Beyond Symbolism

President Clinton, in a 12-day trip dominated more by ceremony than tangible progress, has expressed regret for America’s past sins against the African continent: Cold War geopolitical manipulations, diplomatic neglect and even the sordid business of slavery. That sort of symbolism is important, but it carries little weight on the level of potential political or economic support.

“The right question today,” Clinton said Thursday in South Africa, “is what can we do with Africa?” Washington’s answer will be shaped by a White House more comfortable with domestic than foreign policy and a Republican-controlled Congress that has shown little interest in foreign aid. The Clinton administration itself emphasizes trade over aid. What African presidents want, and some justifiably deserve, is aid with few strings and substantial debt relief.

Washington cannot afford to bail out every country or intervene in every crisis, but neither can the world’s lone superpower ignore international problems, even those that lack big political constituencies in the United States. At present those few constituencies that stand for Africa are business leaders with their eyes on a buck, black Americans embracing their African roots, philanthropists, environmentalist and academicians.

Unless that group grows in number and political strength, this Congress, which has presided over the emasculation of America’s once substantial and politically influential foreign aid programs, is likely to turn away from Africa. Clinton clearly cares. His recent stops in four African countries have made an impression. But it’s fair to surmise that once he leaves the continent, its problems will drop off the White House radar screen.

In South Africa, Clinton praised President Nelson Mandela and lauded the democratically elected and racially integrated Parliament, the primary political product of the post-apartheid era. He described a future partnership between the two countries, a partnership that means one thing to the hundreds of U.S. business leaders who look with yearning toward the continent’s strongest economy and another to the millions of South Africans who hope foreign aid and investment will translate into jobs, housing, schools and medical care. In the best of scenarios, both groups would be served. In the likeliest outcome, South Africans will see few if any waves of aid.

Symbolism matters, of course. Clinton is only the second American president to make an official visit to Africa and the first ever to go to Johannesburg and Cape Town. But African children, among the world’s poorest, can’t eat symbolism. If Clinton really wants to encourage “the new African renaissance,” after he returns to Washington he will have to use his considerable political skills to persuade Congress that aid makes sense. Perhaps if more senators and representatives were on the journey, Congress would be able to understand the results of leaving Africa largely to its own devices.

In Rwanda, Clinton was deeply moved by sight of victims of a 1994 genocide, which Washington did little to stop. He confessed, “We did not act quickly enough after the killing began. We should not have allowed the refugee camps to become safe havens for the killers. We did not immediately call these crimes by their rightful name: genocide.” All true, but the American lethargy happened on Clinton’s watch. Did he have to see it to believe it?

When the presidential party completes its visit next week and flies off to America, only hope and a few aid packages will remain in the vapor trail. Africa needs more.