunger and, if nothing is done, outright famine. Climate alone is clearly not to blame. Here are some of the traits vulnerable people usually have in common:
• They have no cash reserves. In times of poor harvest and food shortages, prices rise. Poor farmers have already sold their crop just after harvest when prices are lowest, in order to pay off their debts. They will have to buy back later in the year when prices have doubled or quadrupled. Speculators make fortunes. The poor often have to borrow just to keep on eating. With famine comes greater indebtedness.
•They have no food reserves. When dire shortages strike, they eat their seeds, slaughter or sell their animals, and mortgage or realize assets like tools, jewellery or, in the worst cases, land itself. These transactions will of course reduce the next year's yield. With famine comes greater land concentration and greater polarization of the society between rich and poor.
•They have no job opportunities. As food grows scarcer, the number of people seeking work goes up. Competition for jobs drives down wages - just when food prices are shooting up. With famine comes higher unemployment.
•They have nowhere to go. They look for jobs over a wider and wider area. Finally migration to the nearby or faraway city may seem the only option - at least they may find a soup kitchen there. With famine come swelling urban populations made up of the masses of ex-peasants.
This is a simple scenario. It grows more complex when civil war or great power struggles are added to the plot, but essentially provides a basis for understanding how shortages build towards social crisis and sometimes society's collapse.
These observable trends can also serve to predict - and ideally to prevent - food crises. Some agencies and governments are now trying to foresee food shortages and famines, using complex meteorological models and satellite photography. Apparently they believe that the fancier the technology the more accurate the results. This is not necessarily the case. Again, social and economic indicators are likely to engender far more precise information. Experienced agency field staff are especially well placed to notice small changes which, read together, can become the most efficient of early warning systems.
The most obvious warning signs are rising food prices, unusually high sales of a
nimals at steadily declining prices, longer queues of people looking for work, more married men seeking seasonal employment elsewhere, more women gathering typical 'famine foods', more trees being cut down for sale, more beggars going from house to house, higher than average sales of implements, jewellery or land and the like. Any seasoned observer with a sensitivity to local conditions could draw up a list of danger signals in five minutes. Anyone who is accustomed to talking with and listening to the local people will know sooner than the authorities when distress is felt. The problem may not be so much to discover that a serious food shortage or famine is looming, but to get that information passed upwards and taken seriously.
Agencies that are not already doing so should encourage this kind of informal monitoring, and might even decide to formalize it, where staff numbers and time allow. The British developed a monitoring system that was instituted in India from 1913 on-wards - one could do worse than to adapt to local conditions the series of questions they expected to be answered weekly, fortnightly or monthly by their District Officers.4
People who will be expected to cope with food crises should be trained to recognize potential breakdowns in both physical and social systems. There are different ways to help them. Some scholars suggest drawing critical event trees that show how various events interact and may lead to crises. The branches of the tree can be labelled in different ways, depending on the situation one wants to keep track of, but for analysing a food system the tree should certainly include branches labelled Political Events, Production, Distribution, Employment, Storage, Credit, Consumption, Relief. A critical event on one branch may not have much impact on the food situation all by itself - for example, an outbreak of border fighting on the political branch alone might have no effect on people 100 miles away. If, however, the fighting provokes an influx of refugees or if the military decide to hoard food stocks as a result and if, further, there is a critical event on the production branch like a pest attack - then the society may find itself well on the way towards serious shortage and perhaps famine. Crisis managers should learn to chart, read and expect such interactions.5