The personal of vaccine nationalism
‘This is not why i participated.’ J is furious, talking to a friend also on the vaccine trial for AstraZeneca, both of them amongst the first first 300 people who enrolled in the trial in April 2020. Neither they, nor the two other friends we know on the trial are British. They are from France, from Germany, from South Africa and from Canada. Nor were the people who administered vaccines to them, the cleaners at the Jenner institute, the nurses - most migrants. It is no wonder, that the tone of nationalism the UK and the EU have struck with its attitude on vaccines supply jars so badly with these participants since their experience with the trial has been anything but the visions conjured up by the term 'British' as BoJo deploys it.
Their motives from conversations I had with them back in 2020 are at striking odds with the UK government - the idea that a university trial - as opposed to a big pharma - trial would mean a cheaper subsidised vaccine which would be able to be rolled out to poorer parts of the world. And at a fraction of the cost of big pharma vaccines.
Vaccine nationalism – where countries push to get first access – is now firmly established.
I am writing this while J sits writing take a look at the edits and additions i made to a letter he has drafted to circulate to the other participants in objection to the vaccine wars and how countries are dealing with them.
Reading about the news is definitely dampening the whole Saturday relaxation vibe. I am getting flashbacks to a Saturday in December 2019 when a similar Saturday was given over to the labour of drafting a letter in response to an incident of racism at the office Christmas party.
When the chips are down, impossible not to fixate on how broken systems are.