On the second day of George W. Bush's tour of Africa, Miriam Mahlambane sat under a jacaranda tree as the President's motorcade swept through the gates of Pretoria's Union Buildings, a historic complex of government offices perched on a hill overlooking South Africa's capital. The matronly Mahlambane, a witch doctor in a bright print dress, animal skins and strings of clattering beads, threw a cluster of bones, stones and wood onto the ground, then peered at the pattern they made to divine Bush's intentions in coming to this place. "Hau!" she exclaimed. "This man, he is powerful. He brings great strength." Then she frowned. "But his strength will go home with him."
Some Bush critics didn't want him in Africa to begin with; one South African activist went so far as to call him a "weapon of mass destruction." But most people along Bush's five-day, five-country route last week and many who observed from afar hoped to harness his power for the continent's good. The proposals Bush trumpeted, says singer-activist Bono, are "potentially life-changing and life-saving for millions of people." The President's pledges include more than $1 billion for education, food aid, counterterrorism and famine relief. And if Bush's big proposals go through his $15 billion aids plan; his Millennium Challenge Account, rewarding developing nations that commit to human rights and free trade then, says Bono, "we have to be ready to stand up and applaud this President's leadership."
For the 800 million people of Africa, that is a big "if." They will be watching closely to see if his excursion was just a pricey photo op designed to highlight Bush's compassionate side, or a sign that the President truly intends to give sustained attention to Africa's problems AIDS, of course, but also devastating civil wars, gnawing hunger and struggles to build durable democracies, functional civil societies and economies that can create livelihoods for millions of men and women.
If Bush is making that commitment, he would be the first U.S. President to do so. But the time when Africa expected any outsider to sweep in with magical solutions to its problems is long past. The message from both Bush and leaders such as South Africa's Thabo Mbeki was that the U.S. would help, but that Africa would have to save itself and has started to do so, with initiatives such as the African Union, which held its annual summit in Mozambique last week, and the New Partnership for Africa's Development (NEPAD), which is intended to build accountability and sustainable growth.
To some extent, this emphasis on self-help was tactical, to give Bush relief from the pressure to rush U.S. troops to war-riven Liberia. But it was also a recognition of reality. Which is why Bush's African adventure, which began in Senegal last Tuesday and ended in Nigeria on Saturday, was never supposed to be much of an adventure at all no bold surprises, radical statements or grand new promises. Instead, it was meant to highlight places where Africa is working where economies are growing, infection rates declining, democracy taking hold. But the other Africa, the one that isn't working, has a way of making itself felt even at the most well-planned photo op.
Senegal: Racial Healing bush began his journey at an emotionally charged spot: the Door of No Return on Gorée Island, through which millions of African slaves boarded ships that would take them on a hellish months-long journey across the ocean to servitude, if they survived, in the New World. Today, above that cut in the creamy stone, is the inscription: "From this door for a voyage without return." On Gorée, the President made an extraordinary expression of sorrow over slavery, which he called a sin, and racial injustice. "The stolen sons and daughters of Africa helped to awaken the conscience of America," he said. "My nation's journey toward justice has not been easy and it is not over."
The speech, like much else on this trip, built on what Bill Clinton had done on his Africa visit in 1998, but went a little farther, said a little more. National Security Adviser Condoleezza Rice told Black Entertainment Television before the trip that the Gorée visit was a salute to the descendants of slaves, "an opportunity for [Bush] to praise the heritage they have brought to American life." But the point was not only to soften African-American hearts or to reiterate the compassion in Bush's conservatism. There was also a message, if a subtle one, for Africa in his talk, and afterward in a summit with seven freely elected leaders: American slaveholders ultimately could not contain the God-given spirit of liberty. Africans today should not let warlords and dictators try to do the same.
South Africa: Self-Help
What Are Friends For? To put on a brave public face, crack a joke and keep serious disagreements private. So when Mbeki and Bush were asked during a press conference about their "sharp differences" on Zimbabwe, it didn't matter that the American President's pronouncements against Robert Mugabe have been so much more forceful than the South African's. Mbeki said wryly: "I didn't know, President, that we'd expressed sharp differences."
"I've encouraged President Mbeki and his government to continue to work for the return of democracy in that important country," Bush said. In that quiet nudge, less forceful than his previous statements, Zimbabwe's official Herald newspaper heard a "loud climbdown" but it heard wrong. Bush's encouragement came not by putting public pressure on Mugabe via Mbeki but by letting Africans handle their problems their way. Long an advocate of this policy, Mbeki then applied it to the question of Peacekeeping in Liberia.
"We're not saying that this is a burden that just falls on the United States," he said. "It really ought to principally fall on us as Africans." The message of self- reliance was Bush's, too; he cited U.S. training of West African peacekeepers as "a sensible policy," a way of enabling countries to guard their own neighborhoods. But that a leading African said the same reinforces the role the Administration wants in Africa one of active support.
Botswana: Economic Growth
The shopkeeper tittered like a little girl. Bush had just left her Gaborone stall, where she sells silk scarves and alpaca throws. "I was so nervous, but he was so normal, so regular!" she said before offering her best impersonation of a Texan accent.
Her goodwill reflects the buoyant economic mood in Botswana, which has profited from a wealth of diamonds and good governance. A beneficiary of tariff-free exports to the U.S. under the African Growth and Opportunity Act, a Clinton-era program that Bush renewed and expanded, Botswana was Bush's showcase for boosting trade. Under AGOA, Botswana's apparel exports to the U.S. more than doubled last year. Other nations have hiked exports of everything from textiles to wine. President Festus Mogae called AGOA "perhaps the most significant thing that the United States has done for sub-Saharan Africa in recent decades."
But critics note that African exports under AGOA in 2002 totaled just $9 billion, a fraction of the potential trade if U.S. tariffs on commodities such as cotton were abolished. Such breaks would have a powerful continent-wide impact, a point raised repeatedly by the leaders Bush met. And freer trade makes economic sense. "The U.S. should be importing its cotton from Africa," says Kevin Hassett of the American Enterprise Institute. "They're the efficient producers. But where's the political might?" In the U.S., it lies with farmers. The U.S. "is spending between $3 billion and $4 billion a year on cotton subsidies," says Oxfam research chief Kevin Watkins, more than the Kenyan government's entire annual budget.
Bush said he's ready to cut payouts to farmers if others are. "We have proposed a very strong reduction in agricultural subsidies," he said, but "there needs to be reciprocation from Europe and Japan." The African reply: We'll take what we can get, then push for more. AGOA "has expanded trade," says Mohamed Ibn Chambas, executive secretary of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), whose members have benefited relatively little. "You can always find ways it can be improved, but you have to start from somewhere."
Uganda: fighting AIDS
"And crown thy good, with brotherhood, from sea to shining sea." As the young singers all patients at Entebbe's aids Support Organization clinic finished America the Beautiful, Bush moved to shake their small hands. As he talked with them, his eyes teared up. Then his emotion seemed to propel him into the youngsters' midst, arms outstretched for a big group hug.
Though aid for AIDS was a steady drumbeat through the whole Bush tour, Uganda was chosen for an event because it's a success story in the war against HIV. "Uganda, by confronting aids aggressively and directly, is giving hope to peoples all across the continent," Bush said. President Yoweri Museveni's government has slashed the adult rate of HIV infection to about 5% through what one official calls "hand-to-hand combat" using catchy slogans and frank talk to raise aids awareness. Still, more than 600,000 Ugandans are HIV-positive. The disease is spreading, if more slowly, so the campaigns continue. The most recent talks about the A, B, C and D of HIV: Abstain, Change Behavior, Use Condoms or Die.
Administration officials have emphasized repeatedly that Bush's decision to funnel billions of dollars to this cause was not political, but moral. "History will judge us harshly if we don't act," explains communications director Dan Bartlett. "We" includes Congress: as each of the 14 designated countries meets standards for delivery of care, they'll be eligible for funds, but legislators will decide how much of the promised money will actually flow. As much as they appreciate aid, many Africans suggest again that freer trade might be better, if politically tougher for Bush to sell back home, than aid. "We need to make our own money so we can buy our own drugs," says Ugandan diplomat Elizabeth Kanyogonya. "We can't say, 'You gave us $15 billion and now it's run out. Give us more.' We want to break that cycle."
Nigeria: Security
outside the president's Abuja hotel, four Nigerians painted all in white bore slogans on their stomachs: world number 1 welcome, read one. George W. Bush you are welcome. But the crowds that lined the capital's streets as Bush sped past were harder to read. They were some of the biggest of his trip, but most people simply stood motionless.
How does Africa really feel about the U.S.? That question has become more important during the war on terror, as Africa has emerged as a source of possible threats. Even if its Muslims resist radicalization, African countries could become safe havens for terrorists. The more democracies, the more cooperation in battling terror. Bush's last stop, Nigeria, is not only Africa's most populous country and the principal African supplier of U.S. oil, but will also likely be the main contributor to a peacekeeping force for Liberia. It has Africa's biggest Muslim population; in February, Osama bin Laden labeled the country "ripe for liberation."
"The best way to fight terror is to support the habits of freedom," says a senior Administration official, "and that was represented in [Bush's] trip here." Helping to secure Africa means helping to secure America. "A situation like you find in Liberia is what festers and drives people to extremism," says ECOWAS' Chambas, who has pushed for a bigger U.S. role. That kind of extremism, too familiar these days, "ultimately, in this global village, might catch up with ordinary people going about their ordinary business even in America."
Upon arrival in Africa, Bush had said: "Where we see suffering, America will act. Where we find the hungry, we will act." Strong words, but as the President departed, the question was whether he would leave Africa much more than encouraging and at times confessional talk or whether Miriam Mahlambane's prophecy would come true.