What Mark Carney and Václav Havel can teach us about African philanthropy
When Mark Carney cited Václav Havel’s The Power of the Powerless at Davos, he wasn’t just diagnosing the fragility of authoritarianism. He was issuing a challenge to the world’s bystanders — mid-sized nations and institutions — reminding them that they hold more agency than they realise. He invoked Havel’s famous greengrocer, who places a slogan in his window not because he believes it, but to signal he understands the rules of the game.
Havel called this "living within the lie." But in the context of modern governance, it might be better understood as the trap of performative compliance.
“Donors rarely dictate agendas. Rather, power flows upward through anticipation.”
Navigating the landscape of international funding at the University of Cape Town, I found that Carney’s reference struck a chord that had little to do with geopolitics. It offered a precise diagnosis of an unintended consequence in the relationship between African universities and Global North philanthropy.
In the drive for alignment, we risk creating a system where we are all greengrocers.
To secure vital funding from Europe and North America, African institutions have become experts in fluency. We quickly learn the vocabulary of the moment. The language changes — systems change, equity, social impact — but the mechanism is often one of mirroring. We adopt the dense, moral-symbolic language of the donor because it is the prerequisite for engagement.
This is not a case of compulsion. Donors rarely dictate agendas. Rather, power flows upward through anticipation. We align ourselves pre-emptively to what we believe is required.
I see this "anticipatory compliance" daily. A solicitation for funding is drafted and redrafted until it mirrors the strategic priorities of a foundation in London or New York. Research questions that should be driven by local complexity are smoothed into narratives that fit global themes.
The danger is not that these concepts are wrong—indeed, they are often noble. The danger is that they can create an echo chamber. When a university packages its distinct, messy, local priorities to perfectly match a donor’s global strategy, the "truth" of the context is somewhat lost in translation. We risk entering a cycle where we present a polished reflection of what donors hope to see, rather than the raw reality of what is needed.
“Research questions that should be driven by local complexity are smoothed into narratives that fit global themes.”
For the donor class — investors and philanthropists who genuinely seek impact — this should be a concern. When beneficiaries focus on performative alignment, the feedback loop breaks. If we tell you only what you want to hear, you lose the ability to allocate capital where it is most effective. You end up funding a mirror image of your own strategy, rather than the distinct reality of the African continent.
At UCT, we are acutely aware of this tension. We want to be partners, not just recipients. We know that genuine impact requires what Havel called "living in truth"—a refusal to perform compliance for its own sake.
This is not a rejection of global priorities, but a call for deeper candour. The current model leaves value on the table. If we want genuine development, we need to disrupt this dynamic.
A truer partnership would look like radical honesty between donor and recipient. It requires donors to trust that African institutions understand their own fragility and potential better than a programme officer in Geneva or New York. It implies a move toward unrestricted funding, or at least a willingness to ask, "What do you actually need?" and be prepared for unglamorous answers: infrastructure, staff retention, student support, or basic research that creates no immediate headlines.
Conversely, it requires us, the recipients, to have the courage to present our agenda without the filter of "grant-speak." To invite donors to join our mission, rather than rewriting it to fit theirs.
Carney was right to remind Davos of Havel’s warning. Systems built on performative compliance are inherently fragile. If global philanthropy wants to be a pillar of African resilience, we must move beyond the slogans in the window and start doing business in the truth.
Havel’s solution to the greengrocer’s dilemma was 'living within the truth.' In the context of African philanthropy, this requires a new kind of courage from both sides. Real impact will not come from perfect alignment, but from the messy, difficult, and honest friction of reality. It is time to take down the sign and start speaking plainly.
Photo courtesy of Aleksei Tertychnyi | Unsplash