From HIV/AIDS to COVID: Fault Lines, Shifting Apathy and Global Inequalities

Alexandra Paul, Print Assistant Editor

September 09, 2021

“UNICEF representative to Ghana Anne-Claire Dufay presents a shipment of coronavirus vaccines from the Covax program to Ghana's government representatives at the airport in Accra on Wednesday.” Nipah Dennis/AFP/Getty Images via The Washington Post.

“UNICEF representative to Ghana Anne-Claire Dufay presents a shipment of coronavirus vaccines from the Covax program to Ghana's government representatives at the airport in Accra on Wednesday.” Nipah Dennis/AFP/Getty Images via The Washington Post.

As the coronavirus pandemic ripped through countries around the world and people waited with bated breath for vaccine distribution, a disturbing pattern began to emerge amongst those being left behind. Without a doubt, COVID-19 has placed a spotlight on the fault lines that have long existed in our societies, especially internationally. However, unlike the novel coronavirus, there’s nothing new about a disease being accompanied by highlighted inequalities. Though many, like myself, are too young to remember the outbreak of the HIV/AIDS epidemic, we did not grow up in an HIV or AIDS-free world. While medical advancements curbed the crisis in the Global North, many countries in the Global South continue to struggle with the disease, most notably in Sub-Saharan Africa. How did the Global North respond to the devastation of the HIV/AIDS epidemic and the COVID-19 pandemic in Global South countries? Did we learn from the grave and deadly mistakes of the past, or have we repeated them to the detriment of people around the world?

The initial response to the HIV/AIDS epidemic can best be described in one word: disinterested. In the 1980’s and early 1990’s, the globe spent less than $300 million USD annually on AIDS-related help in the Global South. While life-extending treatments were discovered in the late 1990’s, it wasn’t until the early 2000’s that public pressure caused wealthy nations to pledge financial aid to low-income countries with high infection rates, which were (and are) largely concentrated in Sub-Saharan Africa. This led to significant progress throughout the first decade of the 21st century, but the disease is still prevalent today. In 2018, the World Health Organization (WHO) reported that 1.8 million people became newly infected with HIV, with two-thirds coming from Africa, bringing the global total of people living with HIV to roughly 37.9 million. Furthermore, we are still failing to provide adequate aid to meet the goal of the United Nations AIDS program (UNAIDS): to eradicate AIDS by 2030. Only 71% of its $26.2 billion USD goal was met in 2020, while non-UNAIDS donations to middle- and low-income countries have also been reduced. The truth is, since Global North countries have found a way forward, their concern for countries in the Global South seems to have faded and left millions in a dire situation. While 2020 could have seen countries re-prioritize their financial obligations to accommodate the effects of the coronavirus, the incentive of appeasing the public has quietly disappeared. It’s not just Global North governments that have grown apathetic, it’s also their people.

COVID also highlights global inequalities and disinterest, especially with the distribution and financing of essential, sought-after vaccines. Though some countries like the United States and Canada have been able to slowly re-integrate elements of pre-pandemic normalcy, many states, especially in the Global South, remain in crisis. Covax, the ground-breaking international collaborative effort meant to deliver essential coronavirus vaccines to low-income nations with the help of high-income donors, is quickly teetering towards failure. Not only has it struggled to acquire doses from its benefactors, but recipient countries have struggled to distribute doses because donors have reneged on some of their financial contributions. In late June, it had only five months left to meet its 2 billion dose goal and a mere 90 million doses distributed. Even if countries receive doses, several governments do not have the funds or infrastructure to effectively distribute them. For example, Benin saw 110,000 Astra-Zeneca doses expire and Chad only administered 6% of its vaccines over 5 weeks. While vaccine relief for countries in the Global North cannot be framed as being immoral, it would be irresponsible to ignore the stark contrast in the Global South. As hope draws nearer for several countries in the Global North, many in the Global South are forced to continue in despair without an adequate supply of vaccines or the means to distribute them. There has been some modest outcry in Global North countries, but the public largely remains passive and preoccupied with domestic affairs. Just as pressure on governments to help with HIV/AIDS abroad faded as the light at the end of the tunnel appeared, so too are the Global North people of today unconcerned with pressuring their governments into contributing fairly and generously to Covax.

So, it seems we have not learned from the global fissures that came to the forefront decades ago during the HIV/AIDS crisis. Inequalities between Global North and Global South countries still dictate the fate of billions of people around the world. In the face of Canada’s climbing vaccination numbers and subsequent self-congratulation, it’s important to consider who has been left behind in order for us to have reached this point. While we cannot reverse the past decisions of our forebears or our current elected officials, we can choose not to plow ahead without regard for people who live beyond our borders. It is crucial that we refuse to remain or become apathetic and that we continue to use our power as citizens to pressure our governments into doing right by the world; our collective outrage is far more impactful and useful than our collective apathy. Canadians are quickly approaching a snap election and this must be something we consider when selecting who we want to represent us in the world. It’s important for the health of those affected countries, but it also protects us all. We must learn from the mistakes of these crises, or we will be doomed to repeat them; that much is clear because we already have.