Savage Inequalities

One year after devastating cyclone, aid has failed to reach most of Myanmar’s needy people

When Cyclone Nargis tore through Myanmar a year ago, 150-mile-per-hour winds and powerful storm surges flattened entire villages, carved out a new coastline, and altered the landscape of the Irrawaddy Delta. Despite the devastation, there was hope that the cyclone, which killed nearly 140,000 people, might also alter the geography of humanitarian aid in the country.

The response to the disaster was unprecedented in Myanmar’s history. Even though the military junta initially blocked most international aid, after weeks of negotiations a record amount of money, equipment, and staff members were eventually allowed into the country.

In the cyclone’s aftermath, some aid programs tripled their size; others grew tenfold. The scale of aid, and the level of cooperation between the military junta and relief groups, had never been seen here before.

Disparity in Aid

Yet one year after the waters receded, relief organizations are frustrated that the mechanisms to speed aid to those affected by the disaster have not been created elsewhere in Myanmar, formerly known as Burma.

The relatively large amount of post-Nargis aid has created a major disparity between cyclone victims and those in critical need elsewhere in the country. While food and supplies have poured into the delta, hunger and severe malnutrition persist in other parts of Myanmar.

In the northern state of Chin, villagers have faced famine after their crops were devoured by an infestation of rats. Drought has contributed to widespread malnutrition in Shan state. In the northern Rakhine state, there are reports of starvation among the ethnic Rohingya people, many of whom have fled to escape poverty and persecution.

The World Food Program, a United Nations agency, says six million people in Myanmar will need food aid this year. Only one million of those who need assistance live in the cyclone-affected delta.

That is not to say the estimated 2.4 million cyclone victims don’t need help.

Hundreds of thousands still live in temporary shelters. The blue tents that now dot the delta aren’t likely to survive the monsoon rains that started to arrive in May. The first post-Nargis rice harvest, which the delta depends upon for its survival, was down 50 to 80 percent because of salinated paddies. In the worst-affected areas, half the draft animals drowned. Shrimp farms and fishing boats were destroyed.

“The biggest need now is [rebuilding] livelihoods — getting people back on their feet,” said Lasse Norgaard, a spokesman for the International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies.

In February, the U.N. made a public appeal for nearly $700-million to pay for its three-year cyclone-recovery plan. The amount pales in comparison with the $13.6-billion pledged to aid victims of the 2004 Asian tsunamis, which killed 225,000 people.

With many governments jittery about giving assistance that might benefit the vilified military junta, donations have been slow to come in. At a May news conference in Yangon to mark the cyclone’s one-year anniversary, the U.N.’s resident coordinator, Bishow Parajuli, said only $100-million had been pledged for next year, about half what is needed.

The need is still great, said Mr. Parajuli. “Continued support and engagement by the international community must be ensured for years to come.”

‘A Blind Eye’

Even with the unmet needs in the delta region, the discrepancy in the amount of money that has been raised for Nargis victims and the amount allocated to the rest of the country is enormous, said Andrew Kirkwood, who oversees Myanmar operations for the charity Save the Children.

Relief donations made to charities in the aftermath of the cyclone amounted to about $310 million, or about $130 for each person affected. For the rest of the country, annual development assistance amounts to about $2.50 per person. By comparison, foreign aid in neighboring Laos amounts to about $55 per person per year, he said.

“The issue for me is not that the $130 is too much, because clearly after a catastrophic event, it is not,” Mr. Kirkwood said. “The big problem is the $2.50. The international community has failed the children of Myanmar. It’s turned a blind eye.”

Foreign governments and aid groups, however, feel that their hands are tied. After years of political repression and government policies that have kept the Burmese people in abject poverty, many foreign donors are loath to do anything that might benefit the junta.

When Nargis hit however, the semergency allowed countries to put politics aside because there was such an overarching humanitarian need, charity leaders say.

Although it took nearly a month, and a personal visit by U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon, Myanmar’s military rulers eventually agreed to allow international aid into the country. Under the accord, all Nargis-related money and relief supplies go through a group run by the Myanmar government, the United Nations, and the Association of Southeast Asian Nations.

Relief charities are never wild about adding another layer of bureaucracy, but the group has been effective, said Brian Agland, who is in charge of CARE’s operations in Myanmar. “Once it was established, all kinds of mechanisms were put in place,” he said. “It was critical.”

2 Aid Systems

Only in the Irrawaddy, however, is aid fast-tracked and the rules relaxed. Outside the cyclone-hit region, even in places where the humanitarian situation is worse, the byzantine approval processes and restrictions on international aid still apply, said Mr. Agland. The result is a two-tiered aid-delivery system in Myanmar.

“I can simply drive down to the delta,” he said. But when he wanted to travel to another part of the country, he had to wait more than six weeks to get permission and was required to travel with a group and be accompanied by a governmentliaison officer.

Despite the long-running suspicions on both sides, charities say they have a good relationship with the officials they work with at the Ministries of Health and Social Welfare.

“Most of us didn’t push the agenda, we followed the rules, we delivered on the ground,” said Mr. Agland. “They measure you by that. I think that in regard to [the government’s] relationship with international agencies, Nargis has been a positive one as far as they are concerned.”

Uncomfortable Silence

Obeying the rules and not challenging the government on human-rights abuses, however, has been uncomfortable for some aid workers.

Some, for example, say they are outraged that they are forced to keep quiet about systematic abuses against the Muslim-minority Rohingyas living in northern Rakhine state.

“In my many years working in disaster relief, this is the worst humanitarian crisis I have seen,” said a U.N. employee, who asked not to be identified. Government policies that essentially deny the Rohingyas the ability to work or farm have created near-famine conditions, he said.

Anywhere else, he said, a humanitarian disaster would be declared and aid rushed in. But in order to keep working in Myanmar, charities are keeping quiet. “It’s the job of the U.N. to ring the bells,” the aid official said bitterly, “but they’ve bought into this.”

Mr. Parajuli, the U.N.’s resident coordinator, said the organization was not ignoring such abuses. But he cautioned against seeing human rights only in terms of political rights and freedoms. “Human rights is everything,” he argued. “It is access to food, access to water, access to education.”

Defending the Work

In the case of Save the Children, said Mr. Kirkwood, fears that aid would fall into the hands of the military did not materialize. Supplies were unloaded from cargo planes, placed immediately into trucks, taken to boats, and then distributed to the people who needed it. The entire process was documented on tape, he said.

Mr. Kirkwood bristled at accusations that charities danced with the devil. The response to the disaster “demonstrated in a high-profile way that independent agencies can do very effective work,” he said. “It’s proved that accountable, transparent humanitarian assistance can be provided.”

He believes that when people — and governments — see the results in Myanmar, they will become more likely to open their pocketbooks to the effort.

Even if more money is raised, however, few Burmese believe that the generals will let a great deal of humanitarian assistance, let alone large number of outsiders, into the country.

“They don’t want what happened in Aceh to happen here,” said an aid official, referring to the Indonesian Army’s loss of control over the separatist region after the tsunami hit, and aid and foreigners poured in.

The junta has no interest in taking better care of the people, said one Burmese community organizer, who would not give his name. “People who are starving can be controlled easier,” he said. “We are very angry at them, but we are too frightened to say more.”