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From
Conquistadors
To Corporations
Wanna
Do Something About Globalization?
You Might Start By Learning A Little History.
by
Richard Parker
If we are to
talk about "globablization" today, we must first talk
about death. What happened in New York and Washington, D.C., last
Sept. 11 has squarely put before us the true scale of the moral
and human issues this process called "globalization" entails.
Let me share with you some simple facts:
Over the course
of this coming year, more than 50 million-50,000,000-people will
die of preventable disease or malnutrition, human beings the United
Nations estimates needn't have died had someone been willing to
spend just a dollar or two per person for food or medicine.
To give some
perspective, 50 million dead is greater than the total casualties
of World War II. It is eight times greater than the Holocaust, about
which we all rightly insist "Never Again." It amounts
each year to 13,000 World Trade Centers, which must also never be
forgotten. And yet-year after year-this loss of life goes on not
merely forgotten but unknown to all but a tiny fraction of Americans.
Of those 50
million who will die, there is an even more painful fact: More than
12 million will be children under the age of 5. That's 1 million
children needlessly dying every month, a quarter million every week,
nearly 40,000 children every day.
THE WORD "GLOBALIZATION"
is a perfectly modern term, unpoetic, efficiently neutral and technical,
a description of what many even now believe is a natural, and therefore
inescapable, process going on around the planet-a "golden straightjacket,"
as New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman calls it, that only
the foolish and malign refuse to accept. Globalization is also often
described as new, the consequence of amazing technological, informational,
and market advances unknown even a quarter-century ago.
But contrary
to that conventional wisdom, globalization is not a new phenomenon:
It is at least half a million years old, and began when our prehistoric
ancestors walked out of Africa, into the Middle East, Europe, and
Asia-and eventually Australasia and the Americas. Long after that
first-stage globalization, human beings gradually settled down in
fixed communities and territories and began exchanging hunting and
gathering for farming.
Now a new sort
of "globalization" started. It was the exchange of culturally
specific knowledge and things, cultivatable plants and domesticated
animals, weapons and jewelry, tools and toys, techniques for casting
pots and weaving cloth and shaping metals, and stories-crucial stories
about who we are, why we are here, who we worship and obey, and
why. This second stage of globalization, of course, is hardly new
either-it had been underway for at least 15,000 to 20,000 years
before Christ's birth.
The period today
that we vainly imagine is so new and revolutionary is only the latest
chapter in a fourth or fifth stage of globalization, a wave that
began in Western Europe 500 years ago.
There are of
course undeniably "new" things about the world we live
in today. Yet what so many briskly talk about as characteristically
modern-as signs of our "new global era"-in fact rest on
long-established patterns and achievements. Even those larger features
we think are most distinct about our own global era today-the immense
trade flows, or the instant information of the worldwide Internet,
or the electronic financial markets that send billions coursing
around the globe-all have a longer and deeper heritage than most
of us understand.
Take global
trade, for example. America's international trade is basically no
greater today under George W. Bush than it was under Teddy Roosevelt
a century ago, measured as a percentage of gross national product.
The total volume of trade has grown-but so has the economy.
The same with
international finance. We're so accustomed to being told breathlessly-and
more recently anxiously-about the latest in the "new"
world of global capital markets that we forget such markets were
well developed by the time of the American Civil War.
The mid-19th
century, after all, was a time when English investors poured money
into Canadian railroad bonds, Rhodesian cattle ranches, and Ceylonese
tea plantations; when Americans bought German chemical firms and
sold sophisticated textile looms to Egyptians, opened hotels in
Shanghai and telegraph companies in Mexico City; when the French
invested in Russian and Chinese manufacturers, Senegalese farms,
Caribbean plantations, and New Caledonian mines. In other words,
there's a reason why highly regarded economic historians such as
David Landes and Jeffrey Williamson have long tried to remind this
ever-amnesiac culture of ours that the late 19th century-not the
late 20th century-was the first great "Golden Age of Global
Trade and Investment."
Likewise, the
great global "Information Age" we are told started only
yesterday was already 150 years old when Bill Gates launched Microsoft.
It wasn't the personal computer that created the Information Age-it
was the steam-driven rotary printing press, an invention from the
days of Napoleon that brought not just to the West but to the world
mass-circulation newspapers, magazines, and books. Thanks to the
steam press, the total number of newspapers and magazines exploded,
from fewer than 1,300-almost all in Western Europe and North America-to
more than 30,000 across the planet. Meanwhile, the average price
of a book plummeted 90 percent, creating thereby not only an immense
new world of voracious adult readers but the ability to provide
textbooks to millions of new students-a revolution that began spreading
literacy across the planet at an unprecedented rate.
There's more.
When someone starts bubbling on to you about "The Internet
Revolution" and about its amazing abilities to move information
and ideas around the globe almost instantly, gently stop that person
and simply repeat this name: "Samuel Morse." Because it
was Morse, again in the early 19th century, who was the true "global
networking" revolutionary-long before Cisco or Yahoo or dot.coms.
Before Morse, information traveled little more quickly than it had
for thousands of years-by land, at the speed of a horse, by sea,
at that of a sailing ship. Before Morse, for example, the fastest
a message could travel from New Delhi to New York was four to five
months-God, a fast ship, and the weather willing. By the time Morse
died, copper telegraph lines spanned the continents and the oceans-and
that same message now went from Delhi to New York not in four to
five months, but in four to five seconds.
WHY IS IT IMPORTANT
to understand that globalization is not new? Comprehending our present
era as another stage in a process that is 500 years old in one way
(and more deeply 500,000 years old in another) means that you and
I can look backward for patterns and connections, for trends and
similarities-and most important draw on the richness of our traditions,
our ancestors, our values, and our faith to shape this world as
those before have tried to do, living in that same faith.
Think back to
what happened 500 years ago that gave birth to the present era of
globalization. Of course, that era has largely been about the expansion
of West European power across the globe-and not some vaguely mutual
and equal process of all peoples. After Columbus, African fleets
did not sail off to conquer India. Incan traders did not land in
France and carry back slaves and gold to Peru. The Chinese did not
begin exporting opium to England (as England once did to China),
and Indonesia did not colonize Holland for its spices.
In short, we
would all be more honest if we talked about our present era as part
of the 500-year-long chapter involving global "Europeanization,"
not the "globalization" of all. The values, logic, and
technology, and the social, political, and economic forms that are
today remaking the world originated in Western Europe (or its North
American child), not somewhere else.
Second, we need
to see how the legacy of specific changes in European-born political,
economic, and value structures-not some "natural" process-continues
to define the current global era. One hundred years ago, just half
a dozen European states-Britain, France, Germany, Belgium, Holland,
and Portugal-ruled empires that directly or indirectly controlled
60 percent of the world's population and territories. Today those
political empires are gone, and there are more than 200 nation-states
in their place.
Yet here's a
conundrum: Since those empires ended, global economic inequality
has worsened, not gotten better. Since 1960 alone, the income gap
between rich and poor states has doubled, leaving the richest states
controlling more global income than they ever did back when they
directly ran colonial empires-while more than a billion people today
survive on less than $1 a day, and two billion more live on less
than $2 a day.
For most of
us, that reality should be profoundly troubling. After all, as Americans,
not only do we worship the ineffable majesty of Progress, we deeply
believe that our own early escape from colonial domination was central
to our success and affluence as a people. So why has it not been
so for others?
We know, of
course, that much of the world over the past 500 years paid a terrible
price for its subjugation by European empires-the enslavement of
millions of Africans and the decimation by disease of millions of
Native Americans being merely two of the more familiar examples
for Americans. The great economic takeoff of the West in the 19th
and 20th centuries owed much to technological innovation and enormous
effort and industry, to be sure-but it owed much as well to exploitation
and consequently uneven patterns of development imposed by the West
that unfairly used the economic wealth of others for our own ends.
In the 17th,
18th, and even 19th centuries, the immense capital accumulation
that funded the new technologies that gave birth to the Industrial
Era in the West relied on resources transferred from the poor throughout
the world. Fortunes that were invested in the new factories were
made first in tobacco, coffee, tea, sugar, minerals, and land that
relied on slavery, indentured labor, and-frankly-outright theft
on an unimaginable scale. For example, in the United States alone,
by 1860 slaves were the second-largest form of wealth after land
itself-that is, human slaves were greater in value than all U.S.
manufacturing plants or all the railroads combined.
Many thought
that this would all change with the end of these great Western empires.
But less has changed than one might have hoped. After World War
II, as more and more colonies won their freedom, they entered our
"Europeanized" world unprepared by their old colonial
masters. For example, the Congo-on the day Belgium set it free in
1960-had exactly 12 college graduates among a population of more
than 14 million. Moreover, these new nations were born amidst a
global struggle between the United States and the Soviet Union (and
later China) in which each superpower valued the loyalty of its
allies over the greater good of national democracy and just economic
development.
The Soviets
and Chinese had their own horrible client states-Albania, Romania,
Cambodia-but the United States was certainly no innocent in this
world. The Shah in Iran, the Marcoses in the Philippines, the endless
list of Mobutus and Pinochets, Somozas, Korean generals, and Greek
colonels were free to steal, torture, and abuse because, as Lyndon
Johnson once so colorfully said of one of our client leaders, "Well,
he may be a son-of-a-bitch, but at least he's our son-of-a-bitch."
The price of
this "our son-of-bitch" policy-and its corruption of the
fragile tendrils of both democracy and egalitarian economic development
in newly liberated colonies-had led by the 1970s to a vast system
of military and oligarchic regimes across the developing world that
was not only condoned but actively supported by the United States.
Our intelligence services trained and equipped their torturers,
our military schooled their death squads, and our bankers happily
deposited and hid the immense wealth they freely plundered. In the
1970s we permitted and even encouraged an immense perpetration of
evil-an evil that filled shallow mass graves in Guatemala with highland
Indians and the torture chambers of SAVAK (the Iranian secret police)
with students in Iran, that sustained pestilential civil wars in
Angola and Mozambique, wars whose machetes and land mines killed
40 civilians for every combatant, and that led Argentine and Chilean
soldiers to push the broken-but still conscious-bodies of their
opponents out of helicopters at 10,000 feet.
Today the old
"evil empire" of Soviet communism is gone, and there has
been an important flowering of at least modestly democratic regimes
in the developing world. In this, there is reason for hope and celebration.
But, lest we forget, the political cost of blocking and overthrowing
democracy in the name of anti-communism wasn't the only price billions
of Third World poor were made to pay. There was-and is-an economic
price as well, that took a brutal new rise with the explosion of
global oil prices in the 1970s. Entire economies without their own
oil supplies ground to a halt-or began borrowing heavily from New
York banks and Washington's multilateral financial institutions
to maintain energy imports in a desperate race to outgrow poverty
faster than their debts came due. With all but a handful of exceptions,
those countries lost the race-creating in the process a global debt
crisis that the West resolved by forcing on the developing world
harsh new lending conditions.
These conditions-which
famously came attached to "structural adjustment programs"
meant to generate "export-led growth"-required poor countries
to make massive cuts in education and health care, in road and hospital
construction, and simultaneously raised heavy new taxes on their
poor and middle classes, while cutting taxes on their rich. "Structural
adjustment" also meant opening domestic markets to Western
goods and reorienting domestic production away from local markets
toward exports designed to earn hard currency that would pay down
the old debts incurred by the energy crisis.
Given the intoxication
leaders such as Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan encouraged with
radical deregulation and worship of "the market" in its
most primitive form, no one bothered to notice at the time that
while such structural adjustment policies followed a certain kind
of microeconomic textbook logic to the letter, it was a logic on
paper that had never worked in practice. The successful rapid growth
of the world's first capitalist economies such as Britain, Germany,
and the United States in fact had never relied on such structural
adjustment models-nor had Europe's recovery after World War II,
nor Japan's explosive growth in the '60s and '70s, nor the phenomenal
rise of the so-called Asian Tiger economies in the '70s and '80s-and
certainly not the monumental growth of China in the '80s and '90s.
In fact, every
developmentally successful economy in the last 200 years had protected
its domestic markets from "free trade," limited currency
convertibility, used tax and labor policies to lessen inequality,
poured billions into education and physical infrastructure, and
used the size and power of its government to favor industries, technologies,
and regions considered important to national development, and in
dozens of ways limited the unadulterated power of private markets
and private wealth that, like the Golden Calf, has been worshipped
so freely in this past quarter-century.
TODAY, OF COURSE,
the World Bank and others freely acknowledge the failure of these
structural adjustment programs they were promoting just a decade
ago-and have even, in limited ways, apologized for the damage their
punitive and pious economic fundamentalism caused. But in some ways
the apologies have come too late: All across the Third World, the
schools have closed, the rural medical workers have been dispersed,
cheap food imported from the West has driven millions of farmers
into cities, and the cities-lacking consumers-have failed to create
the jobs needed to feed the hungry mouths who cry out. As a result:
. 100 countries
have undergone economic decline since the 1970s, with sub-Saharan
Africans alone living on 20 percent less than they did 25 years
ago.
. Worldwide,
of 4.4 billion people in the developing world, 3 billion live on
less than $2 a day, 1.3 billion on less than $1, and 840 million
go hungry. Three-fifths lack basic sanitation, a quarter lack adequate
housing, and a third will die before reaching the age of 40.
. Meanwhile,
wealth and income has become so much more concentrated both in rich
countries and among the rich in poor countries that the U.N. now
estimates that the 15 richest individuals are worth more than the
combined GDPs (gross domestic products) of all of sub-Saharan Africa.
Globally, as
a consequence of these profoundly misguided policies, the numbers
of very poor during the 1990s alone grew by nearly 500,000,000.
MORE THAN A
century ago, a powerful new wave of reform emerged that radically
reordered power and wealth and reshaped the balance between public
and private as well as the weak and the strong. Beginning in the
1880s and accelerating right up to World War I, an amazing campaign
of renewal swept the nation. Democratic and justice-driven to its
core, it reasserted the values of the U.S. founding fathers and
took Lincoln as its patron saint-it sought nothing less than the
"reconsecration" of what its leaders took to be America's
uniquely covenantal history.
Historians today
call that period "the Progressive Era"-but in its own
time, millions more called it, this glorious covenantal renewal,
simply "the Social Gospel era." And in truth it was-explicitly
and unapologetically-a determined, systematic, and detailed application
of mainline Protestant values to a new urban, industrial, and globalizing
world. Moreover, the achievements of that Social Gospel movement
have ever since defined American life.
The hard work
of building and realizing the Social Gospel movement was done by
the committed Christian social scientists and philanthropists, the
reformers, journalists, and politicians whose faith led and sustained
them. It was a remarkable period-one in which the confidence of
America's mainline Protestant leaders led them to associate Christian
moral teachings with scientific advance and social and political
reform. It was an era of leaders who saw in the achievement of justice
on earth manifest signs of the heavenly kingdom in which they believed
as Christians-leaders who passionately believed they had not only
the right, but the obligation, not merely to witness but to alter
the course of human history.
Today, more
than a century later-and in the wake of Sept. 11, facing hard years
and daunting challenges ahead-we would all do well to reacquaint
ourselves with the achievements of that Social Gospel era, and the
men and women who led it. There is much talk of the potential of
"faith-based organizations" nowadays, too little of it
(in my opinion) well-focused, too much of it sentimental. What the
Social Gospel did was deeply faith-based, yet everywhere visionary
and practical at once about the powerful and subtle relation between
religion and democracy and the central role of renewed democratic
government-not as enemy or even competitors of any faith, but-when
rightly led-the instrument of all faiths' most generous instincts.
The German sociologist
Max Weber visited America in the early 1900s and saw much of what
the Social Gospel era achieved. He knew there would always be skeptics,
those who doubted that vision could accomplish much. For such doubts,
however, he left a timeless reminder.
"We shall
not succeed," Weber wrote, "in banishing that which besets
us-the sorrow of being born too late for a great political era-unless
we understand how to become the forerunner of a greater one."
Richard Parker,
an Oxford-trained economist, is senior fellow at the Shorenstein
Center, John F. Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University.
This article is adapted from a September 2001 speech before the
House of Bishops of the Episcopal Church, USA. Portions appear in
the new book Waging Reconciliation: God's Mission in a Time of Globalization
and Crisis (edited by Ian T. Douglas; Church Publishing, Inc., 2002).
http://www.sojo.net/magazine/index.cfm/action/
sojourners/issue/soj0205/article/020510.html
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