Mere months into his tenure as WHO Director-General, Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus announced Robert Mugabe WHO goodwill ambassador to a stunned audience.1
The news “dumbfounded” senior WHO staffers and baffled world leaders.
In response to the outrage, Tedros rescinded his decision, but couldn’t erase the memory of appointing a man who had “systematically undermined the health-care system in order to keep his hold on power” to a position of prestige at the world’s most visible health agency. Mugabe had famously banned reporting on the crisis. Given his own history of public health obfuscation,2 perhaps Tedros saw in him a kindred spirit.
In her piece for the Washington Post3, infuriated ex-CNN producer Frida Ghitis said what had up until then been the silent part about Mr. Ghebreyesus’s induction; “electing him required overlooking his long record as a major figure within a repressive regime. The government he served has been accused of torture, repression and electoral fraud.”
Ghitis was not done. “Some speculate that Tedros’s decision to appoint Mugabe was a pay-off to China… Beijing strongly supports Mugabe, and Mugabe has repaid the favor, helping to ease pressure from Africans who criticize China for exploiting Africa’s natural resources.”
Finally, she attempted to draw a hard line; “Tedros’s tenure should already be regarded as probationary, and his judgment in question… This matter is not closed.”
But it was closed. Tedros was in. He was kissing up to the right people. The fact that someone in elite media was finally stating the truth about the deliberate blind eye that had enabled Tedros’s foregone election was too little, too late.
Of course, those knowledgeable on Ethiopia had been shouting from the rooftops the entire time. Professor Alemayehu Mariam, a prolific writer on the subject of Ethiopian human rights and African issues, crowed, “I told you Tedros Adhanom is an empty suit!”4
Tedros continued to make questionable appointments via “a closed selection that downplay[ed] conventional expertise.” One example was the “appointment of a little-known Russian official to run the WHO’s tuberculosis program, using a fast-track process, one month after meeting with President Vladimir Putin." Russia’s TB track record was abysmal. Politico quoted Mark Harrington, the executive director of Treatment Action Group, responding to the news; “I can’t see what the upside is other than political payback.”5
Furthermore, under Tedros’s watch, the 2018-2020 Ebola outbreak saw the largest sex abuse scandal in WHO history, with “at least 83 perpetrators of abuse who worked for WHO and partners.” For westerners with the unfortunate tendency to equivocate, it should be emphasized that this was not a case of workplace harassment. This was a UN sex scandal, replete with “complaints of rape, forced abortions and the sexual assault of a 13-year-old girl.”
When allegations surfaced in the media in late 2020, Tedros claimed to be “outraged” and said that anyone discovered to be involved would face serious consequences. His emergencies chief said the WHO had “absolutely no details” of the abuse.
An internal UN report, however, revealed that Tedros had been informed of the allegations at least as early as 2019. Even after the allegations were made public, no senior officials linked to the misconduct were ever fired.
Leaked internal justifications were ridiculous. After three WHO managers mishandled a sexual misconduct case originally reported by the Associated Press, a confidential UN report made the argument that “the managers' handling of that case didn't violate WHO's sexual exploitation policies, because the woman wasn't considered a beneficiary of WHO aid since she didn't receive any humanitarian assistance.”
Tedros took the report, which the WHO’s own appointed experts slammed as “an absurdity”, as wholly sufficient for vindication.6
This time there would be no scathing rebuke in the Washington Post. In fact, Tedros received virtually no direct criticism.
The rules had changed.
COVID had arrived.