The Big Truck That Went By was a nice addendum to the foreign aid politics that we began last week in The Rise and Fall of Hunan Rights. Katz does an amazing job with revealing the truth about organizations like The Red Cross. For me, there has always been a hesitancy when it came to donating money through organizations. The reason for my hesitancy was because I questioned where exactly my money would be going. Does it go directly into the communities of Haiti? Does my money even reach the hands of the citizens I am supposedly funding? All of my inquiries prove to be valid as Katz dissects the expenditures of these organizations.
It turns out that most of the money doesn't even reach Haiti's communities, but goes into the hands of the rich and powerful so that they can help Haiti spend it "correctly." With this whole idea that Haiti is poor, and the reason they are poor is because they are lazy, and because they're extreme poverty can be fixed if they make the decision not to be lazy, they are unable handle money on their own, causes several questionable "charitable" acts that the west cause "aid" or "volunteer" work. It is sad that one of the biggest countries in the world is also the biggest bully. There is no doubt in my mind that of The U.S was to really help with disaster relief, without I'll intentions, they would be able to restore devastated communities.
Why is it that the oppression of smaller countries is a part of U.S's underlying main political tactic? If we are one of the most powerful nations, why do we have to continually keep small countries under our control? It is sad that the U.S. has the ability to truly help with countries who experienced a disaster, but, instead, they use it to further reinforce the stereotypes on people of color, nationally and transnationally. We heard about all of the "pledged" money and the successful fundraisers for the cause of the earthquake in Haiti; so, it seemed as if Haiti had a substantial amount of money to begin the rebuilding process. When nothing began to change, however, people began to ask if Haiti knows what it is doing and if they were truly able to run their own country. People didn't know that it was the U.S. that stopped them from being able to rebuild. Half of the money that was pledged was not actually given. There is a difference between a donation and a pledge. Also, the donations that were received weren't going into the community. It was being used to keep the volunteer foundations running.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
The Big Truck that Went By
When the news broke about the Haitian earthquake in January 2010, there were two things that struck me as odd. First was, if I'm not mistaken, the new technological phenomenon of being able to text the American Red Cross, etc. your $10 donation from your couch and that $10 would be added to your next phone bill. Suspicious, but I'll get to that later. Second was the media announcement that people should not be sending food, water, clothing, or other essential items (things that are essential for human survival), nor should they be trying to travel to Haiti to help. Also suspicious.
Jonathan Katz paints a vivid picture of what it was like to be working as an American journalist in Haiti during the catastrophe. His layout of Haiti's history represents its geographic and topographic location--it's tumultuous. It seems to have the unfortunate legacy of the constant threat of erasure--natural or otherwise. Western powers have forced themselves upon a struggling (to become an) autonomous country, by trying to bleed from it the wealth of resources and cheap human labor. Haiti has served more as a facilitator for Western societies (read: the United States) to grow and develop their wealth and prosperity, while getting nothing but violence and political/economic upheaval and sanctions in return.
I find great irony in the fact that former presidents that levied oppressive economic sanctions and military occupation were the same people who were seen on the ground, "helping" in Haiti in the aftermath of the earthquake. However, in that moment, the United States was seen as the "good guy"--progressive and quick to come to the "aid" of its neighboring country. In the construction of this narrative, the Haitian voices, bodies and lives are erased or ignored. They become a "thing" to be fixed--again reinforcing the image of the white savior. However, just as we saw with the readings from last week, what are NGOs and volunteer organizations and nation-states really doing to help out these areas that are ravaged by political upheaval/violence? We, as Americans, think that because we don't hear about Haiti anymore that somehow Haitians' troubles are over. But, as Katz elucidates, we Americans have done more harm than good.
What we end up seeing is something more or less like a new age or new form of occupation, in which foreign diplomats, former presidents, and NGO workers occupied the disaster site, while living lavishly off of the donations from their home countries. It was disparaging to read about this. While I find it extremely problematic that we Americans figure that we can fix anything by throwing money at it, people were expecting that their funds would be going to help people. (This obviously doesn't absolve us Americans of the detached forms of charity that we conduct.) Reading about this made me recall a news clip after the Newtown, CT shootings that showed the outpouring of material donations that could fill a large classroom, floor to ceiling. The rhetoric that was spun was that it was almost a bad thing that people were sending so much stuff. This was the similar rhetoric that I referred to at the beginning of my post. "Don't send staple supplies and clothing--those things are of no use here."
What the US and friends' occupation after the earthquake amounted to was nothing more than another occupation. Rather than "fixing" the country and reorganizing the government institutions and economic structure (as the story goes), occupation leaves the country in deeper turmoil and reinforces structural violence. This recent occupation is casted as a relief and rebuilding effort, but as Katz shows, it ended up causing deeper problems for Haiti when they left.
Jonathan Katz paints a vivid picture of what it was like to be working as an American journalist in Haiti during the catastrophe. His layout of Haiti's history represents its geographic and topographic location--it's tumultuous. It seems to have the unfortunate legacy of the constant threat of erasure--natural or otherwise. Western powers have forced themselves upon a struggling (to become an) autonomous country, by trying to bleed from it the wealth of resources and cheap human labor. Haiti has served more as a facilitator for Western societies (read: the United States) to grow and develop their wealth and prosperity, while getting nothing but violence and political/economic upheaval and sanctions in return.
I find great irony in the fact that former presidents that levied oppressive economic sanctions and military occupation were the same people who were seen on the ground, "helping" in Haiti in the aftermath of the earthquake. However, in that moment, the United States was seen as the "good guy"--progressive and quick to come to the "aid" of its neighboring country. In the construction of this narrative, the Haitian voices, bodies and lives are erased or ignored. They become a "thing" to be fixed--again reinforcing the image of the white savior. However, just as we saw with the readings from last week, what are NGOs and volunteer organizations and nation-states really doing to help out these areas that are ravaged by political upheaval/violence? We, as Americans, think that because we don't hear about Haiti anymore that somehow Haitians' troubles are over. But, as Katz elucidates, we Americans have done more harm than good.
What we end up seeing is something more or less like a new age or new form of occupation, in which foreign diplomats, former presidents, and NGO workers occupied the disaster site, while living lavishly off of the donations from their home countries. It was disparaging to read about this. While I find it extremely problematic that we Americans figure that we can fix anything by throwing money at it, people were expecting that their funds would be going to help people. (This obviously doesn't absolve us Americans of the detached forms of charity that we conduct.) Reading about this made me recall a news clip after the Newtown, CT shootings that showed the outpouring of material donations that could fill a large classroom, floor to ceiling. The rhetoric that was spun was that it was almost a bad thing that people were sending so much stuff. This was the similar rhetoric that I referred to at the beginning of my post. "Don't send staple supplies and clothing--those things are of no use here."
What the US and friends' occupation after the earthquake amounted to was nothing more than another occupation. Rather than "fixing" the country and reorganizing the government institutions and economic structure (as the story goes), occupation leaves the country in deeper turmoil and reinforces structural violence. This recent occupation is casted as a relief and rebuilding effort, but as Katz shows, it ended up causing deeper problems for Haiti when they left.
Disaster Politics
Catastrophes like the earthquake in Haiti make incomparably interesting case studies, for reasons Katz picks up on throughout his book. The effects of and responses to a disaster "came down to one's means, which were inevitably bound up with family status, nationality and race...But this time, great government ministries and posh hotels had crumbled alongside the meanest cinder-block homes...Whether you had been in Haiti for fifty years or an hour, whether you were in the most broken-down slum or the best hotel, survival came down to the strength and flexibility of the columns, ceilings, and walls surrounding you at the instant the fault gave way," (55). There's an interesting disparity between this assertion that the earthquake in Haiti did not discriminate against its victims and the reality of how different victims survived, or didn't. This is not a unique assertion though. Katz claims that earthquakes are particular because there's no warning before they come, and anyone's house can fall. It's a common claim in any natural disaster, including those which do have warnings such as hurricanes, that nature doesn't discriminate; that part comes in the response and recovery. Katz recognized that how you fared after the earthquake depended on whether you were a blan or a neg. At the same time, he deals with the common idea that in disasters, natural or not, victims are forced to show their true natures in the face of survival. It's a similar logic to the leveling effects of the disaster itself, a mythology that we've adhered to since Noah's ark.
The Big Truck That Went By contributes to the dismantling of that myth by exposing the flaws and failures of the international aid regime. But the truth is that disasters don't expose the true nature of everyday people, they expose the nature of the world we live in and how it works when lives are on the line. I found it helpful as I read to compare The Big Truck That Went By to hurricane Katrina, a comparison that is not lost on Katz either. The comparison he makes is regarding the misperceptions about looting with which we are familiar after reading Social Death. I was more struck by the resemblances between the two on a larger scale. New Orleanians were warned that the hurricane was going to hit, but that did little to predict how it would affect the city. The population of New Orleans is not split into blan and neg in same way Haiti is, but the relief was still split and ineffective in almost the exact same way. New Orleans and Haiti are different places with different kinds of people of course, New Orleans lacking the foreign/native division that Haiti has, but that doesn't seem to matter much when you're dealing with black and white, rich and poor bodies. Katz spoke with some Haitians after the earthquake who felt that they would be better off if Haiti was part of the United States, if they were in charge and had preexisting channels through which to distribute aid more quickly. Katrina showed, years before the earthquake hit, how wrong they were. In my opinion, a transnational feminist investigation to these disasters and what they expose would take a close look at what disaster response worldwide has in common, and who it consistently affects. Perhaps great disasters can be revelatory.
The Big Truck That Went By contributes to the dismantling of that myth by exposing the flaws and failures of the international aid regime. But the truth is that disasters don't expose the true nature of everyday people, they expose the nature of the world we live in and how it works when lives are on the line. I found it helpful as I read to compare The Big Truck That Went By to hurricane Katrina, a comparison that is not lost on Katz either. The comparison he makes is regarding the misperceptions about looting with which we are familiar after reading Social Death. I was more struck by the resemblances between the two on a larger scale. New Orleanians were warned that the hurricane was going to hit, but that did little to predict how it would affect the city. The population of New Orleans is not split into blan and neg in same way Haiti is, but the relief was still split and ineffective in almost the exact same way. New Orleans and Haiti are different places with different kinds of people of course, New Orleans lacking the foreign/native division that Haiti has, but that doesn't seem to matter much when you're dealing with black and white, rich and poor bodies. Katz spoke with some Haitians after the earthquake who felt that they would be better off if Haiti was part of the United States, if they were in charge and had preexisting channels through which to distribute aid more quickly. Katrina showed, years before the earthquake hit, how wrong they were. In my opinion, a transnational feminist investigation to these disasters and what they expose would take a close look at what disaster response worldwide has in common, and who it consistently affects. Perhaps great disasters can be revelatory.
Katz/Farmer
Both of Katz and Farmer's work really tear at your heartstrings. Often times reading Katz work I had to stop and take a break from the stories and statistics, must be nice for me to be able to take a break, unlike those living those stories and statistics. Both Katz and Farmer present the hardships of the people of Haiti, through the stories they have experienced and stories as told by friends. Through these stories, I as a reader am able to grasp what sort of turmoil Haitians are going through on a day to day basis because of the people of the United States.
I say that Haitians are suffering because of the American because of Katz numerous stories of rescue workers putting forth the effort to the people of Haiti after the earthquake but in a way that tremendously frustrating for a reader. I wanted to yell at the book, why is no one going to the rural areas of Haiti, why are rescuers only helping the guest in the hotels, non citizens of Haiti. Farmer writes, "When in 1991 international health and population experts devised a "human suffering index" by examining several examples of human welfare ranging from life expectancy to political freedom, 27 of 141 countries were characterized by "extreme human suffering" (369). Extreme human suffering seems to be happening at the hands of the American people. We sit here and can donate money that accumulates to millions of dollars, but in reality have no idea where that money actually goes.
Katz also mentioned numerous times that government people were constantly worried about social unrest. Katz writes, "The aid response's greatest concern after the quake was social unrest. But the episode was a reminder that the threat came not from some instinctive panic, but the age-old machinations of political struggle" (Katz 159). In great crisis the people of the place affected look to the people in charge. After the tornado in Tuscaloosa a few years ago, students looked to the administration for help, while the citizens of Tuscaloosa looked to their mayor and higher. The city of Tuscaloosa answered by cleaning up and making the areas affected by the tornado better but also impossible for those who once lived their to return. With plans to totally redo the parts destroyed by the disaster, also came plans to "clean up" the once problem areas. So for officials of Tuscaloosa, this was their way to wipe out any problems once had in some of the areas.
While this may not be the exact situation in Haiti, it is sad to see that Katz heard people talk about dropping an atomic bomb on Haiti to just start over. Katz explained that people who had been working in the country for awhile didn't think this idea was that bad, out of frustration and hardship. I don't know the solution to the problem of something like this but I do know, just as we talked about last week, that now that I have this information, I have a duty to spread the knowledge and educate people on these problems.
I say that Haitians are suffering because of the American because of Katz numerous stories of rescue workers putting forth the effort to the people of Haiti after the earthquake but in a way that tremendously frustrating for a reader. I wanted to yell at the book, why is no one going to the rural areas of Haiti, why are rescuers only helping the guest in the hotels, non citizens of Haiti. Farmer writes, "When in 1991 international health and population experts devised a "human suffering index" by examining several examples of human welfare ranging from life expectancy to political freedom, 27 of 141 countries were characterized by "extreme human suffering" (369). Extreme human suffering seems to be happening at the hands of the American people. We sit here and can donate money that accumulates to millions of dollars, but in reality have no idea where that money actually goes.
Katz also mentioned numerous times that government people were constantly worried about social unrest. Katz writes, "The aid response's greatest concern after the quake was social unrest. But the episode was a reminder that the threat came not from some instinctive panic, but the age-old machinations of political struggle" (Katz 159). In great crisis the people of the place affected look to the people in charge. After the tornado in Tuscaloosa a few years ago, students looked to the administration for help, while the citizens of Tuscaloosa looked to their mayor and higher. The city of Tuscaloosa answered by cleaning up and making the areas affected by the tornado better but also impossible for those who once lived their to return. With plans to totally redo the parts destroyed by the disaster, also came plans to "clean up" the once problem areas. So for officials of Tuscaloosa, this was their way to wipe out any problems once had in some of the areas.
While this may not be the exact situation in Haiti, it is sad to see that Katz heard people talk about dropping an atomic bomb on Haiti to just start over. Katz explained that people who had been working in the country for awhile didn't think this idea was that bad, out of frustration and hardship. I don't know the solution to the problem of something like this but I do know, just as we talked about last week, that now that I have this information, I have a duty to spread the knowledge and educate people on these problems.
Response
The attempts to
send aid to Haiti sound like a confused, misguided mess. In some ways, the
recovery efforts were an even bigger disaster than the earthquake itself. Katz’s
observations while in Haiti combined with the background he gives, further illustrates
the point made in last week’s reading: aid and human rights work is a business.
The fact that so many countries were able to pledge billions of dollars, that
people in the U.S. were able to send money “for Haiti”, that celebrities were
involved in the fundraising process, and yet very little of the promised/raised
money seems to have actually needed it—and to whom it was promised. It wasn’t
even given directly to the Haitian government because they weren’t trusted to
handle it correctly. Fears about Haitian officials’ “corruption” is the reason
given, but are they really more corrupt than other government officials, or is
it just a perception? Katz seems to be saying it’s just a perception, and why
does that perception exist? How much of it is about race and class? Katz points
out that large sums of money were spent in the U.S., and still more went to
just keeping NGOs running. Wouldn’t it make sense to just eliminate the NGOs completely,
since giving aid money directly to the government reduces waste and gets things
done faster?
No-one in Haiti, aside from American
celebrities, journalists, or government officials, seems to have been taken
seriously at all. Rather than trying to find representatives for Haiti from
within the country itself, to let Haitians speak for themselves, coverage of
the relief efforts was dominated by people like Sean Penn and Bill Clinton. While
they may have had good intentions, doesn’t focusing on them reinforce the image
of Haiti as a country and Haitians as people who need help, as being incapable
of thinking for it/themselves. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it, but it
certainly seems that way. If Haiti wasn’t generally thought of as a country in
need of help anyway, would so much money have been pledged so quickly? If a
disaster of that magnitude had hit a Western/First World country, would the
response have been the same? And if it had, would the pledged money actually
have gotten to where it needed to go, and would the people of that country
actually have been consulted about their needs/priorities? And would long-term
rebuilding efforts that benefited the country itself more than other, wealthier
countries have been implemented?
Where does trans-national feminism
fit into this story? Is it going back to Mohanty’s discussion of the Third
World Woman? Women occupy a very small space in Katz’s book, but his goal was
to give an overall picture of the relief effort and how it went wrong. And yet,
I think that could have been done with a broader focus. How did the earthquake
and its aftermath affect women differently? How did gendered expectations play
a role? Aid workers aren’t tourists, but there’s a similarity between them
because both arrive with their expectations already in place. Yes, aid was
needed, but how were the attitudes and expectations of aid workers influenced
by already seeing Haiti was a place that needed help long before the earthquake?
Katz and Farmer
Even in the wake of catastrophe, when human beings are expected to display their most empathetic attitudes, social and monetary hierarchies will always take precedence over those who have suffered the most extensive loss. This is the stark reality presented in Katz’s and Farmer’s texts. Katz’s vivid description of the devastation wrought by the earthquake evokes a palpable sense of dread and hopelessness, exacerbated by the prior knowledge that this disaster will be commodified in the same way as so many others have been. In many cases, we can predict how the situation will turn out before it even begins. This point of view brought to mind the work of Lori Allen which we studied last week, in terms of her analysis of the truth behind NGOs and other aid organizations. As Katz points out in the very beginning of the text, specifically on page 3, if nothing else he intends for his audience to ask themselves, in whose hands did the donations actually end up?
Katz offers up the following observation on page 95: “The major aid groups had spent very little of the emergency money they had raised, but people overseas were still pumping in more at the behest of celebrities and CNN.” His description of celebrity endorsement and the quotes he includes by George Clooney reek of paternalistic attitudes. The narrative of the white savior makes an appearance here, implying that the only way for Americans to quell their guilt is to donate to these organizations (which non-coincidentally happen to also raise the power and status of those who already have plenty of it). Additionally, I was floored by the pre-earthquake “nuclear bomb rebuilding joke” Katz describes at the start of chapter six regarding the attitudes of foreigners who had spent some time residing in Haiti. How sincere can the motivations of these Western individuals actually be in the wake of a crisis? Overall, Katz reveals throughout the text that the misguided intentions of those who came to “save Haiti” ultimately prevail over any false pretense of helpfulness.
Farmer’s stories featuring Acephie and Chouchou are specific examples of broader issues resulting from what Farmer describes as “emblematic suffering”. He analyzes that “the ‘exoticization’ of suffering as lurid as that endured by Acephie and Chouchou distances it. The suffering of individuals whose lives and struggles recall our own tends to move us” (377). This phenomenon is specifically relevant not only to Katz’s analysis of the disaster in Haiti, but in how Western society attempts to distance itself from the idea of structural violence on a daily basis. When considering the intersectionality of violence, Farmer calls for “more honest discussions of who is likely to suffer and in what ways.” (383)
"Us" vs. "Them"
Within the first couple of chapters of The Big Truck that Went By, Katz gave
three terms that conceptualized the significance of the book; Blan which means foreigner, Neg the opposite of Blan, and kleptocrat
which can be defined as a ruler who uses political power to steal his or her
country’s resources. As I continued reading, I couldn’t help but wonder why the
text fomented such a visceral reaction inside of me. It wasn’t until I finished
reading that I understood why.
The “relief” efforts in post-quake Haiti perpetuated a narrative of us vs. them, blan vs. neg, diplomat vs. kleptocrat, or any dichotomous model reflecting “good” and “bad”. Just being an American placed me on the “good” side, and if you’re negligent in interrogating what that really entails, some would say that should be enough. Why? Because as Americans we did our part to help our poor and pitiful Haitian neighbors. The neighbors who just can’t seem to catch a break with their corrupt government and all. The neighbors who always need rescuing because they are susceptible to natural disasters. The AIDS infested neighbors who can’t remember to wear condoms long enough to prevent killing each other off with sexually transmitted diseases. The neighbors who continue to populate without the resources to take care of themselves. Those discinct Haitians who continue worshiping the devil with their voodoo and witchcraft despite it being the reason the earthquake occurred in the first place, at least according to Pat Robertson. Sure, with just a simple text to the red cross, or a donation to a celebrity telethon, I as an American am now absolved from any guilt that I had watching the aftermath of the travesty in Haiti because I did my part. Besides, why should I care? The government stepped in and took care of it like they usually do. Hell, American NGOs raised over 2.5 billion dollars in aid alone, so that should be more than enough. Not to mention the U.S. government contracted over 1 billion dollars to help rebuild the impoverished country.
Unfortunately, these are the sentiments a lot of Americans shared whether they have the balls to admit it or not. As a matter of fact, once it could no longer be classified as “news”, many of us forgot, and never followed up. I’m sure we would be surprised to know that in addition to having inadequate living spaces, sanitation and food, the Haitian population suffered immensely from a cholera outbreak. A disease brought to Haiti by Nepalese UN peacekeepers. A disease no one wanted to be held accountable for despite the evidence presented. Or that a lot of the money pledged to help Haiti never left any of its donor states. Or that even though there were people who were sleeping in the streets next to dead bodies, and camps filled with debilitated elderly women and children, the diplomats, former presidents and ambassadors were in luxury hotels outside of Haiti. Despite the narrative America intended to perpetuate in regards to rebuilding Haiti, what was really being conveyed is that impoverished Haitians don’t matter. This is why we don’t trust them with money, and this is why they don’t deserve to live. We know what’s best for them, and what’s best for them is to allow others to make the decisions for them, even when it is at their expense. We won’t acknowledge the structural violence they endure on the regular basis, nor do we care, because after all “we” are on the good side. “We” are the competent Americans, with a thriving political system, and “they” are the contemptible people with a corrupt government. We are “blans” and they are “negs”, and unfortunately the “negs” are never on the “good” side.
The “relief” efforts in post-quake Haiti perpetuated a narrative of us vs. them, blan vs. neg, diplomat vs. kleptocrat, or any dichotomous model reflecting “good” and “bad”. Just being an American placed me on the “good” side, and if you’re negligent in interrogating what that really entails, some would say that should be enough. Why? Because as Americans we did our part to help our poor and pitiful Haitian neighbors. The neighbors who just can’t seem to catch a break with their corrupt government and all. The neighbors who always need rescuing because they are susceptible to natural disasters. The AIDS infested neighbors who can’t remember to wear condoms long enough to prevent killing each other off with sexually transmitted diseases. The neighbors who continue to populate without the resources to take care of themselves. Those discinct Haitians who continue worshiping the devil with their voodoo and witchcraft despite it being the reason the earthquake occurred in the first place, at least according to Pat Robertson. Sure, with just a simple text to the red cross, or a donation to a celebrity telethon, I as an American am now absolved from any guilt that I had watching the aftermath of the travesty in Haiti because I did my part. Besides, why should I care? The government stepped in and took care of it like they usually do. Hell, American NGOs raised over 2.5 billion dollars in aid alone, so that should be more than enough. Not to mention the U.S. government contracted over 1 billion dollars to help rebuild the impoverished country.
Unfortunately, these are the sentiments a lot of Americans shared whether they have the balls to admit it or not. As a matter of fact, once it could no longer be classified as “news”, many of us forgot, and never followed up. I’m sure we would be surprised to know that in addition to having inadequate living spaces, sanitation and food, the Haitian population suffered immensely from a cholera outbreak. A disease brought to Haiti by Nepalese UN peacekeepers. A disease no one wanted to be held accountable for despite the evidence presented. Or that a lot of the money pledged to help Haiti never left any of its donor states. Or that even though there were people who were sleeping in the streets next to dead bodies, and camps filled with debilitated elderly women and children, the diplomats, former presidents and ambassadors were in luxury hotels outside of Haiti. Despite the narrative America intended to perpetuate in regards to rebuilding Haiti, what was really being conveyed is that impoverished Haitians don’t matter. This is why we don’t trust them with money, and this is why they don’t deserve to live. We know what’s best for them, and what’s best for them is to allow others to make the decisions for them, even when it is at their expense. We won’t acknowledge the structural violence they endure on the regular basis, nor do we care, because after all “we” are on the good side. “We” are the competent Americans, with a thriving political system, and “they” are the contemptible people with a corrupt government. We are “blans” and they are “negs”, and unfortunately the “negs” are never on the “good” side.
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