No-Nonsense Guide to International Development, 2nd Edition

Maggie Black

• Publisher: Between the Lines
• Year: 2007
• ISBN:
  9781771130592
• Edition: 2
• Topic: Politique et relations internationales
• Subtopic: Mondialisation

"Overseas aid" and "international development" are catch-all terms that cover a multitude of activities – and abuses. Building dams in India, planting treesin Burkina Faso, and rescuing street children in Brazil are images of development with which we can all identify. But what few people realize is that the terms "aid" and "development" often mask confusion, contradiction, and even downright deceit.

The updated version of 2002's best-selling No-Nonsense Guide to International Development explains what "development" actually is – and explores its political and economic roots in history. It shows what can happen in the name of development and argues for a more organic, social approach with those it seeks to serve as equal partners in the process.

1 The history of an idea

The idea of ‘development’ was invented in the post-Second World War world to describe the process by which ‘backward’ countries would ‘catch up’ with the industrialized world – courtesy of its assistance. Almost six decades and much sobering experience later, the concept has spawned an industry of thinking and practice and undergone much evolution. However, the numbers of poor people in whose name development is justified are greater than they were when it was invented, and in many cases their poverty stems directly from the havoc it has wreaked on their lives. Under these circumstances, is the concept any longer useful?

WHERE SHOULD WE go first to understand ‘development’? Let us start at Rosia Montana in central Romania, in June 2006.

Villagers here are faced with a classic ‘development’ dilemma. A Canadian mining company, Gabriel Resources, is planning to create here the biggest open-cast gold mine in Europe. This will require pulverizing four mountains, polluting the whole area, demolishing a village of 2,000 people and ravaging prehistoric sacred sites. The company claims that their new ‘model’ village and the jobs they will provide are a heaven-sent ‘development’ opportunity for people living in poverty. Some families have accepted the compensation package and moved out. But others resist, fearing the loss of the places and life-style they value, and blaming the profit-hungry company for tearing the community apart.¹

On the other side of the world, in the Himalayan foothills, activist Sunderlal Bahuguna was forced to give up a similar fight in December 2001. For several decades, he spearheaded protest against the construction of a dam at Tehri on the Ganges in northern India, but his hut was submerged when the reservoir inundated the poorest quarters of the town. By the end of 2005, the town was totally submerged. Thousands of hectares of fertile land were also flooded, displacing around 100,000 people. The dam is close to a seismic fault capable of unleashing earthquakes measuring 8.5 on the Richter scale. If it breaches, there will be an immense catastrophe. Despite recommendations from several government reviews that the dam should not be built, its construction was unstoppable. If typical Indian experience is anything to go by, most of those affected will vanish into penury. Land compensation was restricted by bureaucratic fiat, and much of the cash compensation allocation mysteriously disappeared.²

Stories such as these abound in most corners of the developing world. Many never see the light of international attention because they are about less spectacular installations – factories, power plants, flyovers, office blocks, fancy new housing developments where villages or settlements of ‘illegal’ squatters fringed the city and got in the way. Planning does not include democratic consultation, omits adequate compensation for the displaced, and neglects environmental concerns. Construction is accompanied by official secrecy, deal-fixing, corruption and inefficiency – and dirt-cheap wages for site laborers, many of whom are women and children. Not all such projects demonstrate these failings, but they are typical of many. International investment – from the private market, the public purse, or some combination of the two – is often involved.

The irony of these projects is that they are justified in the name of ‘development’. This amorphous term covers a host of activities as both means and ends, but unquestionably includes infrastructural projects. In many ways, these are emblematic of development – its symbols, its markers, its statements of faith and in some cases its all-too-familiar white elephants. The essence of ‘development’, as most people understand the term, is that it should combat poverty. Yet many of these projects adversely affect poor people and inflict poverty on others who were not poor before. They do this in the name of progress, modernization and economic growth – legitimate goals no doubt. But not without legitimate democratic consultation and just compensation.

Development destruction

According to one estimate, 10 million people a year worldwide suffer forced displacement from the construction of dams and urban transportation systems alone.³ The numbers compare to the 12 million refugees annually displaced by wars and other ‘disasters’. But refugees may one day go home. The development-displaced can never do that. Balakrishnan Rajagopal, a human-rights specialist at Massachusetts Institute of Technology in the US, describes these forced dislocations of people as ‘development cleansing’. He points out that they may also constitute ethnic cleansing in disguise, since a disproportionate number of the dispossessed are from minority groups. No one knows how many millions of people altogether have been displaced into poverty by large projects: they are systematically undercounted. In China’s Western Poverty Reduction Project in Quinghua, the World Bank later discovered that entire towns of Tibetan and Mongol minorities were not counted as ‘affected’.⁴ The World Commission on Dams found in 2000 that large dams had displaced at least 80 million people around the world.

In fact, many of the projects that precipitate displacement turn out to have been over-optimistic in their cost-benefit projections, and while they may corral rivers, generate power, manufacture steel, house civil servants, or enable planes to land, they also contribute to the load of debt under which the country staggers. As a consequence, extra national resources are spent on paying back creditors instead of on the education, health, water supplies, and livelihood support the poorest people so desperately need.

Truly, development is a very contradictory affair if it reinforces the very poverty that it aims to eliminate. How can something pursued in the name of ‘the poor’, to bring about improvements in their productivity and lifestyles, be co-opted to discriminate against them? The reality is that, too often, the poverty of certain communities or nations is used as a pretext for promoting investments that are primarily designed to improve incomes and lifestyles for the better off. This is achieved by creating low-waged employment in burgeoning cities whose buckling urban fabric is another manifestation of acute development distress.

Human Development Report 1999, Oxford University Press/UNDP

At the start of the new century, after 50 years of rapidly growing global prosperity, 2.8 billion people worldwide survived on less than $2 a day⁵ – a greater number than the entire world population in 1950. Instead of creating a more equal world, five decades of ‘development’ produced a socio-economic global apartheid: small archipelagos of wealth within and between nation-states, surrounded by impoverished humanity.⁶

In a world where extremists act out their hatred of the ‘developed’ in stupendous acts of terrorist atrocity, to say that the vision has soured is a gross understatement. The post-9/11 obsession with ‘terror’ has given a new complexion to the continually evolving relationship between the world’s haves and have-nots. So have the escalating protests about globalization, and the new politics of people’s resistance in countries such as Mexico and India, where development has been too often experienced not as opportunity, but as damage.

So is the vision of development just a chimera? Should the mission cease? If the activities carried out in its name are so fraught with contradiction and even constitute a pretext for violence against people living in poverty, is the idea of ‘development’ any longer useful? How do we come to terms with the reality that actions taken at the international level in the name of ‘the poor’ may do something for a country’s balance sheet and for some of its inhabitants, but nothing at all for those whose conditions of life justified it in the beginning? There are painful questions at the heart of this vast and elusive subject.

Beginnings

The idea of development was born not in the developing world, but in the West, as a product of the post-colonial age. Latin American scholars made an important intellectual contribution from the start. The ideas of Mahatma Gandhi of India, Mao Zedong of China, Julius Nyerere of Tanzania and, more recently, of increasing numbers of actors and thinkers in the countries of the South, also played their part. Nonetheless, its evolution in theory and practice has been driven by the industrialized world.

Today there is a large literature on theories of development, all grist to the mill of development discourse and proof of its academic respectability. Some authors seek the roots of the idea in Marx and Hegel, others go back to 17th century political economist Adam Smith, or further back to the European Age of Enlightenment with its novel suggestion of transforming the world by scientific discovery and human intervention.⁷ One or two even cite the dawn of settled agriculture 10,000 years ago as the moment the development train left the station.

Fascinating as these philosophical excursions into the past are, for all practical purposes the idea in its modern guise came from US President Harry S Truman. On 20 January 1949, in his inaugural address, he declared that the benefits of scientific advance and industrial progress must be made available for the ‘underdeveloped’ areas. ‘What we envisage,’ he said, ‘is a program of development based on the concepts of democratic fair dealing.’⁸ The 1947 US Marshall Plan for economic regeneration in post-Second World War Europe had been a great success. No doubt Truman had something similar in mind for the rest of the world. The underlying purpose, as with the Marshall Plan, was the consolidation of US influence in places that might otherwise be infected with the communist virus.

During the 1950s, the stakes rose. The growing stand-off between Western allies and the Eastern bloc, and the accelerating departure of the imperial powers from their colonies in Africa and Asia, reinforced the strategic urge to lock ‘emerging’ nations all over the world into the US sphere of influence. Many of the newly independent countries tried to stay aloof. A movement of ‘non-aligned’ countries was launched in 1955 at a conference in Bandung, Indonesia. Its leaders were the then-giants of the new nations – Presidents Nehru of India and Nkrumah of Ghana, for example. This was the genesis of the ‘Third World’: an attempt to assert a group identity separate from both the capitalist West – the ‘First World’ and the Communist Eastern bloc – the ‘Second’. As a geopolitical entity, the Third World never stood a chance. But that was not obvious at the time.

Naming names

All terms used to denote countries needing ‘development’ have shortcomings. Axis descriptors – developing/developed, non-industrialized/industrialized, rich/poor – are crude and value-laden. Since the end of the Cold War, the term ‘Third World’ has become outdated, though it is still sometimes used. ‘North’ and ‘South’ are preferable since they carry fewer pejorative connotations. In this Guide, all these terms are used in different contexts, in full recognition that none is satisfactory.

A post-colonial construct

As decolonization gathered pace, a new vocabulary was coined to describe free and sovereign countries that had, until then, consisted of imperial subject peoples. The rush for independence – no less than 17 countries in Africa first raised their flags in 1960 – put the seal on the construct of a ‘developing’ world, with which the Third World soon became synonymous. Apart from the geographical accident that placed almost all the new countries in the tropics, they had an obvious feature in common: their lack of industrialization – in a word, their ‘poverty’. To shed this condition, they needed capital resources and technical know-how from what were now their richer ‘partners’ on the world stage. If the First World was ungenerous, they would – and did – naturally look to the Second.

Thus was born the push for international development, a concept which embraced ideological fervor along with more conventional notions of investment and technological transformation, and a vital part of whose impulse was the strategic and economic self-interest of the US and its allies. Countries that wanted to benefit from Western largesse adopted its language and ideas, even though this cast them and their peoples in pejorative terms as ‘ignorant’ and inferior, objects of paternalistic assistance.

The crude dichotomy of ‘developed’ and ‘developing’ nations was later re-formulated as North and South. The notional lumping of count...