Feature

Trading in destruction

Military technology is causing death, disease and human misery around the world — without a single shot being fired. Janet Williamson reports on the dead end economy

Most people in Britain have heard of the arms trade that fuelled the Gulf war, and many know about the companies and countries that make the repression of the Kurds possible by selling weapons, parts and components to Saddam Hussein. But how much do we hear about the year-round arms trade and contributes to under-development, starvation and poverty throughout the third world?

About three quarters of British arms exports go to the third world — amounting to about £1,937m worth of weapons in 1989. The sales are going on all the time, behind the closed doors of the Ministry of Defence, out of the public eye and away from media scrutiny. The government does not have to reveal details of military sales, and frequently withholds information even from MPs, arguing that it is a question of ‘commercial confidentiality’. It takes a crisis like the Gulf war to bring the arms trade to public attention.

Yet it does not take a war for the impact of the arms trade on third world development to be devastating in terms of human suffering and loss of life. This simple fact is central to the argument against exporting arms — an argument which needs to be urgently and forcefully, while the effects of militarisation remain fresh in our minds.

Arms spending diverts scarce third world resources away from health, education, agricultural and industrial investment, all essential to a nation’s development. The effect on the quality of life of people in developing countries is grave. For example, in 1986 India spent 0.9% of its GNP on health services, whilst finding 3.5% for military spending. India’s infant mortality rate is one of the highest in the world, with 99 of every thousand babies born dying under the age of one year. Life expectancy in India is 57 years, and there is one hospital bed per 1,230 people.

In contrast, Costa Rica spent 5.4% of its GNP on health, and 0.6% on the military. Costa Rica’s infant mortality rate is 18 per thousand, life expectancy is 74 years, and there is one hospital bed per 440 people.

Military purchases distort what investment there is towards military rather than civilian priorities. Roads may be built to link a military complex to a port, rather than servicing the needs of isolated rural villages. This process of militarisation also absorbs technical skills, which are in scarce supply and are essential to economies struggling to develop. In the Gulf Co-operation Council states, more people work in the military than in any other sector except farming. Thirty percent of Saudi men are employed in military-related jobs.

Arms usually have to be for in ‘hard’ foreign currency, absorbing precious export revenue, and so restricting imports of civil technology. As many third world economies have a rural base, arms are financed by revenue from agricultural exports. Farmers may be forced to switch to cash crops and subsistence farmers displaced from their land to make way for large-scale, commercial farming — all to pay for weapons. The effects on domestic food production are evident.

But what do weapons put back into the economy? They have no use, other than destruction. They do not create more jobs, as investment in industry would, nor increase food production as investment in agriculture would, nor improve the skills of the workforce as investment in education would, nor reduce disease, as investment in health would. They are dead end expenditure: they do not create wealth, only waste it.

The third world arms market, having grown throughout most of the 1980s, is now shrinking. One of the main reasons is lack of hard currency, since many countries are now saddled with crippling debts. There is an irony here: many of these debts were caused by arms purchases in the first place. It has been estimated that about 20% of the third world debt until 1980 was due solely to military imports. Much of this occurred after the sudden increase in oil prices, when petro-dollars flooding the banks of the West were lent hastily to developing countries.

At the same time, the end of the Vietnam war hit many of the world’s arms manufacturers, who sought — and found — new markets in the third world. Between 1972 and 1982, the value of arms bought by non-oil producing developing countries more than doubled. As interest rates soared throughout the 1980s, the burden of debt repayment multiplied, forcing more and more countries to call on the International Monetary Fund (IMF) for assistance. The economic austerity programmes imposed by the IMF in exchange for further loans usually involved public expenditure cuts and yet more encouragement of cash crop production. Military programmes remained untouched, while food production, education and health suffered still further.

There is some hope of change. In recent months the World Bank and the IMF have criticised the high level of third world military spending and urged restraint. The opportunity is there for them to use such influence in a positive way in the future.

Selling arms acts to boost the power of the military over the civilian population in developing countries. In some countries to which Britain sells, this compares to the arming of another Saddam Hussein. Indonesia, a major recipient of British arms, is rules by a regimes guilty of appalling human rights abuses, including torture, extra-judicial killings and detention without trial. In East Timor, which Indonesia invaded in 1975, a third of the population has since died from aerial attacks, atrocities, or starvation. Most civilians there are forced to live in army-controlled strategic villages.

Yet Britain has pushed hard to become a big arms supplier to Indonesia. Despite a record of extreme human rights violations, President Suharta has been sold millions of pounds worth of British military equipment — boosting his morale, and creating international legitimacy for his government. Last year Ferranti sold £5m worth of laser range-finders for Hawk aircraft to Indonesia. What signal does this send to those suffering under the Suharto regime?

But what are the benefits to Britain from selling weapons? Whatever the cost to developing countries, surely the arms trade boosts British export revenue, creates jobs and secures finance for education and the NHS?

In contrast to the impression given by the media, this is not the case. Such exports constitute only a tiny proportion of visible export earnings — less than three percent. Far from reducing unemployment, numerous studies have shown how more jobs would be created by spending on education, health, construction or transport — all of which Britain need — than by investment in the arms industry. Jobs supported by arms exports are notoriously unstable, with contracts frequently subject to cancellation.

And the global demand for arms is shrinking — markets in Europe and the US are drying up as a result of détente, and the indications are that military spending cuts planned before the Gulf war will still go ahead. As the third world market for arms also declines, British companies fave stiff competition from new third world exporters, offering simpler weapons at cheaper prices. Humanitarian concern combined with economic sense makes a powerful argument for withdrawing from the arms trade.

A planned programme of conversion from military to socially useful production is needed, so that the skills and technology tied up in the arms industry can play a role in regenerating the economy. At present, nearly 50% of government research and development funds go to the military. They could be released for investment in civil industry, helping British manufacturers to compete with countries such as Germany or Japan, where government support for industry is strong.

Such change is not only possible but urgent and necessary. It could create livelihoods in Britain, and save very many lives in the third world.