October 29, 2001

Whatever happened to the 'War on AIDS?'

By Mark Mathabane

Imagine America fighting a war against a formidable and ruthless enemy who has killed a mind-boggling number of innocent people and threatens to kill millions more.

The war is difficult and long-term, and the stakes are very high. To win this war requires unprecedented cooperation among nations, large sums of money, leaders of courage and resolve and, most important, patriotic citizens who are willing to sacrifice for the common good.

No, I'm not talking about the war against terrorism. I'm talking about the forgotten war -- the war against AIDS.

As the anthrax scare and the war in Afghanistan rage on, stories about the AIDS pandemic have all but vanished. Hardly any politician talks about humanity's greatest threat. And few Americans are outraged enough by the enormity of the disaster to call on Washington to lead a united front of nations to fight it.

Yet AIDS has killed 21.8 million people, 4.3 million of them children. More than 47 million people worldwide are infected with the virus, and 16,000 new cases are being reported every day. And if America doesn't lead the world in vigorously waging war against the deadliest epidemic since the bubonic plague, millions and millions more will be infected.

In my homeland of South Africa, AIDS is now the No. 1 killer, with the overall death rate among women in their 20s higher than that of women in the 60s. In my hometown of Alexandra, a one square mile ghetto outside Johannesburg with a population of close to 800,000 people, more than 40 percent of adults are infected. In the next decade, it is estimated that between 5 million and 10 million South Africans will die from AIDS, out of a population of 42 million.

And across sub-Saharan Africa, Asia, Latin America, the former Soviet Union, and even in China, AIDS is silently going about it murderous work. "The pandemic is not stabilizing," observes Stefano Vella, president of the International AIDS Society. "It's just beginning. It's just a baby -- and that's what people don't understand."

The tragedy is that the AIDS pandemic can be halted. Scientists at Notre Dame University have conducted research that show that the exponential spread of AIDS can be stopped by attacking its hubs, or areas of high concentration. These hubs are in poor nations, most of which have dismal health care systems that are overwhelmed and governments that cannot afford the effective therapies that are available in the West and have expanded the lifespan of sufferers, improved their quality of life and dramatically reduced the numbers of HIV transmissions.

Following pressure from AIDS activists, drug companies have drastically lowered the cost of AIDS medication, and in some cases are even permitting generic versions to be made. But even at rock-bottom prices, cocktail therapies are beyond the reach of most poor countries, where many people can't even afford regular meals. And resources are also needed in the all-important area of AIDS prevention and education.

Several months ago the United Nation adopted a resolution committing the world body to fighting the spread of the pandemic. Conservative estimates pointed to the urgent need of a $10 billion fund to jump-start the war. Little of that money has materialized. Contrast that with the $40 billion that the United States has pledged in the war against terrorism. Or compare the amount raised in Atlanta's recent AIDS walk -- $1 million, down from $1.4 million last year -- to the $150 million that was raised in just 2 hours by celebrities for the families of the victims of the terrorist attacks. And more money is still pouring in.

I do not begrudge the recipients of all this generosity and solidarity. The wounds inflicted on the nation's soul Sept. 11 left us all feeling deep pain, and it is right that we respond with determination to do our utmost to succor our compatriots who've suffered irreparable losses.

But I also can't help thinking about the millions who've died in the forgotten war, about their decimated families and communities. I also think about the 13.2 million children orphaned by the disease who are now taking care of what's left of their tattered families, or are desperately roaming the streets prostituting themselves for food and for a pittance to provide for their hungry siblings.

I wonder if, as the war against terrorism intensifies and siphons scarce resources, they do ask, "Why doesn't the world respond to our plight as powerfully as it has responded to the terrorists attacks? Is because we are considered less than human?"

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