When a disaster such as the tsunami in Asia on Dec. 26, 2004, hits, the mind reels at the horror – death and destruction of unimaginable scope.  And we do not have to imagine it, for modern technology and communications instantly supply a large part of the world with the images of suffering and devastation.  It takes a while, however, for those of us not directly affected to recognize the magnitude of the tragedy.

Governments and world leaders do not have, and should not have, the luxury of reacting slowly to such catastrophes.  One reason why we have governments is to deal with crises – national and international crises alike.  This is why I am dismayed that our government initially pledged a paltry $15 million in aid after the tsunami struck and am not surprised that this original response evoked criticism of how "stingy" America was.  To be sure, the United States – five days later – increased the amount considerably to $350 million (making it fourth highest amount promised among all nations pledging aid), but here too I was dismayed by the tone that accompanied the pledge.  It surely must have appeared to many that the U.S. had not increased the amount because we recognized humanitarian responsibility but because we belatedly saw how much our initially stingy offer could harm our international image.

Perhaps it is my imagination, but whenever our government contributes money to help other countries, the contribution is invariably accompanied by political rhetoric patting the U.S. government on the back for its generosity, even when the funds are to help countries recover from a catastrophe over which they had no control whatever.  Yet our government is not that generous.  According to an article in Time (Jan. 10, 2005) by Jeffrey D. Sachs, director of the Earth Institute at Columbia University, "our military spending outpaces our developmental aid by 30 to 1."  Sachs also notes:  "Almost three years ago, the Bush Administration signed a pledge . . . to provide .7% of national income in assistance to the world's poor."  However, he notes that today "the U.S. provides less than one-fourth of that pledge, just 0.15% – a mere 15 cents out of every $100 of U.S. income."  If our belated pledge of $350 million for tsunami aid fades in the same manner – as the images of horror fade from the TV screens and Americans' notorious short memory spans forget them – we will be doing less and less to help people recover from a disaster, the effects of which will reach years into the future.  If Uncle Sam is depicted as a tightwad, he probably deserves the epithet.

This is not to say that the people of America are not generous.  In the wake of the Asian disaster, individuals, organizations, and companies have displayed an unprecedented eagerness to contribute money, services, and supplies – often with little self-congratulatory fanfare.  A small article buried in the back pages of my local paper reports that the newspaper chain that owns the paper has pledged $1 million.  A sign at a local restaurant announces that all proceeds from a given day will be contributed to tsunami relief.  The American Red Cross reports that it has received $9 million in donations made through a single website, amazon.com.  We, the people of the United States, are aware that we are fortunate indeed to live in the wealthiest and most prosperous nation on the planet, and we aren't stingy.  We believe deep in our souls in humanitarian principles.

It's a political fact that governments and rulers don't always, or even often, reflect the people who inhabit the nation.  However, it is not surprising that people who live in other countries, especially those who suffer under governments that clearly do not represent their private values, feel that the government of the United States and the people of the United States are one and the same.  After all, this is the one country in the world to claim that its government is "by the people, of the people, and for the people."  Yet, paradoxically, though we are a generous people, we can have a government that is not.  While we may believe that fighting hunger is at least as important as fighting wars, we have no problem with a government that has it the other way around.  And what other people conclude about us is going to be based far more on what our government does – and does not do – than on what we the people do.

This is a point in history when our government needs more than ever to show the world a humanitarian face that reflects the true nature of the American people.  Thanks largely to the miscues in Iraq, the image of America as a less-than-benevolent superpower has taken hold in much of the rest of the world, even among those peoples who were once our friends and admirers.  But it is not to remove the tarnish from our image that we should offer all the aid we can to the victims of the tsunami.  It is because it is the right thing to do, the only right thing to do.

As the poet John Donne wrote in his Meditation XVII:  "No man is an Island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away be the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a minor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind.  And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls.  It tolls for thee."