Denis Mukwege – A True Patriot

Words by Jacqueline Campbell. Image from The Independent.

Denis Mukwege

In the wake of the draconian cuts announced by George Osborne last week, there has been a steady increase in the ever-present grumbling of those who begrudge money being spent on international aid. “Charity starts at home,” they admonish, “we have people dying HERE!”.

They resent the budget protection afforded to the Department for International Development (DFiD) at a time when every other sector is feeling the squeeze, particularly their beloved military.  They expound the virtues of patriotism, and highlight all the social injustice and suffering that  goes on within our shores. Suddenly they have an almost encyclopaedic knowledge of  inequality in the UK, and feel that helping vulnerable people here and giving aid to those abroad are mutually exclusive activities.

These people call themselves patriots, and say they love their country; they undoubtedly shout the loudest during international sporting events, and get misty-eyed to the opening chords of God Save the Queen. They love Great Britain, and they’ve got the bulldog tattoo to prove it.

But what does all this posturing actually mean? I’ve no doubt many people simultaneously help the needy and love their country, but I’m uncomfortable with being proud of the arbitrary label that is my nationality, particularly if it means that the children of another nation are somehow less deserving of my empathy.

Take the plight of the people in the war-torn Democratic Republic of Congo. I’ve seen people roll their eyes at the thought of yet another African country in dire straits. “Why should we help them when they don’t help themselves?” they grumble, as if the Congolese are sitting around playing Jenga and waiting for British taxpayers money to fall from the sky while their country falls to pieces.

There are people making a real difference, and working to improve their country against all odds. Many will not of heard of Denis Mukwege before. The son of a Pentecostal minister, he soon learned that prayers weren’t helping his compatriots. He studied medicine, and specialised in obstetrics and gynaecology to help deal with the overwhelming number of women suffering terrible injuries who flocked to his clinic. Many had suffered complication during childbirth, as a result of having to travel miles on foot whilst in labour, trying to escape the militia. All too often, women and girls arrive there covered in blood, urine and faeces, their bodies literally torn apart from brutal gang rape, and the soldiers’ habit of bayoneting or shooting the women’s genitalia afterwards: the ultimate act of misogyny.

Dr. Mukwege could have left D R Congo when the fighting broke out, as most of the doctors did. But not Denis Mukwege. The lack of funding, the absence of governmental support, the death threats he’s received, nothing keeps him from coming to work every day and saving the lives of thousands of women and children.

Mukwege has trained other doctors to carry out the highly specialised operations that these women desperately need to repair their damaged bodies; his clinic provides counselling for the women who have been raped, and for their families, helping to remove the stigma suffered by rape victims. There is even a dedicated care program for children conceived as a result of the rapes, and one to help children back into education who’ve been raped themselves.

This is a man who loves his homeland.

I’m not saying we can all be as admirable as Denis Mukwege, he is truly an inspiration. But we can show our love for our homeland in more meaningful ways than bitching about helping those in desperate need around the globe while waving our Union Jacks.

Denis Mukwege is making his country a better place; if there is a place for patriotism, then this is it.