Economic Justice, Cup By Cup
	By BLAINE GRETEMAN

In 1969, Van Baelen helped establish CDI Bwamanda, an aid organization in northern Congo that takes its name from the village where it began and bases its program on the ideas in his book, Moral Development. In it Van Baelen argued that aid is best deployed when it empowers poor workers to become equal partners in the global marketplace, and the project proved him right; it now provides the only infrastructure — five hospitals, 80 health centers, a radio station, 540 km of roads and dozens of schools — for nearly a million people in an area twice the size of Van Baelen's native Belgium. But the project's future depends, literally, on a hill of beans.

CDI Bwamanda's once gleaming roads and buildings haven't escaped the ravages of war. "The area has been totally cut off from the outside world," says Van Baelen, "and the only income for the people has been from coffee." World coffee prices have dropped 87% since 1997, and for every ton of coffee that CDI Bwamanda processes, ships to port, insures and sells on the open commodity market, it now loses nearly $400. Fortunately, Van Baelen and his colleagues saw the problem coming, and as far back as the 1980s started cutting deals based on "fair trade," in which buyers agree to pay farmers more than the market price in order to make sure the farmers earn a decent profit. "People in wealthy nations accepted the idea of a minimum wage years ago, so surely African farmers deserve the same thing," he says. These days a ton of fair-trade coffee yields a profit of nearly $2,000 and CDI Bwamanda sells 500 tons a year.

Coffee and the revenue it generates are just one part of Van Baelen's basic program: "You can't expect the guy in the field to be competitive with a machete," he says. "You must give him the tools and resources he needs." While 50% of the fair-trade coffee premium goes to the farmers themselves, 20% is invested in kilns, processing plants and research, 20% goes to social services and 10% to insurance. "The whole point is tackling a society's fundamental structures," he says. "You can't just do schools, or hospitals, or economic programs; you have to do them all together."

If it sounds like a charity-run nanny state, think again. CDI Bwamanda puts local people in charge of their own destinies. When the program started in 1969, it was run by about 70 Belgian expatriates, and although it is still headed by Van Baelen, it is now entirely controlled by local residents. Many children of the first farmers to join the program are now in university; others are in CDI Bwamanda's nursing schools or technical institutes, learning how to use the technology that will make the difference between subsistence and full integration with the global economy.

The fighting in Congo continues, and both the people and the fulfillment of CDI Bwamanda's vision have suffered. "We've always been in debt," says Van Baelen, who haunts government offices and Catholic charities to scrape together money to meet CDI Bwamanda's modest €5 million budget. But he's mostly concerned with ensuring the group's survival after he has gone. "I don't feel like a hero," he says. "Other people have worked harder than me." Perhaps, but when they kick back and have a steaming cup of java, few have the right to enjoy it so much.

Previous: Caoimhe Butterly	Next: Jaime Oliver

	Coffee with Cream — And a Conscience [Feb. 17, 2003] Does fair trade mean it tastes better? Desperate Lives [Apr. 15, 2001] The war in Congo has hit the already sick economy hard, driving people deeper into poverty and illness Partners, Not Beggars [Jul. 8, 2002] The rich world gives a mild endorsement to a new African development plan Search all issues of TIME Magazine Premium Content