WASHINGTON — Since the Eisenhower administration, the United States generally has done food aid in a certain way: grow and pack it in America, ship it across the world on American-flagged ships, then deliver it through American charities, which sell a portion of the food to fund their other programs. Not coincidentally, the system has been popular with American agribusinesses, shipping companies and maritime unions.
But for the last decade, aid reformers have asked: Why couldn't a portion of food aid be purchased regionally — in Africa, say, rather than the American Midwest — or given directly to individuals in vouchers so they can buy in (and strengthen) local agriculture markets? This has not, understandably, been popular with American agribusinesses, shipping companies and maritime unions. But Congress granted the George W. Bush administration limited flexibility to experiment with more direct forms of assistance.
The food aid debate is no longer theoretical. In Syria, the delivery of commodities is often impossible. So the available, cash-based aid is devoted to this crisis. But commodities, by congressional mandate, must still comprise 75 percent of overall American food aid. As a result, cash-based aid in post-famine Somalia — where commodity delivery is also difficult — must be cut. About 150,000 Somali children will lose services.
What American food aid programs need most is not additional money but additional flexibility. “Commodity aid is useful,” says Roger Thurow, agriculture fellow at the ONE campaign, “when there is such a broad hunger crisis that there isn't enough local food to be purchased for aid. Also, it helps at the outset of emergencies, when food aid is prepositioned and can move quickly into the hunger zones.”
But sending commodities, Thurow warns, “is counterproductive when there is surplus food available locally.” It undercuts farmers and destroys their incentives. In “Enough: Why the World's Poorest Starve in an Age of Plenty,” co-written with Scott Kilman, Thurow tells the story of the 2003 Ethiopian famine, which had been preceded by two years of good harvests. Local farmers still had some food stored. When American corn and wheat started arriving, the trucks rumbled past warehouses filled with Ethiopian crops. “Why wasn't the U.S. aid flexible enough,” asks Thurow, “to buy up the Ethiopian food along with sending U.S.-grown food?”