[DEBATE] : Structural processes behind SA AIDS policy
Patrick Bond
pbond at mail.ngo.za
Fri May 16 05:57:26 BST 2008
The structural forces behind Mbeki's AIDS policy
Patrick Bond (2008-05-13)
http://www.pambazuka.org/en/category/comment/48049
In response to the recent extract from William Gumede's book "Thabo
Mbeki and the Battle for the Soul of the ANC" published by Zed Books
(http://zedbooks.co.uk), Patrick Bond suggests that there is a need to
go beyond the individual reasons and look at the structural forces that
have informed Mbeki's AIDS policy such as international and domestic
financial markets, pharmaceutical manufacturers and a large reserve army
of labour.
With millions of South Africans dying early because of AIDS, the battle
against the disease would become one of the most crucial tests of the
post-apartheid government. Its systematic failure to address AIDS, and
especially its ongoing sabotage of medicinal treatment for HIV+
patients, led to periodic charges of ‘genocide’ by authoritative figures
such as the heads of the Medical Research Council (Malegapuru William
Makgoba), SA Medical Association (Kgosi Letlape), and Pan Africanist
Congress health desk (Costa Gazi), as well as leading public
intellectual Sipho Seepe.
Aside from Mbeki, Pretoria’s main saboteurs were health minister Manto
Tshabalala-Msimang and trade minister Erwin; the latter two were accused
by the Treatment Action Campaign (TAC) of culpable homicide during a
March 2003 civil disobedience campaign. Even in the weeks before the
2004 election, Mbeki and Tshabalala-Msimang continued to practice
denialism, obfuscation, delays, bureaucratic manoeuvres, and withdrawal
of resources for treatment. Educational campaigns like LoveLife’s were
based upon fatuous marketing to hip-hop youth, and there was virtually
nothing done to combat domestic violence, rape, multiple partners and
patriarchy. Across Africa more generally, the ‘ABCs’ of abstinence,
being loyal and condoms were particularly ineffectual within the
confines of male-dominated marriage, leading to the tragedy that young
women’s infection rate was twice as high as that of men.[1]
A great deal has been written about Pretoria’s malfeasance.[2] The point
of revisiting it here while documenting South Africa’s elite transition
is to provide a structural explanation for the crisis. Beyond the
oft-cited peculiarities of the president himself, there are three deeper
reasons why local and global power relationships mean that the battle
against AIDS has to date mainly been lost.[3]
One reason is the pressure exerted by international and domestic
financial markets to keep Pretoria’s state budget deficit to three per
cent of GDP. Recall the telling remark of the late Parks Mankahlana,
Mbeki’s main spokesperson, who in March 2000 justified to Science
magazine why the government refused to provide relatively inexpensive
antiretrovirals (ARVs) like Nevirapine to pregnant, HIV-positive women:
‘That mother is going to die and that HIV-negative child will be an
orphan. That child must be brought up. Who is going to bring the child
up? It’s the state, the state. That’s resources, you see.’[4] Instead of
saving lives, Mbeki’s finance ministry adopted higher priorities:
slashing corporate taxes, redeploying state resources to purchase
high-tech arms, and repaying roughly $25 billion of apartheid-era
foreign debt and a bit more in apartheid domestic debt, which could have
been declared ‘odious’ in legal terms. Local and international bankers
generally approved such examples of fiscal laxity, in contrast to
expanding state health spending and other social budgets, which they
have explicitly not supported.
The second structural reason is the residual power of pharmaceutical
manufacturers to defend their rights to ‘intellectual property’, i.e.
monopoly patents on life-saving medicines. This pressure did not end in
April 2001 when the Pharmaceutical Manufacturers Association withdrew
their notorious lawsuit against the South African Medicines Act of 1997.
That Act allows for parallel import or local production, via ‘compulsory
licences’, of generic substitutes for brand-name antiretroviral
medicines. Big Pharma’s power was felt in the debate over essential
drugs for public health emergencies at the November 2001 Doha World
Trade Organisation summit, and ever since.
The third structural reason for the ongoing HIV/AIDS holocaust in South
Africa is the vast size of the reserve army of labour, for this feature
of capitalism allows companies to replace sick workers with desperate,
unemployed people instead of providing them with treatment. The latter
point deserves elaboration, simply because so many lives are at
immediate risk, and so much evidence has mounted that corporate South
Africa’s preferred approach has been, in essence, mass murder by denial
of medical benefits.
This was the initial conclusion reached after a year of study at
Africa’s largest company, Anglo American Corporation. Anglo has 160,000
employees, of whom 21 per cent are estimated to be HIV-positive. Once
Big Pharma appeared to retreat from its lawsuit, the company announced
that it would provide antiretroviral medicines to its workforce, which
meant literally tens of thousands of lives might be saved in the short
term. But in June 2001, the Financial Times reported on Anglo’s ‘plans
to make special payments to miners suffering from HIV/AIDS, on condition
they take voluntary retirement.’ However, in addition to bribing workers
to go home and die, Anglo told the Financial Times, ‘treatment of
employees with antiretrovirals can be cheaper than the costs incurred by
leaving them untreated.’ In August, Anglo’s vice president for medicine,
Brian Brink, bragged in Business Day about a ‘strategy [which] involved
offering wellness programmes, including access to antiretroviral
treatment.’ According to that report, ‘The company believed that the
cost of its programmes would eventually be outweighed by the benefits
its received in gradual gains in productivity, [Brink] concluded.
Although it was indeed a risky strategy, it was the only one Anglo could
pursue in the face of such human suffering.’
Then in October 2001, Anglo simply retracted its promise, once
cost-benefit analysis showed that 146,000 workers just weren’t worth
saving. According to the Financial Times, Brink ‘said the company’s
14,000 senior staff would receive antiretroviral treatment as part of
their medical insurance, but that the provision of drug treatment for
lower income employees was too expensive.’ Brink explained the criteria
for the fatal analysis: ‘[Antiretrovirals] could save on absenteeism and
improved productivity. The saving you achieve can be substantial, but we
really don’t know how it will stack up. We feel that the cost will be
greater than the saving.’ As the Wall Street Journal recorded:
‘In a controversial move that could have wide ramifications for how
companies in poor countries handle AIDS, mining giant Anglo American PLC
has put on hold a feasibility study to provide AIDS drugs to its African
work force, according to people familiar with the situation. When it
disclosed its plans for the study a year ago, Anglo garnered wide praise
because it was one of the first major corporations to reveal measures
aimed at treating AIDS cases among its rank and file African employees.’[5]
A few months later Anglo changed its mind once again, as AIDS ravaged
the middle layer of the workforce, and the multi-class TAC raised
consciousness sufficiently high as to get trades union support for
members’ treatment. Indeed, in the cases of both Anglo and Coca Cola,
the other factor that appeared in 2002 was the spectre of consumer
protest over the firms’ refusal to treat employees. I was reliably
informed by insiders that for Anglo, the prospect of demonstrators at
the August 2002 World Summit on Sustainable Development dragging up many
other bits of dirty laundry intimidated the company’s executives into
taking pre-emptive action on the AIDS front. Coke’s main bottler in
South Africa had also failed to insure two-thirds of its 4,000-strong
workforce at a sufficient level to allow the HIV-positive workers access
to ARVs, and was subject to international protest over African AIDS
policies.
However, even though the costs of HIV/AIDS - absenteeism, declining
productivity, payouts for early death - soared to as high as 25 per cent
of payroll by 2003, according to the Financial Times, most employers are
still hesitant to provide ARVs:
‘Untreated, HIV typically takes four to five years to manifest itself as
full-blown AIDS, and companies are reluctant to pay for a risk that they
cannot see… Persuading managers to part with fees [AIDS treatment
programmes] today for costs that will hit company earnings years down
the line has been a hard sell.’[6]
In sum, no matter the effectiveness of activism against government, Big
Pharma and the corporate employers, all three structural factors are
still deterrents to the provision of treatment. By late 2003, each was
slightly mitigated, however, and that led to an ostensible change of
policy by Pretoria. The budget deficit was projected to climb from just
over one per cent of GDP during the early 2000s to nearly three per cent
in 2004-05, allowing extra leeway for AIDS spending. Pharmacorps were
cooperating more closely with the World Health Organisation, the Global
Fund, the Clinton Foundation and governments to lower prices for Africa.
Canada’s former prime minister Jean Chretien - spurred by the dynamic,
outspoken UN advisor Stephen Lewis - even introduced path-breaking
legislation to promote generics (although a sabotage clause was later
included in the draft law to support patent rights, in turn attracting a
new round of solidarity protests). And employers began waking up, in
part because of the dramatic rise of AIDS-related disability claims as a
percentage of all disability claims, from 18 per cent in 2001 to 31 per
cent in 2002.
These factors converged in a November 2003 cabinet statement, finally
endorsing a roll-out of antiretrovirals. Pretoria cited factors which
included:
‘a fall in the prices of drugs over the past two years…new medicines and
international and local experience in managing the utilisation of ARVs…
[sufficient] health workers and scientists with skills and
understanding… and the availability of fiscal resources to expand social
expenditure in general, as a consequence of the prudent macro economic
policies pursued by government.’
However, these factors were minor compared to intensive activist
pressure, which Pretoria did not dare mention lest it encourage further
protests. TAC’s victory statement was explicit: ‘The combination of the
Constitutional Court decision on mother to child transmission
prevention, the Stand Up for Our Lives march [of 15,000 people on
parliament] in February, the civil disobedience campaign and the
international protests around the world have convinced Cabinet to
develop and implement an ARV roll-out plan.’
Another factor, of course, was the 2004 presidential election, which
Mbeki would win easily but which would be characterised by high levels
of apathy and no-vote campaigning by the Landless Peoples Movement. An
AC Nielsen survey in November 2003 confirmed that Mbeki’s AIDS policy
was hurting the chances of the ruling African National Congress of
turning out the vote. The cabinet statement promised that ‘within a
year, there will be at least one service point in every health district
across the country and, within five years, one service point in every
local municipality.’ In addition to medicines, the state would provide
an education and community mobilisation programme, promotion of good
nutrition and traditional health treatments such as herbal remedies,
support for families affected by HIV and AIDS, and funds for upgrading
health infrastructure. The health system was already massively
overextended, with far too few essential medicines, much less ARVs,
available in South Africa’s under-funded rural clinics.
As TAC was the first to concede, ARV availability could generate
negative unintended consequences. One would be non-compliance with
treatment regimes by poor people, and the concomitant emergence of
drug-resistant strains. Another would be the black market smuggling of
cheap drugs to Europe and North America which would reduce access in
Africa. Another would be that, although stigmatisation would decline
given the availability of hope-giving drugs, so too might the practice
of safe sex. These would remain major challenges to TAC and other
health-sector groups, although the Khayelitsha operation of Médecins
Sans Frontières was already proving high levels of treatment compliance.
Moreover, the conflict between neo-liberalism and life, so explicit in
the case of access to AIDS medicines, was severely compounded by
patriarchy, traditional and modern sexual practices such as multiple
partners for men, and domestic violence against women. Rape continued at
scandalous levels.
But the primary contradiction involved the regime in Pretoria. In
February 2004, TAC attacked President Thabo Mbeki in the wake of more
government prevarication on AIDS treatment.[7] Claiming that Mbeki
‘misrepresented facts and once again caused confusion on HIV/AIDS’ on
national television, TAC’s Zackie Achmat accused him of ‘denialism.’
Moreover, Pretoria had originally promised to distribute AIDS medicines
to at least 50,000 people within a year, and to reach everyone in need
of treatment within five years. Tshabalala-Msimang blamed slow drug
procurement – Pretoria’s own fault – and the lack of qualified health
personnel. TAC strategist Mark Heywood commented, ‘Many hospitals have
the capacity, they just don’t have the medicines.’ The finance ministry
also cut the budget dramatically for medicine purchases in February 2004.
At the same time, Tshabalala-Msimang suggested that while HIV-positive
people waited for medicines, a diet of lemons, beetroot, (extremely
expensive), olive oil and garlic would improve the body’s immune system.
A week earlier, the minister had come under fire by the SA Medical
Association, whose chairperson Dr Kgosi Letlape accused her of ‘dividing
the profession when we have gone to great lengths to unite it.’ The
minister unsuccessfully attempted to halt a protest march of 2,000
medics against poor conditions in public health facilities by implying
that the demonstrating doctors were white, whereas black medics
supported the government.
Mbeki continued supporting his minister, no matter how outrageous this
became. He told the SA Broadcasting Corporation on 8 February 2004 that
the major problem was inaccurate mortality statistics, which made it
impossible to know whether AIDS was as fatal as claimed. According to
Mbeki, his doctors informed him that diabetes is also an epidemic, and
he questioned why no-one talks about diabetes. Achmat replied:
‘Drugs for treating diabetes are heavily overpriced; there should be a
campaign for their reduction. But unlike HIV until November 2003,
diabetes is treated in the public health sector. However, the President
should be aware that according to an initial investigation into the
burden of disease estimates in South Africa released in 2003 by the
Medical Research Council, AIDS was responsible for 39 per cent of lost
life-years in 2000 - more than the next 10 worst diseases. Diabetes is
the 12th worst disease and is responsible for slightly more than one per
cent of lost life-years. The two diseases are incomparable in scale.’
Achmat also ridiculed Mbeki’s claim that ‘few countries can hold a
candle to South Africa’s HIV/AIDS programme.’ Achmat replied:
‘A number of developing countries do much better than South Africa when
it comes to HIV prevention and treatment, often with far fewer
resources. Currently, South Africa treats approximately 1,500 people in
its public sector, who are not on drug trials, paying for their own
medicines or being sponsored. By contrast, Brazil’s government treats
over 100,000 people and has less than a quarter of South Africa’s HIV
infections. Botswana is treating approximately 15,000 and Cameroon
approximately 7,000 people.’
In March 2004 the need to harass Pretoria to ensure roll-out was
confirmed again, when TAC was forced to threaten an urgent court
interdict in order to permit the urgent acquisition of antiretroviral
medicines consistent with the November 2003 cabinet decision.
Tshabalala-Msimang was sufficiently threatened by yet more embarrassing
court proceedings that she finally agreed, just before a deadline
provided by TAC lawyers. TAC declared victory, though remarked that ‘by
implementing the interim procurement mechanism and thereby avoiding a
three-month delay of the treatment programme, approximately 6,000 excess
deaths could be avoided.’ [8]
What is the way forward, given persistent presidential denial, state
bureaucratic sabotage, and structural factors that mitigate against
access to treatment? One major stumbling block would probably emerge in
subsequent months and years: the nature of political alliances within
South African politics. TAC had been effective in attracting support
from the most forward-looking trades unions, the SA Communist Party,
churches, NGO activists and technical supporters (lawyers, health
workers, academics, journalists). Yet these alliances did not stray far
from the ANC. Would TAC forge sufficient linkages to non-ANC
communities, especially those devoted to building the new independent
left? In coming years, would the myriad of problems that cause
opportunistic infections, especially dirty water and air (thanks to
coal/wood/paraffin), also be addressed? At a time that the South African
government was disconnecting water and electricity at a lethal rate,
alongside evictions for those who could not afford expensive rental and
mortgage bond payments, the need to address the links between AIDS and
the diseases of poverty/homelessness was obvious.
Moreover, would TAC and its allies make the case that access to ARVs is
a human right and that people should not pay user-fees or partial
cost-recovery for the medicines? By 2004 they were taking this position,
but only in the event that people were too poor to pay for medicines.
Yet means-testing of black South Africans with irregular informal
incomes is notoriously difficult. In contrast, a more explicit ‘free
lifeline’ strategy would parallel the demands of the water and
electricity campaigners.
Nevertheless, whether or not TAC continues to tackle the three
structural impediments to ARV access – neo-liberal fiscal policy,
pharmacorps and corporate control of health perks - the immediate
victory of November 2003 will potentially make a huge difference. For
the half million South Africans who are symptomatic with AIDS or who
have a CD4 blood count less than 200, there was suddenly hope. Across
the world, for three million people who die each year of AIDS, and for
40 million others infected, the treatment activists and their
international allies deserve a standing ovation.
* Patrick Bond directs the Centre for Civil Society at the University of
KwaZulu-Natal in Durban. This article is an extract from his book 'Elite
Transition: From Apartheid to Neoliberalism in South Africa'.
**Please send comments to editor at pambazuka.org or comment online at
www.pambazuka.org
For additional notes, please follow this link:
1. See the excellent anti-patriarchal arguments in Lewis, S. (2004)
‘Keynote Lecture at the 11th Conference on Retroviruses and
Opportunistic Infections,’ San Francisco, 8 February.
2. One of the best surveys is in Lodge, T. (2002) 'Politics in South
Africa', Cape Town, David Philip.
3. I have earlier made this case in three articles for ZNet commentaries
(http://www.zmag.org), in The International Journal of Health Services
(vol. 29, no. 4, 1999), and in two prior books ('Against Global
Apartheid', Chapters 8 and 9; 'Unsustainable South Africa', Chapter 7).
4. Mail & Guardian, 21 July 2000.
5. Wall Street Journal, 16 April 2002.
6. Financial Times, 18 September 2003.
7. The following quotes are from Treatment Action Campaign (2004),
‘President Mbeki misrepresents facts and once again causes confusion on
HIV/AIDS,’ Cape Town, 11 February.
8. Treatment Action Campaign (2004) ‘TAC electronic newsletter,’ Cape
Town, 25 March.
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