My respect for Bono grew over time. He was warm to Laura and the girls. He frequently sent notes of thanks. He is a man of genuine faith. Bono could be edgy, but never in a cynical or political way. When PEPFAR got off to a slow start, he came to see me in the Oval Office. “You’re the measurable results guy,” he said, “so where are the results?” I would have told him, but he wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise. Once the program was up and running, he came back. “I’m sorry I doubted you,” he said. “By the way, do you know the U.S. government is now the world’s largest purchaser of condoms?”
I laughed. Bono had a big heart and a sharp needle. His only motive was his passion for the cause we shared. Laura, Barbara, Jenna, and I consider him a friend.
Not everybody agreed with Bono. Three months after I announced the MCA, I went to the G-8 summit in Kananaskis, Canada. Prime Minister Jean Chrétien raised the topic of foreign aid. I was one of the first to speak. I talked about the results-oriented principles of MCA, a stark departure from the G-8’s tradition of measuring generosity by the percentage of GDP a nation spent on foreign aid.
When I finished, Jacques Chirac leaned over and patted my arm. “George, you are so unilateralist,” he said. Then he unleashed. “How can America insist on tying aid to anti-corruption? After all, the free world created corruption!” He made it clear he thought I didn’t understand the African culture.
It was my first Chirac drive-by. I was not amused. He seemed to be willing to condemn people in the developing world to the status quo of corruption, poverty, and bad governance all because he felt guilty about what nations like France had done in the colonial era.
When the lecture concluded, I raised my hand. Chrétien shook his head. He wanted to give other leaders a chance to speak. But I couldn’t let Chirac’s statement stand. I butted back in: “America did not colonize African nations. America did not create corruption. And America is tired of seeing good money stolen while people continue to suffer. Yes, we are changing our policy, whether you like it or not.”
Chirac had vented. So had I. Most of the other leaders looked shocked. My friend Prime Minister Koizumi of Japan flashed a slight smile and gave me a subtle nod of approval.
Over the next six years, the MCA invested $6.7 billion of seed money with thirty-five partner countries. Lesotho used its MCA compact to upgrade its water supply. Burkina Faso created a reliable system of property rights. Projects like these were catalysts for countries to develop markets that foster private-sector growth, attract foreign capital, and facilitate trade, which was another cornerstone of my development agenda. Free and fair trade benefits the United States by creating new buyers for our products, along with more choices and better prices for our consumers. Trade is also the surest way to help people in the developing world grow their economies and lift themselves out of poverty. According to one study, the benefits of trade are forty times more effective in reducing poverty than foreign aid.
When I took office, America had free trade agreements in place with three countries: Canada, Mexico, and Israel. By the time I left, we had agreements with seventeen, including developing countries such as Jordan, Morocco, Oman, and the young democracies of Central America. To further boost African economies, we worked with G-8 partners to cancel more than $34 billion in debt from poor African countries. The initiative built on the substantial debt relief President Clinton had secured. A report by Bono’s DATA organization concluded that debt relief has allowed African nations to send forty-two million more children to school.
One vital economic initiative was the African Growth and Opportunity Act, which eliminated tariffs on most African exports to the United States. President Clinton signed AGOA; I worked with Congress to expand it. And I saw its impact firsthand when I met entrepreneurs in Ghana who exported their products to the United States. One woman had started a business called Global Mamas. She specialized in helping women artisans find new markets to sell goods such as soaps, baskets, and jewelry. In five years, her company had grown from seven employees to about three hundred. A dressmaker named Esther told me, “I’m helping other women, and I’m helping my family, too.”
In February 2008, Laura and I returned to sub-Saharan Africa. The trip was my second and her fifth. We viewed the visit as a chance to showcase some of Africa’s best leaders, who were serving their people with integrity and tackling problems like poverty, corruption, and disease. Their good example stood in stark contrast to the African leader dominating the headlines, Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe. Mugabe had stifled democracy, subjected his people to hyperinflation, and turned the country from a net food exporter to a net importer. His disgraceful record was proof that one man could ruin a country. I wanted to show the world that good leadership could help a country reach its potential.
Laura and I made five stops on the trip.*** At each, we saw inspiring examples of our new partnerships with Africa. I met schoolchildren in Benin and Liberia who had textbooks, thanks to our Africa Education Initiative. In Rwanda, I signed a bilateral investment treaty that would increase access to financing for Rwandan entrepreneurs. In Ghana, I announced a new initiative to fight neglected tropical diseases like hookworm and snail fever.
Our longest visit was to Tanzania, a nation of forty-two million people on Africa’s east coast. Under the leadership of President Jakaya Kikwete, Tanzania participated in PEPFAR, the Malaria Initiative, and MCA. As Air Force One descended toward Dar es Salaam, I was told I might see a group of Tanzanian women wearing dresses with my photo printed on the cloth. As I walked down the steps of the plane, a cluster of women danced to the festive beat of drums and horns. As one rotated to the music, I saw my photo stretched across her backside.
An interesting fashion statement in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. For some reason these didn’t catch on back home. White House/Chris Greenberg
Like many sub-Saharan African countries, Tanzania’s economy was weakened by the AIDS crisis. President Kikwete was passionate about the fight against disease. He and his wife, Salma, had taken an AIDS test on national television to set a good example for the Tanzanian people. Even more impressive, the Kikwetes adopted an orphan whose parents had died of AIDS.
President Kikwete took us to an HIV/AIDS clinic at the Amana District Hospital, which had opened in 2004 with support from PEPFAR. As the director of the hospital showed us around, Laura and I saw a girl sitting on a bench in the courtyard with her grandmother. She was nine years old and HIV-positive. She had received the virus from her mother, who had died. AIDS had taken her father, too. Yet the little girl was smiling. Her grandmother explained that Catholic Relief Services had been paying for the girl to receive treatment at the PEPFAR clinic. “As a Muslim,” the elderly woman said, “I never imagined that a Catholic group would help me like that. I am so grateful to the American people.”
At a news conference, I reiterated my call for Congress to reauthorize and expand PEPFAR. President Kikwete jumped in: “If this program is discontinued or disrupted, there would be so many people who will lose hope; certainly there will be death. My passionate appeal is for PEPFAR to continue.” An American reporter asked him if Tanzanians were excited about the prospect of Barack Obama becoming president. Kikwete’s reply warmed my heart. “For us,” he said, “the most important thing is, let him be as good a friend of Africa as President Bush has been.”