On November 25, Band Aid released the “definitive remix” of “Do They Know It's Christmas?”, the 40-year-old charity rock single that, in addition to the good it has done, also conveys a narrative that undermines an entire la dignity and agency of the continent. The recording has raised millions for humanitarian aid, but it has also fueled misrepresentations that have long justified treating Africa as a blank slate for Western intervention.
In 1984, Bob Geldof, then lead singer of the Boomtown Rats, brought together a supergroup of British and Irish rock stars to perform “Do They Know It's Christmas?”, a song he co-wrote after seeing BBC reports about a widespread famine in Ethiopia. The lyrics are a pop hymn to colonialism, recalling Hegel's thoughts in the 19th century when he dismissed Africa as “ahistorical, underdeveloped” and “devoid of morality, religions and political constitution.”
Phrases like “Where nothing ever grows / No rain nor rivers flow” and “Well, tonight, thank God it's them instead of you” described Ethiopia as helpless, barren, and dependent on Western salvation. In 1984, the song, accompanied by harrowing images of famine, simplified a complex crisis, reducing the nation's historical, cultural and religious identity to a caricature of despair for Western audiences.
The Ethiopian famine of 1984 was far from a simple natural disaster. It was exacerbated by the civil war between Ethiopia's Soviet-aligned Derg regime and insurgent groups such as the Tigray People's Liberation Front, backed by Western nations. Cold War geopolitics turned the famine into a proxy battlefield, with the United States and the United Kingdom providing both famine relief and covert support to insurgents seeking to weaken the Derg.
Band Aid's original release set a Christmas sales record in the United Kingdom, and eight months later, Geldof hosted Live Aid, a televised concert that attracted more than one billion viewers in more than 100 countries, or about a third of humanity. Broadcast for 16 hours from Wembley Stadium in London and the (now demolished) John F. Kennedy Stadium in Philadelphia, it was a historic cultural event with performances by David Bowie, Madonna, Paul McCartney and dozens more, and featured British royalty, including Princess Diana. The show raised a staggering $50 million in pledges, plus additional revenue from sold-out merchandise. He was hailed as the pinnacle of humanitarian success.
However, behind the euphoric Live Aid headlines lurk dark questions. In his memoirs, Fikre Selassie Wogderess, Ethiopia's prime minister from 1987 to 1989, said that only $20 million worth of aid reached the country in the mid-1980s. Reports (denied by Geldof and, in one case, retracted by the BBC) have suggested that some of the funds may have fallen into rebel hands. Since 1985, the Band Aid Charitable Trust is estimated to have raised more than $178 million for aid to Africa, but the broader context cannot be ignored.
Beyond the famine, Western involvement in Ethiopia became open political meddling. In 1991, during the fall of the Derg, the United Kingdom and the United States organized a peace conference in London that allowed the TPLF to come to power. This minority-led government ruled Ethiopia for 27 years, exacerbating ethnic tensions and sowing the seeds of instability that continue to plague the nation. The parallels with the Berlin Conference of 1884 (2024 marks its 140th anniversary), where European powers divided Africa for their own benefit, are striking. Both events reveal a pattern of external forces imposing political structures on Africa to serve their interests, without taking into account the complex histories and diverse peoples of the continent.
The long-term impact of Band Aid on Africa's image is equally worrying. The branding of Ethiopia (and, by extension, Africa) as a monolithic land of suffering has been repeated over the years with reruns of “Do They Know It's Christmas?”, including Band Aid II in 1989, Band Aid 20 in 2004, Band Aid 30 in 2014 and now Band Aid 40, shaping how the world views and engages with Africa and undoubtedly influencing investment, collaboration and policy decisions.
The lyrics have been edited in response to critics who call the song degrading and riddled with colonial tropes, but it remains a tone-deaf exercise in self-indulgence. Most Ethiopians are Christians; the country adopted Christianity as early as the 4th century AD Ethiopians knew it was Christmas in the winter of 1984, and they know it now, despite the song's condescending question.
And Ethiopia continues to be misrepresented in the Western imagination. Far from being a defenseless land, it is the cradle of human civilization with a legacy as a leader in Africa's fight against colonialism. Although the country in 2024 is not a utopia (its challenges are real), it has survived a century of external interference and internal strife. Ethiopian Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed succinctly responded to the 2024 Band Aid remix: “A good cause that hasn't evolved with the times could end up doing more harm than good.”
The relentless resurgence of narratives centered on helplessness and dependency distorts the rich and complex realities of Ethiopia and Africa. Instead of perpetuating outdated stereotypes, we must elevate African voices and champion a future where Africa leads and inspires on its own terms.
Elias Wondimu divides his time between Ethiopia and Los Angeles. He is the founding director of Tshehai Publishers, the editorial director of the International Journal of Ethiopian Studies and a senior fellow of the International Association for Strategic Studies.
